The Mark of the Rebel

by B K Thomas

  Two hooded men enter the room followed by a man with a colorful shemagh. The scarf tells him the man is most likely from Saudi Arabia. Many of the men he has seen fighting are from Saudi Arabia. The Saudi’s fund Wahhabis’ mosques worldwide that are churning out radicals in waves. Those most dedicated made the news in prime-time attacks or run organizations and are hunted from the skies by the Americans and their allies. The General watches the man walk toward him. This man looks young, in his early thirties probably. The two men that accompany him walk away from the table and stand on opposite walls and say nothing. The man carries a black laptop. He would look like a student or young teacher or professional in another situation. The contrast is stark as two more men, much taller than him, follow behind him wearing black ski masks. They stop a few feet from the table as he continues.

  “Brother”, the man says with an almost cheerful tone as he sits down at the table in front of the General. “I am Mashal Al-Bakr”, he states as he sits the laptop on the table before them. Another man enters the room and sits a tea tray down on the table. The tray holds two cups, a bowl of sugar and a teapot.

  The General looks at the tray then back at Mashal but does not speak. He waits to see what the man has to say.

  “I hope we are able to make your stay with us worthwhile.” The man has wire-rimmed glasses and is clean-shaven. Probably can’t grow a beard like the others do. The General surmises. It is what kept him alive for so long through so many years of serving the president and then surviving the time of transition. This innocent looking man does not fool him. He sees a ruthless man seated in front of him. A man with the advantage and fully aware of it. The man is calm. He has a pleasant demeanor for a man in such a nasty business.

  “Yes brother, we shall see.” He finally answers.

  The man smiles and leans back in his chair absorbing it all. Then his face turns serious, “I knew we would be able to work with you. I knew you would be reasonable in” he pauses to gather the right words. His smile returns, “an unreasonable situation.”

  It is plain for the General to see the man is enjoying the moment. Like a cat with a mouse by the tail, the man is enjoying the game. The General waits.

  “I have been trying to meet with you for some time General.” There is a twinkle in the man’s eye. “I have watched you for months. I feel like we are old friends, I know you so well.” He leans forward in his chair. “But, unfortunately, General, we don’t have so much time to catch up. We have a cause to advance and that is why you are here now. You have information that I require. I will get the information from you one way or another. You know that we have methods to make a man beg for us to release him from this life. You do not need to experience such things, General. A man of your history. A man who has waged his own struggle for so long.” The man shifts his glasses and pauses to let the General take in the news.

  The General does not wish to prolong the dance. “What is it you want from me?”

  The man smiles. “I expected no less. A man like you does not waste time so I won’t. We did not only capture you while you were out. I have your wife, your son and your daughter.” He watches to see if any emotion registers on the General’s face. There is none and he continues, “I will not harm you, General. It is unnecessary. I will have things done to them beyond what you can imagine. If you do not provide me what I require, I will make sex slaves of your wife and daughter. They will serve our cause submitted to our fighters. I am sure you have heard how barbaric women are treated by some of our soldiers. There is really no telling what might happen to them. Your son, he will suffer now. He will suffer greatly. It will be a shame. He is so young. So talented at soccer. I remember that match last month. He is very good, isn’t he?” The man waits for the General’s response, but nothing comes.

  “It will be short-sighted for him to end his career now. To have to bear so much at a tender age is unnecessary.” He let the words hang. The General shifts in his seat.

  The man notices the discomfort and lets the General weigh the matter a moment longer. “You know that I have them, but to erase any doubts, I will show you.” He lifts the lid on the laptop. He taps away at the keys then turns the laptop to face the General. The General leans forward to see. The image is meant to humiliate his son as well as him. His son hangs in the air suspended by chains wrapped to his arms and legs. He is only wearing underwear. His arms and legs are spread apart and the tension in the chains is evident. The General’s pulse quickens. His son has to be in pain. Streaks where tears have flowed stain his face. The General decides that he will kill this man if he is ever free again.

  “Do you believe what I say, General?” The man asks plainly.

  “Yes, I believe you.” The General answers.

  “Good. You know, I spent some time in chains like the ones your son now hangs from when I was dropped off at Camp Bucca. I don’t know if you ever have?” The General shakes his head no and Mashal continues. “Everything hurts but it’s really the joints that feel it the most. Those small tendons and muscles are not meant to hold all that weight in suspension. The body is an amazing thing though and will work its hardest to overcome any situation. The pain is magnified when the electricity is turned on and the muscles contract and pull on those joints. The muscles contracting on their own is bad enough but, as they pull the body away from the joints, well, the pain is simply excruciating. Things will begin to tear. It can destroy a man.” He pauses again to see if the General has anything to say but he is still silent, so he continues. “You know; I was treated to both your country’s hospitality as well as the Americans. I did prefer the Americans. They are so civil compared to your security forces but that was so long ago wasn’t it General?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Before the Americans invaded Iraq in 2003, before the “shock and awe”, your president made preparations. You were part of his inner circle. You know where he sent the weapons the Americans were after, don’t you? Where are they?”

