The Mark of the Rebel

by B K Thomas

  “I thought the truck would take us,” Yaqeena complains as she watches the truck turn around and drive away on the dirt road.

  “Yes, I’m not sure if we’re ready for such a journey.” Sahila agrees.

  Tarek is prepared for the reaction. “You will both do fine. I’m going with you so I will make sure you get there.” He encourages. “It is better to walk to Lebanon than die in Syria.” He says with a shrug.

  His words are simple but true. Sahila nods. She turns to Yaqeena, “We will do this. We have a longer journey ahead of us than this. This will only make us stronger to reach our destination.”

  Yaqeena looks around, her eyes wide with wonder. “How will we see?”

  Tarek smiles, “We will use the moon.” He reaches in his pocket. “Or flashlights” he hands one to her. Yaqeena lets out a sigh. “Okay, when do we start?”

  Tarek turns and sees the group walking up a trail. “Our friend is here. We leave now.” They join the group and begin the hike up a trail that has been used many times before. “Tarek, how much money is this costing?” Sahila asks as they walk the trail.

  “It’s one thousand dollars each. You will pay me back when we get to Lebanon.” He informs her without looking back.

  “Thank you, Tarek.” She says near tears. They can afford the money, but the panic and the fear has taken a toll. She is glad it will be dark soon. She can cry under cover of the night and no one will know.

  ***

  Al Mezzah Military Airport, Syria

  The men inside open the bunker door to the surprise and suspicion of the Syrian Special Forces outside. The Special Forces soldiers are seasoned and not easily panicked but they have suspicions of their own about the deadly materials inside the bunker. They do not want to take any chances and make the situation worse by mistake.

  A single man walks out slowly with an AK-47 slung across his back. His face is covered by a black scarf and around his waist is a bomb vest. He is willing to go all the way to achieve his purpose and the Special Forces soldiers are aware of it.

  A Special Forces Officer walks out to meet the man to determine what he wants. He holds out a hand to let his forces know to relax.

  The man walking out of the bunker carries the black flag of ISIS on a pole in his right hand. He comes to a stop in the middle of the ramp and waits for the officer to meet him.

  A soldier behind a barrier is recording the events for the record and streaming them live back to military headquarters. The video is grainy from such a distance and the men are small in the picture. They look like toys to the viewers.

  The special forces officer stops in front of the man with the flag and begins to speak. “What do you require?” The officer asks to move this along as quickly as possible.

  “Brother, I require nothing. I have given everything up.” The man says calmly.

  The officer’s heart jumps. He knows from the look in the man’s eyes that the conversation over. He turns his head to tell his men to get down.

  The man raises his right arm, so the black flag can unfold in the slight breeze then he yells as loudly as he can.

  Multiple detonations erupt within the bunker followed by more as the charges explode canisters and containers filled with gases and poisons meant for the enemies of the regime. Fire screams out of the mouth of the bunker. The heat burns everything organic nearby and poisonous soot and smog hurls up the ramp like a shot from a cannon. A strange colored smoke billows out and begins to spread high above the city and out into the wind sweeping northeast.

  ***

  Erneh, Syria

  Umar reaches the city and finds the girl isn’t there as he expected. Of course, her family says they are expecting her, but she has not arrived yet. He decides he will wait and go to a café for some roasted olives and bread instead of going back to Damascus. A thought passes through his mind that he will never find this girl, but he shakes it off. He might have to take the entire family in after all. It will be such a waste, but they brought it upon themselves.

  It is ten after five when the hot tea arrives at the table. His driver smokes another cigarette as they wait. “Where do you get the money for the endless cigarettes you smoke?” He asks his driver.

  “Some here, some there.” He answers without commitment. “Friends give me cigarettes and other people too.” He laughs. “I think they worry that if they don’t give me some when I ask, I’ll take them in for questioning.”

  Umar laughs at the thought. “Yes, I should ask for cigarettes too then.” He laughs and picks up an olive.

  ***

  Highway 1, Syria

  Mashal smiles as he thinks of the detonation his brothers have prepared. It would be the beginning of the execution phase of his plan. A mountain blocks his view of Damascus since they are on their way out of the country, but he expects he will see a result soon enough. He has set up a series of detonations and it all starts at the bunker.

  The other brothers had already driven their trucks to the designated locations. One is parked by the Damascus Sword in the center of Damascus another is by the Science and Education school in Al Midan, still another near the technical schools on the way to the airport. Still, another is near Al Mezzah, and one has been driven up to Duma and another overlooks the city on Mount Qaisioun to maximize the effect. The expected toll is going to make the World Trade Towers look like child’s play. They will put the world on notice. Less than a minute from the detonation at the bunker the next phase is set to begin. The timers have been set to 17:11 to mark a time set before he is even born. He can’t hear the first detonation but a flicker in the sky indicates there has been an event. He looks at his watch, they are right on time. He turns and smiles at Zamir who is straining to see over the mountain to catch a glimpse of the success. It is torturous to know he has been successful but unable to know to what degree yet.

