by Conrad Jones
Tank launched his huge bald head as hard as he could into Yasser`s jaw. The crushing blow cracked the lower part of his jaw, almost wrenching the muscles from the side of his face. The one armed man was flung backward by the force of the vicious head butt, dropping his concrete weapon as he fell.
Tank turned on his heels and drove his head backward and upward simultaneously. He caught one of his captors beneath the lower jaw. The man`s teeth were smashed together by the blow, cracking and splintering into fragments. He screamed and pulled out a long thin blade from beneath his robe, waving it in front of Tank. There was a whooshing sound as the man`s head exploded, destroyed by a 7.68 millimetre sniper`s bullet. Before the man had hit the ground Tank had the blade between his wrists, in the space that he had stretched, and a second later he was free.
Two Arabs fell close by Tank, victims of the Task Force sharpshooter, but a third was closing in and pulling the Glock nine-millimetre from his robe. Tank bent down and scooped up a piece of marble headstone. He launched it at the oncoming man, striking him in the forehead. The heavy stone chunk knocked the man from his feet, spilling Tank`s gun as he fell. Tank dropped onto the gun in a flash. He jumped across the stone and landed on the man`s throat knees first, shattering his larynx and crushing the windpipe. The man gurgled as a fountain of blood erupted from his mouth.
Yasser was still on his back, stunned by the head butt, and that left two remaining bandits to deal with. One of them was kneeling inside the crypt, hiding from the invisible sniper that had killed his colleagues. The sight of his friends head exploding was enough to dampen his enthusiasm for a fight. The other was taking cover from the sniper behind a headstone about twenty yards away from Tank. He was kneeling down and peering around the stone in the direction of the city, facing away from Tank.
Tank switched the safety off the Glock and fired three bullets into the bandit behind the headstone. The three nine-millimetre bullets ripped into his back, punching ragged holes the size of walnuts in the flesh. His chest burst open like a scene from `Alien` as the bullets punched massive exit wounds. The rib cage was forced open by the devastating power of the hollow rounds.
Tank turned quickly and fired three more shots into the man in the crypt. He took them in the neck and shoulder area. Arterial spray splattered the walls of the mausoleum, as a ragged gash was ripped across the jugular vein. The man twitched violently as he lay bleeding on the marble. The contrast of white marble and a dark red blood was startling. Tank stood over him and fired two more rounds into his head. The twitching stopped immediately. Yasser Ahmed groaned on the floor. His mouth was hanging open awkwardly and an egg-sized lump had swelled from the shattered jawbone.
Tank wiped blood from his nose and mouth. His lips were three times the size of normal, and blood was running freely from both nostrils. He made an okay signal toward the city walls, knowing that his men would be watching him from their position. Tank spat blood on the grass. The gunfire would have attracted attention from the crowds above. He stepped inside the marble mausoleum and looked around. He saw what he was looking for. Tank had to make a decision quickly because there wouldn’t be much time. There was one more thing to do. Tank reached outside the crypt with a big hand and grabbed Yasser`s unconscious body by the foot. He dragged him out of the sunshine into the marble shrine.
At the back of the crypt was a gaping black hole in the floor. Obviously, it was once the resting place of very rich Jew, but it was now desecrated. Yasser weighed less than nine stones, and it was like carrying a ragdoll to Tank. The terrorist leader opened his eyes. His piercing shark like eyes suddenly became aware that he was in a deadly predicament. He lurched forward to escape Tank`s grip. Tank straightened his right hand, and drove it in a stabbing motion into Yasser`s throat. The terrorist grasped at his injured windpipe gasping for his breath. Tank bundled him into the empty grave. Yasser turned onto his back and glared into Tank`s eyes. Tank smiled at him. He coughed blood and phlegm from his broken lips and spat it at Yasser, hitting him below the eye. Tank saw a flicker of fear flash across the terrorist`s face and it felt good. He leaned over the grave and gripped the edge of the huge marble slab, which had once covered its dead Jewish occupant. Tank heaved and the slab squealed as it moved toward the hole.
Yasser realised what Tank intended and he tried to sit up. Tank punched him hard in the face, breaking his nose. Yasser closed his eyes as the crushing blow stunned him. He shook his head trying to clear his senses. As he opened his eyes, he could only watch as Tank dragged the giant slab the last few inches into place over the tomb. He cried out, a scream from the bottom of his Muslim soul. This was his reward for all his lifetime`s work. He was to spend eternity in a Jewish grave, surrounded by the remains of a million Jewish souls.
His evil soul would be in torment for eternity.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Liverpool-twelve months later
Tank walked into the meeting room in the underground bunker. Civil unrest had reached a new peak across the Middle East and the Western world, following the Jerusalem plot. Chen and his team had successfully helped the Israelis to disable the dirty bomb beneath the Temple Mount. There was a huge media circus watching and transmitting pictures across the globe as the device was carried out by men in ugly radioactive protection suits.
The incident left America with a diplomatic trump card. They turned their war on terror directly on the Palestinian, Israeli conflict. American forces were legitimately stationed on Israeli soil, airplanes, troops and missiles. Iran, Syria and the other Arab regimes could only watch in dismay as their Jewish neighbour became invincible.
In the West, right wing extremist groups across the Christian world were taking things into their own hands; religious vigilantes were striking at rival ethnic minorities.
Major Stanley Timms walked into the room. He was walking a little more stiffly than he used to, but he had made a remarkable recovery. Compared to the fate that befell some of his counterparts, he had been lucky.
Grace Farrington walked in to the bunker with Chen and the fat controller. They were laughing about something they were discussing before they entered the room. Tank caught her eye and that magnetism that they had always had sparked through his mind. She had been to death`s door and back but her life force had brought her through. It glowed all around her like an aura. There was a mischievous gleam in her eyes that he loved.
There was serious stuff to discuss. Members of white extremist groups had been caught by uniformed police divisions, trying to blow up a mosque, using military grade explosives. It was going to need the Terrorist Task Force to investigate how widespread their plans were and how much military hardware they had acquired, but then that`s another story.
