by DiMirra
"Keny," I said, "you know I'm not a man of lavish praise but you have exceeded my expectations. I'm proud without measure. It's time for you to start moving around within political circles, offering funding to the parties we agreed upon to rebuild their nations.
"Leave Reza, Sidney and Gary to mop up Voting Machine. You need to be visible, you need to be the resource, and you need to be the man everyone counts on. It's still dangerous out there so take some serious security with you. Be well, My Friend."
"This is the New Africa, Johnny," Keny ended.
"Ali, I will be in Colombia with my hands full. I leave my bodyguard with you and I'm taking the Guardians. You will be here and everything that comes up will be your call. I love you, Son."
Chapter 19
Over the Atlantic: 19:00, January 19th
A pleasing shade of twilight settled over the tarmac as my pilot lined up for takeoff from Marrakesh. I still had the Boeing Business Jet at my service. It was a lovely, long-range airplane. It could make this flight easily without refueling. I had a wonderful ayahuasca mint tea and began to think over 'The Big Questions.'
"Is America an idea or a culture," I wondered? "Possibly, it's too young to be considered a culture. It was certainly a bold experiment and it worked for a while. It was founded on grand ideals and hard work and immigrants who wanted to naturalize and fit in.
"America's great undoing was twofold. First, she became an empire and a policeman to the world. This emptied her Treasury throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. Second, over the last 100 years, the Progressives chipped away at her freedoms, morals and belief systems, in an insidious and ingenious way.
"This degeneration accelerated in the 21st Century, through forced multiculturalism, political correctness and also through an attack on religious traditions, by inciting a type of guilt about privilege, and by denying theextraordinary nature that exempted her from conforming to historical norms or past principles.
"A captive press and a left-wing media empire worsened matters by glorifying everything that was wrong and targeting everything that was right. A nation that kills its own babies, by the millions, and then allows unlimited immigration because there aren't enough taxpayers to fund the government, will not stand long. It is, perhaps, time for her to have a fresh start.
"In our New World, we would build from the glorious Constitution and Bill of Rights. I made a mental note to add in terms limits for political offices, an easy and ethical manner in which to remove an officeholder, and most importantly, an incorruptible judiciary. The latter would be the most difficult, I thought.
"Laws would be simple and finite in number. Lawyers would be prohibited from seeking public office. What we actually need is common sense in 'People's Representatives.' What to do about a competent judiciary? The one thing I did know -- if Justice was to be fair, it must be cost effective and it must be swift.
A flash message from Ali interrupted my reverie. One of our high-ranking NSA sources, who was retired and living the good life in Costa Rica, reported that the Director was in frenzy. She was unable to locate Colonel Johnson.
She thought he had apparently gone dark as there had also been a mysterious explosion in Libya that devastated the arsenal through which she had been arming disparate rebel groups in hopes of finding one clear leader.
"One Hell of a strategy," I thought. "Just help the rebels kill each other off until only one was left standing. Then recognize that survivor."
This message brought a genuine smile to my face and triggered a snort. Later this morning, the NSA Director would enjoy our video interview with Johnson exposing all her dirty little secrets that summed up to treason.
I left Etsa, Jivaroson and Guaranison to their own devices and went aft to sleeping quarters. I needed to be in top form for the next two days.
Ali approved the rescue mission in Marseilles. The brothel was in the northwest corner of the 14th District_. As with the 15th District and most of the 13th, these were 90% immigrant areas, mostly occupied by people from North and Northwest Africa. They were 'no-go zones' -- cities unto themselves that existed because housing was cheap and law enforcement nonexistent. There were no jobs. Many occupants didn't speak French or have the education necessary to fill jobs that were available in a very tight economy. They did not wish to assimilate, anyway, which is necessary for a country to survive.
They came from war torn and corrupt places. Who could blame them? This new place was paradise by comparison. They lived on the public dole and an underground economy, which had the effect of bankrupting most of the EU, worsening the economy and making the very jobs that they desperately needed more scarce. To those of us on the inside, the irony of it all did not go unnoticed.
Jasim made contact with a small naval detachment stationed a few blocks from his location. With their larger patrol boats, they would assist in the over-water portion of evacuation.
Our Frigate, the Defiance , moved into range, about two miles from the dock area, running without lights. The commander launched two rigid-hull fast inflatables. These launches were armed with two twin .50 caliber machine guns each. These high speed boats each carried a six man squad. It was now midnight, cold and damp, and dark enough for night vision equipment. Our Berber teams, dressed traditionally, rappelled from the Defiance into the waiting boats.
It was a ten minute ride over a choppy sea that smelled of salt and effluents. Jasim and a naval commander were at the dock to greet them as they landed. They took time to review their plan in detail. Then the team followed Jasim back to his lair. Jasim now had a combined force of 18 hardened and well-trained fighters. They all spoke French and Arabic so travelling about would raise no suspicion.
I sensed our ship's massive engines change pitch and awoke, feeling refreshed. I knew we were about thirty minutes out. Just enough time for a shower and change of clothes. I selected traditional Berber dress, a Jellaba from the Taroudant tribal area. I thought it fitting that the men and I meet the Colonel dressed to kill.