  “Congratulations brother!” Mashal exclaims as the sky flickers rapidly with the multiple simultaneous detonations.

  ***

  Damascus, Syria

  Sahila’s mother is shaken. The visit by the Political Security Directorate officer is too close to her daughter’s departure. She hopes her children are safe and says a prayer after the man leaves. She knows her daughters will not be truly safe until they escape the country. She did what she could and sent the officer on a pointless chase and which should give her daughters the head start they need. She smiles at the thought. The door to the apartment opens and her heart skips a beat. It is Baba. He walks in and lets out a sigh.

  “There isn’t any honey at the market. They say they will have some at the end of the week.” He lets her know as he crosses the entrance. He sees the PSD business card on the table and picks it up.

  “So, it’s true.” He remarks and sits it down. “They are looking for them?”

  “Yes, but they weren’t here.” She holds back the truth from him.

  “It’s good they weren’t here. I hope they have already left then.” He admits. “You know they won’t get very far if they aren’t already on the road.” He predicts.

  “They have already left.” She admits to him.

  He walks over and sat down in his chair. He takes a drag on his cigarette and pushes out the smoke in the shape of circles. When the girls were little they loved when he would make rings of smoke. They both tried to catch them stumbling over each other making everyone laugh. The older they grew they still enjoyed the floating rings. It reminded Sahila of space she would say. He always thought she was a dreamer. She has proven him right. He will never see them again he knows. They would have liked the rings of smoke. He smiles when he hears a noise and looks to the window.

  “Sounds like more explosions.” He observes.

  “Sometimes, I wonder if it will ever stop.” She looks out the window and stares in the direction of the rumbling. Something else catches their attention. It happens too fast to grasp. As she looks to see what it is, light blinds them as it bursts into the apartment.

 
; ***

  Erneh, Syria

  Umar stabs another olive with a toothpick when a flicker of light appears on the horizon. Darkness crowds the horizon as the sun settles, but suddenly a flash counters all the effort to put an end to the day. Like a series of fireworks, the sky begins to light up with multiple bursts that capture Umar’s attention. The driver looks over his shoulder to see what is going on and is surprised.

  “What is all of that?” he asks confused.

  “That my son is the end of our career,” Umar announces without emotion. Ever the opportunist, “I think it is time we seek refuge in Lebanon, my friend.” Umar declares understanding his time in Syria is over, at least for now.

  “What?” His driver looks back at him even more bewildered. “What has happened?”

  “That my friend is something nuclear. Something that has ended our lives as we have known them in our country.” He informs his driver and continues. “We will head to the DMZ and then to Lebanon. We will not encounter any resistance I think.” He pauses. “You will find all the cigarettes you want now, I think,” Umar says with a smile.

  ***

  Mountain Pass, Jdaidit Yabws

  A flicker of light behind the group illuminates the area for a moment and made Sahila turns back to look through the valley. In the direction of Damascus, through the valleys, the sky looks like it is daytime. The light is so bright she is unable to comprehend the reason. Is it a bomb? Maybe it looks bigger in the dark and from here in the mountains so far away. The thought comes and goes. She is turning back to the trail when another light erupts across the horizon. Seeing it she steps back. The initial light is larger than she can understand. It reminds her of something. Yaqeena next to her grabs her hand and gasps.

  “Did they drop a nuclear bomb on us?” Yaqeena asks in fear. “Who would do such a thing in this day and age?”

  Sahila realizes she is right. That is what has been familiar. The cloud of smoke that can be seen in the light momentarily has a mushroom shape to it. It was a nuclear blast followed by its billowing smoke. The blast was been so high they can see it all the way through the network of valleys sixty kilometers away. Sahila feels like she has been punched in the stomach. There have been multiple lights upon the horizon. It is as if there was a brief light show and then it was finished, and the sky is dark again. She thinks of her parents and wonders if they are okay.

  Tarek wastes no time. The shock is breathtaking, but he knows things will only get worse as the blast make survivors pour through every escape route known and unknown. He grabs Sahila’s hand and pulls her toward the path.

  “We don’t have time to watch. We can cry about it later. We must go before any of that gets to us.” Tarek warns.

  Sahila stumbles as her arm is pulled in a direction away from her heart. She is dumbfounded at the sight she has just witnessed. She cannot imagine who would unleash such destruction upon so many people. She wonders if the Israelis have just decided to end the war and take matters into their own hands. She doesn’t think the Americans would do such a thing, but she would not put it past any of them. She cannot resolve the destruction she knows she has just witnessed with her heart. Yaqeena stumbles behind her tearfully as they trudge along the trail and up the mountain. They glance back on occasion to see a faint glow in the distance that is quickly fading.

  ***

  Mossad, Tel Aviv, Israel

  Captain Ben Haim is eating dinner. The day has been uneventful. There is more movement along the Syrian border and the DMZ but nothing worth staying at the office for. He decides to head home for dinner and relax. He has been working too much lately he realizes. He thinks he will be more effective if he rests and is reenergized. He also knows when he has the chance to go home, he should take it. He never knows when something might keep him at the office for a few days straight or longer.

