punishment.
‘The angels themselves have revealed to me that soon the Hidden One, the Mahdi, will reveal himself. Allah has led us to discover this great power so we may prepare the world for the arrival of the Enlightened One.’ The president recited again: ‘The ground will move and the skies will blacken. All men and women will be made to cross over the black abyss, whence the flames of Jahannam will leap up. The believers will cross safely to Jannah; the others will be cast down as beasts. Afterwards, the Mahdi, the Hidden One, will lead the truly faithful to a land that is returned to the empire of Allah and cleansed of all idols, non-believers and sinners.’
The leader of the Islamic Guardian Council was a deeply religious man, but he was wary of the way the young president drew on an unfounded personal spiritual authority. He knew the president believed that the teachings of the Prophet signalled a resurgent Islamic caliphate and the coming apocalypse. His fiery rhetoric when it came to the might of Iran or his dealings with the West were both exciting and intimidating, but it seemed everyone but the president himself knew Iran could never survive a head-to-head conflict with the West, especially with the American forces. Iran’s weapon was the threat of withholding oil production, not firepower. Now Mostafa Hossein was concerned that Moshaddam was positioning himself to draw on an ancient prophecy to proclaim himself as some kind of prophet, perhaps even a descendant of the greatest prophet of all. Moshaddam was obsessed with the Mahdi, or Hidden Imam, a direct descendant of the prophet Mohammed, whose return would herald the Islamic Day of Judgment and the end of the world.
The president closed his eyes and gave a small backhanded wave, signifying the meeting was at an end. ‘I can hear the horn still,’ he whispered. ‘Israfil speaks to me even now, my friend. He tells me: ready yourself for the return of the prophet.’
Mostafa Hossein leaned over to kiss both of the president’s cheeks then moved to the door. He needed to talk to the Supreme Leader.
TEN
‘W hy not drop us into Iraq? That’s secure now.’ Alex was looking at the map of the Middle East that Hammerson had spread out on his desk.
The Hammer shook his head. ‘Secure, maybe. Sealed and silent, not a chance. We put you down anywhere in Iraq and Tehran will know about it within the hour. Same goes for Kuwait, Saudi and Bahrain. There’s no backup, and time is your enemy – you’ll need all the head start you can get. Has to be Israel, then you cross over to the target zone.’
Alex raised an eyebrow at his superior officer. ‘Cross Syrian airspace, over Iraq and then drop into Iran – that’s a lot of unfriendly eyes. Choppers are too slow, and that also rules out trekking in from the Gulf . . . Hmm, HALO?’
Hammerson smiled, pushed his chair back and brought his large hands together behind his head. ‘Oh, yeah. I’m thinking I’m going to throw you all out the back of a B2 Spirit at 35,000 feet and see what happens.’
‘Night drop?’ Alex asked.
Hammerson nodded. ‘High and dark. Twice the fun.’
Alex grinned. If a human being truly wanted to experience speed, forget about travelling in the cockpit of a jet or racing car. Just do a High Altitude Low Opening jump. All HAWCs had to perform HALOs as part of their special training; however, 35,000 feet was the absolute maximum without wearing a full pressurised suit. The air temperature was well below freezing at that height and frostbite, hypothermia and glass-eye were a possibility. Usually, though, you weren’t there long enough for any of those to occur; the real danger came from the low air pressure that could cause pulmonary or even cerebral oedema – swelling of the lungs or brain. The latter led to blackouts or hallucinations – you simply forgot why you needed to open your chute. Terminal velocity was around 200 miles per hour for a freefall, but with the
‘The angels themselves have revealed to me that soon the Hidden One, the Mahdi, will reveal himself. Allah has led us to discover this great power so we may prepare the world for the arrival of the Enlightened One.’ The president recited again: ‘The ground will move and the skies will blacken. All men and women will be made to cross over the black abyss, whence the flames of Jahannam will leap up. The believers will cross safely to Jannah; the others will be cast down as beasts. Afterwards, the Mahdi, the Hidden One, will lead the truly faithful to a land that is returned to the empire of Allah and cleansed of all idols, non-believers and sinners.’
The leader of the Islamic Guardian Council was a deeply religious man, but he was wary of the way the young president drew on an unfounded personal spiritual authority. He knew the president believed that the teachings of the Prophet signalled a resurgent Islamic caliphate and the coming apocalypse. His fiery rhetoric when it came to the might of Iran or his dealings with the West were both exciting and intimidating, but it seemed everyone but the president himself knew Iran could never survive a head-to-head conflict with the West, especially with the American forces. Iran’s weapon was the threat of withholding oil production, not firepower. Now Mostafa Hossein was concerned that Moshaddam was positioning himself to draw on an ancient prophecy to proclaim himself as some kind of prophet, perhaps even a descendant of the greatest prophet of all. Moshaddam was obsessed with the Mahdi, or Hidden Imam, a direct descendant of the prophet Mohammed, whose return would herald the Islamic Day of Judgment and the end of the world.
The president closed his eyes and gave a small backhanded wave, signifying the meeting was at an end. ‘I can hear the horn still,’ he whispered. ‘Israfil speaks to me even now, my friend. He tells me: ready yourself for the return of the prophet.’
Mostafa Hossein leaned over to kiss both of the president’s cheeks then moved to the door. He needed to talk to the Supreme Leader.
TEN
‘W hy not drop us into Iraq? That’s secure now.’ Alex was looking at the map of the Middle East that Hammerson had spread out on his desk.
The Hammer shook his head. ‘Secure, maybe. Sealed and silent, not a chance. We put you down anywhere in Iraq and Tehran will know about it within the hour. Same goes for Kuwait, Saudi and Bahrain. There’s no backup, and time is your enemy – you’ll need all the head start you can get. Has to be Israel, then you cross over to the target zone.’
Alex raised an eyebrow at his superior officer. ‘Cross Syrian airspace, over Iraq and then drop into Iran – that’s a lot of unfriendly eyes. Choppers are too slow, and that also rules out trekking in from the Gulf . . . Hmm, HALO?’
Hammerson smiled, pushed his chair back and brought his large hands together behind his head. ‘Oh, yeah. I’m thinking I’m going to throw you all out the back of a B2 Spirit at 35,000 feet and see what happens.’
‘Night drop?’ Alex asked.
Hammerson nodded. ‘High and dark. Twice the fun.’
Alex grinned. If a human being truly wanted to experience speed, forget about travelling in the cockpit of a jet or racing car. Just do a High Altitude Low Opening jump. All HAWCs had to perform HALOs as part of their special training; however, 35,000 feet was the absolute maximum without wearing a full pressurised suit. The air temperature was well below freezing at that height and frostbite, hypothermia and glass-eye were a possibility. Usually, though, you weren’t there long enough for any of those to occur; the real danger came from the low air pressure that could cause pulmonary or even cerebral oedema – swelling of the lungs or brain. The latter led to blackouts or hallucinations – you simply forgot why you needed to open your chute. Terminal velocity was around 200 miles per hour for a freefall, but with the
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