Blood Moon Redemption

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Blood Moon Redemption Page 22

by Judy DuCharme


  Syria had ordered the destruction of Jerusalem. They figured they could rebuild the city if it was destroyed. They just wanted to annihilate Israel. Benjamin shook his head. Syria had no idea what a sleeping giant they had just awakened. Did they know it was the ninth of Av? Did they care?

  Benjamin reloaded. He knew that the first intercept was all that was needed. The Iron Dome of automatic missile response and the F151s would take over and part of Syria would be no more. He waited for the news. It was only a matter of minutes before he heard half of Damascus was gone. The sun was well above the horizon, but in essence, it had set on Damascus, and in world opinion it would soon set over Israel. Somehow, Israel would be the bad guy.

  It always happened. Someone, anyone, would attack Israel. If Israel retaliated, world opinion was swift. Israel should show restraint. Israel promoted violence they said. Israel should stand down. It was said often in Israel that if those against Israel would lay down their arms there would be peace. If Israel, however, laid down their arms, they would be wiped off the face of the earth.

  Hamas had built tunnels into Israel from Gaza in order to execute terror. They denied it. Israel used ground troops to destroy the tunnels. The U.S. told Israel to use restraint. Hamas regularly shot their rockets into Israel elementary schools and residential neighborhoods, knowing that Israel would try to take the shooters or at least the launcher site out. Invariably the retaliation would take the life of an innocent or cause damage in homes, hospitals, and schools, even though Israel would send texts, robo calls, and drop leaflets to warn the residents to leave.

  The press would then take up the diatribe against the audacity and violence of Israel against the young, helpless, and unarmed, making them out to be monsters and the world would agree. Blinders, they had blinders over their eyes. They never looked to see that Hamas had set it all up and were the aggressors.

  “Sir, are you listening. Everyone is being placed on high alert. Syrian forces and ISIS are mobilizing against Israel. Our team just started World War Three.”

  Benjamin looked over at his friend and team member. Rani was about to begin his university training and was making plans for marriage. Rani’s eyes were big, and Benjamin knew he was afraid.

  “Rani, we did not start this. It is the ninth of Av, and the Syrians did this. If half of Jerusalem had just perished, they would have rejoiced, and the world would say we brought it on ourselves. Perhaps it is just time to see our God, blessed be He, stand in our defense as He did in the Six Day War and the Yom Kippur war.” Benjamin reached over and clapped his friend on the back. “But, my friend, I do not think we will be done with our three-year commitment this week.”

  Rani’s face fell. “And what do I think of that? I think not much. I fear you are right, my friend. May God, blessed be He, intercede on our behalf.”

  That same day Hamas added to the fray. They started sending a barrage of Iranian FAJR-5 missiles. The rockets had a range of 47 miles, so they could reach Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. The Syrian-made M-302s, recently smuggled into Gaza, had a range of 93 miles, placing five million Israelis in danger.

  Benjamin and Rani saw the Iron Dome take out the majority of them. It was late in the day, and they would remain on duty well into the night. The orders came for an extra twenty thousand troops to take up positions on the border of Gaza. Benjamin and Rani would remain on the outskirts of Jerusalem as eyes and ears for the Iron Dome and be prepared for any Hamas sleepers trying to penetrate the city.

  With Syria on one side and Hamas on the other side in Gaza, the Iron Dome was stretched to capacity. Benjamin would soon order return fire to strike where Hamas missiles had been launched. “Touchy business.”

  “Muttering again?” Rani grinned.

  “It’s so frustrating. We’re launching into neighborhoods to take out their launchers, but they set it up where kids and the sick are. Then they blame us.”

  “We know that already.”

  “But the world doesn’t see it. They twist it.”

  “Benjamin, we drop the flyers, send text messages, and robo phone calls to let them know the retaliation is coming.”

  Benjamin blew the air out of his cheeks as his phone buzzed. “Orders. Flyers have been dropped. O God of Israel, help us take out the launchers and the terrorists, not the children.”

  Rani patted his back. “Amen.”

