The Illuminati

by Larry Burkett

  The response was immediate and overwhelming from the American public. The latest Insta-pol showed that anti-Semitic sentiment was running at nearly 90 percent. More than 80 percent of all voters favored a preemptive strike against Israel before they could launch the cobalt bombs.

  The face of Amir Razzak was shown on every network nearly all day long. The president made it extremely clear that she felt the country’s only hope of resolving this issue lay in his hands.

  As mock-up shots of what a cobalt bomb was capable of doing were shown on prime time TV, the panic that ensued rivaled that of the Cuban missile crisis during the early 1960s. Americans, used to living in a society relatively free from the threat of nuclear war since the Eastern European agreements, were frightened and angry.

  Stores were stripped of all available goods within hours. Gas masks, which would be of no real use in a nuclear attack, sold for hundreds of dollars. Basements were hurriedly converted into bomb shelters. The media had a blitz on to scare the daylights out of as many people as they could with each new dramatized broadcast.

  The sentiment against anyone Jewish grew to the point of frenzy. American Jews were blamed for the presumed aggression coming from Israel. Christians were carried along in the rising tide of anger since so many had previously come out in support of Israel. Flights to and from Israel were banned, and Insta-pol surveys continued to show an increasing support for preemptive strikes against the Jewish homeland.

  At the Gobi missile site, the inexperienced crews were making little progress in preparing the first SX-14 for launch.

  “I am sorry for the delays, Rabbi,” the young colonel apologized. “We are having difficulties with the guidance system. It is controlled by inertial gyros, and we have been unsuccessful in reprogramming them.”

  “What is the problem?” Amitt bellowed at the frustrated young officer. “We are ten hours behind schedule now!”

  “We need the trained system engineers to reprogram the guidance package, but they refuse to assist us,” the young man responded.

  “They are traitors to their country!” Amitt screamed as he threw the headset he was wearing against the wall. He was clearly becoming more and more unstable. He knew his future and, perhaps, his life were on the line. Several units of the secret police had attempted to break through the blockade of the facility, but had been beaten back. If he failed to launch the rockets on China, he would quickly lose the support of the Jewish people. Already the news media carried reports of citizens speaking out in favor of Jacob Estine, the former prime minister, who openly condemned the proposed aggression.

  “We can hit a target as large as China with a minimal guidance system, can’t we?” Amitt railed at the shaken colonel.

  “Yes, sir,” he replied with some confusion. “But we need to target a remote area to limit the civilian casualties for such a demonstration.”

  “I don’t care what we hit! Launch the missiles immediately.”

  “We have only a single missile that is capable of being launched at this time, Rabbi. But if we launch without specific parameters, we will have to disable all in-flight controls and rely only on telemetry guidance. Otherwise the systems will conflict and cancel themselves out.”

  “I don’t care what you have to do,” Amitt said, forcing himself to respond in a calmer tone. “Just do it.” He knew the younger officer was worried. He also knew if he lost his support he would have no chance of seeing his plan succeed. If I can launch the bomb on the infidels, they will have no choice but to withdraw, he thought. And Israel will be committed. The experts we need will have to help us.

  “How long until you can launch?” Amitt asked the colonel calmly.

  “In thirty minutes, Rabbi,” the nervous young man replied. To launch a missile with a faulty guidance system and a fully armed weapon like the cobalt bomb was against everything he had been taught in missile school. He was wavering in his convictions. What if the missile goes off course? he asked himself. It could conceivably hit any target within six thousand miles—including our own country.

  Amitt softened his approach as he said to the doubtful young colonel, “Don’t worry. God is with us. We will not fail. If we don’t teach the infidels a lesson, Israel will exist no more.”

  The colonel slipped back into Amitt’s camp as he absorbed the assurance he so desperately wanted to believe. “You’re right, Rabbi,” he stated resolutely. “We will succeed. We launch in thirty minutes.”

