Return to Armageddon

by Gar Wilson

  "I am aware of my men's apprehension concerning this Katzenelenbogen," Hassan said with a sigh, weary of the conversation. "But I fail to see how five men can make any difference. We knew we'd have to deal with Israel's own intelligence and military personnel. That didn't stop us. How great a concern can five men be?"

  "Five extraordinary men," Fawzi remarked.

  "My group leader in Israel will take care of them," Hassan assured him. "Our main target remains the prime minister."

  "I only wish I could be there to see that Jewish pig die," Fawzi said bitterly.

  * * *

  Nasser Fawzi was born in 1943 in a village near Deir Yassin in Palestine. His father was a peasant goat farmer who also sold yogurt to people in and around the community of Deir Yassin.

  When Nasser was five years old, he was stricken with pneumonia. His mother and father took him to a nearby Red Cross station for treatment. He never saw his parents again.

  While he was being treated, his village was wiped out by Jewish Irgun terrorists. Red Cross representatives actually witnessed the massacre; two hundred fifty Arabs were killed.

  Nasser Fawzi was adopted by a family of Palestinians who fled to Syria. The boy's sorrow over the death of his parents turned to hatred and a desire to inflict suffering on the people of Israel.

  In 1958, an army captain named Ahmed Jibril formed a nucleus of the PFLP. Fifteen-year-old Nasser Fawzi eagerly volunteered to join the group. The Syrian terrorists launched a series of commando-style raids into Israel, attacking numerous kibbutz settlements, murdering dozens of Jews:

  Jibril's group acquired a reputation as the most vicious of the fedayeen organizations. He broke off all relations with the Marxist, George Habbash, because he considered Habbash to be a weakling. Jibril even criticized Yasser Arafat for being a moderate who would never be militant enough to destroy the Jews.

  Jibril believed in action, not words. He proved just how ruthless he could be in 1970 when he launched a rocket into an Israeli school bus, murdering nine children. The world, including most Arab nations, condemned this cruel, inexcusable atrocity. Nasser Fawzi applauded it and continued to follow Jibril.

  Then Fawzi discovered that Jibril's true allegiance was to the Soviet Union. Jibril — like George Habbash, Mohammed Salameh and many other terrorist leaders — had been trained at the Patrice Lummumba University in Russia. He had a KGB "control" who operated from the Soviet Embassy in Beirut. Jibril was serving Moscow's interests in the Middle East, not the interests of the Arab people.

  Thus Fawzi broke with the PLF and formed his own terrorist organization — the United Arab Front. Dedicated to uniting all Arab nations to crush Israel, it proved to be even more radical and vicious than Jibril's group.

  Fawzi considered himself a realist. After Israel was destroyed, the Arabs would have to remain united under a Marxist government. The new united Arab states would still do business with the Soviets, although they would have to take care not to give the Russians a chance to seize control. The capitalist West would be shunned, especially the United States, which could not be forgiven for supporting Israel.

  Fawzi, however, found little backing for his plan. Even the majority of Arab terrorists realized the scheme was absurd. Ironically, the Soviets were one of Fawzi's few allies. Moscow regarded the UAF as a tiny group of lunatics, too small to cause any conflicts large enough to worry Mother Russia. The Russians felt certain the UAF would be shot down, so supplying them with arms would only help contribute to the turmoil the Kremlin wanted in the Middle East.

  Since Fawzi could not get the Arab nations to see the "wisdom" of his plan against the Jews, there seemed to be only one alternative: he decided to incite a war between Israel and Egypt in the hope that the rest of the Middle East would be unable to avoid getting involved.

  * * *

  "Are you certain nothing will go wrong this time?" Fawzi asked Hassan.

  "The man ordered to kill the prime minister has been specially trained for this sort of mission," the Assassin chief assured him. "I should have used him in the beginning. He's an explosives expert."

  "It won't be easy for him to plant a bomb..."

  "That will not be a problem," Hassan said.

  "What do you mean?" Fawzi demanded. "The Jew will be well protected. Security will be very strict."

  "Do not worry, Colonel," Hassan urged. "The prime minister is as good as dead. As a matter of fact, you'll even get your wish."

