Chasm Waxing: A Startup, Cyber-Thriller

by B. Michaels

  She used cash to buy the prepaid cell phone. A prepaid cell phone allowed the user a certain number of minutes and imposed no contract. Josh paid cash for the cab. Once on the street, Becca tossed the phone in the trash. The couple walked to the Mud Island River Park Monorail.

  The monorail took them to a peninsula in the middle of the Mississippi River, overlooking downtown Memphis. The two then walked to the Riverwalk on Mud Island. The Riverwalk was an exact scale model of the Mississippi River, the most vital river in the US.

  Becca recognized the Professor from a picture Elisha showed to her last night. He was standing in the Gulf of Mexico. “Hiya,” said a tall man, with a thick British accent and tanned skin. He looked to be in his mid-to-late forties. He bore a resemblance to a young Sean Connery.

  “Did you leave all your electronics at home?” asked Becca.

  “Yup, I listened to your father’s directions very carefully. I’m pretty sure that no one followed me from the car park. I changed direction many times before boarding the monorail. You know, that’s how Indiana Jones would’ve done it.”

  They grabbed a bench overlooking the Riverwalk.

  “So what’s a Brit like you doing in Memphis, Tennessee?” asked Josh.

  “Well mate, that’s very straightforward.” The Professor smiled in reflection. “Years ago, my daughter wanted to be a country music star. We left our manor on the Island. I couldn’t find an archeology job in Nashville—so here I am in Memphis.” Everybody chuckled.

  “Becca, I trust your father greatly. He’s brilliant. I consider him among my closest friends,” said the Professor. “He told me that you guys believe that you’ve found something very significant, and I might be able to help.”

  Josh looked around to see if anyone was listening. His countenance turned solemn. “Professor McMillan, the minute that I tell you what we hope we’ve found, and where we believe it is; your life is in jeopardy. Are you sure you want to know?”

  McMillan’s eyes darted over the Memphis skyline, and then rested on the robustly flowing river.

  “God is my protection. If it’s my time to go, I win. If I stay, I win. I can’t lose either way. God is truth. Truth is like water. And I’m very thirsty.”

  “Alright. We believe that we’ve discovered the Ark of the Covenant’s location,” said Josh.

  Professor McMillan sat still. Astonished. After a long pause, he said, “Crikey, so my Indiana Jones comment was more appropriate than I thought. Where is it?” Josh pulled out the crinkled A-Map. He reviewed the location. Then the coupled filled McMillan in on their history with the NSA.

  The Professor seemed excited, but dubious. “I’m not aware of anyone ever looking in that spot for Ark. Very near that area, closer to the Temple Mount, there is an excavation in the City of David. It’s only within the last 100 years that we’ve come to refer to this area as David’s city.

  “We used to place David’s city much further away. Just a few yards north, right outside of the Temple Mount is another archeological site—the Ophel. I guess I’m finding it hard to believe that a computer program, a neural network as you call it, can predict the location of an artifact that’s been missing for thousands of years.”

  Josh said he understood the Professor’s feelings. He described some of the correct predictions the AI was rendering, including detailing the success of the trading platform. While he couldn’t tell the Professor how the computer came to its conclusions, he could tell him that the works of Josephus seemed to be inordinately weighted in importance.

  “Professor, I don’t need you to believe the AI. I need you to help us dig to this geo-marker. My only archeology experience comes from playing Minecraft. We don’t know the first thing about excavation. We need your expertise.”

  After briefly pondering the situation, the Professor said, “I might be barmy, but count me in.”

  Josh told McMillan that all expenses would be paid. They ran through the specifics of the plan, including the excavation details and the help from El Jefe. The Professor especially liked the inclusion of the archeological robots, fitted with sonar probes.

  “I’ve never had to excavate in secret, so this will be a new experience. And this is a non-standard dig. We’re in a big hurry. Hopefully, as we tunnel, it’ll become clear what we’re looking for. If we come across any notable artifacts along the way, we’ll catalog them.

  “I’ve been to Israel, Egypt, and Jordan before. It shouldn’t be a problem getting into the country. I’ll sneak to the site after it’s prepared.” If the FBI or Shin Bet arrested Josh or Becca before joining the Professor, Josh made McMillan promise to proceed with the dig. Becca also showed the Professor the list of equipment they’d already procured. She noted other items he requested.

