by B K Thomas
Westbrook is the officer in charge of the twelve-hour shift. All new information is filtered through him. He will create assignments based on the priority of the data or the potential impact of the reports. Westbrook is good at his job. His early success in his career has won him the ear of some generals. His success and friends in high places allow him latitude when something catches his eye.
This is another piece of information to add to the massive puzzle of the Mideast. The Joint Special Operations Command Center is a steady hum of activity around the clock. Information is always pouring in, but it is often just bits and pieces. The domino collapse of Middle Eastern countries since the fall of Iraq floods them with oceans of intelligence. It takes a special touch to make sense of it all due to the sheer volume. Over the years, Major Westbrook has proven to be the man with the touch.
Westbrook participated in tracking down Saddam Hussein when he was hopping from hole to hole. Westbrook’s keen wit advanced him quickly through the intelligence ranks. He notices patterns and anomalies that others miss. He isn’t gun shy about making his observations known which annoys some of his colleagues, but he doesn’t worry about them. He is there to do his best and win the intelligence war, not make friends. His real friends appreciate his insights and encourage him to keep pushing his opinions and he does.
The more his suggestions work out the more his leaders grow confident in him. His commanding officers rave about him right now, but he knows, like in all business, he is only as good as his last success. The military is no different. A warrior who loses will not be wanted any more than a salesman who does not make sales. If he does not see the enemy where the enemy did not want to be seen, he will be blindsided and sidelined and he knows it.
He knows his cause is right. He believes in it with all his heart. It isn’t his belief that drives him so hard to win every day. His fear of failure is the insecurity driving him to push so hard. His confidence surged with every successful decision. He succeeds often, but the hounds of failure pursue him just as hard as ever. They nip at his heels and keep him driving harder to rise to the top.
Major Troy Westbrook stands overlooking the room and watches the men at their stations. Sergeant Jackson walks over and speaks with a few other soldiers then returns to his desk. They work to determine the significance of the information they now possess and what new insight they can gather in light of it. They take notes on the gaps in the intelligence at hand and made plans to source the data to fill in the gaps. It can’t always be done but he has confidence in his men. They are some of the smartest intelligence soldiers he has worked with and he is proud to work with them. Satisfied they will find what he wants, he returns to his desk and once again, he looks through the day’s information. He flips through the recent weeks of chatter they have gathered but nothing stands out. There is hardly ever a lull in activity. The hotspots range from Libya to Syria down to Yemen and beyond. It is hard to find a piece of land in the Middle East that is not contested now.
The question dominating his mind now is “what is ISIS up to”? Their strategy is domination and they are busy pursuing it on every front but is this new piece of information part of it? He knows this General is a prize but are they behind it or not? If they orchestrated the event, the fact they kidnapped him instead of killing him outright meant something. It is also something that they didn’t announce this success to the world. It’s a statement to assassinate a high-level leader but to kidnap him means they are planning something special for him, but what? It can be a local group looking to make a name for themselves, but his gut told him it is bigger. He knows from experience over the years it is smart to follow his gut. Somehow, he knows things he doesn’t know consciously. When he doesn’t follow his gut, he fails more often. He has learned over time when he gets a feeling like there is something more to a situation, he should pay attention.
He sits back in his chair and grabs his cup of coffee. He closes his eyes and smells the stout scent. He inhales deeply and lets out a sigh. There aren’t a whole lot of things that are pleasant for him in the sandbox. His coffee is one of the few things that brightens his day. He made arrangements with a few friends back home to ship him some new bags of coffee every few months. They know how much he loves his coffee so they keep him stocked. He prefers to drink his coffee black so he can savor all of the flavors. All the tones of the bean can be detected in the coffee if it is in its purest form. Black and bold, with the hints of lands far away. If the coffee is burnt or poorly roasted, he adds sugar and cream to help mask the ruined flavor. His friends don’t send him anything burnt like the kind that is so popular back home. They know he has a very particular taste and send him the kind he likes, except every once in a while, as a joke.
He already decided that after his military career is finished, he will travel the world and find a coffee plantation to buy. His friends say he will marry a Latin woman in the mountains of Guatemala and ride a donkey to work. He smiles at the thought. I should be so lucky! He can think of worse things.
Today, it is all a dream in the distance. Right now, the job is to help find and kill some of the most dangerous terrorists in the world. They are smart men. They are extremely dedicated to their cause which makes them even more dangerous. Their extreme commitment combined their intellect has resulted in a very ruthless group. The propaganda they release steadily shows their savagery but what most people don’t grasp, is how slick they are at the same time.
The men behind the machine of ISIS are intelligent and well-funded. To Westbrook’s chagrin, even the United States government has fueled the growth of Al-Qaida and ISIS. Whether through carelessness, negligence or short-sighted goals, ignorance has led to an explosion in growth and he is dealing with it now.