  "My wish?" Fawzi said, frowning.

  "To see the Israeli die," Hassan replied. "You can watch it tomorrow morning — on television."

  12

  "So what's a nice Jewish girl like you doing in a place like this?" Rafael Encizo asked with grin.

  "I can't believe you actually said that," Rachel Stern replied with a laugh. "What a line."

  The couple were seated at a table in the Shaldag Inn, a restaurant with a reputation for having the best seafood in Tel Aviv.

  "Ah," the Cuban remarked, "I see you do know how to laugh. I was afraid you had lost the ability. You always seem so serious."

  "I'm in a serious business," the girl replied, using her fork to cut off a piece of karpyon. Israelis consider carp a delicacy.

  "How did you become involved in this line of work?" the Cuban inquired.

  "I was born in Israel," Rachel began, "which means I was exposed to several languages since childhood. By the time I was eighteen, I spoke Hebrew, English and French fluently. In the military, they taught me Arabic as well. I served as a translator in 1973 when Egyptian soldiers crossed the Suez Canal to try and seize control of Sinai. That reinforced my belief that Israeli must always be ready to deal with aggression."

  "It's been said that Sadat launched the invasion largely to prove that Egypt wasn't the military pushover she appeared after the Six Day War," Encizo commented.

  "I suppose you believe that even then, Sadat was planning to propose peace with Israel?" Rachel clucked her tongue in disgust.

  "I think it's possible," the Cuban answered. "If Sadat hadn't proven that Egypt could fight, he would have made the peace offer under weak conditions and lost face with the other Arab leaders. Don't forget, after he replaced Nasser as president, Sadat broke off Egypt's ties with the Soviet Union and kicked about seventeen-thousand Russian advisors out of his country. Anybody who tells Moscow to go to hell deserves some credit."

  "You think that all evil comes from the Kremlin?" Rachel inquired.

  "I know a lot of it does," Encizo replied. "I was captured by Castro's troops after the Bay of Pigs fiasco. They sent me to El Principe, a political prison where I was starved and tortured. When that didn't work, they forced me to stay awake for three days and nights to wear me down. Besides questioning me about the attempted invasion, they also tried to 're-educate' me. Russian 'technicians' supervised this behavior reconditioning to try and get me to embrace communism.

  "I was told that the only hope for the oppressed masses was through Marxist-Leninism under the wise leadership of Comrade Fidel and Nikita Khrushchev. I resisted for a while and then pretended to have a change of political heart,'' the Cuban continued. "I agreed with their bullshit and they rewarded me. I was allowed to sleep. The beatings stopped and I received more food."

  "How'd you get out of there?" she asked.

  "They got careless with me after they thought I was responding to their re-education. I eventually got a chance to jump a guard. I broke his neck and escaped. That's a rather long story. A damn good one, but long."

  "You'll have to tell me some time," Rachel said. "Please don't misunderstand me. I also hate the Russians."

  There was a lull in the conversation. Rafael finally broke it.

  "I didn't invite you to dinner to discuss politics."

  "Why did you ask me to have dinner with you?" Rachel inquired, raising an eyebrow.

  "You're a fascinating lady," he replied. "A combination of beauty and intelligence."

  "What interests you the most, Rafael?"
<
br />   "Do I have to choose one?"

  "How does kafeh Turkee sound for dessert?" Rachel asked. "It's Turkish coffee."

  "Changing the subject?" the Cuban asked.

  "For now."

  * * *

  The couple took a taxi to the November Apartments building. Encizo and Rachel entered the building. A brief elevator trip took them to the twelfth floor. They emerged in a corridor, deserted except for a janitor who was sweeping the floor.

  "I'll see you to your door," Encizo told the woman.

  "That's not necessary," she said.

  "Of course it isn't, but I'm a bit old-fashioned about such things."

  "You're quite a fellow, Rafael," she said as they strolled down the corridor.

  Rachel led the way to her apartment. She inserted a key into the door, unlocked it, then turned to face Encizo.

  "I really had a nice evening and I do like you, Rafael," she said. "But it isn't wise to get close to anyone when you're involved in this sort of work."

  "Afraid of being hurt?" Encizo asked.

