Dawn of Hope- Exodus

by Dobrin Kostadinov

  While Hans was dealing with the purely statistical side of the matters, Ben decided to pay another visit to their mutual wealthy acquaintance. On April 14 the Major appeared at the door of his flat and knocked. He heard the door unlock and Radeberg’s butler showed up at the threshold.

  ‘Good afternoon, whom do you need?’ the man asked politely.

  ‘My name is Ben Robinson, I have an appointment with Konrad. Is he in?’ the Major asked.

  ‘Unfortunately Mr. Rageberg is out. He warned me about you and said he might be late, work-related matters, you see. You could wait for him if you like,’ the man explained.

  ‘I’ll wait for him, yes, thank you,’ the investigator replied.

  ‘Welcome,’ the man invited Robinson in and locked the door after him. The butler showed him in into the living-room so he could sit down and wait in comfort.

  Time raced with more and more ferocious speed, not waiting for anyone on its way to infinity. Seconds, minutes, hours ticked by while Ben waited and grew ever more aware that he was wasting his time sitting there and doing nothing. Maybe Radeberg had forgotten about their arrangement. The third hour flew by and Robinson was already chafed, but he heard the door open and Konrad walked into the room.

  ‘Hello, I’m sorry I come so much late. It’s a terrible thing outside.’

  ‘Hello, what happened, why are you so late?’ the investigator asked with visible indignation.

  ‘There was a demonstration in front of the building of one of my companies. Quite a lot of people had thronged to the place, chanting, and I quote, “Don’t feed your ego, feed us.” I barely managed to get out of there, they wouldn’t let me go. Can you imagine that–they’re holding me accountable for what I do and whom I do it with! I’m neither a politician, nor a head of state. I don’t know what more they want from me. They’re biting the hand that feeds them, I think that’s exactly what’s happening right now. I helped the military so much with money and resources from my companies and see what happens. It just can’t be, the way they’re harassing me,’ Konrad said, unleashing his anger as he was unbuttoning his coat.

  ‘Maybe they want more from you. Human greed is boundless, the more you have, the more you want to have. But we’re not talking about them getting rich here, but just about being fed,’ Ben uttered.

  ‘That’s probably true. But I still think people are ungrateful!,’ the shareholder replied.

  ‘Don’t be mad with them, they just want you to help them; still you’re one of the wealthiest people on the planet and if not you, who else would do it?’

  ‘I’ve helped enough, I’m not planning on doing more because there’s always someone who’s discontent,’ Konrad said and poured himself a drink. Ben did not add anything else on the matter because he knew Radeberg was in his right, moreover he doubted his opinion would be taken seriously. He waited for the German to sit on the sofa so he could change the subject.

  ‘I’m here again to talk about the case, but this time I have to tell you something as a friend. Do you want to hear it?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ the rich man said, surprised, taking a sip from his expensive Scotch– that gulp probably cost more than what a worker earned in a month.

  ‘Here is the problem. My investigations lead me unequivocally to you. And There is one more suspect, though–General Klaus Müller himself.’

  ‘But what are you saying? How can I be a suspect? About what exactly–about being robbed of my own property? Is that some kind of a joke? I don’t understand,’ Konrad spluttered, trying to feign shock and unawareness of the different versions, but the truth was that far more different than what Ben had originally pictured.

  ‘Yes, we’re talking precisely about the theft. Maybe you want to share out the insurance money, I don’t know, but there are many other leads that I’m still investigating and all of them link the two of you.’

  ‘What are they, tell me!’ he pressured the detective and beads of nervous sweat broke out on his forehead.

  ‘I can’t tell you. I only wanted to warn you that if you get charged with insurance fraud, you’ll automatically get convicted of the plane crash that took away the lives of more than eight thousand people and that won’t be any good for you no matter how much money you have.’ The words of the investigator staggered the shareholder. ‘Not to mention other things that also implicate you. Just a friendly advice–admit the truth if you’re guilty and we’ll be as benevolent as possible. If you’re not, I’ll ask you to excuse me for the inconvenience I’ve caused you, but I want you to know that I’ve never been wrong before.’ The Major sent his message with a rather grave look on the face. By then Konrad was already seeing red because, on the one hand, he was guilty, but, on the other, he was accused of something vastly different from what he had done. One way or another, directly or not, he was responsible for everything that was taking place no matter whether anyone knew about it or not.

  ‘This is certainly the first time you’re wrong, you’ll see,’ the rich man tried to object.

  ‘We’re about to see if that is the case,’ the Major threatened.

  ‘I think it’s time for you to go,’ he spurred the investigator, eyes closed, pressing to his mouth the glass full of ice cubes and gulping the Scotch in an attempt to help his raging passion cool, but it took him a tremendous effort. ‘You’d better leave, I’m more than a little agitated and I don’t want to get into a conflict precisely with you. Thank you for the friendly advice, but I’d like to tell you something as a friend, too. I’ve done bad, horrendous stuff, but I’d never do anything with such kind of outcome. I’m not to blame about the crash and you’ll see that sooner or later.’ The two men headed for the front door.

