“We were a day or two away from defeat, but you all have helped us to survive. I salute you all. Our beloved country salutes you all. My friends, our sources in the Pentagon and State Department, confirm all our wonderful successes, as does our good friend on the Senate Foreign Affairs Committee. I finished speaking to all of them a few minutes ago, and all report that the American President is currently meeting with the Joint Chiefs of Staff and his Cabinet.
He gazes around the room, takes a sip of water, and goes on. “The Screaming Eagles were all able to reach their objectives and five jumbo jets in five different cities were destroyed, with a total of more than 2,000 people killed in the planes. A further 800 died on the ground when the flames and debris from the planes fell onto shopping malls and factories. The death toll is expected to climb higher, to at least 3,000.”
He pauses again to sip water from a glass he is holding. “As we so correctly foresaw, the stupid Americans, who do not care if nations commit genocide and kill millions of people, do, however, care if a few of their own people are killed. We anticipate that they will overreact. Remember their attack on Ghaddafi’s palace in Libya, Granada, Panama, and Lebanon. Then they withdrew their support from the leaders who were their friends.
“Now, after the Arab Spring, the Moslem Brotherhood controls all North African and Middle Eastern countries. Sharia Law is now the law of the land. Our march to control all countries has begun, and will not end until Sharia is the one and only religion throughout the world. We Arabs are far more advanced culturally and spiritually than those infidels. Everyone, of course, knows how much cleverer we are. Outthinking them was easy, for they are so predictable. We understand them better than they understand themselves.”
This time, the president takes a longer drink of water, then putting the glass down on the table, continues to hold it in his hand, turning it in circles on the tablecloth in front of him as he speaks.
“In the same way as a magician tells you to watch his right hand while the left hand is the deception, knowing how predictable they are, my friends, you will see that within a few hours, their planes will be on their missions to teach our mortal enemies, the Iranians, a severe lesson. May our enemies die like the dogs they are. Thousands will get a lesson, a good deserving lesson. Maybe hundreds of thousands of those dogs will die and the Americans will never know how we maneuvered and tricked them to do what we were unable to do.
“Our intelligence confirms that within thirty days, we would have been totally defeated, overrun by those fanatical Iranian barbarians. Our brave sons and brothers, who fought so fearlessly against the barbarian hordes of Musavi—may his soul rot in hell—were preparing for their last battle. But now, congratulations, my friends. We have lost a few battles, but we will win this war. In this life and the next, we are a special group, we are the victors, and they are the victims. We are brothers all.”
He sits down.
As one, everyone in the room jumps to their feet, clapping and applauding.
Smiling, the president of Iraq, Abdel Amir, listens to their cheers. Palms and fingers together in front of his face, he looks at every person around the table directly, bowing his head as he acknowledges each one.
After a few minutes, Abdel Amir glances at his watch and sees that it is 6:34 a.m. He presses the button of the priming device, placing it under the napkin in front of him on the table next to the glass, excuses himself. He gets up and walks quickly to the adjoining bathroom, then closes and locks the door. He now has less than 15 seconds before the bomb explodes.
Removing his glasses, he puts them into their case and stuffs them in his pocket. Standing away from the door in the far corner next to the hand drier to minimize his injuries, he hears them still cheering. They cheer and call his name, and sing the Iraqi national anthem.
The dynamite he’d earlier placed under the table while everyone was asleep explodes. The force of the massive explosion thunders across the desert, echoing over and over as the sun begins its ascent. Shadows are pierced by the fingers of sunlight that move with great speed onto the smoke that still rises from the bunker. The sunlight also finds the small motes of debris floating and swirling in the air.
* * *
America’s vengeance was massive and swift. At dawn, wave after wave of F-18 fighter jets and stealth bombers roared over Teheran, waking the sleeping population minutes before they were blown to eternity. In ten incredible minutes, with surgical precision, 205,000 civilians were killed and more than a million were injured. The stealth bombers then flew to Abadon, Bander Abbas, and Kharg Island, setting all the oil refineries and installations on fire. Finally, they flew to the huge Iranian military bases.
The Iranians had been about to launch their attack on Baghdad, Iraq, only twenty kilometers away. The bombers destroyed the advancing Iranian army and air force completely. In less than four hours, the Iranian military machine was destroyed.
However, under the cover of darkness, 22 small speedboats launched from hidden coastal towns on the Iranian side along the Straits of Hormuz, were able to sink two oil tankers and stop the world’s oil supply for nearly a week. That shipping lane carries tankers holding one fifth of the world’s oil supply daily.
In retaliation, the Americans bombed 500 miles of each of the three main roads serving Teheran. No supplies could reach Teheran by road for two months.
The Iraqi population had been streaming out of Baghdad, trying to escape the Iranian army as it was preparing to launch its final offensive. When they heard the news of the American annihilation of the Iranians, they turned back to their homes.
For seven days and nights, they danced in the streets, praising the Americans and cursing the Iranians.
* * *
At the United Nations, Russia, China, France, and Britain stood side by side with the American delegation and condemned Iran as a terrorist rogue nation.
