98 MINUTES EARLIER
INTERNATIONAL WATERS, PERSIAN GULF—18:47 / 6:47 P.M. GST
The nets had been hauled up, and Fuad Razzak stared at his wrist as his watch counted down the minutes. The fishing trawler had been laying low 30 km off the Abu Dhabi coastline, safely in international waters. The captain had informed him that coastal patrol activity seemed to be heightened. That was not good. As much as Commander Abbas had assured him that it was impossible for the enemy to know about the attack, this was too much of a coincidence for Razzak’s taste.
Still, there was no turning back. They would either be successful or die trying. Or more likely, they would be successful and die trying. That was okay. He’d lived a difficult, violent life, most of it spent sleeping in uncomfortable places, surviving on not enough food, and constantly feeling the threat that at any moment a missile could come screaming out of the sky and end his miserable existence on this earth. He was ready for some peace, a little comfort, and most of all, some rest. Although, who can rest surrounded by 72 virgins, he thought with a laugh.
The second hand made one last circle, and Razzak touched the back of the captain, who also happened to be a first lieutenant in the IRGC. “It is time, my friend.”
The captain’s hand was already on the throttle. He eased it forward, and the boat began to glide through the calm waters. Eventually, it settled at 9 knots. This was fast for the trawler but well shy of its maximum speed. No need to draw unwanted attention by racing toward the coast.
At this pace, it would take nearly 90 minutes to reach their launch point 5 km offshore. Normally, the maximum control distance for an Aurelia X6 Standard drone was 2.4 km, but these were operated by a Herelink controller, which doubled their range. Razzak didn’t fully understand the technology; he just knew where he needed to go and when he needed to be there.
Time passed. The captain kept a monitor on the coastal patrol boats, and for now it looked like they would hit a window in the coverage. But they could be spotted from the water or from the shore and intercepted at any moment. If that were to happen, Razzak had instructed the captain to stay off the radio and keep pushing forward. He and his men would have everything ready; he just needed to get in range. The hope was that in the confusion of what to do about this silent, Iranian-flagged trawler, he would have enough time to launch. If that were to happen, then from what he understood, it didn’t really matter what the Emiratis would do. By the time they were boarded and arrested, it would be too late.
“We are five minutes out,” the captain informed him.
“Jazakallaho ahsanal jaza.” Razzak thanked the captain, wishing Allah’s best on him with one last slap on his shoulder.
He left the bridge. The cold wind from the sea air jarred him after spending the last hour inside with the captain and his space heater. At the bottom of a set of stairs, he found his men waiting.
“This is our time, my brothers. Let’s go!”
They all sprang into action. He’d drilled them over and over for this very moment. Each man knew exactly what to do.
The ten cases were opened.
Drones were set out.
Detonators were inserted into each package of C4, attached to the underside of the drones, then powered on.
Once the drones reached an elevation of 25 meters, the detonators would automatically be armed. When they once again descended to 1.3 meters, a shock wave would trigger in the detonator, causing the C4 to explode and shoot out the surrounding nails and metal balls at the speed he’d been told—8,092 meters per second. All they needed was nine minutes after they launched—just a nine-minute flight time and they would achieve success.
Razzak watched his men closely as they worked. He wasn’t concerned about them getting anything wrong. Still, he couldn’t help analyzing their every move.
The captain’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “We have a rapidly approaching patrol boat from the south. Intercept time approximately four minutes.”
“What is our ETA to launch?” Razzak yelled back.
“About the same.”
Razzak’s insides clenched. They had to get this launch off, and they couldn’t be seen doing it. The only absolutely ensured success was a secret attack that would not be detected until the bombs started exploding. “Go full throttle! Buy me a minute! That’s all I need!”
The rumble from the engine increased, and Razzak could feel the acceleration.
“Power up the drones,” Razzak commanded his men as he ran into the cabin where he’d set up his control station. On his computer monitor, he saw the drones come online one by one.
“One minute,” called the captain.
The engine was whining, and Razzak could feel the boat slapping the water. Running back to the door, he yelled, “Stabilize the drones! Don’t let go of them until I tell you.” Looking to the left, he could see the lights of the patrol boat drawing near.
Allah, give us time!
“Now!” shouted the captain.
“Step away!” Razzak yelled to his men as he turned and ran into the cabin. He punched four computer keys, and then he could hear the drone engines spin to life.
“They’re hailing me on the radio,” called the captain.
“Ten more seconds,” Razzak shouted back.
When he saw that all the drones were fully accelerated, he pressed Return, activating the programmed sequence. The sound from outside the cabin door quickly diminished, then disappeared as the drones lifted and began their flight to shore.
Light suddenly flooded the cabin. A voice in Arabic called out over a loudspeaker. “Fishing vessel, identify yourself immediately or you will be boarded.”
Razzak smiled to himself. You’re too late, my friends. What’s done is done, and you can’t stop it.