NAGVIB UNFURLED a large sheet of imitation papyrus, cleared his throat and said: <<At 9.45am tomorrow the Fatimid Islamic Renaissance will launch a glorious offensive against the infidels who have corrupted our culture, stagnated our initiative and dared to extinguish our shining heart of truth.>>

<<Did you write that for the occasion?>> MK sniggered, eliciting laughs from the crew.

<<Poetic sentiments aside>> Nagvib getting grouchy <<it's going to be a tough operation. Security has been tightened at the Cairo airport; the latest weapon sensors have been installed. That's why for this operation we are going right back to basics, with plastic hand-grenades, Diet Coke and Mentos Molotov cocktails, and cap guns.>>

<<Are you crazy!>> Ishmael snapped. <<You recruited me to tote a cap gun?>>

<<My friend>> Nagvib affecting a mixture of sincerity and sleaze <<I recruited you for your iron will and devotion to Islam. These cap guns look authentic; nobody's going to argue with them, especially with you at the trigger. Just karate chop some of the hostesses on the way to the cockpit and we'll be okay.>>

<<But we could be raided on the tarmac>> Ishmael implored. <<We will need some kind of arsenal.>>

<<My friend, we have protection. We'll fly the airliner to Tobruk military base in Libya; Gadaffi is sympathetic to our cause. My friend, this operation has been planned to the 10th degree.>>

<<And if one of the passengers is armed?>> but Nagvib just waved his hands and said: <<We'll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight there are more important concerns. Such as showing you the sights of the city.>>

<<The only place I'm going>> Ishmael said <<is back to my hotel.>>

<<Two hours>> Nagvib pleaded, shoving an urgent pair of fingers in Ishmael's face <<just two hours to seduce you. God willing, I'm sure it can be done!>>

So they all crammed themselves and their weaponry into a little Renault and raced breakneck across town. MK sat in the back drinking Jack Daniels whisky (!) and talking politics and religion. When he was halfway through the bottle he launched it out the window at a passing army jeep.

<<What are you doing?>> Ishmael ducking instinctively. MK grinned, giving Ishmael the feeling he was being mocked.

<<This isn't Gaza>> he said. <<You won't get shot for throwing rubbish.>>


!SHMAEL THE !NVINCIBLE and other characters copyright Robert Sullivan 1996-2000.