The Zondon: Terrorists and Aliens (an International Suspense Thriller)

by RobCharters

  Give them their canon fodder. Make it so that the fight that will ensue will end in total devastation, fought with intense mutual hatred to the last drop of blood -- Armageddon, if you will. However many Jews died in the meantime, well -- Joseph, this great-grandson of the Rebbe of Markovitch, wasn't sure he loved the Jews so well himself.

  But the end would justify it all. True peace on earth could only come from an other-than-human source, but humanity wasn't ready for that yet. Sooner or later they would be. By speeding up the chain of events, the wake-up call would come sooner than later, and man would realise his need for extraterrestrial help. When that time came Stanovitch would stand ready to provide them with just that. He had direct contact.

  Small minds like Les' could never fathom such a great master-plan. The only hope for the likes of him and Gilbert, was to be pushed along their sheltered paths towards objectives of their own, the destruction of their enemies as they perceived them. So what if Les' and this Thomas-bloke's enemies were, indeed, each other? That was part of the master plan, but they were better off not knowing it.

  Thomas' mistake was not playing by the rules. Les' was in asking too many questions and looking about him a bit too thoroughly so that he knew just enough to make himself dangerous. He was already planting doubts in the Nazi boy's mind, Joseph could tell.

  Was that all there was to it?

  There was a certain something about Les this time. Joseph had agreed once before that they must have met in a previous life, but this time, there was something striking about him that made him seem more firmly connected to whatever that was.

  He was connected, but it wasn't to Stanovitch's power network. It was to something else. That made him an enemy. Therefore, he must be stopped.

  Joseph was already on his way to Heathrow to catch a flight back to Zurich. Perhaps he should give the good doctor a call. He took his mobile phone out of his pocket.

  Before punching the selection from the directory menu, he concentrated his mind to send an impulse the Doctor's way, so that he would know who was about to ring, and the nature of the call. It was safer that way, as the electronic caller ID could be manipulated to deceive.

  '...Yes, Joseph. I already know about Les,' said the doctor after he had related the incident to him briefly. 'You're right. He must be destroyed, which he will be shortly. In the mean time, you, Joseph, listen to me. You know your destiny. Don't let anything he says sway you from that.'

  As if it would.

  'He never saw the whole picture, so don't be confused by anything he may try to tell you. Any impressions you gained from him, obliterate them from your mind. I mean it.

  'Meanwhile, Joseph,' obviously the doctor was ready for this call, 'we have to move up the order of events. The end must come more quickly then we previously planned. I have already met with Mr. Lim in Tokyo. A sizeable portion of the Chinese military and political establishment is at his beck and call. The rest could be brought into line, given a major hiccough in the financial sector. He is in Istanbul right now, staying at the Hyatt Regent. Meet him there, ASAP and arrange that with him. With just the right push in the right place, as you know how to do, China is in the bag.

  'After that, I want you to meet with Aziz, who will be in Hamburg on Monday. As soon as things are ready, I'll inform you of the target date. On that day, Iraq will be ready, Belgrade will be ready, and pending the success of your arrangements with Mr. Lim, China will be ready. I'm working something out with some of our people in P'yongyang to fire the signal rocket, at which point "Operation Nostradamus" will proceed. Everything should go just as Nostradamus predicted. He was a good man, that Nostradamus. He just needs a bit of help from the right quarters to get his predictions off the ground. You find out what Aziz needs as far as logistics for his end of the plan, and make sure he gets it.

  'Now, Joseph, while you're talking to Aziz, I also want you to ask him one question. When I was in Kabul, his old boss wasn't clear on certain details, and Aziz wasn't there for me to ask. I want you to ask him, where did he get his messengers for "Operation Pig Slaughter". What were they given as far as passports and other identification, what names are they travelling under, and how can they be reached? If he's unclear, remind him, there was an Irish man, a Malaysian woman and an Afghan boy of about 12 or so. The reason you must obtain this information is this: They are the same people who got to Les and infiltrated his mind. What you may mention to Aziz is that they were spies and that they undermined his operation. One more person has also joined their group, a woman, I think. All of them, along with Les, must be destroyed at all costs.

