The Mark of the Rebel

by B K Thomas

  “Sir, I think we might need to consider some options.” Sergeant Eli offers.

  “Sure, what’s on your mind?” Captain Ben Haim replies. He smiles knowing that Eli has been churning the situation as much as he has. He appreciates the Sergeant’s dedication.

  “Well, there’s not much available here. I mean maybe we can try a snatch and grab to get some intel out of these guys, but that’s not very promising.” The Sergeant tilts his head as he starts to unwind his thoughts. “The challenge is to get them back here in one piece, I’m not sure we can do it on such short time for planning.” Sergeant Eli lets out a big sigh, leans back. He stretches his arms over his head. “This Syrian civil war is going to kill me.”

  Captain Ben Haim taps his finger on the wall staring at the map. He turns and walks back to his desk and sits back down. “Yes, I hear what you’re saying about the snatch and grab. I think it’s too much risk in that area without better background information. Since things are so fluid there, I think a drone is the best option. Let’s keep it simple so we don’t have to risk any of our guys for them. They’re not worth it. That General is not innocent and besides, he’s a soldier. He knows the risks. We don’t want anything to happen where they slip through our grasp and accomplish their mission. If they get their hands on some nuclear material, we have no idea what their target is. I don’t like the sound of that at all. Odds are, we’re high on any list of targets they have.” He faces the wall and stares at it some more.

  “I agree sir. The drone is the best option. We can’t risk failure.” Sergeant Eli concludes in agreement. Sergeant Eli turns his attention back to his screen and begins hammering away on his keyboard.

  The Captain rolls the scenarios around in his mind some more despite his decision and the Sergeant’s agreement. Sergeant Eli disturbs his thought process, “Captain, I have the statement ready. I’ve emailed it to you, please look it over, Sir.”

  Captain Ben Haim whips his chair around and moves the mouse so the screen will come back to life. He looks over the email and makes some quick minor alterations. “All right Sergeant, it’s in your inbox. Check it quick again and if it’s clean, send it to the Americans.”

  The Americans might already know about the General, but he has to keep them happy. The Americans didn’t let him know yet so if they already have the information it will look good if he volunteers it first. Yes, he has to keep them happy, they are useful. His thoughts return to the subject at hand. He will still need to offer up to his superiors a possible snatch and grab, but he knows realistically it will be too difficult to capture them and transport them back for interrogation. If they had only been near the Golan Heights, it will have been a real option but out in the middle of Syria, it’s a stretch. They have their contacts in some of the rebel groups, but he knows the ones they are working with aren’t sophisticated enough to pull this off. He also knows the ones that are smart enough to do it won’t. It will most likely come down to a strike from the ground or the air. He needs to determine his resources for the likely execution points. The pressing question is how long he should let the situation progress. He will have to time it right to make sure they can pull it off. If they miss the window, the results could be a disaster.

  Chapter 10

  Highway 4, Syria

  The General cannot sleep, even though the crossing into Syria is uneventful. He is thinking too much about his situation again. It’s hard not to since he has nothing but time on his hands. He can only imagine how much his family is scared. He is determined to find a way to get them out of this no matter what it costs him. If he can keep his family alive, time will be on his side. These rebels and jihadists won’t be able to hold on as the world continues to wake up to their evil. These patches of land have been fought over multiple times throughout the past few years and right now Mashal and his friends own it. The group has a straight shot into the heart of Syria from where they crossed. The major risk for Mashal is who might be looking when they crossed and who they might tell.

  The General thought about leaving a trail for someone to follow but he knows it is nearly impossible to expect anything. No one knows where he is. His government’s intelligence, though effective in some areas, is of no use in no man’s land. They have no eyes to see in this land. He is in the black hole of ISIS and they will be seen less and less the further away they drove from his home. The Americans or Israelis are his best hope. If they find him, he might be able to help them and have a shot at staging some sort of rescue for his family. He knows it is a stretch since he has no real idea where they even are. Even if the Americans promise to help his family, they have a history of forgetting their promises. He knows there is little hope of a rescue for him or his family, but it is one of the few options he has at this point. If ISIS is able to get the weapons material it is after, it will be a disaster for everyone. He has no good options. He will have to see how things go and maybe, in the chaos of it all, he might see a way out. He knows, in battle, the best-laid plans go out the window when the bullets start flying. He also knows there will be moments where the course of the entire event can change in a flash. If they run into a firefight and chaos erupts, he will take his chances. He has to; he is determined to find a way to save his family. He does not want them to suffer the horrors their captors are too eager to provide. He has seen the results firsthand before when the Iraqi army has to deal with ISIS battling them city after city. The wake of destruction they leave behind is sickening. His heart sank at the thought of his family in the hands of such butchers. He turns to his side. He reassures himself he will find a way to get them released.

  He thinks of the last time his family had been together. It was a good week. He found out he is in line for a new position and his son was in a soccer match the same weekend. His son is a great young player. Something these thugs cannot appreciate. The discipline and hard work that goes in to achieving something, building something. Accomplishing something not through destruction and blood but through sweat and effort. They have no understanding, they have no future, but they are too blind to see it.