  Immediately after the ninth of Av Damascus war, the U.S., Britain, France, and Germany roundly condemned Israel for going on the offensive.

  Israel, however, did not regret their swift and almost automatic response to the Syrian missiles. Perhaps it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. But Israel refused to be broken. They were going to stop the nonsense. When ISIS and Syria mobilized against Israel, the IDF stood ready. The IDF was always ready. They prepared for just such a scenario on a daily basis. Meeting the threats against them militarily topped their priority list. Many thought they should have taken out Damascus, Baghdad, and Tehran years ago. Why put up with the constant threat, the endless rockets, and mindless hatred sent their way daily.

  For three weeks Israel remained under siege and had lost fifty-one innocents. Thirty-six soldiers died, and countless buildings suffered destruction. When the dust cleared, though, more stories of victory and miracles arose than those of tragedy.

  Syria had been judged. That was Israel’s conclusion. Its military was almost decimated. Russia sent weapons, but Israel intercepted them. The story was too amazing. Two Israeli F151s had been shot down. The four flyers parachuted safely to the ground. They kept their Uzis with them and escaped into a wooded mountainous region. Nearing a cave, they heard sounds and took cover nearby. Within minutes, jeeps with covered trailers drove out of the cave. They recognized Arabic and Russian as the camouflaged men shouted to one another.

  One of the flight crew was fluent in both languages. He turned to his team. “These are weapons, bombs, and missiles from Russia to assist the offensive against Israel.”

  They had little time to fire on the vehicles and were greatly outnumbered. Their top gunman, the one who never missed, used a silencer and took out the tire on the first jeep as it covered a rocky area of the road. Thinking it was simply a flat tire, the rest of the men stopped and smoked cigarettes while the soldiers in the first jeep repaired the tire.

  Realizing that God had presented them favor and position, they quickly moved ahead of the caravan and found a ravine in which the jeeps and trailers must pass through. Taking up position on both sides of the road the four men prepared to take out the shipment of weapons on its way to Syrian military outposts. Just as they were about to fire, the explosion of the F151s lit up the sky.

  The IDF soldiers had triggered the self-destruct portion of the fighter jets on the chance that enemy combatants would try to apprehend the machines.

  As the explosion sounded, the convoy participants had just entered the ravine. They dove out of their jeeps with guns ready. The IDF now had a target that was stationary even though the enemy soldiers were ready for trouble. One by one, one side after the other, the IDF shot a round into each jeep and trailer. After firing, each one ran to another position. With the combination of varying positions and right-on shooting, the convoy soldiers thought they were being ambushed by a hundred troops. When only three convoy soldiers were left, they stood up waving a white shirt for surrender.

  CHAPTER 24

  PRESENT DAY, IRAQ

  Omar was back in full strength. The room was stark. Surrounding the large table sat those in leadership from every jihadist group connected to ISIS and those with vested interests. Several wore traditional Arab keyiffas and white thobes. Most were in business suits.

  A large screen next to a huge map covered the wall behind Omar. He commanded respect. All present recognized his power and ability. His recent healing by Allah gave him unmitigated rule. He knew it and he used it. A worldwide caliphate was still possible, and he was anointed to make it happen.

  Omar stood regally and
looked each man in the eye. “I believe the shooting down of the Malaysia plane has accomplished several goals. Malaysia, as you know, is one of our first caliphates. Because some rebelled and became Christians . . . ” Omar spat. “We dumped them in the ocean.” The men chuckled and smiled. “No one can figure out why a plane just disappeared. Well, now we’ve shot one down over Ukraine as well.”

  Omar forced no emotion to show on his face. “I want this to continue. It has taken the world’s attention away from ISIS. It has stirred up the Ukrainians, and they try to defend themselves from world opinion. We want continued skirmishes between Ukraine and the pro-Russian separatists.” He tossed a file at one of the men. “Yugol, I want the Russian military to get those separatists more weapons.” Pointing to a spot on the map in eastern Ukraine, Omar continued. “Right here, Yugol. This is the tunnel. Just like the Hamas, I want these completed. Let Lemkrof know we will assist with the funding. He needs to step it up and shoot from Russia, as well.”