  “Professor, I’m making a lot of money for my dad with this AI. And he’s backing this. We’ll get you whatever you need.”

  After some further details, McMillan said, “What I see here are two very bright people that are willing to sacrifice their freedom for something they believe in. That’s something I respect. As we’ve been talking, I’ve been thinking about the works of Josephus.

  “He wrote two primary works, the Wars of the Jews and the Antiquities of the Jews. There’ve been some theories that make extensive use of Josephus. They place the first and second Temple at about the spot your AI pinpoints. The ideas are considered fringe by the majority of archaeologists.

  “A lot of scholars don’t consider Josephus to be a reliable eyewitness. They say he was prone to exaggeration. They also argue that he was too beholden to Rome to write an accurate history—Rome paid him.

  “Dr. Ernest Martin was a scholar who wrote a book in the year 2000 that best lays out the theory. From the outset, you should know that it’s almost sacrilegious to say that the Temple was located in any other place than on the Temple Mount. The Wailing Wall is the most sacred site in Judaism. So, a lot of people savagely attacked Martin.

  “His theory was that the Western Wall—‘Kotel’ in Hebrew—was not the retaining wall for the ancient Temple. Rather, it’s the remnants of the Fortress Antonia. Martin places the Temple, on the Acra, south of Fortress Antonia—around the spot of your geo-marker.

  “At the same time, it could just mean that the Ark was moved to that location and buried. I mean, it might not say anything about the site of the Temple. Hopefully, we’ll get some guidance during the excavation.

  “In any case, your geo-marker is located in a historically significant place. Not only did David first seize the city from the Jebusites near that marker, but 300 years later, King Hezekiah dug a tunnel to protect the water supply from a siege by the Assyrian King, Sennacherib. That tunnel was 1800 feet. We’ll continue in the long line of people that have made use of that limestone to accomplish great things.

  “I just want to make it clear that there are ramifications beyond finding the Ark. If we find any indication that the Temple resided on this spot, it could change the world. Your boss, the General, was simply worried about the Ark’s discovery. Redefining the location of the Temple impacts the entire world. I can’t say how it’ll turn out. I can tell you, just like the Bible predicted the restoration of the nation of Israel—which happened in 1948; the Bible says that in the Last Days, a third Temple is coming.”

  Chapter 25 – Tal Azan

  1:30 a.m., Tuesday, November 3, 2020 - Aleppo, Syria

  Commandeered House in Syrian Controlled Neighborhood of Aleppo

  The Immortals’ base of operations was a group of homes in a quiet neighborhood of Aleppo. On average, there were five Immortals per house. An entire residence was dedicated to the Immersive Media Team.

  A gigantic steel barn, the size of a small airplane hangar, stored the Immortals’ numerous tactical vehicles. The Immortals’ support and logistics team lodged in two other homes. They took care of provisioning, communications equipment, and vehicle ma
intenance.

  Rahmati’s two-story residence was the largest in the cluster. All the bedrooms in the dwelling were upstairs. The Commander’s home contained sophisticated communications equipment that turned the downstairs living room into the Immortals’ comms hub. It was capable of receiving tactical information from radio, satellite, and the Internet. Comms was short for communications.

  Rahmati could have used any number of Syrian bases near Aleppo, but he liked to keep the Immortals separate from the other forces. He felt the comradery lent itself to successful military operations.

  At little after 8:00 p.m., a courier entered Rahmati’s house and handed him an envelope. The Quds Force in Syria and the Revolutionary Guards leadership in Iran, communicated exclusively by trusted couriers. It was the only way to evade the West’s electronic espionage.

  Rahmati opened the sturdy envelope. He was surprised to see two letters. The first was from General Javan, Rahmati’s boss. It was short. It read in Persian, ‘THUNDERCLAP progressing as planned.’ Rahmati exhaled in relief.

  The second dispatch was from Hamid Gilani. Hamid was the CEO of Abdullah Rahmati’s high-tech, holding company. Hamid wrote that tests of AVICENNA were complete. AVICENNA was performing beyond everyone’s wildest expectations. Rahmati clinched his fist. He looked like a soccer forward scoring the game-winning goal to win the World Cup. He then torched both documents in the flame of a candle.