I had a message from Ali. A 'Ghareeb' (foreigner) had been sighted near Tamanar, driving a Toyota Land Cruiser. Thinking it was the last of the assassins, Ali said, "The hunt is on."
. . .
Saudi Arabia 05:00 January 20th
On this unusually chilly early morning, a solitary Airbus 319CJ bearing the royal seal of the Saudi Finance Ministry lined up on runway 15L at King Khalid airport. The pilot, a young Saudi in his thirties from a wealthy family, eased the throttles forward and started his roll for a historic event that would be remembered for eternity.
_
Chapter 20
Granada Gold Works: 07:50, January 20th
Uwishun met us in the hanger when we de-planed. He took us directly to breakfast, Colombian style, something I had dearly missed. We were in the ready room with a direct satellite link to Taroudant.
Ali appeared, looking refreshed. He seemed to be in fine form.
"Good morning everyone," he said. "Operation Brothel is about to go active. I will keep you all in the loop.
"The news on this side is more dismal by the hour. Casualties in the EU are over ten million dead and three times that number sick or injured. Another estimated 20 million are infected with either the Botulism H variant, or Ebola, or both. There is no help in sight.
"There is one bright spot. The immigrant communities are known entities so the prevailing strategy is to surround them. Military forces in most countries are the only authority that is even semi-functional at the moment. Governments have mustered their armies, national guards, and what's left of police forces along with local militias. The strategy is siege mentality -- nothing goes in or comes out. They intend to wear the combatants out. That mitigates all losses on both sides that direct attacks would incur.
"I cannot fault the strategy. We all know how dangerous and unstable urban warfare can be. We've been running predictive models on two of our Cray Titan supercomputers. Our best prediction is that losses will exceed 100 million sou
ls by the time the conflicts settle in Europe.
"There have been multiple crucifixion incidents in the United States overnight. There is no outright insurrection at the moment but tensions are high with numerous sporadic attacks throughout the country. Two bridges and one tunnel into New York are basically destroyed. The iconic Brooklyn Bridge was taken out with a fertilizer barge -- a simple, effective and original tactic. This situation will become desperate within 24 hours.
"California and the whole Pacific Northwest have lost power overnight. We are seeing the same tactics in the West -- bank robberies increase, grocery stores looted. There is enormous Internet hacking. It's basically anything to gather resources and disrupt command and control. It is a replay of Europe from three days ago.
"The only change is in volume and sophistication of the hacking. We believe the Russians, Iranians and Chinese are heavily involved in an attack on the Defense Department network.
"Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and Southern California have declared martial law. They are battling an invasion wave of Mexicans and Central Americans numbering in the millions. Local law enforcement and National Guard are overwhelmed. There has been no word from the US Federal Administration on any of these developments.
"Keny's team has been busy, to say the least. All targets were hit last night except for one. The asshole running Sudan must have been feeling the heat. He left 9 hours ago on a yacht, headed to the port of Aden in Yemen. Reza has dispatched the Defender. She should intercept the President's ship within the hour, well before it makes port. Those are waters are full of pirates. Who knows what can happen to a luxury yacht cruising those waters unescorted? I will forward the video.
"Ali, what's the latest on that nuke moving through Turkey?" I broke in.
"Interesting you should ask, Father. It's still in Hakkari, Turkey."
"What the fuck?" I responded. "Ok, we'll come back to that one, I'm formulating a plan on the go.
"Before I forget, Etsa noticed that Sheik Omar needs new hospital. You have a $150 million dollar budget, please see to it.
"Ali, I have a number of calls to make. I will get back to you in four hours. In the meantime, get our Field Marshall back to Taroudant with a company of commandos prepared for a HALO in dangerous territory. Also find out who we know and can trust in Hakkari."
It was time to get the Saudi's involved. I called His Majesty on his secure channel. I was never sure about anyone else's security, so I would speak around matters, indirectly. He understood that style, given all of the intrigue in his family and in the Arab world, generally.
"Your Highness, so pleased that you are able to take my call at this hour," I said.
"Don Gianni," he addressed me. He delighted in all things Italian, even including my name.
He continued in Arabic, "How could I not share this day with an old and valued family friend? In these times, I suspect the head of the world's best security service has urgent business with me."
"You're always right to the point, Highness. I hope you have spoken with Ana and understand the gravity of the situation."
He said, "There will be a disturbance in my palace late tonight. My Minister of Security and a dozen others will attempt a coup. Gianni, tell me how you came to possess a Jewel of Persia such as Ana?"
"Highness, she is the one who possesses me."
"It seems to always be that way with beautiful women, Gianni."
"Highness, I have sent you a gift. It is aboard the Embassy jet of Juan Carlos, sitting in your hanger, awaiting your presence. There are three items and they are most unusual. I hand picked them. They will protect you at all costs. Use them as you will, but never have less than two in your company. I beg you to rally those you trust and put yourself in my care without delay."
"It will be as you say."
"I request a small favor pursuant to this matter we just spoke about. I need a C-17 Globemaster transport, with crew, at my disposal in Taroudant, within the next eight hours. I know all things are possible if you would but speak with your cousins, in a timely manner."
