Invasion Read Online Free

even given the element of surprise, but Germany, like the rest of Europe, would have enough to cope with once the sleeper teams went active.
    And so it went on, around the table. Mousa’s eyes began to feel heavy. He’d heard the plans thousands of times, thrashed them out with the other Arabian generals in dusty living rooms, abandoned airfields and even in parked cars on motorways, where curious eyes could not see them or inquisitive ears overhear them. Security was everything. Hundreds had died, some probably innocent, to protect that secret. The result was that eighteen regional army groups stood ready, comprising almost a million troops, thousands of tanks, aircraft, artillery pieces, bridging equipment, logistics support – and only the men in this marquee, plus seven hundred and fifty other trusted individuals, knew the real reason for all the military exercises, the preparations and the sacrifices. One week from today and we’ll know if the plan was a solid one, decided Mousa.
    For a further three hours the operation was picked apart, every detail analysed and re-analysed, dissected and debated. In the weary silence that followed, all eyes turned to the Cleric as he sipped his dark, bitter coffee, lost in thought. Eventually he leaned forward and placed the teacup on the low table in front of him.
    ‘It is clear that you have all worked long and hard to ensure our success. Much blood has been spilt, much more will be spilt, yet only God, peace be upon him, can judge if our sacrifices have been worthy of his name. So be it. Operation Swift Sword will commence one week from today. Ensure your forces are ready.’ A fitting name, decided Mousa. It was the Prophet himself who once said; Swords are the key to Paradise. He who draws his sword in the path of God, swears allegiance. Yes, a fitting name indeed.
    The Cleric flicked his wrist and the occupants of the marquee scrambled to their feet. One after the other, they paid their respects and left, bodyguards in tow. Already Mousa could hear the distant whine of helicopters beyond the ridgeline as engines were fired up and rotors began to chop the night air. Khathami invited Mousa to sit beside him.
    ‘Everything appears to be in place, General Mousa. What is the latest word from our people in Europe?’
    Mousa extracted a sheath of intelligence briefing papers from his pocket, handed to him shortly before their flight into the desert.
    ‘Your Holiness, the financial crisis in Europe continues, its cities plagued by civil unrest and industrial action, fuelled by our socialist allies across the continent who have answered the call for direct action. In addition, converts in many European countries have infiltrated right-wing groups to stir up hatred against our people, resulting in Mosque burnings and physical attacks on our Brothers and Sisters. Many crave vengeance, and it has been difficult to suppress retaliation, particularly in France, where we are strongest. However, the message is loud and clear: Muslim communities across the continent are under threat and demand action. Key political operatives within European governments report a sense of fear amongst those in power, yet no administration has the courage to mobilise their armed forces to counter the escalating violence. It’s being viewed as a temporary aberration, a symptom of the continuing recession and widespread strike action, and sympathetic legal assets plus our own Ambassadors are mounting pressure on local administrations to protect Muslim communities. In the meantime, our joint military exercises go on, practically unobserved. Western security agencies are being monitored and almost universally the intelligence focus is domestic. The Infidels simply fail to see the storm that is brewing on their horizon. Allah has truly deafened the ears and blinded the eyes of our enemies.’
    The Cleric nodded his head respectfully at the mention of the One, True
    God. ‘What about the Americans?’
    ‘Their