by L. Todd Wood
“Hey, I’d vote for you!” laughed Connor.
“Yeah, I’ll get off my soapbox for now, until the tape starts running.”
They ate and drank well into the night, relieved to be enjoying friendship and happiness albeit possibly fleeting. That realization made the evening all the more special.
In the morning, Connor, Peter, and Natasha proceeded to make a video. A video that explained everything they knew about the sultan’s actions. It included his manipulation of the environmental movement, the operatives that were active in various arms of the United States government, the funding of protests and economic terrorism against oil companies. The list went on and on. The final coup de grace was information provided by Eric to Connor on the assassination of former President Walker. The American public could delude themselves that all of the other evidence the video presented was fabricated, but they couldn’t fabricate his death. This video release was going to be a shocker. Eric Barnard had not authorized the information’s release, nor had the U.S. government, but Connor and Peter didn’t care. The information needed to get out, it was that important. The only thing left to do was to transmit the information. That would have to wait until their trip into the nearby village the following day.
The sultan stood at his office window. The bougainvilleas were beautiful as they cascaded down the outside window frame. He had them planted there so he could watch them bloom. They reminded him of his childhood, a long time ago.
The sultan was satisfied. His plans were playing themselves out fairly well to his liking. There had been the occasional bump in the road, such as Murray, that had caused him worry. However, that situation would be taken care of shortly. He was confident of that.
He walked to the credenza behind his desk and picked up his most prized possession. It was a scimitar dating back to the twelfth century. It felt perfect in his hand. The balance was heavenly. The weapon had a long, curved blade that was sharpened on one side with a widened, pointed tip. The handle was wooden with jewels encrusted in the surface. He had purchased the scimitar from a dealer years ago who had traced its origin to the Fatimid dynasty in the eleventh century and the Crusades of Jerusalem. The weapon was the perfect reminder of the sultan’s purpose, of his quest. It also reminded him that his biggest task was still before him.
There was one roadblock in his effort to restore the Muslim caliphate throughout the Middle East and globally. Israel was a tiny nation but unfortunately had shown itself very tenacious in its bid to continue its occupation of Palestine. It was also an island of democracy in a sea of dictatorships. This light must be snuffed out. Their existence must end. The Zionists have always spoken about their wall against the ummah. So far throughout history, it has held. This will change soon. Unfortunately, the tiny Jewish nation had nuclear weapons. This was a big deterrent as the world knew.
However, the sultan was clever as well as devious. This occupation of the Palestinian lands would not last. The Israelites would be defeated. They would soon be destroyed.
He held the scimitar in his hand and imagined his victory. He looked again at his painting of the child being put to the sword. “Vengeance will be ours,” he said aloud.
There was no secret that the United Nations was hostile to Israel. There were countless examples of outright threats to the Jewish State from member states and their people in positions of power at the U.N. These included denial of the holocaust, assistance to Hezbollah in Lebanon, attempting to require Israel to negotiate away its security in the peace process, and resolutions against Israeli acts of self-defense. So it was natural for Israel not to trust their representatives and agenda.
The majority of the animosity against Israel came from the Arab block of approximately twenty nations. This group was typically buttressed by the non-aligned group of developing countries and the Muslim block. Many of these nations did not recognize Israel’s right to exist. Resolution after resolution was passed condemning the Jewish State’s human rights abuses while nothing was said of obvious genocide or ethnic cleansing in other parts of the world.
The U.N. was also active in the Palestinian territories of Gaza and the West Bank in a humanitarian capacity. Vast amounts of food stores and other staples were shipped in on a daily basis from U.N. relief agencies. This provided the sultan an opportunity. Yes, the State of Israel will be destroyed.
Reshma communicated regularly with her superiors in Jerusalem. There was great concern in the halls of the headquarters of the Mossad. There was a lot of chatter on the intelligence networks about something big. Something significant was going to happen, something that could irreparably harm the Jewish State. The problem was the Jewish intelligence service did not know what that something was. They had agents fanned out all over the globe, attempting to shake the bushes and find information. However, so far to no avail.
What they did want to do was expose the sultan’s activities. However, they wanted the information to come from a credible source. If they broadcast an alert to the world about the sultan’s manipulation of environmental groups, the information would be dismissed as from a biased viewpoint. Therefore, they were channeling information to Connor and Peter. Peter was a well-known analyst who had no axe to grind and would be a credible mouthpiece for their concerns. Israel knew the sultan wanted to continue receiving petrodollars from the West, but Israel also knew his main goal was to destroy Israel and reestablish Islamic global domination. It was a fight to the death for the Jewish State. Reshma’s job and her team’s job at this moment was to keep Connor and his friends safe. They needed to keep him alive, at least until he fulfilled his purpose and exposed the sultan to the world. The team left Salvador in multiple vehicles.
