by Jack Strain
Sarin is a colorless and odorless liquid that can bring on death in as little as five minutes after direct contact or inhalation of even a single droplet. Like other nerve agents, sarin immediately attacks the nervous system causing muscles and bodily secretions to rapidly react resulting in uncontrolled convulsions. The victim’s nose begins to run, the eyes dry, then vomiting, followed quickly by the evacuation of your bowels and bladder, and then ends violently with asphyxiation, as the victim literally drowns in their own bodily fluids.
It is a horrific way to die, and it was now heading to a gathering of more than fifteen hundred people packed into a tight space of roughly 700 feet by 500 feet with four laborious checkpoints at each corner.
Crouched behind a series of HVAC pump stations and exhaust fans, the soldiers of Allah’s Avengers looked intently at their tablets and watched the display screen. More comfortable with an assault rifle in his hands, Bahadur relied on the former university student to guide the final attack. Bahadur asked, “Sayid, how much longer?”
The young man responsible for leading Bahadur and his fighters to a secret Syrian army experimental chemical weapons testing facility on the outskirts of a small desert town called Shabba was now sweating profusely through his hospital scrubs. He steadfastly watched as the three drones flew at anywhere from fifty to a hundred feet in the air and carefully followed the route so painstakingly selected. Sayid walked every inch of all three approaches these past ten days to assure his precious cargo had the best chance to evade all potential defensive measures and bring Allah’s divine justice to the infidels.
“We are nearly there my brother, one more minute or so, Allah willing.”
The anxious former Quds Force commander added, “Have the Jews reacted yet?”
“Please brother, I must concentrate. We are almost there.”
More than eighty or so of the miniature quadcopters had reached the skies above the ceremony and were flying in crazy patterns high and low. Finally, permission was given to all Israeli air defense batteries and security forces to open fire. The two Iron Beam laser batteries fired first, and sudden flashes in the skies could be seen by the naked eye as four mini-drones were struck moments later, sending their shattered remains tumbling through the air.
Rapid-firing auto-cannons came next sending 20 mm and 40 mm shells streaming into the air intending to create blankets of fire to prevent the airborne threat from diving down to the ground and attacking the participants. Next, a hail of small arms fire was unleashed in all directions as the swirling mass of drones continued to fly unperturbed by the chaos below.
All eyes were now drawn to the skies as screams of fear and terror swept through the crowd of world dignitaries. The sound of gunfire and shrieks was punctuated by loud and terse commands as security personnel from a dozen nations reacted instantly to the threat and ascended upon the dais to secure their charges and attempt to get them to safety. A sudden massive movement to all four corners of the square was impeded by tables and chairs and people falling. Some were trampled as panic took hold.
The world’s news media had covered every single square inch of the square with both fixed and hand-held cameras and the world watched in disbelief as close-ups and wide-angled shots caught all-too-familiar scenes of throngs of terrified people racing for their lives. One fixed camera tasked with tracking every movement of Liliana Wolfe caught the first daughter as she looked up into the skies along with everyone else, then filmed her unheard shouts into the air and look of pure unbridled fear.
Her husband Jason went to grab her, but two security agents swept past so suddenly they slammed into him, knocking him into his wife, and they both tumbled over the edge of the dais to the ground four feet below. The well-orchestrated opening ceremony was now being taken over by panic as the crowd began to surge towards the four security checkpoints at each corner of the square.
Control Room, CNN Central Headquarters
Stephanie Brewer, the veteran CNN executive producer, yelled out, “Holy shit! What in the hell is going on there?”
Her trusted number two, Andy Garvey was staring in disbelief at the array of monitors in front of the production team, shaking his head, “So far no explosions on the ground. All I can see is all those people running around like crazy trying to get the hell out of Dodge.”
From the other side of the room, an excited voice rang out, “Check out the feeds on camera 17 outside the security checkpoint on the southwest corner of the complex. Those Israeli guns are shooting up directly into the sky. Look at that tracer fire, Jesus Christ looks like the whole sky is covered by those red tracers.”
