The Damnable Voyage
Chapter 37
The moonless night aided Ahmed and his six man Yemini crew in their journey. Their double-mast dhow with its lateen sails plied the calm waters of the gulf northward to their destination and destiny. It was to be the final voyage of their lives and one worth dying for, all in the name of the holiest of holies: Allah. And may He bless their humble sacrifices and deaths!
Ahmed had prepared well for the assault on the LNG supertanker. Instead of two limpet mines, four would be employed for greater effect and destruction of the ship and everything around it for miles in all directions. It would be a righteous, religious act to further the goal of jihad and glorify the power of Islam. The heathen infidels of the world would take notice and forever fear the might of Allah’s merciless sword.
Fishing dhows were a common sight in the Gulf and wouldn’t draw any undue attention by passing boats and ships. Stealth was their best ally so they ran without lights, needing to be especially cautious when approaching other craft which might cross their path. Otherwise, it was a routine sailing of commercial fishermen earning a living through a trade passed down from generation to generation. To the casual observer, the ship and crew was neither remarkable nor threatening in the least.
However, to the watchers at the naval base in Bahrain, the dhow had just entered the restricted waters around Ras Tanura and represented an immediate threat. The array of sonabuoys had picked up the signals and passed them to the 5th Fleet Command Center. Their display screen showed a slow, but steady progression of the bogey towards the oil port that needed to be checked-out ASAP. Perhaps it was simply a vessel that had veered off course or maybe something more sinister. But the navy couldn’t afford to guess and acted according to standard procedure for such things. It sounded the alarm bells!
The blacked-out Super Sea Stallion helicopter without markings came in hot and fast, skimming just above the water in the direction of the dhow. It engines and props had been modified to reduce its noise signature and its aluminum skin covered with radar absorbing paint. It was the latest mode of transport for the elite U.S. Navy SEAL team aboard. Team 4, based in Bahrain, answered the alarm and quickly responded to the bogey now heading to Ras Tanura.
One low pass over the dhow confirmed it was no ordinary fishing vessel. The RPG launchers and assorted diving gear visible on its deck confirmed the fact. The side door gunner laid down a line of 50 caliber tracer rounds in front of the ship, warning it to stop dead in the water. The crew would suffer the same fate if it didn’t comply with the not-so subtle message to cease and desist in its forward movement. Something very fishy was up after all.
Ahmed made the mistake of ordering his men to return fire with their AK 47 assault rifles and RPGs. He’d later live to regret it, but not so many of his men.
The SEALs dropped their rubber Zodiac boats out of the far side of the aircraft and repelled down ropes to them. A fierce, but short lived, gun battle ensued. The terrorists were no match for Team 4 and the fighting was over in three minutes. Ahmed and another of his team survived the assault and surrendered realizing the futility of the fight. They were flex-cuffed and winched into the aircraft. There was no reading of their Miranda rights because they didn’t apply since the terrorists were enemy combatants; illegal ones no less. They would have taken their own lives except for the fact that mujahedeen warriors who commit suicide don’t get keys to the pearly gates of whatever they called such things in their version of Valhalla. Ahmed also thought they might yet live to fight another day, inshalla.
Once aboard, the Stallion’s pilot did the most amazing thing.
Members of the SEAL team had looped heavy-duty straps under the dhow and hooked them together at a single fitting on the deck of the ship. It then hoisted the ship out of the water and returned to Bahrain with its catch in the makeshift basket.
The Stallion was initially built for heavy lifting jobs on construction or other sites which called for moving steel beams or concrete pillars from one spot to another. It was a powerful workhorse for commercial projects requiring its enormous lifting capabilities before being used for military purposes. In Vietnam, early versions of the craft were called Jolly Green Giants and for good reason.
The U.S. Navy base would be Ahmed’s home away from home for the next several weeks until he and his colleague were shipped off to Gitmo for a number of years of reeducation and a change in attitude. As terrorists, they were in judicial limbo as so-called unlawful combatants and wouldn’t enjoy prisoner of war status.