The Dust Will Never Settle

by Deva, Mukul

  As the three women approached the main entrance of the mosque, they appeared engrossed in animated conversation. They were fifty feet from the entrance when a motorcycle sped past on the road in front of the mosque. About twenty metres from the main security post, the motorcycle lost control. Since the camera feed was not backed by an audio track, they could only imagine the loud thud with which the motorcycle hit the road. It would have been followed by a nerve-grating, screeching sound as metal scraped along the tarmac. The rider’s helmet broke loose. When the bike screeched to a halt she lay still – a young woman in her mid-twenties with blood covering her face.

  Two of the six security men stationed at the monument’s gates ran forward to help even as the attention of the other four remained focused on the fallen rider.

  Ravinder realized that the security men had been lured into a trap.

  Converging on the motorcyclist along with the security men were another nine or ten eager-to-help passers-by. The soldiers reached the crash victim first. This lot was decimated by the forty kilograms of high explosive strapped onto the motorcycle. The fuel tank’s explosion added to the carnage.

  ‘The explosion was so powerful that it was heard miles away, which is what it was supposed to do, since it not only created the diversion for the main assault force, it also triggered the next phase,’ Peled explained.

  While a cloud of motorcycle parts, blood and bones billowed upwards, the security camera caught the three women suddenly pull weapons out of their knapsacks and run forward purposefully.

  ‘All three were wielding Micro Tavor assault rifles.’

  Of Israeli design, with a length of just 23 inches, the MTAR 21 is possibly the shortest 5.56mm assault rifle, shorter even than the Uzi, but more accurate due to its relatively longer barrel.

  They headed straight for the main gate.

  People only became aware of the attack when the terrorist leading the charge hurled a grenade at the security post spanning the main gate.

  ‘It landed behind the sandbags, which ensured the attackers were safe from the shrapnel,’ Peled said, his tone dispassionate. ‘None of the security personnel survived.’

  ‘Charging through the carnage, Raiders One and Two,’ Peled pointed at two women on the screen, ‘headed for the solitary door on the western side that opened into the covered area of the mosque. Meanwhile Raider Three, who had thrown the grenade, continued towards the security post on the west to prevent the guards from interdicting her teammates.’

  It was happening so fast that the security men on that side were caught unawares. All three died.

  ‘Then Raider Three whipped around and headed for the sentries at the next gate on the west.’ Peled traced her path on the screen with a laser pointer.

  The camera footage was grainy, but Ravinder could see her expertly flip her magazine as she ran. She fired at the two security men but one of them managed to put a bullet in her, high on her left shoulder, before he collapsed.

  Ravinder saw her falter briefly. She collected herself, spun around and headed for the next security post. By now the guards were ready to engage. She fell to a hail of bullets. For a moment everyone froze. A soundless explosion spread across the screen. She had triggered the explosive in the camera around her neck. Parts of her body were hurled up and outwards. The amount of explosive was enough to decimate her upper body, which was deliberate, to keep the identities of the attackers obscure.

  ‘Her objective was the same as the woman who had crashed her motorcycle, to provide the primary pair of raiders an opportunity to get into the main mosque.’

  The camera feed switched to show Raiders One and Two racing into the mosque, firing in short, ammunition conserving, two- or three-round bursts, gunning down everyone in their way – tourists, people in prayer and security guards.

  The camera feed switched again, now showing two more women. Raiders Five and Six, emerging from the crowd between the Al Aqsa mosque and the Temple Mount. They ran towards the solitary door on the east, which led into the covered area of the mosque, gunning down everyone in their path.

  The security forces here, however, were on full alert.

  Raider Six fell to a hail of bullets halfway to the mosque. Her final act was to trigger the bomb in the camera slung around her neck. Two bystanders were blown up with her. The chaos created by the explosion allowed Raider Five to slip into the mosque.

  ‘By now three terrorists had penetrated the inner sanctum of the mosque.’

  The screen went black as Peled switched to the feed from the security cameras inside the mosque.