Quickly glancing at the feed, Stephanie immediately decided, “Put up three split screens, I want to keep coverage on Liliana, so don’t stop that feed no matter what. Add camera 17 and pull up camera 5 with the wide coverage shot.”
Even for a group of experienced professionals, many of whom had done duty in a variety of the world’s hotspots, they felt for those poor people caught on the screen running from God knows what. Then it happened . . . a massive, ear-splitting KABOOM! followed by a flash of white light. The feed on camera 17 went dark.
Garvey yelled out, “Goddamnit what just happened? Somebody tell me what just happened!”
Known for having ice-water in her veins, Stephanie continued to bark out commands, “Drop the feed on 17. What does camera 5 look like? I see smoke and fire in that southwest corner and are those bodies - yes, I see bodies. Oh, my God, this is bad. Look, the crowd is rushing back into the square. Get Phil’s camera crew on it and get his live feed up and running pronto. Tell him to be careful. What’s the status on the Liliana feed?”
“Still getting good shots, looks like Secret Service agents are surrounding her and her husband. Secretary of State Gittleson was in the frame momentarily, but then I lost him.”
“Okay but stay on her. Work the phones people, find out what’s going on there, our viewers need to know what just happened.”
Wolfe Villa Hotel
Thirty seconds ago, President Wolfe’s family and friends were positively beaming as images of Liliana graced the screen. Everything was just perfect. All that changed as a mix of audible gasps, pained groans, shouts of shock and disbelief rang out as they watched the horrifying scene play out in real-time. Desperate for information, they rapidly switched from channel to channel, but the various news anchors seemed to have no idea what was happening and were watching the events unfold just as their viewers were doing.
Then everyone saw Liliana and Jason fall off the dais. Almost in unison, the gathering seemed to cry out in anguish, a growing cacophony of sobs could be heard while others stared grim-faced. President Wolfe felt almost paralyzed like this was some cruel nightmare that couldn’t possibly be happening.
No . . . No, not my Liliana, not my little girl.
Suddenly overcome with emotion, Wolfe came to his feet and shouted at the TV screen, “SOMEONE DO SOMETHING! GET HER THE HELL OUT OF THERE!”
Almost as if on cue, Wolfe’s Presidential Secret Service detail burst into the room, guns drawn and rapidly spread out to secure the Penthouse suite. Agent Darnell Sanders, the head of Wolfe’s detail, a tall, imposing African-American from the tough streets of North Philly, announced with a booming and authoritative voice, “Mr. President, I want everyone to prepare to move out in an orderly fashion. We do not believe that you are in any danger here, but we are moving you and the first family to a more secure location. Be ready to move out in five.”
“Like hell, I will. I’m not going anywhere until I know Liliana and Jason are safe. Now you get on the phone with your people back in D.C. right this goddamn minute and find out what our people are saying is happening over there. Until then, I’m staying put and watching this television. Clear?”
Agent Sanders sighed deeply, knowing that Wolfe was not going to change his mind. If this were an actual attack on his person then he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter, so he quickly replied, “Yes, Mr. President. I
will get the latest update and then brief you the second that I know what’s happening. Sir, your daughter’s detail is as good as they come. Look on the screen; they have your daughter and son-in-law completely surrounded and trying to find some cover.”
The president never turned away from the screen and just nodded his head. Without even realizing it, President Wolfe clasped his hands together as if in prayer and stared intently at the screen. Dear Lord, please save her. I swear, I’ll do anything. Just . . . bring her home.
Without saying another word, Marija and his three kids surrounded him and held one another tight, fighting back the tears, and watched along with a billion other people as the unthinkable was playing itself out before them.