  'Any questions?'

  'No sir. I'll proceed to Istanbul right now,' was Joseph's reply.

  There were questions he could have asked about the mysterious messengers who had bewitched Les, but he didn't want to know about that right now. As with the issue of the Nazis, the less he knew, the better. Something about it was just a little bit too up-close for him to deal with right now. He'd get all the information he needed from Aziz.

  He got off at the airport, made his way to the ticket office, and paid his fare to Istanbul.

  Chapter 39

  Eliyahu Gilderman, known to all as the old Rebbe of Markovitch had somehow found his way to Jerusalem after the Tsar had evicted the Jews from the village of that name. With his wife and his youngest son -- the son of his old age -- and a handful of his pupils, they had made the long tiresome journey in stages, finally finding a small flat in the Jewish Quarter of the old city. There, they lived, and there he taught his pupils, and there Simcha, the son of his old age, began to follow in his footsteps.

  The old rebbe was fortunate in many respects: to die at an old age in the city where his heart belonged; to see the son of his old age married to Rivka, the daughter of his oldest pupil; to have attended the bar mitzvah of his grandson, Yo'el, their only child; all that and yet die before his eyes saw the pain and suffering that befell the city at the war of independence.

  He was blessed, but all who knew him didn't feel so fortunate, not only that they had to live through this terror, but also because they had lost a true father indeed. Not just Simcha, but a host of the rebbe's followers were left orphans.

  Though by no means the oldest of the old rebbe's pupils, Simcha was chosen to take on the mantel of his father. Yet, he declined the title of 'Rebbe', as he didn't believe that the community needed such a personage. Simply 'Rabbi' would do, he said. After all, leadership is in the leading, he said, and that depends on a place to be led to. He didn't know of any such place other than where his father had already led them, to Ha Kotel, the very wall of the old temple in the promised land. His father had been a Moses to the community, but Simcha wasn't a Joshua. That role wasn't to be until Ha Moshiach ben David.

  What he didn't know was that he would soon be leading the small community away from that wall, out Zion Gate, and down into the neighbourhood of Mea Shearim. After the aforementioned terror, the siege, the food shortage, the fighting in the streets, and finally victory -- victory, that is, for Israel to enjoy independence, not for Jews to live near the wall of the Holy Sanctuary -- the whole Jewish Quarter had to evacuate.

  The Gilderman home, which became the Yeshiva by default, was on the edge of Mea Shearim, not far from Strauss Street. There, they would perform the mitzvot (the commandments) and wait for Ha Moshiach (Messiah), whose immanent arrival was Rabbi Simcha's favourite topic of discussion.

  There in the yeshiva, Yo'el grew to be an adult.

  Had Simcha equated a son's choice not follow in his father's footsteps, with being a failure in life, he would have been disappointed in Yo'el. After taking some Talmudic study at his father's yeshiva, he decided, instead to take engineering at the Hebrew University. Simcha was wise enough to give him his blessing. After all, as he said, if everyone did nothing but study Torah, who would there be left to see that the trains run on time?

  So, Yo'el became an architectural engineer. Despite his succe
ss, he was content to live just off Ha Nevi'im street, not far from his parents home. Others of his contemporaries chose to live in luxuriant Rehavia, or even farther, some in Tel Aviv or Haifa, or Miami, as far from home as they could get, probably driven away by their parents high expectations. Thus, Yo'el remained a part of the social and religious life of the Gilderman Yeshiva. He married Elisheva, who was a classmate in some of his classes, now a fellow engineer and the daughter of an Orthodox rabbi.

  The birth of Yo'el's and Elisheva's twins was a special event. To punctuate just how special it was, G-d reopened the old city. The gunshots from what was to become known as the Six Day War had barely faded. The old city was reopen, and the Wailing Wall was suddenly back at the centre of Jewish religious life. The soldiers, of course, were the first to the scene, but next was Rabbi Simcha. His prayer was that of thanksgiving for the newly born twins.