  Raiders One, Two and Five could now be seen selectively rounding up hostages. A majority were Muslims – a deliberate part of the plan. Only two of the fourteen hostages were non-Muslims, both men in their late forties, and both Jewish from their dress and demeanour. ‘One was a schoolteacher,’ Peled said, pointing at a meek looking man. ‘The second was his American cousin on a sightseeing tour.’

  Raider One stood guard while Raider Two secured the hands and feet of the hostages. All this while, Raider Five could be seen moving from window to window. Every so often she would raise her weapon and fire.

  ‘A few hundred metres to the north, the next pair of terrorists, who we now know were called Raiders Seven and Eight, opened fired at the tourists milling around the Dome of the Rock. Most guards fell to the initial onslaught. The two who survived managed to put bullets into the attackers, but failed to prevent them from entering the monument. So, with Raiders Seven and Eight inside, both monuments were now in control of the terrorists.

  ‘As you will note from the proximity of the two buildings,’ Peled indicated the area between the buildings with the laser pointer, ‘it was now extremely hard for the security forces to undertake cleansing operations from here, since they’d be in range from one or both the buildings.’

  His audience nodded. The predicament of the IDF was obvious.

  ‘Despite the speed with which the attack developed,’ Peled continued, ‘the IDF’s reaction was fast.’

  Having studied the lessons of the Mumbai Ghazwa (raid), Ravinder knew it was imperative to dislodge the terrorists before they got firmly entrenched. Given time they would not only secure more hostages or kill more people, but also take up good defensive positions and lay booby traps.

  ‘By now our counter-terrorism units were racing in,’ Peled resumed. ‘Our biggest problem was that no operation could be carried out without damage to the monuments. Considering their religious significance, any damage would incite massive anger in Muslims the world over.’

  Ravinder could see the others trying to figure out how they would have reacted.

  ‘Meanwhile the remaining terrorists swung into action. They had also learnt the lessons of the Mumbai attack and planned on attacking multiple targets simultaneously.’

  Once again the screen sprang to life with the footage of another set of cameras. Raiders Nine and Ten, another pair of pretty girls in their early twenties, could be seen hauling out Micro Tavors from their knapsacks and firing at the tourists at the Tower of David.

  Raider Nine was running towards the security post as she fired. She got two guards before the others gunned her down. She too disappeared in an explosive thunderclap as Raider Ten raced into the monument.

  ‘The one who went inside gunned down everyone she came across.’ Peled’s tone hardened. It was impossible not to feel his anger. ‘Her job was not to secure the monument, it was to inflict maximum casualties and also force us to go in and get her, thus diverting our forces from their primary target, the Al Aqsa.’

  Everyone in the room was riveted.

  ‘As soon as information about this latest attack reached headquarters, a section of the IDF response team rushing to Al Aqsa split and headed to the Tower of David. Post Mumbai and due to the changing nature of urban jihad, we were now geared to handle simultaneous, multiple threats.’

  ‘At the same time as the Tower of David was attacked, eight kilometr
es to its north, the final pair, Raiders Eleven and Twelve, two more young women, also armed with Micro Tavor assault rifles and grenades, headed for the security post guarding the Chapel of the Ascension.’

  Peled clicked the controller and the feed from another set of cameras showed two girls racing forward, firing. They gunned down guards and raced towards the Chapel.

  ‘Here also they simply gunned down everyone in sight.’ Peled now was having trouble keeping his emotions in check. Ravinder knew how he felt. Though Peled had started with a well-rehearsed presentation, now the words were coming from his heart. Very raw. Very poignant.

  ‘As soon as we got word of this attack, another section of the counter-terror unit racing towards Al Aqsa broke off and headed to the Chapel. And seeing that the threat had enlarged, headquarters began to scramble more forces.’

  The footage returned to Al Aqsa and the Dome of the Rock. The units could be seen rushing in and taking position to secure the perimeter.

  The camera feed changed and commando detachments could now be seen arriving at the Tower of David and the Chapel of Ascension.

