Free Gauntlet by Richard Aaron Page A

blueprints and then at the engineers. “Are you certain that a bomb of this design can destroy the structure?” he asked the engineers.
    “Yes,” replied one. “But the tolerances must be exact. There can be no deviation. Even a change by as little as one millimeter would alter the focus of the blast, and the structure would withstand the attack. And more importantly, the weapon must be placed at precisely the right spot. Again, small deviations will cause the mission to fail.” He pointed to a number of the plans scattered around the floor of the cave.
    Yousseff looked at the Emir. “I can have the weapon built. I will use your people to deliver the explosives. If your engineers are correct, I can do the rest.”
    “I can assure you, sir, that if you build the weapon according to these specifications, and place it where we say it should be placed, the structure will fail catastrophically. We have obtained the weapon design directly from Livermore Laboratories in the United States. We have independently reached the same result. This weapon will destroy that structure,” one of the engineers said, with some vigor. “That is a certainty.”
    “Once the structure is destroyed, a large part of America will fall into chaos, and the loss of life and property will be significant. It will far surpass what our warriors have already done,” said the Emir. He gazed directly at Yousseff with a smoldering look. “Far surpass.”
    Yousseff shook his head at the madness that burned in the man’s eye. He was not doing this for religious or political reasons, and could not understand those who did. “I will have great expenses, and will incur grave risk. Any of my men may be injured, incarcerated, or killed,” he replied in soft and even tones. “My ships might be seized, my airplanes shot down. Men have already died. I require funds for this operation.”
    The Emir grimaced as though he had just swallowed something bitter. It is always about the money, he thought to himself. Always money. He looked at Yousseff, his one good eye blazing. “How much?”
    “Twenty-five million American dollars,” Yousseff answered, his face showing no emotion whatsoever. “To be transferred to this account as soon as your messengers can do it.” He handed the Emir a sheet of paper with banking particulars.
    “Do it,” the Emir snapped to one of his hirelings. “Get someone to Jalalabad and see that it is done.”
    One of the engineers picked up a laptop and sent an email to the lower caves, where a servant received it and scrambled onto a horse for the ride to Jalalabad. As soon as the servant reached the city, he would make the appropriate transfers, through a discrete Caribbean bank. It was as good as done. Yousseff knew that the Emir didn’t care for money. A mistake, he thought. The Emir wanted power. Yet power was money, and money was power.
    “It will be done before the sun sets today,” the Emir confirmed.
    Yousseff considered for a moment. “I will require details of the engineering plans and of the structure itself,” he said at length.
    One of the engineers handed Yousseff a DVD. “Everything is on this,” he said.
    Yousseff reached for it and smiled. “Thank you.” He waited silently for a few moments. Then he spoke again. “There is something else I need.”
    “What is it?” asked the Emir.
    “It is a simple matter, especially for these people and their computers. I need information to start floating about on the Internet. I need the Great Satan to be looking for us elsewhere. I need the Americans looking to the East, when I will be traveling in the West.”
    One of the engineers nodded. “We can do this,” he said.
    “And can you convince the faithful from other countries to collaborate?” asked Yousseff.
    The reply was quick in coming. “Yes, we can.”
    “I will need someone with great computer skills. I need to plant false trails when the Americans come. I need the best you have,” added Yousseff,