Many people in the West equate living in tents and caves to a lack of intelligence, but he has grown to appreciate the truth through the years. No matter where a man is from or his current circumstances, even an uneducated man can be extremely intelligent and resourceful. Many of the men he comes up against on a daily basis fit that description. He knows from experience that, in spite of their lack of formal education, even the least intelligent of men dedicated to a cause can pose a real threat. Combine that dedication with those that, living in a cave or not, are extremely intelligent and there is potential for large scale destruction and suffering. If they are able to get their way, they will make the Nazis look like rookies. They both have the same agendas, from his perspective, global domination and extermination of lesser people, whether they be Jew, Christian, or other non-believers. The world hasn’t changed much throughout history.
“Sir” His contemplation is interrupted. “I was looking into the General that was snatched, it sounds like his family has come up missing as well.”
“What do you think about that Sergeant?”
“Well sir, a couple of options come to mind. He has the information they want and they’re going to use the family against him to get it. Or maybe he went voluntarily, but it was staged to look like he was taken to dismiss any suspicion. Or maybe they’ll just put them all in cages and put a film online to show the weakness of those that oppose them.” The Sergeant offers.
The Major sat thinking for a moment. “I like the first explanation more than anything else. I’m not coming up with a better reason right now.” He leans forward in his chair and places his elbows on his desk. “The second doesn’t sound like it. Too much pretense, if he is a radical, he will care less what it looks like to outsiders. He can disappear anytime. He doesn’t care about burning bridges with the powers that be and from the value they place on people, I doubt he will care about his family much either.” He sat back up. “Yeah, I like the first one a lot. Get me more information on who he is and what he knows.”
“Roger that sir”. Sergeant Jackson heads back to his desk to pilfer through more data to see what he can find.
Westbrook knows it won’t be long before the Sergeant will have a piece of information for him. He is a sma
rt kid and a good research hound. He has a good nose for finding the right information. He is still young and excitable, but his future is promising as an intelligence analyst.
Westbrook returns to his coffee. Maybe he doesn’t buy a farm in Guatemala but maybe somewhere in the area. He enjoys Latin fare from the food, to the music, to the women. The Latins have a great deal to offer. He smiles; he is in his early thirties with a bright future ahead. He takes another sip. He enjoys everything about coffee. The aroma, the flavor, down to the warm mug, he likes it all.
The warm mug in his hands comforts him in the icebox of a room that they work. The laptops, TV’s, and projectors generate so much heat they have to offset it by blasting the room with cold air. Not to mention they are sitting in the desert. The result is a great environment for a hot drink in an insulated mug. The aroma can be enjoyed for the slightest moment before being blasted with the strength of gale-force winds into the dimly lit room. It wouldn’t matter if he was sitting in Jordan or Alaska, he is pretty sure the room would have the same freezing temperature. Everywhere he has been in the military if he isn’t in the field, the intelligence centers are freezer grade and he doesn’t expect any different with his next post. He opens his desk drawer to have a snack while he works on this new wrinkle. He rummages through the different crackers and past the chips to the bottom of the drawer to pull out a bar of dark chocolate. The pairing is perfect. He savors the combination as he reviews the intelligence from the day’s reports to determine what is important to his mission.
***
Mossad, Tel Aviv, Israel
Captain Ben Haim is a seasoned warrior from a land where terrorism is a daily event. In Israel, it is not a question of if, but of how many today? He is not easily excited because he is a professional. He brings everything he has when he commits to an action related to his job. He learned this from a young age. As a child he learned of his country’s struggle to survive. His father fought in the June war, what the rest of the world calls the Six-Day War. He learned from his family and his community that his very existence is in the balance every day. Even with the crushing victory of the June war, they are surrounded by enemies and must stay on their toes to continue to survive. Even though military service is mandated by the government he planned on making a career out of it from a young age. He can think of nothing better than helping his people stay safe and live to see another day.
Sergeant Eli approaches Captain Ben Haim, “Sir, we have a spike in activity.”
“Tell me more Sergeant”. Ben Haim replies with no trace of enthusiasm.
“We have an interesting report of an Iraqi general that was kidnapped, a General Fadhil.” The Sergeant relays the information antiseptically. “Looks like they grabbed his family as well. We don’t have much to go on. We are developing the profile for the general right now. I do know from what I have seen so far, he is a high ranking general in Saddam’s military. A quick search showed that he is involved in logistics. We’ll gather the details on what he did back then and what he was doing before he was kidnapped. Anything else you need to see?” The Sergeant waits for further instructions.
“No one has claimed responsibility?” Ben Haim questions.
“Not yet sir. It’s still early though.” The Sergeant replies.
“What time did they grab them?” Ben Haim asks.
“The general was on the way to work around six in the morning and the family was taken not long after.” The Sergeant follows up.
“That was over five hours ago.” Captain Ben Haim’s right eyebrow raises and just as quickly settles back down. “Sounds like you are off to the right start. Let’s see what the general was involved with when he worked for Saddam and who claims responsibility for taking him. That will tell us a great deal. Make this a priority and report back as soon as you hear anything.”