Chapter Five
Old City, Jerusalem
To describe the scene as pure chaos would be the ultimate of understatements, but the one man charged with overall responsibility for the security of the event, the short, barrel-chested Major General Mordechai Harel was trying desperately to bring order to the nightmare scene playing out for the world to view. A former commando and Regular Army commander, Harel stormed out of the security command center to see for himself and was greeted with a near-deafening mix of automatic gunfire, screams, sirens, and men in uniform shouting orders.
Harel’s deputy came racing out of the mobile command center and yelled over the noise, “General, another suicide bomber just blew up the security zone at the northeast entrance. Bastards must have mixed in with all the chaos. We have casualties all over the place.”
Harel was about to answer when his head was drawn above as two more mini-drones zoomed overhead, “What in the hell are those things?”
His deputy continued shouting, “Sir, we have multiple reports from our people that these mini-copters or whatever the hell you want to call them are not, repeat not, armed with high-explosives or anything of any kind. There are just so many of them that we have no other choice but to keep shooting them down.”
His mind was racing a mile a minute. Why so many drones if they never intended to drop them into the crowd? Just to set up these suicide bombings? No; can’t be. Then what the hell are these bastards playing at? They already embarrassed the Israeli Government, killed and maimed, but most of the dignitaries are still trapped inside. Oh, my God! That’s it! Something else is coming, something bigger.
Immediately grabbing his communication headset, he keyed the mic to broadcast on all channels and said, “This is Major General Harel. All security personnel still in the square, repeat, all security personnel remaining in the square: get your people to some type of cover, any type of cover. An attack is imminent, repeat an incoming attack of unknown origin is imminent.”
Grabbing his deputy and pulling him close so he can hear over the din of battle, Harel said, “Get a hold of the High Command and give the code sign, Maccabee One Zero, repeat Maccabee One Zero. Get moving; I’m heading inside the square. Now move!”
Maccabee One Zero was the code in the Israeli Defense Forces that would take the already high state of alert for IDF forces to a war footing. Within ten minutes, the Israeli Air Force would begin launching aircraft armed with both offensive and defensive weapons, the Navy would begin surging ships, and all Army commands would surge towards frontline positions with fire on sight authorization. Something was coming that threatened the people of Israel, and the IDF stood ready to defend or to avenge.
Jahalin Hospital Rooftop
From their vantage point barely three miles away from the sacred ground surrounding the Dome of the Rock, two of Allah’s Avengers were trying to execute the final stages of the most dastardly and complex terror attack in history. Fighter jets roared overhead, Israeli helicopters surged over rooftops surrounding the Old City and adjacent towns in the West Bank, but both Bahadur and Sayid remained under cover. Bahadur kept sneaking peeks to watch the violent display of thousands of red and gold tracers light up the late afternoon sky while Sayid remained glued to his tablets tracking the three UAVs filled with sarin.
Each UAV was following the pre-programmed path towards the target area. All three were making separate approaches at different heights and following different zig-zag flight patterns. Sayid stood ready, however, to take over manual control if the need arose. Right now, UAV 2 was beginning its flight over the Mount of Olives Jerusalem Cemetery and was about to rise to its target height of three hundred feet when an alert Israeli soldier saw the large UAV approaching and reacted without hesitation.
Turning his 5.56 mm squad automatic machine gun toward the target, he opened fire and was quickly joined by six more of his squad mates who unleashed a barrage of gunfire. The UAV was making radical moves left to right when a bullet struck one of the rotors causing it to tumble downwards. The soldiers continued shooting and a round punctured the holding tank causing a small stream of sarin to leak out until it crashed onto an open hillside across the street from the El-Marwani Mosque, spilling its contents all over the mostly barren ground.
Three hundred feet away, an M93A1P1 Fox NBC (nuclear, biological, & chemical) Detection and Reconnaissance Vehicle was driving along Derech HaShiloah street, and suddenly its M22 automatic chemical detector/alarm system came alive with positive readings of an airborne chemical agent. The armored vehicle’s over-pressure filtration system initiated within seconds to protect the crew and automatically sent out a system-wide IDF Flash traffic message via radio and digital feeds warning all Israeli commands of the exact GPS location of a confirmed chemical agent and issued recommendations to begin full counter-measures.