Only Syria and Libya opposed the condemnation.
The American president’s popularity rating after acting so decisively was measured at a staggering 94 percent, the highest ever recorded.
In Baghdad, Iraqi President Abdel Amir, the only survivor of the bomb that had blown up the bunker, recovered from his injuries. His left leg had to be amputated and as he lay in the hospital bed recovering, he thought many times of how brilliantly he’d planned the greatest of deceptions.
For thousands of years, Persia and Iraq had been fighting wars, Shi’a against Sunni. The division between Shi’a and Sunni dated back to the death of the Prophet Muhammad, and the question of who was to take over the leadership of the entire Muslim nation. For the first time in their histories, one had been annihilated.
From now on, the Shi’a nations would no longer be a concern. Iran’s head had been decapitated and its people eviscerated. Nine Iraqis, masquerading as Iranians, had traumatized the United States into such mass hysteria that Iran’s elimination was thirsted for and demanded by the whole country. Americans believed now their honor had been vindicated.
His Screaming Eagles, all dedicated patriots, could not be rewarded in this world, for their secret had to die with them. But in Martyrdom Heaven, where the just and righteous live forever, the Eagles would be exalted saints. He regretted that everyone who had participated in the plan had to die, even his son. But he could not take any unnecessary chances and let anyone survive.
What a fool Saddam Hussein had been, trying to annex Kuwait. This was so much easier and simpler.
For the first time in centuries, a leader who was Sunni would stride mightily across the world, albeit now walking with only one leg. The true descendants of Mohammed would at last take their rightful place. Iraq and India would be the two most dominant powers of the 21st century.
Once America and China were neutralized, the Islamic revolutionists and the Muslims who will be in control in India, could divide up the world in the same way that America and Russia had divided the world into capitalist and Communist countries for seven decades.
; For forty days, the entire nation mourned for the president’s son, who was to have been his heir, and all the cabinet members who had been killed by the explosion. Prayers were said five times a day by the faithful for the deliverance of their beloved president from death.
In mosques, it was clearly acknowledged that without Allah’s intervention, President Abdel Amir would surely have died. The prophets for centuries had foretold that another Saladin, praised be his name, would arise from ashes and lead Arab nations to glory and world domination. In his infinite wisdom, Allah had chosen President Abdel Amir for this holiest of holy missions. The Jihad against the infidel was about to begin. It would take time to achieve all of their objectives, but time was on the side of the righteous.
For years, politicians at all levels, military generals in the various armed forces, economists, bankers, and executives in major multi-national corporations had all been carefully targeted and put on Iraq’s payroll. This had been accomplished brilliantly by his nephew Sadegh.
Sadegh as Eagle One was the key, and he would be well rewarded soon. The collapse of the Euro, which had only survived for a few years, was long past. Because of that, most European countries were bankrupt. The funding had come discreetly, efficiently and secretly for years from Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States; all now were controlled by Sunnis.
Through complicated dummy corporations and banks, the Saudis now owned all of the oil companies in the entire world, OPEC as an organization would disappear. Gold would be the new currency, tied into the basket of currencies consisting of Saudi riyals and Indian rupees.
Americans believed that China, Japan, Britain, and Holland were the largest outside investors in their country, but the Saudis now controlled far more than all four countries combined. Americans were now paying over $12 for a gallon of gas, while Saudi was awash with cash, paid each minute of each hour of every day of the year for a gallon of gas. In Europe, the price was $20. When the time was right—and it was getting closer every day—the Saudis would unleash an economic attack that would paralyze the West.
The Abu Hafez underground city, beneath the Imperial Palace compound in Baghdad, was nearly completed. The first neutron bomb was nearly ready. Tons of enriched chemical gas more powerful than sarin was being produced. Top Russian scientists, unable to find work once the Soviet Union crumbled, had flocked to Baghdad. Only power, not oil, would force Iraq and ultimately its Arab friends to be accepted as an equal with China. Japan, would be annexed by China and America would become the Islamic Republic’s most prized possession.
The Saudis already were planning to take over all the schools in America and turn them into madrassas. Sharia Law would be proposed by Congress, and be signed into law when the new president took office.
Thoughts tumble through his head as he lies in his hospital bed. Abdel Amir suddenly remembers that as soon as he returns to his office in the Palace, he must sign off on the plans for the largest madrassa in the world to be built on the grounds of the White House. The teachers and their students who would study there. They would be the best that their respective countries could offer. The UN would be renamed the United Nations of Islamic Countries.
This was his destiny, his sacred duty. He would not fail.
Book Three
Lexi
CHAPTER ONE
Two Months Later
Lexi kisses me slowly, wet and warm, I smell the familiar perfume on her neck. I forget about the lateness of the hour. We start undressing each other with the urgency that ignites intensely in a way only new lovers can accomplish. The hunger and sweetness swells the thrust of desire and promise is the texture and touch that glazes our skin, the passion burns, and lust strengthens fiercely in a manner that our movements cannot deny. The joining and pressure is pulsed like no other and willingly, we each welcome the flames that shout of love and consume us.