  ‘Within minutes of getting there, we began the operation to regain control of the monuments,’ Peled said, again using his laser pointer. The units could now be seen deploying sensors and sending in probes.

  Ravinder knew their first step would be to gather maximum intelligence. The security forces would already know the layout. Also, in most such buildings there are cameras and security sensors. The security forces use these for real-time combat intelligence, which is vital to ensure that the building can be retaken with minimal loss of life. Ravinder was glad he was not in the shoes of the IDF commander.

  ‘There is no doubt that the planners of this strike were veterans of such dark ops. They had carefully planned to enhance the psychological impact of their strikes.’ Peled’s voice stayed low and intense. ‘They left all audio surveillance, motion or heat sensors intact. Pinpointing and destroying them would have taken too much time. But they destroyed all the surveillance cameras they could find. These would not only give away their strength but also their equipment, location and condition. However they left the cameras in the inner sanctums of the mosque intact. The terrorists wanted to make sure everyone saw the gory finale.’

  The screen showed footage of the inside of the mosque.

  The raiders could be seen moving rapidly from one firing position to another, keeping up a barrage, doing everything to deny operational intelligence to the security forces and keep them at bay.

  At the Tomb of David, Raider Ten kept firing till she was down to her last magazine. As the first commando broke in, she ran forward and detonated her camera bomb. Both were annihilated.

  ‘The Tomb of David was back in our control. Barring the area around the explosion, the damage was within manageable limits. But eleven people lost their lives.’

  Peled’s words rang bleakly through the room. ‘At Ascension, Raiders Eleven and Twelve kept the initial probes of our forces at bay, but they too were running out of ammo. They were setting up explosive charges when IDF commandos raced in and gunned them down. They too detonated the bombs but the damage to the Chapel was minimal. Our loss here was much higher. Four security men and seventeen tourists gunned down.’ Peled’s voice had a brittle edge to it.

  The footage flipped again as it returned to the Dome of the Rock.

  Both terrorists had been wounded, Raider Seven so badly that she couldn’t move at all. Raider Eight could move, but slowly.

  ‘That is why their shoot-scoot-shoot strategy did not work. Minutes later the Dome was back in our hands. However the death toll here was a shocking twenty-six, including three commandos. The damage to the building was also more severe. But, as you will see now, our problems were far from over.’

  Once again the footage changed. The inner sanctum of the mosque came into view. It showed twelve panic-stricken hostages. The three terrorists were racing from window to window, keeping up a rain of fire on the forces outside. The fourteen arches, twenty-seven marble columns on the eastern side and the same number of stone piers on the west afforded them cover to switch positions.

  Suddenly Raiders One and Two raced back to the hostages. The security camera caught Raider One as she switched on her BlackBerry and began to record a video. She was in direct sight of the camera, which revealed the tension on her face.

  At Peled’s command, the feed now fragmented into two.

  On the second half of the screen Raider Two could be seen lining up the hostages. Starting from one side she began to gun them down, delivering one shot each to their faces, ensuring that they screamed as they saw death coming. Acrid gun smoke furled up in the air.

  As Raider Two proceeded, the killing became more brutal. She shot the sixth hostage first in the lower jaw. His soundless scream rang out. Only then did she put one between his eyes. The eighth was shot twice in the knees before her coup de grace. The eleventh, the American cousin visiting Israel, was begging for mercy when she put the muzzle against his stomach. There was a soundless click as the firing pin slammed down on an empty chamber. The kneeling hostage looked up in shock. Then he vomited.

  By now Raider Two was directly in front of the security camera overhead. Probably she was aware of it and had positioned the hostages to ensure it caught every bloody detail. Dropping the now empty assault rifle, she unsheathed a knife from her ankle holster.

  The hostage was still vomiting when she reached down, grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. The knife moved in a quick diagonal slash across the throat. He gurgled and then slumped forward. His blood rained out in droplets on Raider Two’s hands. She licked her lips as she wiped the dagger clean on her pant leg.

