Fueling the Rage Page 12
“I want to surrender, and I don’t know who I am surrendering to.”
The CIA agent took charge and answered with a clear statement, “You are now a prisoner of The United States of America.”
“Thank God. I thought the Jews had me.”
The Mossad smiled, but said nothing. Ivan went on with his somewhat planned statement. “I am ready to change sides. I have no family, someone’s roadside bomb killed my parents, and the South Lebanese Army killed my two older brothers. No one cares if I am alive or dead and now the Hezbollah will blame me for the destruction in Jazzin. I am a marked man. What is my cause? Why am I fighting? I have been fighting all my life. I am twenty nine, old, and tired.” Then he made his plea, “I am a good fighter, but I need a cause to once again be happy. I want to work for America.” The Mossad tapped the CIA agent on the shoulder and they left the room.
“I recently transferred ten million Euros into his and his friend’s account. Hezbollah killed his friend just before our helicopter landed to pick them up. We retrieved 19.5 million from the accounts and he may think he still has the money. The CIA needs to interrogate him because we are looking for two cells that are planning attacks on America. We must have his contact, but we don’t need him as an agent.”
Mossad replied, “If we can get your answers, knows that he’s not rich, and if he still wants to change sides then I’ll take him.” They agreed on what it would take and returned to the meeting room.
The Mossad looked at Ivan and told him what the rules were, but did not tell him he would be working for Israel.
“I’ll work for you and tell you all I know. I will answerer any questions that you have. If I work for you will I get paid?” Ivan asked.
Mossad smiled, “We will pay you, if I don’t kill you first.”
Ivan started talking and the team listened to him. It was a big flip. The CIA agent was very happy. Ivan gave names, places, and the planned events. He also gave a fact that worried the team. When Ivan finished, he looked at the Mossad and asked his question again.
“Will you pay me or will you kill me?”
“Ivan, welcome to the Mossad.”
“Will you make me become a Jew?”
“No Ivan, but you will only kill who we allow you to kill.” Ivan thought to himself. I will become a Jew next year. Maybe they pay Jews more.
*****
Henry’s ride to Muzuk, Libya was low and fast. The helicopter landed at the great home and as always drew a crowd of gun carrying security guards. The view of the sprawling complex reminded him that his impressive home in Aozou, Chad came from the table scraps of the Prince. When the dust settled, the Prince walked from the great home and they embraced. They walked back into a comfortable room near the main entrance. The great home had rooms were exact replicas of someone else’s earlier creations. Some famous old London hotel used one room as a library, and the original owner created a copy in Muzuk. The books and furnishings were identical, and in the same order as the original. The Prince enjoyed the company and their conversation, but Henry got down to business.
He was quick to remind the Prince, “The ayatollah used me to develop an attack on the soil of the great Satan. America is unraveling my plan, and is discovering more day by day.” He went on to review the attacks leveled in Somalia, Cameroon, Paris and, and Jazzin. “With each attack they’re getting closer to us.”
The Prince looked shocked, “The ayatollah said that they would never come after me in Libya.”
Henry verbalized a defense that put him at risk with the Prince. “Libya has angered them before and they attacked the ruler himself.” Henry was like a leopard changing spots before the Prince’s eyes.
“We must call the American Embassy in Chad and denounce all violence. We will invite American politicians to visit us, speak of the new era of understanding, and explain how you, the Prince, will use your wealth to bring peace between the Muslims and Christians.”
“We must take real action. Our homes could house many Muslim and Christian orphans. We can encourage freedom of religion. We can sponsor some American church to convert some of the Muslims back to their original Christian faith.” When he finished he shut his eyes and waited for a bullet from the pistol on the Prince’s hip. With his eyes shut, he added his final words, “If we are loved, they cannot kill us.”
“Can we still make my African kingdom?”