Exhausted and spent, tightly entwined, not wanting to let go of each other, we savor and breathe softly. I look into her eyes, finding in their sapphire depths a release of endless promises of love.
Beneath her tough corporate exterior, I had discovered a kind and compassionate person who truly loved what she was doing with her career, yet could cry unashamedly sitting at a movie. I have found my dream woman. I am living my fantasy. Is it true love? I sense Lexi is in love, or nearly so. We are soul mates, two peas in a pod, lovers, and best friends. A long time ago, I read somewhere that God makes the perfect mate for each one of us. I do not know if this is the person I have found?
From the beginning, it was as if a door that could not be opened had miraculously released its locks. We knew that this was unlike other relationships from our past, where game-playing of the word “commitment” had had not been given or was even wanted.
Lexi’s breathing evens out. She’s fallen asleep, and I feel her breath feather as it resides on my chest. I remember our first weekend together. Was it months, years, or just days ago? She is now so much a part of my daily life.
That first weekend, her cries had woken me from a dreamless sleep, a sleep satiated from our lovemaking. Heavy with sleep, I’d woken to find her clinging to me fiercely, holding with trapped strength that radiated fear. I’d kissed her forehead, tasting the salt dampness of sweat near her hairline and eyebrows. My hands gently caressed her back until the gasping became less ragged, until she breathed in deeply receding from the fear, slowly expelling a terror that had been her nightmare. It had taken a long time for her breathing to become quiet and eventually normal. Her fierce embrace finally relaxed, “I’m sorry,” she said as she lay back on the pillow, turning her head from me.
The streetlights outside her apartment shone through a tiny chink where the curtains hadn’t quite closed, casting uneasy shadows on the far wall. The light enabled me to see a dim outline of her upper body lying next to me, her face hidden in the deep shadow of her pillow.
Lying close to her, seeking and finding her hand, my fingers felt hers tighten over mine. “Do you want to talk about it or should we try to get some sleep?”
She didn’t answer, just held my hand, her thumb slowly sliding across my thumbnail and second joint. Nothing was said, no connection between us, just the harshness of her thumb jarring the nail as she moved hers over mine.
I started to say something, thought better of it and just lay with my mouth close to her shoulder, wondering if her eyes were open or closed.
“I’m scared,” she’d said, her face still turned away from me. “I’m scared that you are becoming too important in my life. I never expected I could ever feel for someone the way I felt for my husband. I have been hurt too much by loss and don’t know if I could survive living more pain.”
I could hear her begin to cry. She still faced away from me. The solitary ticking of the clock next to her bedside was the only sound I could hear as her crying subsided. I did not know how long we lay side by side, our hands the only parts of our bodies that touched, yet I felt connected, close to her. My mind was alert, fearful of what she would say, yet fearing that if she said nothing and turned away from me emotionally, in the same way that I am holding her at arm’s length. I am afraid to acknowledge it, but she too has become important to me. My mind had been exploring different scenarios of our relationship and what to do if this or that happened. Now was plan A. What would be my plan B and a plan C?
I recall how she turned and began speaking slowly to me, a small sigh threading, then shrinking in her throat. I remember every word she spoke, the intonation, the times she paused, the brief flickering of her heart as she unlocked the trapped pain in her soul.
“I was a successful career woman who suddenly one evening met the man of her dreams. I married him and we had a son and daughter. My world revolved around my husband. I had never had a truly best friend, lover and protector. We adored each other and when he looked at me, it was with eyes that made me feel as though I was the most special person in the world, I thanked God over and over again for bringing him into my life. People s
ay that opposites attract, well, we were ‘two souls melded into one.’ He was my one and only. We were a team. We could attempt anything, do anything.”
She took a deep, ragged breath. “As long as we were together, we would succeed. Our lives were complete. We doted on our children, for they were a small part of each of our genes, conceived in love, and beloved from the moment they were born. Together we made our plans for a future, never anticipating that one day, in the blink of an eyelash, in a flash of flames and fire, my husband and children would no longer be there.
“Ten years ago, my husband was returning home along Lake Shore Drive with our two children, when a car, going in the opposite direction, lost control, jumped the center island, and smashed into our car, killing all three of them outright. The car burst into flames and in less than a minute, it exploded. Have you ever buried your children, Jay? Or one child, Jay? Do you know what it is like to bury innocence, knowing the one time in their lives, Mommy wasn’t there to make it better, or keep the bogey man away?”
Lexi did not wait for me to reply but continued as if a question had not been asked.
“I buried ashes, not people. I remember how strange it was looking at those ashes and wondering suspiciously if I was burying bits of car parts or really my husband and children. I was obsessed, needing to extract every possible ounce of flesh or hair so that I could bury all the pieces and body parts of my family. When my babies were born, I counted their fingers and toes. When all you have is ashes, how do you know if all fingers and toes are there?
“I realized I was in a state of shock and my hysteria to find bits and pieces of flesh was getting out of control. That afternoon, I buried three urns. Jay, did you know that graves have to be a minimum of four feet deep in this country, but that urns can be buried in only twelve inches of soil? Did you know that?
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