  Ben halted at the threshold. He turned around and patted his acquaintance condescendingly on the shoulder.

  ‘I wish that turns out to be true . . .’ he turned around and left without another word. Konrad closed the door and hurled the glass he held in his left hand on the floor. It broke into hundreds of shards onto the elegant floor of Brazilian wood. He had gone berserk not just because of the words he heard but also because he and his accomplice were innocent of the things they got accused of . . .

  The investigator drove off from the hotel and set off on a few-hours long trip to the hotel where Hans was staying and working tirelessly. When he arrived and entered into the room that Hans had hired he saw walls lined up with message boards covered with randomly pinned images, photos and drawings.

  ‘You’re old school, ah–you want to have it all right in front of your eyes instead of having to search for it on computers and tablets,’ the Major laughed and continued. ‘How are you, doing well?’

  ‘I’m good, thank you. Having everything spread onto the walls helps me concentrate, Leckerman highlighted.

  ‘How is your investigation going? Any progress?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Yes, I found a lead confirming that Konrad and Klaus are in cahoots. I didn’t find, though, anything that links them to the crash, but I stumbled upon something else and printed it out for you to see. Here,’ Hans briefed him and handed him a few sheets with data and scribbles, leading all to one single thing. That was the secret monopolization performed by Konrad’s firms and the artificial boosting of the prices of aerospace equipment. ‘Do you see the statistics?’ Interesting, right? Look at these reports, too, and things will start taking shape in your mind,’ he said and handed the Major another handful of sheets. He examined them painstakingly and noticed that after the market prices were raised, the air base run by Klaus changed its partnering firms on various grounds. One had to do with the need of more reliable quality of the manufactured materials and the other with the large-scale perspectives for fast development of the program for the purposes of which arose the need to work with larger contractors.

  ‘There’s something in here. I think Müller is dancing to Konrad’s tune,’ Ben stated definitively.

  ‘I agree with you. I think they’re devising schemes for misappropr
iating money, but the things may be running deeper and the crash may be part of a much more destructive endeavor. What are we going to do with what we have, do we have enough grounds for an arrest?’ his young partner asked.

  ‘Hardly, not to say it’s pointless and impossible. We don’t have enough evidence. We’ll wait and we’ll hit them when the time comes’ the Major implanted a touch of optimism. ‘This won’t break us, no matter the what . . .’

  A place far away from the two investigators, Tehran, had become the world’s extremism and militarism epicenter and now it was shaking even more violently. The newly built walls around the ghettos were reinforced by a 24-hour armed security. And not only in Iran, the worst part was that those fortifications were already being erected all over the world. The only people who were allowed through were those who worked in other zones or the emergencies with an immediate risk for the life. The discontent was drastically increasing with the attempts of the authorities to do further rezoning of the city. People thronged together and chanted “No to the World Berlin Wall!”–that was the name the concerned groups had given to the bulwarks. Little by little hundreds of thousands of protesters crowded the sentry posts and expressed their explicit unwillingness to have their otherwise wretched lives controlled. All these people in the large and developed cities like Berlin and London were fighting together for one essential thing–the struggle against the restriction of their freedom–one of the last and probably most valuable of all civil rights. That brought about the next wave of riots and strife which this time took the form of unabated robberies and destruction of private property. The law enforcement managed the situation with great difficulty, but the question was for how long? Violence and bitterness invaded furiously as though they were human incarnations. How long was the fragile peace going to last? When was everything going to reach its boiling point . . .

  In the entire Arabian world and in some of the North and South American countries things were even worse than the media presented to the rest of the world. Every day the ghetto walls there were attacked by cars full of explosives or by gunshots to the checkpoints. The situation was complicated and the inhumane actions that had taken place over the previous few days took away the lives of hundreds of civilians. Most tension was accumulated around the walls in the cities of Syria, Iraq, Egypt, Brazil and Mexico. The Third world countries were most active in that respect. But none of these things were talked about, nor was any panic created in North Tehran. At least for now. Those parts were flourishing, they were a one-of-a-kind cultural center.

  In the summer garden of one of the Iranian capital’s fancy restaurants, out in the open air, Alice and Harry were having lunch. The lovebirds were again enjoying their mutual company while they still had time and could afford peace and quiet. Over the previous two months they had been doing everything together. Their relationship was strong and had a clear purpose, their long conversations enhanced the effect of their love. Whether they were at a café, restaurant or a club they would not stop showing each other their love. Maybe they knew that very soon they would no longer have the time to do that. Most of those so purely human relations were witnessed by a bystander, Milev, who would not let the two lovers out of his sight even for a brief moment. He followed them closely, trying to remain unnoticed, so that he did not bother them with his presence. When they were out, he observed them watchfully. He had taken especially seriously the task Omar entrusted him with because he himself knew that the two young ones had to be protected. Despite the sleeplessness that tormented the ex-military, he saw everything that happened to them. Every threat that could arise around them, he was ready to act upon. He usually stood at 100-130 feet away from them so that they did not see him by chance; to avoid that, he would normally sit in one of the neighboring restaurants.