Henry continued, “It will come faster if we can build a friendship with America. I sponsored two American martyrs that live in Atlanta, Georgia, and two more from Palestine. A Lebanese named Ali Atwen put both operations together for me. The Hezbollah just found his body twenty-five miles south of Jazzin. I could call the American FBI and warn them. I could blame Atwen for the actions. They know nothing of us yet, but if we delay, America will discover me, and then kill both of us. We must end this now, because America has a strange rule. They stop killing when a war ends.”
The Prince demanded, “We must stop all hostility against America.”
Henry and the Prince had just reversed every position that they ever held. “Let’s do these things before they kill us and then we’ll see what the future will bring.”
The Prince said one final thing, “I must meet with the ayatollah.”
Henry was a very organized man and in the course of one day, he had contacted the American Embassy in Chad. Within three hours from the contacts in Chad, the DCIA was informed. After hearing the news of the pending martyr attack in Atlanta, Georgia, the DCIA contacted the DFBI and one hour later, they had a face-to-face meeting. After talking for a few minutes, they realized that this was happening because of projects completed by The Group. They sent their first report to the President and scheduled a meeting with The Group for the following morning.
Henry reported to the Prince the events of the day. The Prince tried to call the ayatollah, but he was flying from Yemen to Iran. When the ayatollah reached his office in Tehran, he called the Prince. The Prince tried to inform the ayatollah of the new plan, but the ayatollah was worried about the security of the call. The ayatollah requested, “Can we meet in Khartoum, Sudan, at the airport tomorrow afternoon?” The Prince agreed to the meeting.
One day later, America’s Ambassador to Chad asked to meet with Henry in person. The next day, Henry had the meeting. The Ambassador and three CIA agents met with Henry at his home in Aozou, Chad. The four men were welcomed like kings. Henry watched the cloud of dust as the long black town car made its way through the open gate. Security guards at the gate waved small American flags and directed them to the front entrance of the great house. Henry waited at the opened the door to his home, then walked to the black car, and opened the door for the Ambassador. Henry’s security guards all stood at attention as the door to the car opened and the ambassador and the three agents stepped out. They formed a line, stood at attention, and saluted the Americans as they shook hands with Henry. The parties entered the house.
*****
The Prince and his two favorite bodyguards boarded his Falcon 50 Jet and headed to Khartoum as directed by the ayatollah. The ayatollah, with six bodyguards used an Iranian Gulfstream IV to reach Khartoum and arrived two hours early. The Prince was one hour early and the pilot pulled the Falcon Jet into a large hangar and parked beside the Gulfstream. The ayatollah and the Prince embraced and the two of them went to the meeting room at the back of the hangar. The Prince’s bodyguards and three of the ayatollah’s guards stood by the jets and made friendly conversations. The Prince’s pilot left the jet to use the restroom at the back of the hangar.
After a short conversation between the ayatollah and the Prince, the ayatollah pulled a revolver from his robe and quietly called in his three additional guards. One of the guards pulled a blackjack from his belt and with all his strength, struck the back of the Prince’s head and he fell to the ground. The three guards were carrying AK47s. They left the meeting room, went into the hangar, and subdued the Prince’s guards. They tied the guards and then kno
cked them into deep unconsciousness with several blows of their blackjacks. The pilot returned from the restroom and the guards rendered him unconscious. The pilot was strapped into the Falcon’s left seat and the Prince and his bodyguards were strapped into their seats.
The copilot of the Gulfstream IV entered the Falcon jet and took the right seat. He turned the oxygen and autopilot off and taxied to the runway. He put on his individual portable oxygen mask, pressed the throttles forward, and climbed the aircraft to thirty five thousand feet, flying due north until he was west of Atbara, Sudan. He turned and flew east over the city and then reduced the altitude to twelve thousand feet. He reversed course again, flying west over the city. Soon as far as he could see, there was nothing ahead of him but desert. He set the controls for a gentle descent that would fly the plane into the ground. The speed of the jet was set to one hundred and fifty miles per hour. He calmly put on his parachute, walked to the passenger compartment, and exited the Falcon. He controlled the descent of his parachute and was able to land within a mile of a paved road in Atbara. He buried his parachute, walked through the sand to the road, and called one of the ayatollah’s guards to pick him up.