  With the inertial guidance system disabled, along with virtually all of the missile’s fail-safe mechanisms, the countdown progressed steadily. The minimal crews raced up and down the access platforms, folding them back so that the missile would not hit them during liftoff.

  For T-five minutes until launch, the missile launch system’s automatic sequencer took control. Except for a major fault detection, or a manual override from the commander’s console, nothing could stop the launch.

  “T-four minutes and counting,” the sergeant acting as the flight controller said over the P.A. system.“All personnel evacuate the launch area.”

  The remaining few personnel who had been securing the platforms hurried toward the control center. Once they had all left the silo, a single figure made his way to the second level, which housed the umbilical cable providing power to the explosive bolts. These bolts held the missile to its launch platform and would be blown after the rocket motors ignited. The final test before committing the missile to its target would be a verification that the explosive bolt circuits had continuity, because if the rocket motors ignited without the bolts blowing, the missile would tear itself apart on the launcher.

  Using a large pair of cable cutters, the Mossad agent cut through the umbilical cable feeding the hold-down bolts.

  “T-one minutes and counting,” the sergeant announced. The agent ran for the silo exit door. His job was done. Now he wanted to get as far away from the launch as he could.

  “T-minus thirty seconds,” the sergeant announced, his voice wavering. There was a tremendous shudder throughout the control room as the forty-ton blast doors protecting the missile in silo three were blown off. To the ground troops less than one half mile away, the blast sounded like a small atomic explosion. They watched in fascination as the huge steel and concrete doors were launched skyward, only to thunder back a few hundred yards away.

  “The missile is on internal power,” Colonel Shuman announced to Moshi Amitt over the intercom.

  Amitt could feel his spirits rising. They would annihilate the infidels. Then they would deal with the United States. Nothing could stop them now!

  As soon as the blast was heard, the army assault team leader, Colonel Hahn, knew what had happened. He immediately placed a satellite-link call to Mossad headquarters.

  “My God!” Colonel Hahn shouted to Jerome Facimadi when he answered the urgent call. “They have blown the blast door on silo three; they’re going to launch!”

  “That fool! He’s going to do it!” Facimadi said as he reached for the red phone linking his office to that of Levi Klein, and placed a call.

  Klein heard Facimadi’s news with disbelief. “I never thought he would actually launch the missiles,” he said as he envisioned the missile hurtling toward its target. “I’m afraid it is the end of us all.”

  “Perhaps not,” Facimadi replied. “I met with Razzak, the American emissary, earlier today. He assured me that the United States has no desire to attack Israel, but he said the president has authorized him to use the carrier Enterprise to neutralize the launch facilities at Gobi, at our request.”

  “What good will that do?” Klein asked. “He will have launched the missiles by then.”

  “I think not, my friend,” Facimadi replied. “The Mossad is not without resources. The missiles will not launch, but we must act swiftly before they can correct the damage my men have inflicted.”

  “But you said the doors have opened.”

  “Only the first silo’s blast doors were blown. Apparently t
hey are having difficulties getting the others operational. That missile will not be launched right away. But I need your help, Levi. The Americans have converted one of their cruise missiles to a low-yield nuclear weapon that can take out the Gobi complex. I need your approval to use it.”

  “You mean launch an atomic bomb on our own men?” Klein exclaimed. “What about using the neutron bombs?”

  “Razzak assures me there is not enough time to secure a neutron bomb. It is either use a single, low-yield bomb, or risk an all-out war with our own allies,” Facimadi said. “If even one of those cobalt bombs is used, we will be outcasts from the world, if there is any world left.”

  “What can I do?” Klein asked wearily. “After all, I am a retired politician, which is worse than no politician at all.”

  “Just be willing to go on television and explain to our people what we had to do. Razzak is willing to accept the blame for launching the attack.”

  “I will do that,” Klein agreed. “I don’t know how the people of Israel will accept it though.”

