Direct hits were confirmed.
The targeting of this site was in response to the rockets fired at Israel.
The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) will not tolerate any attempt to harm Israeli civilians, and will operate against anyone who uses terror against the State of Israel. We urge the newly created Palestinian government to act swiftly against the insurgents who strive to break the hard-won peace between our two peoples.
Additionally, the IDF accepts no responsibility for, or has any explanation of, the electrical phenomenon which occurred at the target site directly after the IAF strike.
***
SAMUEL had opened the goat pens and quickly succeeded in driving most of his flock away from the flames and into the open scrub. A succession of sharp kicks dispersed the few stragglers that huddled around him for comfort. He looked to the south barn, the smoke was still intense but the fires were beginning to wane. He could hear the cries of the animals trapped inside, surely he still had enough time to free them. Samuel doused his blanket in a water trough to provide a small measure of protection from the flames and wrapping his makeshift cloak tightly around himself he charged to his destruction.
High above, the two IAF F-16s responding to the rocket attack were preparing to strike. These wrathful rebukes would come in the form of a BLU-109/B bunker buster slung to the underbelly of each fighter. The BLU-109/B was specifically designed to defeat an enemy’s most critical and hardened targets. Two hundred and forty kilograms of high explosives contained in a hardened steel shell casing one inch thick. The casing could penetrate up to six feet of reinforced concrete before the delayed action fuse detonated the high explosive. The BLU-109/B typically rode a laser beam to its target but in this instance the GPS coordinates supplied by the Iron Dome were more than sufficient.
The F-16 pilots radioed back to base to confirm the target coordinates. Once confirmed they requested and promptly received authorisation to engage. In unison they banked their craft and commenced their attack run, lining up their targeting vectors and unleashing death from 5,000 feet. The two BLU-109/Bs fell through the sky like silent angels, sliding breathlessly into the south barn.
The blast of a great trumpet enveloped Samuel: A single destructive note rapidly increasing in volume and intensity, drowning out the searing pain, his love and ultimately his very existence. He felt himself being lifted high into the clouds and his makeshift cloak was covered in blood.
***
Timeline: The Pestilence minus 15 days. Information source: BBC World News live broadcast.
Hugh Feades in the BBC World News studios in London: The peace between Israel and the new Palestinian nation is only hours old but already militants have made a concerted attempt to wreck it. We have reports of a sustained rocket attack on Israel’s capital Jerusalem. We are going live to Bill Irons, our Middle East correspondent in Jerusalem.
Bill Irons: Thanks Hugh. As you can see behind me, the city of Jerusalem sleeps peacefully tonight under the shelter of the Iron Dome. But it’s an uneasy sleep. As in the past hour we have had reports of multiple interceptions of rockets launched from within Palestine. Our unofficial source within the IDF stated that none of the rockets reached their intended target. All were intercepted and destroyed. Our source also states that a retaliatory strike on the weapons’ manufacturing and launch facility is imminent. Due to the lateness of the hour, we have as yet had no comment from the Palestinian government.
Hugh Feades: Thanks Bill, we have in the studio tonight Simon Hawkness a politics professor from the Middle Eastern Institute and an expert on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Simon Hawkness: Good evening Hugh, evening Bill.
Hugh Feades: Simon, how do you think this recent attack will be seen in the context of the wider peace agreement?
Simon Hawkness: Difficult to say Hugh, at this juncture, we don’t know who is responsible and as yet we have had no comment from the Palestinian government. I hate to speculate in the absence of hard data, but I believe that these attacks were launched by Palestinian militants looking to provoke both sides back into war. The Palestinian government has pledged to wipe out these groups and I think this is a wake-up call for the Palestinian government to make good on its rhetoric and control these terrorists. Also, we need to be cautious; these attacks may have the hallmarks of a militant strike. How can we be sure that there is no Palestinian government complicity in this?