  Omar took a drink from the water bottle sitting in front of him. “Speaking of tunnels . . . those Jews in Israel have found some of them. Yemi, you’re adding tunnels into Israel, is that correct?”

  A young man in a thobe and checkered keffiyeh stood. He walked around and tapped the screen. A map came up and with each tap increased the size of Israel and Gaza. Red lines revealed the tunnels already built. Yemi pointed out the eight discovered by IDF ground troops and cursed. He then pointed to those just completed outlined in blue. “This one here is the most promising. It gives us the ability to fire on the airport in Tel Aviv. It will only take a few missiles to cause the U.S. and other countries to stop all traffic in and out of the airport. That will kill the economy of Israel.” He laughed. “Whatever works, right?” The young man sat down.

  Omar smiled. “Not only that but having missile launchers in the residential areas definitely helps turn world opinion against Israel when they retaliate.”

  Omar nodded at one of the other men. He stood up and zoomed the map into the countries of Iraq and Syria. “As you know, Israel decimated half of Damascus with their strike and much of Syria’s military. They think they have the upper hand. They have no idea of our resources. Fortunately, ISIS was not deterred by that. We had moved our headquarters to Mosul. Again, we have expelled or killed”—Omar smiled and raised his eyebrows—“or tortured before we killed, all the Christians. Mosul is now totally Muslim. And I rather like it here.” The men clapped.

  “We know we’ll run into resistance, but we’re well prepared. The U.S. trained Iraqi soldiers are weak. We torture, they run away. They have fortified Baghdad, but we have time, we have weapons, chemical and military, and we have money. They think Iran will help them, but we will eventually take over Iran as well, or . . . ” He tilted his head. “Maybe Israel will take out Iran for us.” Everyone laughed. “Whatever works.”

  “So, in summary, we will take Ukraine and move into Slovakia and Czech Republic, cutting off a lot of U.S. assistance in the European theater. The U.S. President will continue to vacillate while assuming that his words accomplish great things.” Omar rolled his eyes. “By the time they assist Ukraine as they promised years ago when Ukraine got rid of their nuclear facilities, we will have taken over through Lemkrof. ISIS is just waiting for the right time and we will have all of Iraq and possibly Iran. If we don’t get Israel in the next few months, I’m confident Hamas will destroy their economy. I want more planes shot down, more missiles shot, more land taken over.”

  Omar spread his hands. “This is what we were born to do. This is the plan of Allah. This is the caliphate. This will usher in the Twelfth Imam.” A shiver went through Omar. Deep within he felt the words. “Remember I will pursue you until you pursue Me.” Omar bent over and coughed.

  Two men jumped up to assist, but he straightened himself and lifted his voice. “Men, you know your assignments. We will have our caliphate!” All the men stood up and cheered.

  The men filed out to honor prayer time and get something to eat. Omar gathered his papers and files, placing them in his brief case, and glanced up. An older man stood just inside the door opposite where the others left. The shiver he felt just moments before returned.

  “Grandfather, what brings you here? I’m feeling fine, no need to check up on me.” Few people could make Omar’s knees shake. Actually no one could intimidate him except this one man. Grandfather had the heart of a lion, but it was surrounded with steel. Omar knew his love, but he knew even better his authority.

  “It’s your brothers.” Grandfather stayed where he was. There was no movement toward Omar. Somehow this was not a good sign.

  Omar bolstered all his strength, feeling like a little boy in trouble at school. “What has happened? Are they okay? What is it?”

  Grandfather did not answer until Omar stood just two feet away. “They have left. Gone to Qatar.”

  Omar smiled, hoping to hear good news. “Joining our cousin released from Gitmo to get some terror events started in the U.S. That’ll be great. I haven’t heard from our cousin and planned to contact him later today.”

  Grandfather shook his head. “No, son, Daran and Saiim got a small taste of power and liked it. Your returning from the dead did not sit well with them. They want you to go back there. Yes, they want you dead. Your cousin was only too happy to accommodate their desires. Whether he will work with them to take you out or he will just use their energy to accomplish his own plans, I don’t know. But you are on their list.”