  “Only history will tell if we have been patriots or traitors,” Facimadi said. “I am willing to accept their judgment but not that of a madman like Amitt.”

  After his conversation with Klein, Facimadi placed a call to Amir Razzak aboard the USS Enterprise. “You are authorized to launch the strike on Gobi,” he said.

  “It will be done immediately,” Razzak replied, a smile on his face. “Be certain your military is not on alert. We would not want an attack on our carrier group.”

  “The military will not be alerted,” Facimadi assured him. “All combat aircraft have been ordered grounded for the next hour. The furor within the military is great. We will not be able to keep the planes grounded longer than that.”

  “It will be long enough,” Razzak said, his eyes revealing an evil glint. He ordered the still-protesting captain of the Enterprise to launch the attack. Only the direct order carried by Razzak from President Alton persuaded him to do so.

  At the Gobi missile site, Colonel Shuman counted the launch down: “Five-four-three-two-one-launch!”

  But instead of a deafening roar from the massive solid rocket boosters, there was nothing but silence.

  “What happened?” Amitt railed at him.

  “I don’t know, Rabbi. Apparently the igniters didn’t fire.”

  Suddenly he heard one of the technicians shouting in the intercom: “Colonel! The wiring to the hold-down bolts has been cut! Someone has sabotaged the launch.”

  “Traitors!”Amitt screamed hysterically. “Colonel, get the wiring fixed and launch the missile immediately.”

  “It will take at least an hour to repair and test the circuits. Then we will need thirty minutes to evacuate the repair crews.”

  “Have them hold the wire together if necessary, but launch that missile!” Amitt shouted. He was seething with anger. “This is the work of Satan. We cannot sit here exposed like this.”

  The first cruise missile launched from the Enterprise roared from the deck, dropping the rocket assist takeoff canister into the ocean. As the small vehicle’s own engine took over, the sleek, delta-winged aircraft weaved and bobbed its way across the ancient holy land, covering the pre-mapped route to the Gobi missile site in less than ten minutes.

  Once inside the missile complex’s perimeter, the infra-red target- seeking system locked on to the heat emitted by the exposed silo. Inside the warhead, the Sandia arming system enabled the high energy strobes which fired the atomic core. Fully armed, the nuclear-tipped missile pitched its nose up to a nearly vertical angle.

  The last sound the launch crew heard was the rocket motor of the cruise missile as it pitched the machine high into the sky before it plummeted down into the open silo. The two-kiloton device instantly cremated the Israeli crews confined in the six silos. The open blast doors to the silo funneled the explosion throughout the entire missile complex.

  What was totally unexpected, even by the leader of the Mossad, was the simultaneous launch of five additional cruise missiles, each carrying a low-yield nuclear device to a selected target. In less than two minutes, Israel’s military capability was eliminated. The mobile launches at Golan were vaporized, as well as the nuclear storage facilities in the Negev. The Israeli intercept fighter bases were also wiped out by the remaining three missiles. Israel had been betrayed by their oldest ally without a single shot being fired in retaliation.

  When Levi Klein saw the explosions on the horizon, he immediately called Facimadi. There was no answer. At the air base, where the office of the Mossad had been, there was a gaping hole and a drifting dust cloud laden with nuclear radiation.

  Even as he was trying to grasp what was happening as he saw the bright flashes, Jacob Estine heard his phone ring. In a daze, he answered it.

  “This is Amir Razzak,” the voice on the other end said. “I regret to inform you that the government of the United States has initiated a preemptive attack on the nation of Israel, at the request of your secret police. Any military response will be met with further actions by our country. We do not choose to destroy Israel, so please advise your leadership that any resistance is suicidal.”

  Estine slammed the receiver down and made numerous calls to many of his previous military commanders throughout Israel. Less than 10 percent had survived the surprise attack. Virtually all of Israel’s air force had been eliminated since Facimadi had ordered them grounded. What no army had been able to accomplish in sixty years, Razzak had accomplished in two minutes.