Sergei also had friends. There were mercenaries all over the world; one just had to know where to find them. Sergei knew where to find them in Salvador. The Brazilian gangs were well known to the average resident of Brazil’s capital of happiness. The gangs ruled parts of the city where even the police feared to tread. Citizens were subject to beatings, kidnappings, robberies, and murder. Express kidnappings, where the victim was driven to an ATM to withdraw cash for his freedom, were common. Dead bodies were a normal sight on the streets. It didn’t take a lot of money for Sergei to hire four assassins from the local drug lord. Even the gangs respected the violent nature of the Russians. And if there was one thing that Russians had, it was money. They left in a late model SUV on their way to the foothills.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The concept of a Muslim caliphate was started by the disciples of Muhammad after his death. A religious leader or caliph, meaning successor, would rule the Muslim world and its faithful (the ummah) and implement the teachings of Islam according to Sharia law. There were a series of empires across northern Africa and southwest Asia over the ages that were considered Islamic caliphates.
The Rashidun caliphate in the Middle East was ruled by Muhammad’s chosen successors but was marked with intrigue and civil war during the sixth century. After a few generations, it turned into a hereditary dynasty. The Umayyads controlled an empire from Spain to Persia in the seventh and eighth centuries. Although the caliphate controlled parts of three continents, local rulers had great control. Many great works of art and science were perfected during this period, especially on the Iberian Peninsula.
There were various other lines of the caliphate that ruled different parts of northern Africa and the Levant. They were the Abbasids, the Fatimids, and the Mamluks. These empires ended when defeated by the Ottomans in the sixteenth century and the Ottoman Empire was born. This lasted until Kemal Ataturk terminated religious rule and established the modern state of Turkey.
The sultan was well aware of this history. The caliphate across northern Africa and the Middle East would be restored. Israel would be destroyed. Unfortunately, he would have to sacrifice some of the ummah in Palestine to do so. However, the sacrifice was worth it. The faithful would be rewarded in Heaven.
One of three small nuclear devices
was smuggled into the West Bank from Jordan inside a United Nations food container. The sultan’s people hid the device effectively, awaiting further instructions. They were prepared to die for the caliph. The two remaining weapons were to be imported in a different manner to nearby locations.
Connor could not sleep. The heat in the bedroom was stifling, even with the doors open to the outside balcony. However, the heat wasn’t his reason for waking. There was too much on his mind. He looked at Natasha, whose face was bathed in the moonlight shining through the open French doors. She was fast asleep. At least she can get some rest. They were taking a huge risk exposing the sultan and his activities to the world. Where will it end? They would be hunted, he realized that. Hunted forever? How will we live? Well the die is cast. My life has already changed forever. The disturbing thoughts rendered sleep impossible. He went to the toilet to relieve himself and then walked out to the upstairs balcony off the bedroom. The full moon shone brightly and lit up the night sky. It was a calm, hot night. So peaceful here.
Clack.
The sound reverberated up from the road below. The hair rose on the back of Connor’s neck. It was the metal grate on the road. Someone or something passed over it. Connor saw no headlights. He immediately acted on a hunch and woke Natasha. “Where are your weapons?” he said ever so quietly.
She awoke disoriented then replied, “Pachemo?” (why)
“I heard something. I don’t know. I just want to be safe. Get up, quick!”
“They are under the bed.” Fully awake, she immediately got out of the bed, donned her jeans, and a threw on a top. Then she pulled the case from under the bed and opened it. It contained an assault rifle and two pistols with additional clips.
Natasha gave one of the pistols to Connor. He had already grabbed the Beretta the Mossad had provided him from the side table. “Give one to Peter, wake him up!” she commanded.
“Yes.” Connor crept quietly across the hall to the spare bedroom and woke Peter, putting his hand over his mouth. “Quiet. There is someone outside. Here, take this.” He handed Peter the pistol. Peter’s eyes grew wide then his adrenaline kicked in, and he quickly dressed, gun in hand.
They met in the hallway. “Follow me,” commanded Natasha. She pushed a clip into the M-16 and began to go downstairs. “This is an old house. There is a hidden passageway out of the kitchen to the outside servant’s quarters. They wanted the help to come and go without being seen.”
She led them down the stairs to where the food was prepared. Quickly, she put her weapon on the counter near the sink and opened the walk-in pantry. She went to the rear wall and pushed on the shelves. The entire wall gave way and swung open on hinges. Connor gave her back the rifle and they entered, shutting the pantry door and the false wall behind them. Natasha had prepared in advance for this possibility. Inside the tunnel were two sets of face-mounted night vision goggles. It seemed that all of her time was not wasted watching the sugar fields and drinking wine. “Put these on,” she said to Peter and handed him one set. She flicked the switch, which illuminated the goggles. Natasha also put one pair on herself.
Night vision devices were developed during WWII but came into widespread use during the Vietnam War. The optical units allowed images to be produced from almost total darkness. If the moon was full, the display could be almost as bright as day. On the contrary, a dark night would cause the display to be just that—dark.
“I’m going to stay with you,” demanded Connor.
“Da, konyeshna!” (yes, of course) she replied.