By now, the entire Israeli military and security apparatus was completely inundated with a stream of communication relating to the state of emergency, but this Flash traffic NBC alert was unlike any other. The message “confirmed airborne chemical agent” struck fear in every man and woman who heard those words repeated over and over again - every fifteen seconds - until the system confirmed acknowledgment.
Major General Harel had reached the inside of the square and was in the process of channeling the panic-stricken throngs of people towards the two remaining security gates when he heard the Flash NBC message on his headset.
Quickly scanning the skies, Harel remembered a long since discarded intel report on the threat of liquid-dispensing drones and thought. That’s it! The bastards are using chemicals. All these mini-drones and children’s toys were a decoy.
Reacting instantly, Harel keyed his mic and clicked the air defense channel and said, “Ignore all targets over three hundred feet. Repeat, shift all fire to command all approaches into the Temple One area of operations. Repeat, ignore all targets on your threat board above three hundred feet.”
UAV 1 was just now cresting over the El-Ghazali Square near the NE security zone at about one hundred and fifty feet in the air when it was struck by multiple rounds of heavy machine gun fire. It tumbled to the ground spilling the concentrated liquid sarin in a wide swath below until the holding tank crashed to the ground. The impact sent the remaining deadly payload into a collection of six mobile trailers packed with international news media’s support personnel and technicians.
A group of seven BBC employees was looking up into the sky wondering if the danger had passed when suddenly one woman let out a loud gurgling noise and grabbed her throat. Seconds later, her fellow workers collapsed to the ground and began spewing vomit and bile. Their screams brought others immediately to their sides, but moments later they, too were now desperately fighting for their own lives as their muscles went into uncontrollable spasms.
An experienced BBC camera operator was about to rush out to help but saw what was happening and immediately slammed the door shut to the trailer and frantically tried to close the two windows. He kept screaming, “Chemicals, it’s bloody chemicals! Close the windows and grab your respirators!”
He and several others in the trailer were now desperately searching through unopened boxes trying to find their BBC survival kits equipped with respirators. A young man at the far side o
f the trailer exclaimed out in victory after finding one and tried putting it on and gave the thumbs up when he got it secured. Then his eyes went wide, and panic swept over him as his right shoulder started to spasm and then he quickly doubled over and vomited into the respirator, unable to remove it in time.
It was too late. The old trailers had been moved from one location to another over the years and had far too many openings and cracks. Enough droplets seeped into the trailer to claim seven more victims.
From the hospital rooftop, Sayid cried out, “Nooooo…You fucking Jewish dogs!” in frustration as the second UAV was shot down before delivering its deadly payload.
Desperate to know what was happening, Bahadur said, “What? Brother, what’s going on?”
Refusing to break concentration, Sayid grabbed the third UAV’s remote control, flipped it to manual control and kept repeating over and over, “Allah Akbar! Allah Akbar! Allah Akbar!”
Pressing the throttle control forward, he watched his tablet as he gripped the controller with his sweating hands and dropped the UAV down to about twenty-five feet and weaved left and right, passing above the Chapel of the Ascension, then skimmed over the Gethsemane Olive Gardens. Alert Israeli and Palestinian Authority security forces were firing blindly into the sky, narrowly missing the UAV, but Sayid curved it towards the left near Absalom’s Tomb. With the plaza nearly in view, he activated the nozzle and saw the indicator turn green.
Filled with elation and tension, Sayid roared at the top of his lungs, “ALLAH AKBAR!” and guided the UAV as it crested the walled structure and rose to a height of two hundred feet and activated all four nozzles, releasing a wide-angled mist of one of the world’s most deadly weapons of mass destruction directly into the packed square below.