  Levi Klein carefully arranged the papers on his desk; then he opened the bottom drawer, took out his well-worn military revolver, and put it to his head. He prayed silently to the God of Abraham to forgive him, and then he pulled the trigger.

  As word of the aborted launch and so-called “surgical attack” on Israel was made public in the United States, Amir Razzak became a household name almost immediately. The White House press releases stated that the strikes had been arranged with the support and consent of the Israeli government.“Unfortunately,” the release said, “many Israeli officials have been assassinated by religious radicals opposed to the strikes.”

  It was also reported that forces from the United Nations would temporarily be stationed in Israel to oversee the restoration of civil order. The new government of Israel, headed by Mordecai Cahn, a long-time friend of Amir Razzak, immediately negotiated with the Japanese to release the oil reserves necessary for their economic stability. Razzak also secured a commitment from the Chinese not to invade Israel, provided the conditions set down by the Japanese were met.

  Amir Razzak returned to Washington amid a media blitz declaring him the greatest peacemaker since Gandhi. Whenever the issue of using nuclear weapons on Israel was discussed, the typical media comment was, “Better them than us”—an attitude to which the vast majority of Americans ascribed. The latest Insta-pol reflected a public approval of nearly 90 percent.

  From a position of relative obscurity, Razzak was thrust into the public eye and suggested as a viable candidate for the position of vice president when the Congress reconvened.

  Amir Razzak proved to be a media favorite for interviews. He was readily available and praised the media for alerting the American people to the danger the Israelis posed with the cobalt weapons.“I regret the loss of any life,” he told the WNN interviewer. “But all the targets were military installations capable of launching counterattacks on American forces.” Razzak emphasized that only clean nuclear weapons had been employed. “Thus,” he said, “the residual effects of the detonations were localized.”

  “How long will the targeted sites be contaminated?” Allen White quizzed Razzak.

  “All the sites, other than the Gobi missile installation where the cobalt bombs were housed, are inhabitable even now,” Razzak lied. “However, as a precaution we are recommending that the sites be left vacant for a period of at least one year. We have very little data on the effects of low-level radiation in the ground water.”


  “What about the Gobi missile site?” White asked. He had already been well-coached on what his bosses would and would not allow him to pursue. The actual degree of radiation contaminating the other sites was one of the off-limits questions.

  “The cobalt bombs did not actually detonate,” Razzak said as video images of the missile site flashed on the viewer panel behind him. “If even one had, we might not be here today. Our scientists tell us that the madmen planning to launch these weapons were prepared to use them on the United States. We now know that three of the first six missiles were targeted at cities within the United States,” Razzak lied again.

  White forgot his initial question when he heard this. “You mean that the Israelis were actually planning a preemptive attack on the United States using the cobalt bombs?”

  Razzak stopped and paused, allowing the maximum effect ofWhite’s question to sink in. Then staring directly into the camera, he replied, “As hard as it is for most of our countrymen to believe, the Jewish radicals were committed to the total destruction of this nation. They claimed it was their divine right to rule the world, and we represented a threat to that goal. It is the duty of this country to assure that such madmen never come into power again. I have personally proposed to the World Council of the United Nations that Israel be disarmed and a permanent peacekeeping force made up of neutral countries be positioned there.”

  “Does that mean the Jews would lose their homeland?”White asked, somewhat in disbelief himself. “This certainly wasn’t in the script,” he mumbled into the mike as the sound man shifted back to Razzak.

  “It depends on what you call the Jewish homeland,” Razzak replied, much like a sixth-grade teacher instructing a class. “If you mean will the Jews be allowed to keep the land they stole from the Palestinians and Egyptians, as well as the other Arab nations, no, they won’t. Israel will be reduced to the territory granted them by the 1916 treaty—basically that land which was theirs by treaty, not by theft.”