The Falcon was a very stable aircraft and it took thirty-five miles for the jet to fly into the ground. There was no fire or explosion and the aircraft broke into small sections as it met the desert sand nose first. It tumbled tail over nose and littered the sand for one half mile. The collision with the ground triggered an emergency satellite beacon. An American satellite collected and analyzed the signal. The FAA notified Sudan of the downed jet. The Falcon’s documents listed Henry on its emergency notification sheet, and the FAA alerted him of the crash. It took two days for Sudanese vehicles to cover the distance in the soft sand of the desert. The Sudanese retrieved the bodies and the black box, and sent the black box COD to the French aircraft company. The leading funeral parlor of Atbara built beautiful wooden coffins for the four victims. The ayatollah flew from Tehran to Atbara to retrieve the coffins and then on to Muzuk, Libya. Henry was there for the arrival of the ayatollah. He landed on the airstrip beside the great home. With him were his six bodyguards. The ayatollah would perform the burial ceremonies.
The entire town of seven thousand attended Mohammad Gresera II’s funeral. Many of the town people worried about their future. The Prince was not a bad leader, and he had a skill of picking highly qualified natives to do his bidding. The town was very well organized and the man that reported directly to the Prince carried the western title of Mayor. Henry would review the Mayor’s annual budget and deposit needed funds into a bank account. The operation was efficient and there was no graft.
The entire town both loved and feared the Prince. Security guards maintained order and handed out instant decisions of justice. There were no jails and all crimes separated into two types. Small offenses such as wearing improper clothing were punishable by a lashing. The town had a judge for serious crimes such a stealing. Security investigated, and the judge questioned the defendant. The judge ordered the release of the innocent, or the quick death of the guilty. Lying to authorities was punishable by the slow death of skinning. It was the best place in Libya to live.
Henry and the ayatollah met in the great home. Henry was deeply involved in the new direction that the Prince and he had taken. Over the next month of mourning, many important individuals would visit the great home. A few significant Americans showed their sorrow at the loss of the new man of peace. Muammar Qaddafi, the leader of Libya flew in for the funeral service and then quickly left, but the Treasurer of Libya and his team of inheritance tax specialists stayed at the great home until all taxes were paid. Henry was pleased that the ayatollah was a man with whom he could talk. He understood the conversations that were about business. He would never admit that his Muslim faith was more like a club membership than a religion, but he could talk the talk with the best of them.
At Langley, The Group again met at CIA headquarters and the CIA agent gave a report. “America had a polar orbiting satellite used for crop analysis. It contained an extremely high-resolution camera that covered a pole-to-pole strip of land, including Sudan and the dangerous eastern Mediterranean area. During the brief coverage of Sudan, it recorded, in detail, the first thirty-four minutes of the flight of the Falcon 50.”
The CIA agent played a video for The Group. “I am fast forwarding. The video clearly shows, that near Atbara, the door of the plane opened and someone parachuted from the jet. The analysis of the black box confirmed the open door, and revealed that the cabin oxygen switch was in ‘off’ position for the entire flight. The possibility for life without oxygen by the time the jet reached thirty five thousand feet was zero. They found the pilot’s body in the wreckage. Therefore, an unidentified copilot was likely flying the Falcon, opened a door, and parachuted to safety.”
The General responded, “The Prince was murdered, but by who?”
“Directly prior to the flight to Atbara there was a meeting between the Prince and the ayatollah at the airport in Khartoum, Sudan, Africa.”
The DCIA stood. ”The ayatollah killed him!”