  On the second half of the screen, recording all this on a BlackBerry, Raider One was moving in tandem with Raider Two. They saw an odd expression on her face, as though she wanted it all to end, yet was fascinated by what she was seeing. Her mouth was parted a little and her chest heaved. Now and then her tongue forayed out and moistened her lips.

  By the time Raider Two moved to the twelfth man, her breath was coming in rasping gasps, her eyes blazing, and splatters of blood pockmarked her.

  The final hostage did not scream. There was an amazing calm in the way he stared at her, perhaps a touch of pity. His lips were moving as though praying for her.

  The surge of anger on Raider Two’s face at his lack of fear was palpable. Perhaps that he was a Jew fuelled her anger. Shifting the knife’s angle, she sliced out his right ear. The hostage screamed now. Though no sound emerged, each viewer could hear the animal-like howl of pain.

  The scream goaded Raider Two on. She sliced off the other ear too. Then reversing her hold on the knife, she drove it into the hostage’s right eye. The scream ended abruptly as the knife entered the brain and drove the life out of him.

  Raider Two stood frozen, still holding the knife buried in the hostage’s skull. She seemed depleted. As though it was not just the hostage who had died. As though something inside her had died too.

  Ravinder felt his breath thud to a stop, unable to believe the brutality he had witnessed.

  Watching it on the BlackBerry’s screen, Raider One smiled. She began tapping something on the keypad. Then she watched impatiently as the file uploaded slowly.

  A moment later she gave a satisfied nod and was putting the phone away when a stun grenade smashed through a nearby window. It exploded with a blinding flash.

  Moments later, the IDF commandos raced in and unleashed a hail of bullets.

  Their mission complete, the two terrorists triggered their camera bombs and death claimed them.

  ‘The BlackBerry handset was destroyed so we’ll never know whom she sent that video to.’

  Peled’s comment was cut off as Raider Five raced into the central hall. She saw that her teammates were down and reached for the trigger of her camera bomb.

  A commando had heard her run in and shot at her twice even as her hand was reaching for
the camera bomb.

  His first bullet missed. The second grazed her temple. It bit deeply enough to make her reel and clutch at the wound.

  In a flash the commando was on her, hammering her into the ground, disarming her and pinning her down, making sure her hands got nowhere near her camera bomb.

  The carnage was over.

  The silence in the conference room was complete, though the footage on the screen rolled on.

  The task force commander now raced into the mosque. He came to a stunned stop as he surveyed the bodies.

  ‘The last hostage killed was Ean Gellner, the son of Ziv Gellner, who is one of our delegates for this Summit,’ Peled said softly.

  On the screen, the task force commander turned and said something to the commando who had captured Raider Five.

  ‘I knew we had to keep her capture from the media,’ Peled said.

  ‘You?’ Chance asked wide-eyed. ‘You were the task force commander?’

  ‘Yes,’ Peled replied. ‘I also did most of the post-event investigation. That is why I was asked to come down and brief you all.’

  A long silence followed his words.

  ‘Who were the others involved?’ Jennifer’s voice broke the moment.

  ‘The mastermind was a Qassam Brigades commander.’

  ‘Who?’ Jennifer asked again.

  ‘We are still not sure,’ Peled replied with a straight face. No way Israel would officially admit to Yusuf Sharbati’s involvement, not after he had been disposed of in Dubai by a kidon team barely a week ago. ‘But we do know that the Qassam commander was funded by someone from the Lashkar-e-Toiba.’

  ‘Not surprising,’ Ravinder remarked. ‘They’ve been looking for a way to up their profile in global terror for years. Of late, they’ve become frantic because their refusal to take up arms against their sponsors – the Pakistani government – has tagged them as betrayers of Islam.’

  ‘True,’ Mohite agreed. ‘That is why they are under huge pressure to redeem themselves in the eyes of the “ummah”, the community. Not to mention that they want to exploit the gap in leadership of Terror Central, with Osama dead and other senior Al Qaeda leaders having gone underground.’