  He took the birth of twins as a sign from G-d. No one thoroughly understood it all, but it had something to do with a shooting star he had seen one night, which apparently, he had been expecting. Everyone had thought he was off his pod, but when twins were subsequently born, just as he said they would be, despite no one in the family ever having twins, they all just kept their mouths shut.

  So, the twins, Yakov and Yosef grew up, learned the Torah in their Talmud Torah classes, received their basic education in Israeli primary and secondary school, and the rest of it.

  Yosef, like his Biblical namesake, was the dreamy one. Everybody used to tell him to shut up about his dreams and concentrate on his studies. Only his grandfather would listen to his accounts of the stars and of a green crystal. He listened with such interest that some of the others in the family thought he was a bit of a dreamy one himself. But, he reminded them, he had once seen a shooting star that had heralded the birth of these twins. That, too, he pointed out, was the same colour as the crystal in the boy's dreams. So again, everybody kept their mouths shut.

  Everyone thought it would be Yosef that would follow in the footsteps of his grandfather. Instead it was Yakov.

  Yo'el thought his sons should take at least two years of university before beginning religious studies. That would give them a more well rounded education.

  After two years, Yakov began at the Gilderman Yeshiva, but not Yosef. He had become sidetracked. It seemed that a certain bald headed Russian doctor had taken an interest in him.

  Rabbi Simcha took an instant disliking to the doctor. He couldn't put a finger on it exactly, but he knew that the doctor was evil and forbade Yosef from ever having any contact with him.

  Just as his allowing Yo'el the freedom to choose had strengthened the bond between father and son, so forbidding Yosef drove his grandson away. But a line had to be drawn somewhere. He hardly saw Yosef again after that. All he knew now was that he had gone into the business of finance and had an office in Zurich.

  Yakov was the obedient one. Through a miracle of stamina he had kept the Russian doctor, Stanovitch, at arms length, despite the appeals to his religious zeal. Stanovitch had held out the promise that he would be a great success would he only accept a leadership role in the formation of a new West Bank settlement. He stubbornly refused, and henceforth observed from a distance as the settlement was later launched on what used to be a peaceful Palestinian neighbourhood. He continued to follow the developments of its progress as it became a stronghold of nationalistic fanaticism, the kind of place that gives West Bank settlements everywhere a bad name.

  Now, he was Rabbi Yakov. Had his father consented to the title of Rebbe of Markovitch, Yakov would have, in his turn, inherited that title, so well he followed in the spirit of his grandfather and great grandfather before him.

  By the time the subject of green crystals and shooting stars began to surface again in the Gilderman household, Rabbi Yakov was happily instructing a group of his own Torah pupils. Rabbi Simcha would sit at the old oak table and discuss halacha and other energising issues with the old men and rabbis who took pleasure in dropping in. Whether it was for the interesting discussions and pil pul that they dropped by, or for Rivka's cheese blintzes, washed down with glasses of hot tea with lemon and an occasional vodka, it was hard to tell.

  It was while he was thus engaged, that one of the pupils went to answer the buzz at the door. There, on the doorstep were two Irishmen and a young boy who could have been Jewish or Palestinian or whatever.

  'Is there a Rabbi Gilderman living here?' enquired one of them in as slow clear English as he could muster up.

  The pupil went to fetch the nearest Rabbi Gilderman, who happened to be the elder. His own rabbi had gone off on an errand, leaving the pupils with a passage from Baba Kamma to memorise and discuss.

  When the old rabbi came to the door, one of the visitors said, 'We are looking for a Rabbi Gilderman, the twin brother of a Joseph Gilderman.'

  'Yes, yes, come inside. Rabbi Yakov the twin is out. What do you know of Yosef?'

  They came inside, the rabbi asked his other guests to excuse him, and led them into an inner study. The two began to tell him what they knew of Yosef, beginning with the one, Les Armstrong's relationship with him through Dr. Stanovitch.

  Rabbi Simcha almost called the conversation to an abrupt close at the mention of that name, but Les quickly assured him that he had broken away from the evil influence of the man, and that moreover, his intention was to help Yosef to do the same. Then, he had his complete attention.