  The General reflects on the question and its implications. He knows these men are dedicated to seeing their cause fulfilled but wonders what they have in store for the weapons. He wonders if they will use them in Iraq. He knows they want to punch the West in the throat with them somehow. He could care less about them. What will they do with them? Their suicide bombers will do anything. They didn’t value their own lives. If he tells the man where the weapons were sent, will they end up killing him and his family just a year later? He stares at his son hanging suspended in the air by the chains. It is clear his son is now unconscious.

  “Take all the time you want to think about it General. I’m not in a hurry. You will tell me. You may want to spare your son the pain that is coming. If he dies before we get the information we want, your daughter will be next, then your wife. You can avoid it all if you will just provide what I require. The longer it takes, the greater they will suffer.” The man states calmly while motions to the tea. “Would you like a cup General?”

  The General shakes his head.

  Mashal pours himself a cup. He drops a sugar cube in and stirred as steam snaked its way up. “We don’t need to make this unpleasant General. I will get what I want whether you drink tea with me or not.” He peers at the General over the cup through the steam.

  Without looking up, the General speaks. “What will happen to my family if I do as you ask?”

  “That depends on you General. If you give me what I require, nothing more will happen to your family. I will return them to your home when we are finished.” The man smiles pleasantly.

  The General sits reasoning the outcomes. He stares at the screen. A man walks up to the boy and attaches some clamps to his chest then walks back out of the picture. The General squeezes his fist. “How can I believe you will let my family go when you behead people. When you trade them like cattle and treat them like dogs?”

  “My honor before Allah is more important to me than your family’s death. I will kill many more men like you in the days to come and their fami
lies too. Your family is not important to me but what you hold is. If you do not give it to me, I will wipe your seed from this Earth, but you will hear them beg for death before it is your turn.”

  The screen shows his son’s body tense up and begin to shake. His son’s mouth opens in agony and his eyes are wide with pain. The shaking stops and his body goes limp as the shock ends and the boy passes out again.

  “I will give you what you require.” The General concedes.

  “Good, I know you will be a reasonable man. Your family will be released when I am satisfied.” The man informs him.

  “We sent the weapons to Syria by truck and by plane. It took weeks to send it all. They were sent to Aleppo and Damascus. We sent them as the Americans gathered on the border. But Assad will not turn them over to you. Your people have not reached them yet in spite of all the work you are doing there. You will have to seize them by force, but I doubt you are strong enough.”

  “I knew it! I have been chasing these weapons for years.” The man slapped the table in joy. “I can’t tell you the pleasure it is to hear confirmation from someone who actually knows.” He confides like they are old friends. “Which weapons are shipped?”

  “Everything we had. Mustard, Sarin, Anthrax, and others.” The General details.

  “What about the uranium?” The man is excited. “What about the enriched uranium, the U235?”

  “Yes, we shipped that too.” The General knows that he is confirming what the man already suspects.

  The man leans forward. “How enriched is it?” His hopes are hanging on the answer he expects.

  The General thinks of all the options he can to find a way to answer that doesn’t crush everything he loves. He comes up empty. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and sags in defeat. “Yes, it is highly enriched.”

  The man sits back in the chair enjoying his achievement. He closes his eyes imagining the culmination of his plans.

  The General watches the man enjoying the fantasies of achieving his dream. The General shifts his weight. The information he is providing is a small price to pay to keep his family alive and out of the hands of these men. He will let his countrymen do their job and find them and stop them before they can achieve their goal.

  After the short pause, the man opens his eyes and asks, “Where is the Uranium sent?”

  “Aleppo”. The General replies.

  He can tell from the silence the man is serious. The effort they went through to confirm the weapons shipment tells him it is a priority for someone. The General hopes for the first time that Assad will be able to crush the rebellion.

  “It’s not in Aleppo anymore.” The man responds flatly.

  “Oh?” The General’s eyes widen, and his brow raises in surprise.

  “We checked when we are there. They must have moved them. So that leads to the next question. Where did they send them?” Mashal asks as he takes off his wire-rimmed glasses and cleans the lenses with his shirt. He suspected he already knows but he wants confirmation from the General.

  “Release my son and we can continue this conversation.” The General negotiates.

  He nods his head. “Yes General, I can understand your desire.” The man smiles. “I will not be releasing your son just yet, but as a sign of good faith, I will let him down if you cooperate.” The man tilts his head waiting for an acknowledgment of the terms by the General.

  The General stares at the screen then looks back at the man. “I will cooperate, let him down.”

  The man pulls out his phone and makes the call to stop the torture and release the boy from the chains. “You see; the boy is being released as we sit here,” Mashal assures him.

  The General sees his son’s limp body sag as the chains are let down. Relief sweeps over him as his son collapses onto the ground free from the torture.

  The man waits for a moment to allow the order to be carried out. “Satisfied General?”

  “Yes, what do you want?”

  “Where will they send the weapons General?” The man presses.

  “Yes, well, they would have sent them to Damascus if they thought they were at risk. It’s a heavily populated area that will cause challenges for any attacks from nations.” The General states settling into the conversation. “And Assad would have secured them where he feels they would be safest. Near him, so he can keep an eye on them.” The General surmises.