They walked slowly through an underground tunnel and exited inside a small, old house about twenty meters to the rear of the main house. Peter walked across the large room to the far window. Natasha and Connor stayed at the window near the tunnel opening. Natasha slid the wooden bar across the tunnel door to prevent anyone from following them and coming in the servant’s house. She wanted no surprises. They slid the windows open as quietly as possible and waited.
Sergei cursed to himself as he walked over the metal grate and heard the unexpected bang of metal on metal. He looked up at the house on the hill but saw no movement. Everything was quiet. He motioned to the four assassins to split up and take different routes to the house. Sergei went straight while the others flanked to the left and right and made their way towards the home. They moved slowly and carefully in the night. He didn’t want any more mistakes.
Sergei approached the porch on the lower level. He tested the door and found that is was locked. He took a small penlight and looked at the lock mounted on the door. It was ancient but functional. The door was not going to budge. He then checked the windows. The window near the door had been left unlocked. He opened the window and quietly climbed into the house. Everything was dark. He waited for his hired guns to get in position on the three sides of the building and then carefully made his way up the stairs. He checked each room. The moon was bright so he had no trouble seeing. Empty. The whole house is empty. He let his mercenaries into the house through the rear doors and commanded two of them to search the entire place. He motioned for the other two to come with him. He remembered Natasha’s vehicle parked out front. “They are here somewhere, find them!” he ordered.
Sergei and the gangster walked through the kitchen at the rear of the house and exited quietly through the back door. The field to the back of the house was empty except for a small structure a short distance away. It looked like a dwelling of some kind. There was also a large barn to the right with an attached silo. A stone wall separated the small house and the farm buildings. Sergei made his way towards the barn and motioned for his colleague to check out the little house.
Connor tensed as he saw the Brazilian heading their way, his pistol out in front of him, straining for a target. Calmly Natasha brought the powerful assault rifle to her shoulder and aimed at the intruder. The Brazilian was ten feet away from the window, looking in the other direction. She fired a burst of shots. The noise shattered the night. The gangster jerked backwards and went down with a grunt as three bullets entered his chest and ripped open his heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.
Sergei dove to the ground and rolled to the stone wall separating the barn from the servant’s quarters. He reasoned the shots had come from the small house. He also deduced it was a rifle shot, not a pistol. He was outgunned. I wasn’t expecting this. He decided he needed to move and dove quickly over the wall for cover. Peter fired two shots from his handgun as Sergei jumped. They ricocheted off the stone wall. Fragments of rock peppered his body. One bullet grazed Sergei’s forehead. Blood dripped into his eyes. He wiped the blood from his face with his shirt. I’ve had enough of this. I know when to fall back and regroup. I’ve lost the element of surprise.
Reshma and her team made their way up the gravel road towards the house. It had been a long drive from Salvador, and their driver had gotten lost several times. They were frustrated. They parked near Natasha’s vehicle and got out. They noticed the lights in the home were all out. I guess we wait in the cars until daybreak, she thought. That won’t be long from now. Then she heard a burst from an automatic weapon. Then two more pops that sounded like a handgun. Damn! I guess we’re too late. They drew their weapons and fanned out to surround the house. Reshma crouched behind a dense bush, took her cell phone out of her pocket, and called Connor. His phone rang.
He saw who was calling and answered. “Yes,” he said quietly.
“It’s Reshma, we are out front. Where are you?”
“In the back of the house in the servant’s quarters.”
“Do you know how many there are or their location?”
“No, there’s one down in the back yard. Another towards the barn behind the wall.”
“Stay in the house. Don’t fire unless you’re directly threatened. I don’t want any friendly fire kills here.”
“Roger that,” replied Connor and relayed to Peter and Natasha. “The cavalry has arrived.”
The United Nations food convoy left t
he storage facility near the Jordanian border to bring supplies to different areas of the West Bank. The trucks were highlighted against the desert as they made their way into the Palestinian territory, their tires kicking dust into the air. However, since this was a regular convoy that made this trip once a week, it caused no alarm on the Israeli side of the border. The trucks made their way south of Jericho but north of the Dead Sea. The driver could see the ruins of an old sugar mill and ancient aquifers that supplied the mill with water. The history here was never ending. This was the Holy Land, a sacred territory for three of the world’s major religions. The ancient conflicts were still being fought.
The West Bank was ruled by the Ottoman Empire for hundreds of years until the twentieth century. After World War II, the land was designated for a Palestinian State by the United Nations. Throughout several wars, the territory changed hands multiple times over the decades and was now ruled by the Palestinian Authority.
The last stop on the relief circuit for the convoy was the area to the east of Jerusalem. Since the Six Day War, the Israelis had controlled the entire city and considered Jerusalem their capital. The line of trucks stopped in an area a safe distance away from Israeli troops and settlements. The massive concrete wall that separated the city from the Palestinian suburbs was plainly visible in the distance. A backpack-sized container was taken from the truck and stored in a food warehouse on the Palestinian side next to the capital of Israel.