“My God...” He gasped. He thought quickly. Zuwayy was in grave danger—it could be a matter of minutes before the area was invaded—or destroyed. “I want the best helicopter available, any kind, fueled and ready to fly as soon as we arrive on the flight line!” Mekkawi shouted. “And I want an armored personnel carrier brought around to take the king to the base. Hurry!” He turned back to the secure telephone: “You heard me, Major. The king has ordered that all Area A targets be attacked immediately if there is any indication that a general attack is under way.... Yes, with all available rocket and air forces designated to strike Area A targets, including special-weapons forces. He has also ordered that sorties be generated immediately for follow-on attacks on Area B targets on his command ... yes, stand by for authentication.” Mekkawi pulled out a decoding document from a chain around his neck, quickly computed the code using the formula plus the current date and time, then read it to the senior controller. “I also want...”

“Sir!”

“What the hell is it? I’m on the line to headquarters.”

“Look!”

Mekkawi turned to a bank of security monitors.

“The security camera to the rectory in the mosque—it is off!”

“What?" Mekkawi grabbed the phone, but it was dead.

He dropped the phone and drew his side arm. “Have all available palace security forces converge on the mosque and cover all exits, and I mean now!”

“Muck, it’s me,” Hal Briggs radioed via their secure command channel. “We’re waiting for you at the exfil point. Check your datalink, brother. We’re showing lots of troops on the move, heading your way. Bug out immediately!”

“Roger,” Patrick replied. It was too late, Patrick realized. The plan was to kidnap Zuwayy and hold him until all the prisoners were set free—unfortunately, it didn’t look as if he’d be able to get him out of Jaghbub. “I want Plan B set in motion, Hal. T minus two minutes.”

“You haven’t got two minutes, Muck.”

‘Two minutes,” Patrick said, and he terminated the connection.

“You can't kill me!" Zuwayy screamed, half out of terror but hoping someone outside would hear him. “What have I done to you?”

In response, Patrick picked Zuwayy up, carried him outside, then jet-jumped up to the roof of the rectory, beside the green dome of the Great Mosque. Patrick held Zuwayy up by his bedclothes in one hand, turning him so he faced west, toward the military base.

It was a spectacular sight. Over and over again, strings of explosions rippled across the ground as the Wolverine cluster bomb attacks continued. Antiaircraft artillery fire continued, with tracers streaking across the sky like incandescent snakes. Occasionally there was a large secondary explosion as the last of the Wolverine missiles suicide- dived into their last targets. Burning tanks, trucks, and buildings lit the night sky everywhere, like dozens of camp fires. Men were shouting, calling out, screaming and firing in confusion.