The SOD took the floor. “We’ve been fighting a secret war. Sam and Bill have done a marvelous job, but like most wars, they end before the generals die. Our news from Chad and Libya tell us that the Prince and his man Henry had seen the error of their ways. This war is over and we have won. We arrested two possible suicide bombers in Atlanta, and Israel took out a dangerous Palestinian cell. It is over, but this Prince killing bothers me.”
Bill replied with an idea. ”We could join the Ambassador and pay our respects for the Prince and gather information.”
*****
Henry and the ayatollah sat together in the oval office of the great home. Henry analyzed the trust for the succession of the wealth of the Prince. Henry gave his legal opinion to the ayatollah. He realized that the Prince was murdered, but he held this knowledge close.
“The Prince’s trust is clear. Everything goes to you. I will record the trust in Libya. You pay the tax and the event is complete. This trust continues, and it lists me as your only heir. Do you want me to make a new trust?”
“No changes are needed for the time being. I’ll live in the great home and you’ll keep doing what you are doing.”
Henry asked. “What about the changes that I have made? As part of the Prince’s new image, I converted twenty bedrooms of the great home into a school and dormitory for orphans. I have already filled sixty beds with Christian and Muslim children. My home in Chad now houses thirty of the boys and girls. The community of Muzuk converted a building into a church for four hundred Christians and a Southern Baptist missionary is holding Sunday services.”
The ayatollah shook his head, “This is a time for such actions, but we have much time.”
Talking started diverting eyes
No honor passes through
The truth is shrouded in but lies
Only honest men are true
Chapter 10
The director of the SOD, and the DCIA, met regularly with the Senate Select Intelligence Committee. The law requires the President to approve covert operations, and to notify the SSIC of the scope of pending operations. The DCIA scheduled a meeting the committee. He had used every possible tool to officiate the minimum reporting requirements of the law. His written reports to the SSIC contained paragraphs of information on the actions of The Group. He withheld testimony needed for the committee to understand the measures. The senate committee members were overwhelmed with paperwork, and relied totally on his verbal testimony. Not one of the men had ever read the top-secret reports of the DCIA. They met in a secure room. There were five senators seated in comfortable chairs behind a long, elevated desk. The DCIA and his administrative assistant sat in front of them at a smaller table. The DCIA began reading his prepared statement. Without details, he claimed success for several recent operations, and it put the members of the committee into a difficult position. The DCIA could the se
e the face of the majority leader turn red as he read his prepared opening statement. The Chairman interrupted, “What in the hell are you talking about?”
He looked at the clerk taking down words, “Clean that up!”
DCIA replied, “Did you read my last two prepared statements?” “We waved the prepared statements! Without objections, I call for a one hour recess.” There were no objections. “Director, please follow me to my office.”
The DCIA’s administrative assistant had worked with his boss for thirty-five years. He whispered. “The President can kill you, but the Chairman can only fire you.”
They walked together to the senator’s office, “That’s a bad joke Ted.”
The Senator William Burns had grown up in politics with the Director David Freeman. “What are you up to?”
“The SOD has developed a cost effective response to terrorist attacks on American soil. It is working, and I need the SSIC to give us some room on our past operations.”
“Does it involve death and destruction?”
The Director smiled at him, “There were almost three hundred killed at the Tampa Mall bombing. In response, we took out close to a thousand of the enemy, and without a single line of press. There are just a few left, and peace is breaking out. Peace or no peace, I need to kill an Iranian religious leader. He is too rich and dangerous for us to let him continue planning his attacks. Eliminating him will be risky, but you need to let us do this.”
“Dave, I trust you will keep the President clean.”
The Director answered, “You can count on us. Thank you for your advice.”
“I stopped the meeting because I am worried about two of the new senators. I need to check for leaks. Hold back your testimony for now, but give us a misdirected operation. Make up something about a country that you have no plans to attack. I want five people I trust to be able to offer you a little advice and consent. The SSIC does not need to make your missions more dangerous.”