  “Damascus, yes of course. That is what I was thinking.” The man acknowledges. The man sits staring in the distance calculating what needs to be done next. The General watches him. He can only imagine what this man in wire-rimmed glasses has planned for the weapons, but he no longer cares.

  “But where in Damascus General? It is a large city.” Mashal continues to dig.

  The General thinks about the question. He wonders if he should continue or not. “I’ll take a cup of tea now.”

  The man smiles, “Of course, it is always easier to think when you are relaxed.” He pours a cup of tea. “Sugar?”

  “Please.” The General’s mind is racing as he watches the man drop a sugar cube into the cup. He decides keeping his family alive is his most important concern at the moment. He is in no position to negotiate with this man. He stirs the sugar in and considers his response. He lets out a sigh and gathers his resolve. “There is an airfield in Damascus. We placed some of the munitions there in a bunker. Al Mezzah, I believe it is. Yes, that is it. It is near some government buildings and the Lebanese Embassy.”

  “No one stores gas with Uranium and other munitions. Do you think they will really do such a thing?”

  “Come now, these are unusual times. It’s dangerous, but so is a civil war. There are no protocols for a time like this.” The General’s eyes grow narrow, “Now, release my family.” The General demands.

  The man awakes from his fantasy of destruction and glory to the concrete room where they sit. “Yes, of course, they will. They are desperate, aren’t they?” He smiles, “as for your family, they will not be going anywhere.” Mashal informs him as he rises from his seat. “I will be back. We have much more to talk about.”

  “What do you mean they aren’t going anywhere.” The General stands up suddenly knocking his chair over. The two hooded men at the sides of the table step toward him. “I did what you asked. Let them go!” The General demands as he clinches his fist.

  The man raises his hand to stop his men. “Oh, why no.” He pauses, then smiles at the General. “You won’t be seeing them anytime soon General.” The man continues as he turns to leave the room. “They will be our guests until we have everything we need. However, if our talks stall or you are not helpful anymore, you will see your son for one last time.”

  Chapter 4

  Mossad, Tel Aviv, Israel

  “Sir, I have some more information.” Sergeant Eli says walking up to Captain Ben Haim’s desk flipping through the General’s profile folder. “The General was in charge of some special projects in Saddam’s military. He was shipping everything from cars for the family to weaponry. He was not part of the original government after the fall, but it seems a friend got him back on board during the rough transition period. The Americans liked him, and he worked tightly with them. We have some records on him from the time before the Americans invaded. He was a key player while they shipped weapons to Syria for safekeeping. The Americans enjoyed a great deal of cooperation from him after the fall.” The Sergeant pauses, “that is probably why they didn’t have any problems with him working for the government later. The most significant detail on him is he knows where the weapons were sent. I suspect they grabbed him for this information.”

  “That sounds reasonable.” Captain Ben Haim pauses in reflection. “But we both know the weapons aren’t there any longer. Looks like they don’t know that right now, so that should buy us some time to find them before they can find the weapons on accident. If we get lucky it will all work in our favor.” The Captain and Sergeant exchange a smile. They both know that a lot of their s
uccess is random. To the outsider it looks like pure luck but the deeper they dug the more luck they seemed to have. He can live with it as long as it keeps coming.

  “Still, we don’t have much time” the Captain continues “we’ll have to move fast. We know they will.”

  The task is like trying to find a needle that is being weaved through a haystack that is moving. It is next to impossible, but they’d do it. They have no choice. Israel and their families’ existence depend on it.

  ***

  ASG, Jordan

  “What’s the news?” Major Westbrook asks as he looks up from his laptop.

  “Well sir, it looks like this general was involved in logistics. There seems to be some data on him that is missing. It looks like before the invasion he was involved in some high up stuff with Saddam but there is a gap in the docs about him. I’ll keep digging but that is the latest so far.” The Sergeant states apologetically.

  “Ok Sergeant. Stay on it. There is something big here and I don’t want to be the one surprised.” Major Westbrook emphasizes as he returns his gaze to his laptop screen.

  “Roger that sir.” Sergeant Jackson answers smartly and turns to go but pauses. “I think you’re right sir.”

  Major Westbrook looks up from his laptop, locks eyes with his most trusted analyst, “Say, again?”

  “Something doesn’t feel right.” He says with a frown.

  “Yeah, and we both know what that means.” Major Westbrook nods. “Find out what the gap is. Sounds like someone has some intel that they thought was special and tucked it away. We need to find out why and what they’re hiding.”

  “Roger that sir. I’ll find out what it is.” The Sergeant agreed thinking of who to contact first.

  Major Westbrook stares out across the intelligence center. Here they are on the cutting edge of the war on terror and there is data hidden from him by his own government. Their own data. He knows with his level of clearance, if there is something, he isn’t able to get, it must be really good. He also knows if it is important then he wants to know what it is, and he wants to know now. This General, with the disappearing act, is a bigger question mark now than when they first learned about him. He knows in his gut, it’s about the weapons, but he just isn’t sure how bad it is.