  "Something like that," she admitted.

  "That's part of life no matter what you do," the Cuban stated. "When you allow yourself to care about anyone, you take the risk of getting hurt."

  He cupped Rachel's face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers in a brief, yet tender kiss. Rachel resisted for a moment, then responded in kind. Encizo gently broke contact.

  "Good night, Rafael," she said. "And thank you."

  The woman entered her room. Encizo waited until she closed the door before he turned to leave. The sound of a fist striking flesh, followed by Rachel's cry of pain, immediately drew him back to the door.

  "Allah akbar," a voice shouted from behind the Cuban.

  Encizo pivoted, drawing his Walther PPK from shoulder leather as he turned to face the new threat. The Arab janitor lunged at him, a dagger raised for attack.

  Encizo fired into the charging assailant. A .380 dum-dum round punched into the Arab's chest, but it did not even slow him down. He closed in and thrust the knife at Encizo's chest. The Cuban barely sidestepped in time to avoid the poison-stained blade.

  The Cuban seized the Assassin's forearm before the man could use the knife again. Encizo jammed the muzzle of his Walther under the Arab's chin and pulled the trigger. A 95-grain slug tore through the hollow of the killer's jaw, sliced his tongue and split the roof of his mouth.

  Encizo shoved the twitching corpse aside. The terrorist dropped to the floor. The Cuban turned back to Rachel's apartment. The door burst open and another wild-eyed Assassin leaped at Encizo.

  Both men crashed into a wall. The PPK was jarred from Encizo's grasp. The steel blade of a dagger flashed in the terrorist's fist as he swung the weapon at the Cuban's throat. Encizo jerked away from the knife.

  Encizo's hand snaked out and caught the Assassin's wrist. He twisted the knife away from his throat and tried to drive a knee into the man's groin. He struck a thigh muscle. The terrorist struggled violently. Encizo rammed a fist under the man's ribs.

  The killer grabbed Encizo's throat, his thumb digging into windpipe. The Cuban gave his opponent two more rib shots. The Assassin groaned and his grip loosened. The Phoenix Force defender clubbed the Arab's forearm with his fist to break the killer's choke-hold.

  Encizo swung his elbow into the man's face. The terrorist's cheekbone cracked from the force of the blow, yet his head hardly moved from the impact. He savagely pumped a knee into Encizo's abdomen. The Cuban gasped but still held on to the wrist behind the killer's knife as both men stumbled away from the wall.

  The Cuban heard voices of utter surprise and alarm as nearby tenants peered from their doorways. He suddenly bent his knees and abruptly lowered himself backward. His left thigh and buttock hit the floor as he pulled the startled terrorist forward.

  The Cuban's right foot caught the man in the midriff. He rolled back, pumping his leg to send the killer sailing overhead in a judo circle-throw. The Assassin crashed to the floor. Encizo immediately leaped to his feet and reached for the Gerber Mark I he had strapped to his ankle.

  With a snarl, the terrorist rose from the floor and angrily lunged at Encizo, thrusting the dagger at the Cuban's chest. Encizo waited for the charge then slashed the Gerber at his attacker. The razor-sharp, double-edged fighting knife sliced through flesh and muscle. The Assassin screamed and dropped his dagger as blood spurted from severed arteries in his wrist.

  The Cuban's tactic caught the terrorist completely off guard. Stunned and disoriented, the Arab made a wild grab for Encizo's knife. The Phoenix Force pro feinted a quick jab with the Gerber to distract his opponent. Then Encizo executed a lightning-fast backhand slash that caught the terrorist under the jawline.

  Sharp steel split open the man's throat. Blood gushed from the horrible wound. The Arab fell to his knees, hands groping at his neck in a hopeless attempt to stop his life from spilling out. He failed. The Assassin fell on his face and died.

  Tenants were screaming for the police. A sergeant in the Israeli reserves emerged from his room with a .45 Colt 1911A1 in his fist. Encizo heard the man shout something in Hebrew.

  Encizo did not even bother to turn around to see what the Israeli wanted. He bolted for Rachel's apartment, fearful that the woman might already have come to harm.