  After watching some European football with his housemates; Rahmati, Hadi Hadari, and three other Immortals finished evening prayers. They knelt and buried their foreheads into prayer mats facing the Kaaba in Mecca.

  The Commander had been sleeping soundly for two hours. In an instant, he sat straight up in bed. Across the room, Deputy Commander Hadari was snoring, loudly. Rahmati quickly dressed and attached his body armor. He turned on the armor’s embedded cameras and shook Hadari. “Wake up Hadi. I believe we’re going to have company soon. Get ready for battle.”

  A woozy Hadari rubbed his eyes and followed orders. Rahmati proceeded to rouse the other Immortals in the house. During all of Rahmati’s tour in Syria, the Immortals had never been attacked at their Aleppo base. Over the years, Russian heavy armaments and air support, aided by a number of Iranian and Hezbollah soldiers; stabilized Aleppo, Homs, and Damascus for forces loyal to the Syrian government.

  Rahmati went to the comms room and pressed a button to alert the other nearby Immortals. The comms room contained radio communications equipment and many laptops. He sat down at the comms deck and initiated his laptop’s video camera. Then, the Commander browsed to Nucleus Corporation’s live streaming video app, A-Scope.

  A-Scope worked very similar to Twitter’s Periscope or Meerkat. As soon as Rahmati logged on and pushed the record button, comments started flying across the screen. “My brothers and sisters, in a few short minutes, I believe that the Immortals will fight a great battle. Daesh thinks that they can attack us at our home base. Maybe they tracked us down by carefully parsing our social media interactions. Who knows? Getting my message out to you is more important than operational security. We will handle Daesh. Perhaps they are listening right now.

  “Know this: There’s one thing that I believe with all my heart. God is gracious and merciful. His purposes will be accomplished. If I am to die a martyr tonight, so be it, inshallah. If I am to live; then I will live in victory, inshallah.

  “War is not something I want. We should be building—not destroying. At this hour, moms and dads should be in peaceful homes, slumbering under the same roof as their children. They should be exhausted from laboring at well-paying, intellectually stimulating jobs. They should wake up to tables overflowing with hearty breakfasts and laughter.

  “Their children should be resting their supple minds, preparing for another day of exciting school lessons; lessons that train them not just to exist, but to thrive and prosper in our new globally interconnected economy. The Middle East should be a leader in this global economy, not a follower. We should not be a mere supplier of natural resources. Our universities should be paving the way in researching new discoveries in quantum physics, medicine, and other sciences.

  “But, this can only happen when war ceases. This can only happen when we join the ranks of developed nations. We must defeat this enemy who looks back—back to the seventh century—and not forward. Brothers and sisters, join me. The crescent moon is rising. The future is now.” Rahmati ended the A-Scope session. He’d also recorded a portion of his dialogue to his Snapchat Story and posted a picture to Twitter and Instagram.

  He tuned the radio to the specific frequency used for command and control. The chatter was confusing, but Rahmati surmised that the forward operating base at Tal Azan was under attack. The Tal Azan FOB was 12 miles south of Aleppo. If the reports were correct, this would be the first attack on a Syrian FOB in over two years.

  Rahmati reached over his shoulder and grabbed his tomahawk. He quickly scooted under the comms desk. The next sound that Rahmati heard was the living room’s glass window shatter. The Commander covered his ears, shut his eyes, and opened his mouth. He prayed that a stun grenade was coming next, instead of a fragmentation grenade.

  A second later, Rahmati heard the sound of two metal canisters roll on the floor. Then, the front door exploded off its hinges, followed closely by the boom of the two flash-bang grenades. The Commander’s evasive action, and the thick oak sides of the comms desk kept the stun grenades from incapacitating Rahmati for more than a few seconds.

  A team of four men silently crept into the living room. Rahmati was surprised that the attackers didn’t cut the power. The lights and comms equipment were still operational. The assault team wore black ski masks, with turquoise-blue bandanas tied around their foreheads.

  This was a special operations unit of the Caliphate. In Arabic, they were called, ‘Inghemasiyoun,’ which roughly translated to, ‘those who immerse themselves,’ or the Immersives. The Immersives wore bullet-proof vests, thick belts, and carried AKs.