"It will done. I place myself in your care."
"May God Bless us all," I concluded, in Arabic.
With morning briefing finished and breakfast devoured, it was time to visit Colonel Johnson.
The morning mist was lifting as we made the short chopper flight over to the refining facilities. Johnson and his men were hog tied with plastic cuffs in an otherwise vacant subterranean chamber under the plant. Like our prisoners' souls, the dark chamber itself was decaying, with a stench of evil.
Etsa retrieved the keys and opened the steel-barred door. There was just enough light to theatrically illuminate us in our Jellabas and to highlight the yellow eyes of our Guardians. This created the desired effect. I ordered my bodyguard to bring out the mercs, who cringed in fear when the Guardians pushed back their hoods.
Jivaroson grabbed the plastic cuffs that held their hands and feet in a bundle. He effortlessly picked up one merc with each hand. He brought them out and dropped them on the barren floor. Guaranison brought the Colonel to me. I cut his plastic ring and allowed him to stand.
"So it's true. You really do have monsters." Johnson said.
Jivaroson bared his teeth and let out panther scream that made Johnson cringe.
"You see this with your own eyes and that's not the half of it," I said.
"Uwishun, please fly the Colonels' men to the Jivaro crocodile farm and drop them in with the big breeders."
"It will be a pleasure, Johnny. I'll be back in 45 minutes."
"Johnson, do you have time for an interview?"
"Fuck you, Castillo!"
"Brave words, but not today. Here are your choices. Do the interview and die a soldier's death quickly. Do not do the interview and my friends will make your life a living Hell for what will seem like an eternity."
"You're insane, Castillo. This action was sanctioned by the Director of the NSA. She'll come after you and my men will come after you."
"Etsa, load the videos and hand me your iPad, please.
"This is your men and your compound. Boom! Nice, huh? These are your other kill teams. As for the NSA Director -- she's dying of an incurable disease this afternoon. If you're still around, I'll share that video with you, as well.
"What would you do, Johnson, if our positions were reversed?"
"I'd cut your fucking head off, Castillo, and put it on a pike!"
"Aha! A third choice. Why didn't I think of that?
"Boys, take him down to the Guarani. They're waiting for him. At the dock, cut his fucking head off, slowly, and time how long he's conscious. Have them shrink it. Put it on a stick and send it back to me. Etsa, I need a good video, if you would."
I looked up into the sky where I knew the NSA satellite would be. I winked at the Director and gave her the 'A-Okay' sign.
"Arrivederci, Colonel. Hmmm, oh, I guess we won't meet again."
As they grabbed him, his predicament finally sank in. He started to beg for more time.
"Time, I wish you had more time," I said, and then I walked away.
. . .
The Saudi Airbus 319CJ cleared air traffic control in Spain as it headed out over the Atlantic. The sky was that robin's egg blue that almost hurts your eyes, on this day, and so clear the pilots could make out various landmarks on the ground. There was an easterly wind on the surface that was fanning plumes of smoke all over southern Spain, from hundreds villages, towns and cities, toward the Mediterranean. This brought a wicked smile to the elder man's face -- the father of the man who would lead the Caliphate.
Chapter 21
Granada Gold Works: 10:30, January 20th
Uwishun had just landed when I met him at the chopper. He jumped out grinning from ear to ear.
"Mission accomplished," he said.
"We dropped them from 100 feet into the breeder ponds and pulled up to hover at 250 feet. Apparently, the crocs were hungry because they were all over them in seconds. It was like t
hey had done this before."
I just winked at Uwishun and said, "The Colonel's lot is all trashed except for one last merc, who I will take care of now. Then I'm going to the Castle to see Cristina. I have some explaining to do with the Senator. I'll leave Etsa here with you."
"No worries Johnny. We're set for tonight. I've been in contact with Guzman. You have a full plate. So you worry about the big picture, I've got this."
"Un abrazo, Hermano (A hug, my brother.)"
I had retrieved Colonel Johnson's sat phone. I went through the numbers and found one for Gunther, the last merc. He was out in the desert somewhere near Taroudant, looking for me. I dialed his number and waited for an answer, while Ali tracked the signal.
"Colonel," he answered, "we have a problem."
"Hi Gunther. This is Gianni Castillo. The Colonel and his contractors don't have problems anymore. Now it's you who has a problem. Your B team is dead. So is the rest of A Team. Your compound in Tripoli mysteriously disappeared last night along with everything and everybody inside it. Here's the deal -- we now have your exact location and a Reaper drone will be on target in 90 seconds. How fast can you run? . . .
"That was rhetorical. You don't run, you walk, until you find a local and ask him to take you to Ali Alfarsi, who speaks for me.
"You have nothing to go back to. I have reviewed your file. I see that you are a good soldier who got a raw deal. You know you can't survive 'back in the world.' I think we can find a place for you in our ranks where you will be able to do some good work. Upon your arrival, Ali will transfer $500,000 Euros into your account in Cyprus at Banco Oriental as a signing bonus. Have I made myself clear?"