  The Phoenix Force warrior found Rachel struggling with another Arab assailant. The Assassin had pinned Rachel to the floor and was trying to strangle her. The woman fought well. She raked her nails across the man's face. The killer screamed in agony as blood oozed from a torn eyeball. The bastard may have been wired in drugs, but nothing could make him immune to such fiery pain.

  Furious, the terrorist raised a fist to strike the woman. Encizo grabbed the man's arm before he could throw a punch. The Cuban yanked the terrorist off Rachel and slammed a knee under the Arab's jaw.

  The man's head bounced backward from the blow. Encizo immediately thrust the point of his Gerber into the hollow of the Assassin's exposed throat. The man's mouth fell open and blood spewed out. The terrorist sprawled on the carpet, his body trembling. Then all trace of life ceased and the man lay still with Encizo's knife still buried in his throat.

  "Rachel," Encizo said as he knelt beside her. "Are you okay?"

  "It's nothing I won't get over," she replied, rubbing her bruised jaw. "Your timing is excellent. How can I repay you?"

  Suddenly the Israeli sergeant appeared in the doorway and aimed his .45 at Encizo. The man snapped a command in Hebrew. Encizo did not know what it meant, but he decided it would not hurt to raise his hands.

  "You might start by telling this fella what happened," Encizo told Rachel.

  13

  "Katzenelenbogen," the prime minister greeted when he saw the Phoenix Force leader entering his hospital room. "I was told you were here."

  "How are you feeling, sir?" Yakov inquired as he closed the door.

  "Like I recently had a heart attack," the prime minister said, smiling weakly.

  He lay in a large bed. The back section was raised, allowing him to sit up. Katz noted the Israeli's sickly pale color. He seemed very, very tired.

  "The last time we spoke was two years ago, correct?" the prime minister remarked.

  "Yes," Katz replied. "I'm sure you know what I want to speak with you about, sir."

  "I've been told that someone tried to kill me. That is not a new experience for me. People have been trying to kill me for half a century. I'm not going to start worrying about that now."

  "You're aware that the assassins were Egyptians?" Katz asked.

  "That is what I've been told."

  "A lot of people in your administration think the government in Cairo sent the killers. Do you believe that?"

  "No, I do not believe President Mubarak would send assassins to kill me."

  "I don't believe it either," Katz told him. "I have reason to suspect we're up against a highly efficient clandestine organization with agents scattered throughout the Middle East."


  "The Russians?" the prime minister said, frowning as he adjusted his eyeglasses.

  "No," Katz said. "I think we're dealing with a different kind of clandestine network... older by centuries than the KGB. An independent intelligence branch with no political allegiance, consisting of fanatics who are totally loyal to a false religious leader who is in fact a cunning mercenary."

  "How melodramatic," the prime minister said. "They certainly sound colorful."

  "I don't know if I'd call the Order of the Assassins colorful," Katz said. "Are you familiar with the history of the Hashishins?"

  "I know they haven't been active for more than two hundred years."

  "I have reason to believe someone has managed to revive it."

  "What proof do you have?"

  Katz explained the incidents that had occurred since Phoenix Force arrived in Israel. "I just identified the star-shaped tattoo found on several of the dead terrorists," he continued." It is the mark of an initiate in the Order of the Assassins."

  "A crude star can mean anything, Yakov," the prime minister replied.

  "The emblem on the bruss shirts — and the amulet is also an Assassin symbol," the colonel stated. "The sign of the Order."

  "That proves that the Arab terrorists involved may have adopted some Assassin symbols," the prime minister said. "The swastika was originally a symbol of enlightment in Asia, yet the Nazis chose it for their party emblem."

  "Damn it," Katz snapped. "You're the most stubborn man I've ever met. Why are you fighting me about this?"

  "Because we have to consider all possibilities, Colonel," the prime minister answered. "What other proof do you have?"

  "The members of the Assassins have traditionally come from the Ismailis Muslim sect," Katz said. "We've checked with the personnel computers and discovered that most of the terrorists who we've killed in battle have been Ismailis. Several were also listed as security risks due to fanatical behavior in the past. Major Nizam, the Egyptian security officer sent to help us, contacted Cairo and checked on the Egyptian terrorists involved. All were Ismailis Muslims."