  Omar glared. “Theirs and everybody else’s. I will get a couple of my guys on their tail. Should I take them out, Grandfather?”

  “They are your brothers. But, we shall see.”

  “What do you think is their plan? Hamas is with us and Qatar is funding Hamas.”

  Grandfather stepped toward Omar and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know how slippery loyalty can be. Hamas only wants money, next to Israel’s demise, and if Qatar or Turkey provides it, or your brothers, they will do anything. Let’s walk. You need to know something.”

  The sigh rose up within Omar and it came out. He tried to hold it back. He did not have time for a lecture. He, Omar, was the lecturer now, but this was Grandfather and as a grandson, he could not dissuade the old man from what he set his mind to do. He walked.

  “The drone. Remember the drone.”

  “Yes, well, no. I don’t remember it, but I remember that it happened, and I almost died.”

  “You did die, Omar.”

  The shiver again. Omar ignored it. “Are you hungry, Grandfather? Food is being served down the hall.”

  Grandfather stopped. “Omar. Look at me.”

  Omar stopped, sighed again, turned and looked at the old man. He wanted to look at his watch. He had business to do. This was not the time for . . .

  “The drone was from your brothers.”

  Omar saw white. Then he saw black. Red rose in front of him next. Then he took a breath. He turned and slammed his fist into the wall. Every blood vessel in his neck pulsed.

  “I should have known. I should have known. Why are you just telling me this?”

  Grandfather shrugged. “Omar, believe me, I just found out myself. When they left, I went through their technology. They didn’t know I had access. However,” Grandfather looked at Omar. “I know. I should have been checking before. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t check it. Please forgive me. They tricked me into thinking they were totally with me, with you.”

  “Grandfather, I forgive you. Do you have anything that can help me now?”

  “Only that they are in constant contact with your cousin in Qatar. I assume that is where they have gone. You are welcome to go through the technology.”

  “I will send someone home with you to check it. Right now, I need to return to the meeting room. I have much business to conduct today. Thank you, Grandfather for letting me know. I’m sorry I cannot spend more time with you.”

  Grandfather nodded, then grimaced. He placed his hand on
his chest and breathed in deeply. The old man momentarily slumped against the wall and sweat poured down his face. Omar grabbed his arms, but his grandfather shook his head. He straightened himself with much effort. “You do your work, Omar. Be careful. I am fine, simply old.”

  Omar called to his assistant coming down the hall to attend to his grandfather and examine the technological secrets of his brothers.

  Omar watched his grandfather walk slowly down the hall with the assistant, then turned and retraced his steps to the meeting room. He signaled to another of his men, who had already returned from prayers and eating, to find him some food.

  Glad to know it was his brothers, vying for power, who tried to oust him that day in Damascus, Omar still felt unsettled. They were at it again, and with the Gitmo terrorists who had a lot of methods up their sleeves. And who knew which of his assistants may have been won over or bought by his brothers. Omar cursed under his breath. He hated living suspiciously. He wanted to be in control. He was in control, but who in this room wanted his brothers in control.

  He informed his body guards, hoping none of them had been bought out while he was in the hospital. He told them to be constantly doubly vigilant. He would not live afraid. He would live alert and in charge. That’s it. It was settled. He made a couple phone calls. There. His brothers would be history very soon.

  He’d like to take out his cousin, as well. But he would wait to learn what the technology information revealed. His brothers had to go now. Omar did not have time to worry about them. He knew it would grieve his grandfather as he loved them as well, but this was now necessary business. Grandfather had not been effective in controlling them, so it was Omar’s decision. Omar was in charge.

  His grandfather died of a heart attack that night. Omar’s assistant had just finished searching through the computer connection his grandfather had maintained. One person in Omar’s circle had been revealed as joining the brothers. Omar shot him the moment he found out. There was no evidence that his cousin in Qatar was with them. Perhaps his cousin thought the brothers were bringing information from Omar. Well, hopefully they wouldn’t arrive.

 

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