The Sergeant turns and heads back to his desk leaving Captain Ben Haim thinking about the possible implications. Ben Haim doesn’t like that no one has claimed responsibility. Iraqi intelligence may have kept it out of sight, but they are such a mess, he knows better. His sources will have heard something by now from one of their contacts. It’s common practice for the terrorists to rub their ability to move and operate in everyone’s face. They don’t pass up the opportunity to show off such a success unless they are trying to suppress the attention for another reason. He knows if that is the case, then this is going to be a long week. Logistics, why will someone kidnap a logistics general? What kind of materials are moving around that they are interested in? Money? Fuel? Weapons? What kinds of weapons? Most likely money or weapons. The wealth Saddam kept close and the same for the weapons. Unless they are the kind of weapons he didn’t want to get caught with?
Chapter 3
Baghdad, Iraq
The tables have turned on the hunter. The General is now the prey. He is not afraid for himself. He knows the type of men he is dealing with. He just hopes the journey to the final destination is not a long one.
He looks around to take in his settings. There are no windows in the room, only concrete walls. The room is dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. It hangs over the table that the General is sitting behind. He notices stains on the floor and some on the wall where previous visitors found out the kinds of evil that men are capable of. Where they learned how much they were able to handle.
The room is not very large. The General wonders if the size of the small room is intended to create tension. He feels it now in spite of his relative comfort. He isn’t afraid but knows the intent of his captors and being in a room where they work to inflict pain on their captives is enough to create stress for anyone. He knew men that worked for the regime in that capacity, but he stayed away from them as much as possible. He considered it a two-sided blade. He felt the further he stayed away from it the less likely he will get cut by it himself. He has seen glimpses occasionally of those that suffered the wrath of the president and his security forces. However, he has been able to maintain his distance from those events through most of his military career. He navigated the schemes of rivals and the moods of his leader without becoming personally intimate with the darker side of the country’s security forces. He believed there were better ways to achieve the intended outcomes without such drastic measures. However, he knows he would have found it within his ability to perform such tasks himself if it was required to survive, but it had not.
He takes a deep breath and looks down at his hands. He grew up farming at a young age. There is strength in his hands that was formed long ago. Much of his body is inherited from his family. His is a genetic and occupational makeup one at the same time. The DNA provided the building blocks and the family history formed the man. Unlike those before him in his family, he set out on a new course. He heard the stories of how the president fought to leave his past behind. The stories inspired him. He took the stories to heart and lived them for himself. They both had similar childhoods and faced comparable challenges to rise to the top. He excelled in leadership and military tactics and his belief and determination propelled him through the ranks. He found himself at the highest levels of military power as an advisor to the President for a decade. He could not stop the onslaught that came against the President but was able to help him prepare a strategy to last as long as possible when the time came. The President’s trust was delicate and dangerous, and the General was rewarded with an important position before the invasion. He rose from nothing to the heights of power, like the President. He had a great deal of admiration and respect for the man who was able to achieve so much. The General is no fool and had no love for the man. He was a man after all. He was smart, cruel and wild all at the same time. The General would have been more than happy to have replaced him but knew it was impossible without outside intervention.
A new day arrived when a new government was brought in by the Americans. The only man he had ever feared was not in power any longer and when he was captured the General felt relieved. He started to ho
pe a new future might be possible after all. The invaders set up democratic elections and did their best to ensure the various factions would be held in check. They were successful in some ways and not in others. They tried to keep any large-scale acts of retribution at bay with their new version of government. He navigated those waters successfully as well. He was able to adapt and swim with the changes sweeping across the desert. He was in senior leadership once again in the military within no time. Years passed and a new enemy rose up across the lands. He was never a very religious Muslim, so he isn’t interested in the religious governments that some people are. He considers them more dangerous than most. People are easy enough to lead without religion. His concern is with the authority of religion. Everything depends on who is speaking for God. There isn’t a lot of dialogue when someone is speaking for God. History showed time and again that situations can deteriorate very fast with leadership unchecked. When he first heard of ISIS, he didn’t think much of their cause, but he knew enough to take them seriously. He has seen many groups come and go with the wind, but it often takes a concentrated effort to crush them and expected them to be no different. The ISIS mantra, that they will trample down and crush the non-believers, is insignificant in his view. The world is littered with revolutions that held the same belief. One of the main differences between them and the other groups is that they did their work in broad daylight, in full view of the world. They promoted their cruelty on television and digital media calling on like-minded bloodthirsty men and women to join their cause.
The West does not think they were much of a threat. It is horrified by the indiscriminate tactics used by the group. It does not understand the brutality because it is blind to what is happening through much of the world. The West did not understand like he did. It is another vicious time in history. There are no rules. It is kill or be conquered. The victor will take all. There is no room to dialogue or share power. To do so will be like sharing your bed with a cobra. It will only be a matter of time before a bite that you will not recover from.