  The night is empty. There are no cars on the road. The General thinks of all the times in his life that he has traveled in faith similar to theirs’. He had once been obedient to a cause and traveled at breakneck speed toward its fulfillment. He too blindly chased it at whatever the cost. He remembers what it is like to be full of zeal. He remembers what it is like to be willing to do whatever it takes to achieve success. He was close to being like these men once upon a time but was never anything like them he judged. He thinks of how he has served under men like them before out of necessity. He has served them with fear and trepidation, but all the while tempered with ambition. He wanted to rise to the top, and over time, he did. He grew into his ambition and was able to stomach the darkness. He learned to dismiss the darkness as a necessary evil to survive in the world. Now he finds himself enveloped by the very kind of evil he once endured as necessary, but with no way to escape it. He is surrounded by men that will kill his son, his wife, his daughter and him with no hesitation. Not only that, they will make it as horrific as possible. He finds himself at the mercy of the same kind of evil he has served so many years under the president. He lets out a deep sigh. There is no easy way out. He knows most likely it will not end well for any of them, but the chance he might somehow save his family keeps him pressing forward. The empty darkness beyond the window gives him too much to think about. He is restless until he finally falls into a deep sleep. His sleep is more out of exhaustion than peace as his mind finally escapes the present. His dreams remind him of the times he spent with his family before the chaos he is in now.

  It is mid-day when he awakes to the warmth of sunshine on his cheek. The highway stretches out ahead of them as he squints and tried to focus on his surroundings. He awakes to American pop music pulsing through the cabin of the SUV. The General rubs his face and looks at the men in the front seats bewildered. He had heard that jihadists often indulge in all
sorts of forbidden behaviors because they believe their sacrifice of death for Allah will cleanse them.

  “Ah! Welcome back, General!” The driver exclaims looking at him in the rear-view mirror.

  “Huh?” The General replies groggily.

  “Welcome back from your long sleep. Did you dream of paradise and the rewards of the faithful?” The driver asks with a smirk.

  “What? Oh, no.” The General is getting his bearings. “No, I dreamt of my family. We are having dinner with our friends.”

  “But General, you’re too focused on this life. That is what got you into this situation. You have not been faithful to the cause. Allah, the merciful, has given you another chance though. You are very lucky!” Chides the driver.

  The General looks out of the window and ponders his statement. He is right. He has been very lucky. He could have been killed already. He would have been if they didn’t want something from him. He is fortunate he is valuable. Regardless of what their goal is, they are just men. But they are men that want something from him. The music blaring loudly from the speakers is proof. His president wanted loyalty and a willingness to sacrifice regardless of the cost. The General went along because it is the best option to get what he wanted. Now, these men wanted something too. He grew frustrated at the thought of being a pawn, once again, instead of being in charge. He rose through the ranks to protect himself against situations like this once already but here he is again at the mercy of someone else doing their bidding.

  “Don’t you need to be careful on these roads?” He tries to shift the subject.

  “Oh, you haven’t heard.” The driver states with a smile. “The Americans and their allies are cowering in fear. Our brothers have made great sacrifices in Syria, even their families have contributed. Allah has even given us favor by revealing the US bases all over Syria as a reward for the sacrifices of our brothers. Yesterday, our Turkish brethren released the information in the newspaper for the world to see and laugh at the imagined security of the Americans.”

  The General’s stomach is uneasy at the news. He weighs the possible impacts. It could be good as their path will most likely be easier if the Americans pull back and tighten operations in response to the exposure. Defensively this will make sense since they are more exposed now. It would be bad for him as his chance for rescue or discovery might be less due to the restricted operations in light of this news. The Americans might take a different approach and be even more aggressively looking for terrorist operators since the locations are public information now. The General could get caught up in the crossfire. Once again, he has no idea and it only raises more questions.

  “Oh, no, I haven’t heard. So, they gave the locations of the bases? But you probably already knew they were there.” The General baited.

  “Yes, we knew of many, but not all. Our Turkish brothers also gave us the troop strengths of the bases. That makes the bases easier to target, we can be even more selective.” The driver is looking at the road but flashes a smile in the rear-view mirror at the General.

  “Hmm. Yes, that is good information to prepare strikes. When was this news released?” The General asks.

  “It was only yesterday, but we have celebrated it ever since.” The driver smiles into the rearview mirror again.

  “Can you trust the source of this information? It could be a trap.” The General advises.

  “Oh no, General. We trust our Turkish brothers. We will be able to kick the Americans out of Syria with this information.” The driver boasts.

  “Do you really think you can beat them in a fight? Just knowing where they are is one thing but beating them is an entirely different one.” The General counters.

  “There are many ways of defeating an enemy General.” Mashal finally joins the banter. “You know this. You were part of it in Iran. You can win without winning or as the Americans experienced in Vietnam. They can win the battles but still, lose the war!” His smile is deathly, and his voice rose in pitch from the joy the words brought him.

