On the bridge, the officer of the deck, or OOD, was making a log entry when suddenly the frigate’s propeller simply stopped. “Sir, sudden loss of propulsion!” the helmsman reported.

The OOD immediately picked up the 1MC phone direct to Engineering. “Engineering, bridge, what’s happening down there?” No reply. “Engineering, bridge, respond!” Still no reply. The OOD turned to the chief petty officer. “Sound general quarters, all hands to battle stations, no drill.” He picked up another phone, the one direct to the captain’s quarters. “Captain to the bridge. Emergency.” The OOD had picked up another phone. “Combat, bridge . . . Combat, can you hear me?” There was no reply. “What in hell is going on here?” He turned to the chief petty officer and shouted, “And why haven’t you sounded general quarters, dammit?”

“I activated the alarm, but it did not sound, sir!” The chief petty officer turned to one of the watchstanders and shouted, “Start a running message relay right now, general quarters, battle stations, this is not a drill. Go!”

“Ma’lesh,” they heard behind them. “It doesn’t matter.” The OOD and chief petty officer turned and saw Commander Farouk step onto the bridge. “Sir, we’ve lost propulsion,” the OOD reported, “and I cannot raise Engineering or Combat and I cannot sound general quarters. I.. .” But then he noticed the surprised expressions of the helmsman and the other watchstanders as the captain stepped onto the bridge. “Sir .. . ?”

Farouk was roughly pushed toward his captain’s chair in the center of the bridge, and then the place seemed to explode in chaos. Men in Egyptian naval uniforms pointed automatic weapons at the bridge crew, shouting in English. At the same moment, the access door from the center of the bridge burst open, and more English-speaking men rushed in; behind the OOD and chief, the port-side weather door also whipped open, and more strange men entered. Once the bridge crew was gathered up, they were placed down on the deck, hands behind their necks. Four of the commandos stayed on the bridge, while others took up security positions outside and in the inside passageway.

Patrick entered commands into the frigate’s computerized helm station, and the ship turned away from the Egyptian coast, increasing power to maximum. He then picked up the captain’s telephone and held it out to Farouk. “I need you to tell your crew that we will be delayed in returning to Mersa Matruh and to not interfere with my men.”

“I refuse.”

Patrick seemingly did not react—but moments later, Farouk’s body began to do a strange jerking quiver in his seat, and his eyes began to roll up into his head. The spasm lasted for several moments, then Farouk’s body went limp. The Egyptian captain appeared as if he had just been beaten up, his breath coming in deep gasps, although no one had touched him. “It will be harder on you if you do not comply,” Patrick said in an electronically synthesized voice.