  Apart from the dangers, Milev saw something very pure and sincere, too. Yet another moments of shared love between Alice and Harry. Each hug, kiss or caress on the face, every compliment was felt and burst into the air around like a star dust waiting to fly up into the sky. Happiness was floating in the air, happiness everyone could feel. “How beautiful!” the Balkan thought as he watched them. Doubts and disappointment having to do with everything that had happened over the previous few years crossed his mind. But a tiny ray of light appeared exactly at the point he was watching. Maybe not everything is in vain. Maybe the answer will come in time, Milev thought as he observed them. And the more he watched the two lovers, the more he realized that the only cure for that would be love.

  Love for humans, love for nature, perhaps that’s all we need to become better people. That’s why it’s worth both living and dying for it. That was one of his many conclusions. The hope for a better future was what great people held on to, great people who decided to take action instead of standing impartially on the sidelines. Probably they were the ones to bring back to life both the material and the spiritual development of the human race . . .

  One of those people who for better or worse decided to act from his heart was enjoying the last days of his leave. On his last day before returning to work, early in the morning before he had send off his children to school, Omar caught on a TV reporting about a terrorist who had tried to get into a school and claim innocent lives. Fortunately, the man who was armed with a plastic explosive and a machine gun was disarmed. That piece of news reminded him of something–just like the time for taking the decisive action was drawing nearer, so were the risk and the fear for the lives of his family and for his own were growing. There was only one thing he could do for the time being.

  ‘Kids, you’re not going to school today,’ the officer interfered out of the blue and sounded like he was giving orders to his inferiors. At that time his wife was preparing the breakfast and the little ones were sitting by their father, watching TV in the dining-room. She was a bit surprised by her husband’s decision, but she was not blind either. The children, on the other hand, thought that their father was joking and did not pay due attention to his words. ‘You don’t seem happy, you always say you don’t like it in school?’ Omar asked.

  The nippers exchanged a look, not understanding what their father had meant. Their mother intervened.

  ‘Why shouldn’t they go to school, is it that dangerous?’ Kalila piped up and the little ones listened, but couldn’t fathom what was happening.

  ‘Yes, even more than you think. Kids, from today onward you’ll be taking home classes. I will call the principal and tell him you’re leaving school to start an individual studies program with a private tutor. I think it will be even better for you that way, away from the regular school,’ the General explained. They did not know what to say and despite the fact they were going to be like prisoners under house arrest they were quite happy at the news.

  ‘You’ll take a few days of rest until I find you a tutor who can come and teach you,’ Omar continued and after he finished, Kalila pulled him aside.

  ‘Are you sure we can afford it?’ his dark-haired wife asked.

  ‘Yes, absolutely, but even if we couldn’t, I still wouldn’t let them go. Something horrifying is on the horizon, from now on you have to do as I say or else we won’t be able to keep our family alive and intact,’ he whispered in her ear, so that the little ones would not hear. Kalila got sad, but she knew that the situation was pretty much the same everywhere, so she could not complain or express an opinion different than her husband’s. She believed her husband would deal with everything irreproachably and eventually they will all end up living happily together . . .

  The children went in the other room to do something their mother gave them to keep them busy with while Omar went out to run some errands. The first one was to notify the principal that the children were leaving school and to find them tutors. He managed to arrange the matters for a few hours and once everything was settled, he felt at ease, at least more than before. The next day he went back to work and managed to get used to the working environment in just a few hours. In the first few hou
rs at the office he received a few times satellite images from his subordinates which revealed the growing sensitivity of the infrared sensors in an abandoned settlement. That was the result of the concentration of people and equipment in Al Nadir. But how was he going to cover up the situation and keep everyone’s attention focused elsewhere? After he saw everything was documented, he wrote a report about the place, explaining to the Ministry of Defense about some drills that he had personally organized with the sponsorship of the UN. There was no escaping now that everything was put down on paper. If they caught him lying or if something gave away what he was actually doing there, he was facing not only prison but probably even a death sentence . . .

  On May 8 the officer received a message from Phillip asking him for a meeting. He quickly slipped out of his office and took a drive to the military base he owned off the record. He arrived at the already familiar site. He was recognized by the guards at the Al Nadir who escorted him, following his slow step, to the headquarters where the Croatian expected him. He threw a look around the place as he was walking. The fast-paced and lively environment made him think. A few months back that same base was an abandoned zone where almost no one went and now it was equipped with the infrastructure, weaponry and people it needed to change the world. What a decisive factor money was, Omar was thinking, as he kept on pacing towards the headquarters, observing the few thousand people working hard to make all that possible.