  “Yes, you can lose the battles and win the war.” The General wonders how close to reality the statement is. A few years ago, he would have laughed at such a statement but as the years have gone by, the different terrorist organizations have mutated and adapted to the environment so much they have surprised him. Former Baathist officers had joined their ranks when Iraq fell to the Americans when they saw the shift in the political landscape. They had bolstered the terrorists with better organization and efficiency. Their disjointed groups started to gel into an army. That army took over large swaths of land at every turn. He hoped this new turn of events did not eliminate his chance of escape or rescue completely.

  “So, you think you don’t have as much to be worried about now?” The General asks.

  The driver looks at him solemnly, “Between what our brothers have done, laying the American bases naked before us and with what we have done and are going to do. They are scared, and they should be.”

  Chapter 11

  Damascus, Syria

  Sahila sits staring at the wall. It has been a while since she remembered anything other than emptiness and today is no different. A million thoughts race through her head as she stares. They range from thoughts about her late husband to thoughts about her life now and the risks she is bringing upon her family. She doesn’t want anything to happen to them but knows something might. She knows she cannot protect them. There are other lives at stake, and she cannot burn her entire world down in protest to her husband’s death. She has the sense to understand this much. That is why it bothers her. She knows also knows her life has now been freed from the daily concerns of the average Syrian. She is less concerned about her personal safety. She is no longer her own person in her own mind. She has become a beacon for those suffering at the hands of terror. A call of defiance to oppressive governments. Still, she feels empty, she wants more. The desire to see change and bring an end to the rampant evil in her country calls to her. She is not a hero, but her pain has drawn her to the brink of becoming one.

  “Sahila!”, her sister calls to her from the hallway with excitement that cannot be hidden.

  “Yes?” She responds distantly.

  “You won’t believe the flood of responses you are getting.” Yaqeena bursts into the room with her phone in her hands and a grin on her face.

  “What?” Sahila responds indifferently with little interest.

  “You have to see this.” Her sister insists, missing the detached look on Sahila’s face and the tone of her voice. She walks up to her and shoves the phone into her line of sight.

  Sahila looks without seeing, then hands it back. “What do you want me to see?” She asks annoyed.

  “Don’t you see all the followers?” Yaqeena holds the phone up for her to look again. “You are becoming a global sensation!” Yaqeena smiles big as she congratulates her.

  Sahila takes the phone back from her sister. Her eyes focus and see why her sister is so excited. The following continues to grow exponentially. There are thousands of followers now and more join as she watches the screen.

  “What does this mean?” Sahila asks, childlike.

  “It means we can make a real difference.” Her sister encourages. “We can take what has happened here and bring an end to it by giving a voice to our pain. You can lead a new movement. You can lead us like the American, Martin Luther King Jr. You can lead us into a new day.”

  “I don’t know about all of your fantastic ideas sister, but I thank you for your faith in me.” Sahila brushes off the uncomfortable idea as she lowers the phone.

  “Sahila, you don’t understand.” She pauses and looks Sahila in the eyes. “It is not your choice any longer. It is your destiny. You have suffered as no other should suffer. Now, you will lead the charge against those who are so heartless to inflict such suffering upon you and me and people like us. These people have no compassion. They are cold-blooded killers. They do not love life. They love what they can extract from it. They are a
cancer. They only love destruction and intimidation. We both know they are evil. Now we have the chance to do something about it.” Yaqeena’s excitement grew with the words.

  Sahila stares at her sister. “Where did you come by all this wisdom?” She asks, taken back by the outpouring.

  “You may have forgotten but you have inspired me since I was little. I watched you time and time again fight against injustice. Remember when some boys from class were picking on the girl with glasses and you stood up for her?” Yaqeena reminds her.

  “Yes, I remember,” Sahila responds flatly.

  “Yes, it is one of the many times you have stood against the tide and changes its course. This is another time. You must rise to the occasion.” Her sister challenges.

  “That is all great to remember, but we were children. We are no longer children. Our mother and father are in danger because of these videos. You know it as well as I. We are all in danger now because of these acts of defiance. We must be careful. I am thankful for you sister. You have been a great comfort during this time. Still, you must keep in mind we are not the only ones at stake here. Our families and even our friends may be in danger as we move forward. So, in light of these considerations, and the potential dangers all around us, forgive me if I don’t share your enthusiasm.” Sahila states decisively.

  “I understand,” Yaqeena admits. “You have pain that I have not experienced.” She looks around the room as she sorts her thoughts then starts speaking again. “But don’t think you are the only one suffering a loss.” She gathers her courage and continues. “I have lost friends, you have lost friends, you have lost a husband, I have lost a brother-in-law. Our entire country is suffering slaughter because of the greed of governments and fanatical bloodthirsty murderers. But now, you have a chance to make a difference. You must remember, our family and friends are in danger even if we do nothing! Aahil was a good man and he never made a video.”