  His wife is happy to see him. She knows his job is stressful. It is an important role, so she puts up with the long hours and interruptions, but she is happy to see him. She never does see him enough for her taste, so she is glad to see him walk through the door. For dinner, he opens a bottle of Golan Heights Cabernet and pours them both a glass. She brings out a plate full of his favorites and he smiles. He is biting into some falafel when his phone rings. He sees the number gives her an apologetic look and picks it up. He knows if they call when he has left, it must be important. He listens then sits the phone down. He stares into the distance, but his mind is already scrambling.

  “Is it okay?” His wife asks, knowing that the look meant something out of the ordinary has happened.

  “No, no, it’s not.” He replies. “Something awful has happened in Damascus. I have to go to the office.” He says while standing up. He takes the glass of wine and drinks it all. He wipes his mouth then walks over to his wife and leans over and kissed her.

  “I love you.” He declares intensely.

  “I love you too. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” She told him.

  “It will be for us, for now. But Damascus will never be the same.” He informs her. He turns and leaves, grateful for dinner and grateful for his wife. Those are both things that the people of Damascus will not say tonight.

  ***

  ASG, Jordan

  Major Westbrook is working out in the weight room when the shift leader from the intelligence group approaches him. The Major is bench pressing when the shift leader interrupts.

  “Sir, they lit up Damascus.” The Sergeant says with awe at his own words.

  “What?” The Major racks the weights and sits up. “What do you mean?” The Major demands as he wipes the sweat from his forehead.

  “Sir, they nuked them.” The shift leader clarified uneasy.

  The Major stands up to his full six-foot-three frame. “What do you mean they nuked them? Who?”

  “We’re not sure sir, you should come with me.” The shift leader offers meekly.

  The Major wipes his face with his workout towel as they leave the gym. He peppers the Sergeant on the way back to no avail. There have been nuclear level detonations in Damascus, but no one knows by who or why yet. When they arrive back at the command center a video is on the screen. The video is from a group that is claiming responsibility. The message is cryptic, but in light of the circumstances, it is abundantly clear what is meant.

  In his Army physical training shirt and shorts, the Major stands in front of the screen agitated. They have beat him. The Israeli was part of the problem, but the fact is, he has been beaten. He throws the workout towel across the room. He loses his composure. He curses and strikes the table with a closed hand. He looks around for something to hit but there isn’t anything to punch. He walks out of the room in a huff and lets out a growl as he slaps the door frame on the way out. He hates being beat and cannot stand the fact the enemy has outwitted him. They slipped past all his high-tech surveillance and pulled off the greatest terror attack in modern history. He knew it was coming but couldn’t stop it, he has failed.

  Chapter 28

  Lebanese Border, Masnaa, Syria

  The border guards are confused. Mashal, Zamir and their driver are among the first arrivals at the checkpoint after the detonations in Damascus. Mashal acts the part of a terrified citizen and affirms the guard’s initial reports of a nuclear event. The Syrian guards are confused and frightened when they can’t contact anyone in Damascus. After Mashal’s report, they let him cross to the Lebanon side without inspection. The Lebanese guards want to see identification but the panic that Mashal incites and the steady stream of people arriving behind them shortly overwhelms the guards. With some cash and good acting, the officer in charge allows them into the country without completing paperwork. They provided fake names for the record and are on their way as the flow of people keeps growing. Mashal smiles as they drive away from the gate. He can’t help himself; he is in Lebanon and his plan is unfolding right in front of him. The aftermath of the first phase is creating a humanitarian disaster that he is already benefiting
from. His plan is to use it to his advantage and ride the wave to launch the next part of his plan.

  The truck they had dispatched to Lebanon, full of weapons materials, immediately after they stole them has already crossed the border ahead of them, well ahead of the detonations. It is already waiting at the coast for them. Mashal has already sent another truck with important hardware components to ensure they will make the most impact. His men are already getting the materials onto the container they will load onto the ship for transport to Africa.

  They have a long journey ahead of them, but he is ready. Zamir is like a child full of excitement after they cross the border. He will hardly stop talking about the success of the devices but as the adrenaline from the success and crossing the border wear off, he falls asleep. They can hardly wake Zamir when they arrive at the safe house to rest for the night. They arrive in Souariri shortly after seven and meet some brothers to eat, rest and switch vehicles.

  Mashal is paranoid about staying in one spot for very long or using the same equipment long enough to be linked to it. He has seen how good the Americans and Israelis are at tracking and hunting their enemies and is strict about cutting ties to anything they might trace to him. He enjoyed the General and their talks and has hoped that he will give himself to Allah, but the General was clearly too concerned with the things of this world to become a true follower, so he had to be cut off as well. There are so many people that could be of use to the cause, but they are unable to commit completely so they have to be coerced into being useful. It creates a lot of extra effort, but it is worth it in the end. They will all serve the cause at some point.