  The other man, Ernie, then asked if Yosef had ever had dreams of the stars or of a green crystal. The rabbi launched into the following story:

  'After my father was gathered to his fathers, there were exactly ten of us, including the boys who had reached the age of bar mitzvah. Thus, we, the pupils of my father, the Rebbe of Markovitch made a full congregation or minyan. And congregate, we did, at Ha Kotel (the Wall). Other congregations had their synagogues. And us? We would go to Ha Kotel, or when the raindrops fell or the bullets flew (which was often) we used our place of study.

  'It was our last time to congregate at Ha Kotel, before we had to evacuate from the Old City. We had said the Shema, and were reciting the 18 benedictions. One of the benedictions is one of protection against our enemies. After each benediction, we are allowed to add personal requests. Normally, we are silent as we pray through the 18, but on this one, I felt I must speak up. I said, "Send us the seven planters of the garden to defend the borders of our habitation".

  'I don't know if it was the way in which I said it -- it felt as though the words burst forth from my innermost part -- but all ten of us answered with a resounding "Omain".

  'Then, I had the impression of seeing a brilliant green shooting star. A voice seemed to say, "This will be the sign that your prayer has been answered. Twins will be born to your family, and you will offer thanksgiving before this wall." That was the last time we were able to congregate at the wall. It became too dangerous to even so much as leave our homes, and soon after, we had to evacuate the Old City.

  'Nineteen years later, as I stood at the upstairs window, I saw the brilliant green shooting star pass over the city during a power blackout. Ten months later, the twins were born. That was during the Six Day War, and the Old City reopened just in time for me to offer praise to G-d for twins before the very Wall. That was my next visit, 19 years later, and I stood in the same spot.'

  * * *

  For another hour, they gave the rabbi a history of their mission. After that, he seemed as much a part of it as the Zondon. He absolutely insisted that the group of them stay at the yeshiva. Some of the students doubled up to make room for them all. .

  After a few days, Ernie, May Lin and Les flew away to Belfast, Les to look up Thomas Gromley, and Ernie and May Lin with a matter of business of their own.

  Chapter 40

  While hacking the server of Gilderman and Associates, Ibrahim found the following email:

  Subject: Re: as per our meeting

  To: limtongchu@xx.com

&n
bsp; Cc: nicolai@xx.com

  From: Joseph@xx.com

  Thank you for your information. This will be

  helpful indeed. I have deposited the sum of

  USD42 million into your corporate account,

  which should more than cover your expenses.

  Since we met, I heard from Dr. Stanovitch,

  who had just finished working out the details

  of the plan. The target date is now the 31st

  of August, which is just a week away. A

  missile launched from N Korea will hit Tokyo

  on that date. That should be reported by the

  news media almost immediately, and will be

  the signal for the other parties to launch

  'Operation Nostradamus' simultaneously. It

  should also raise the value of your gold

  reserves considerably.

  on 21/8/98 limtongchu wrote:

  > I have spoken to Mr. Kwo, whom as I told

  > you, has influence with a large portion of

  > the People's Congress, enough to gain us a

  > majority. With a small injection to

  > stimulate his business prospects, he would

  > most happy to co-operate with us.

  >

  > Also, as you know, General Fong stands

  > ready to act. He readily sees the value

  > that such a situation would have to

  > promoting national interests.

  Why this particular email had such low level encryption, unlike most of the others, Ibrahim guessed, was because it was sent from a palm-top. It had only taken him fifteen minutes to decrypt it without even using the crystal.

  He communicated the information to Ernie and May Lin.

  * * *

  Ernie and May Lin had a great time with Ernie's parents. It was a much more satisfying meeting than the one with May Lin's. Her parents, who had never seen a green shooting star, and were already wondering why she abandoned her teaching post at the university, were naturally not as understanding. On top of that was their typical old fashion Chinese suspicion of anything out of the ordinary. Marrying a mat salleh, they weren't so much against, but just the abruptness of it all