  Rahmati choose his house wisely, at least if anyone ever decided to come through the front door. The residence’s stairwell looked directly down on the entry way. Peering around the corner of the stairs, Hadi Hadari crouched low. Another Immortal went high. They opened fire. The first two Immersives were quickly taken down with shots to the heart. The other two Immersives retreated outside.

  The Immortal, standing above Hadi, threw a fragmentation grenade. It flew through the front door and landed on the porch. After the blast, Rahmati heard screaming. He also recognized the sound of a firefight outside. The other Immortals must be counter-attacking, he thought.

  Hadi and three Immortals rushed down the stairs, calling for Rahmati.

  “I'm all right. Let’s get them. Watch their belts.” As Rahmati and his team moved to support the other Immortals in battle, another living room window smashed. A flash of bright blue landed near his feet yelling, “Allahu Akbar,” Arabic for ‘God is the greatest.’

  The dazed Immersive lay on the ground, bleeding from cuts caused by jumping through the window. He reached for the detonation switch on his suicide belt. When depressed; steel ball bearings, sharp screws, nails, and dynamite would immediately permeate the room.

  Rahmati’s tomahawk quickly severed the Immersive’s hand, before he could activate the detonator. The next blow of the battle-ax hacked the writhing Immersive’s neck. His head was now halfway separated from his body. A third blow severed the Immersive’s other hand. Hadi then put two bullets through the Immersive’s temple.

  “That ought to do it,” said Rahmati. Hadi laughed. Outside, the Immortals had killed seven Immersives, and pinned three behind an American Humvee the Caliphate stole from Iraqi forces when they conquered Mosul.

  “Give me your gun,” Rahmati said to Hadi.

  Rahmati grabbed the matte-black AK-74 and lay prone. Using the night-vision equipped sco
pe, he aimed the sight underneath the car. He briefly caught a glimpse of what he sought. Rahmati held his breath and squeezed the trigger.

  “Boom! A massive explosion took out all three of the Immersives hiding behind the car. A severed head rolled to the front of the car.

  “Gentlemen, that’s why Immortals don’t wear suicide belts.” Rahmati looked to his right and smiled, as he saw one of the media team’s TV camera rolling. “That’s going to be quite a video. Alright Immortals, gather round. Is anybody hurt?” Nobody was.

  “Good. Allah was on our side tonight. It’s not over yet. In fact, our evening has just begun.” Rahmati surveyed his team. Most of the Immortals were in full battle gear. This impressed the Commander, given how little warning they’d been given by the alarm.

  “Before we got hit, I heard over the radio that Tal Azan was under siege. We need to get there in a hurry. I can’t imagine that Daesh is going to want to occupy that base for very long in the face of Russian air power, but who knows? If they do take over Tal Azan, they can dominate all of southern Aleppo. We have to stop them.

  “I need everyone in full, night battle gear. This isn’t going to be as easy as Dabiq. Like most spec op missions, we’re probably outnumbered. That’s no matter. This is why we’re Immortals. Concentrated relative strength can overcome absolute strength, every time. But only if we’re disciplined.

  “All of you can see that we’re on the third night out from a full moon. So there’s a lot of ambient light. Make sure your face doesn’t shine. Paint it out. Reverse your Immortal’s bandana, so the white doesn’t show. Anything white is going to reflect like a spotlight. I want everyone to examine his teammate and conceal anything that will flash. At least God has provided some rolling cloud cover.

  “We leave in 15 minutes. Let’s take two quads. I want the rest of you in fast-attack vehicles. Most likely, the enemy will be in HiLuxes, mounted with .50-cals.” A round from a .50-caliber machine gun could explode a person like a grape. American .50-cals could split human beings in two, from a mile away.

  “Our attack vehicles already have their standard loadout provisioned. As you guys dress out, I’m going to radio headquarters and see if we might get some air support.” Russian air support in Syria was extensive. They were using Syria to test out their newest and most advanced weapons. Russian air bases housed Mi24 Helicopter Gunships; also known as Hinds, Sukhoi (SU) 30s, and the new SU 50 stealth fighters. The Russians were also experimenting with a new stealth attack helicopter.