Bill Irons: Simon, your point of view is thought-provoking but given the recent peace agreement any Palestinian government complicity would surprise me. You only have to look to the Palestinian government’s recent ferocious action against militants in Gaza to—
Hugh Feades: Bill, sorry to interrupt you but what’s that behind you? I think you’d better get inside, looks like an enormous storm coming.
Bill Irons: Jesus, what is that?
Hugh Feades: Lightning?
Bill Irons: Can’t be. This is remarkable. I have never seen anything like this. It looks like a continuous stream of electricity burning across the sky. It’s massive, wow, it’s so bright, it’s lighting up Jerusalem, literally turning night to day. What is this?
Simon Hawkness: You sure it’s not a storm?
Hugh Feades: Can’t be.
Bill Irons: No way. This is incredible. I can’t hear any thunder or feel any rain. Lightning flashes to the ground out of thunder clouds, it does not run in a continuous stream across the sky on a cloudless night. This is… incredible, are you getting this on tape?
Hugh Feades: Can you see a source? Could it be man-made?
Bill Irons: This is enormous. It can’t be man-made. It’s miles above me, but I can feel the heat and the static electricity all around. The hairs on my arms are standing. I can’t explain it. Even though the lightning or electricity fans out across the sky, to me it appears distinctly like it’s moving east to west. Okay, I see more people now. Jerusalem’s waking up. I can see people coming out of their houses, standing on rooftops, on balconies or just standing in the street in awe. Cars are stopping in the middle of the road; it’s as bright as midday here, but it’s 2 a.m.
Hugh Feades: We are now getting reports of this phenomenon from other cities. Our reporters in Gaza, Limassol and Athens are all reporting mysterious electricity rolling through the sky. Social media is erupting. Okay, now we have Rome, Madrid and Paris reporting in. It is definitely spreading globally. Can we get a camera on the roof here? Okay, great. We are now going live to our rooftop camera in London. Wow, it’s here; unbelievable.
Simon Hawkness: Any reports east of Jerusalem? From your correspondents in Amman, Riyadh or Baghdad?
Hugh Feades: Anything? Wake people up. Okay, got it; nothing in the sky over Baghdad. So Baghdad is what, 500, okay 547 miles from Jerusalem, Athens is further away, 770 miles. So if we can see it in Athens and even now London, then we should have seen this in Baghdad long before now. We can only conclude that the phenomenon is indeed moving east to west.
Simon Hawkness: You’re right, Hugh, east to west but it also means that the source must be east of Jerusalem.
Hugh Feades: Bill, any signs that the phenomenon is diminishing back where you are in Jerusalem?
Bill Irons: No Hugh, as you can see behind me it’s still in the sky. I don’t—
Hugh Feades: Hold on Bill, we have a clip. It has just been posted onto social media. We will get it on your screens in a moment. The clip purports to show the source of the phenomenon. I understand it’s a video from a cell phone taken from a small Palestinian village called Haran which is just east of Jerusalem. It shows that the source of the lightning is indeed land based. The video shows electricity shooting skywards and then westwards from a small farm just outside the village. Interestingly, we believe that the farm, though I must stress this has not been substantiated, was the target for the IAF airstrike earlier this evening. Rolling the video now…
***
Chapter 2
“YOU should be dead. I saw the bombs hit,
I felt the force of them shaking the very ground I was standing on. I know you wanted me to be safe, but I had to come back for you. I am so glad I did.” Samuel lay inert on the hospital bed. His condition had not changed since Mariam dragged him unconscious into her red Skoda a few hours ago. Mariam flagged on an old armchair posted by his bed. The realisation that the sun would rise in a few hours prompted a further wave of weariness to sweep over her. Her mind, however, remained active, her thoughts spooling through the events of the last twelve hours. The wonderful afternoon she had spent with Samuel, she luxuriated in the openness and simplicity of his love for her. It felt like old times, from before she left when everything was infinitely less complex. She relived the terror of the night bombardment and the overwhelming relief of finding Samuel miraculously alive in the ruined carcass of his home. Despite her fatigue, she was too overwrought to sleep. She picked up the remote and switched on the television that hung in the corner of the empty ward. Samuel slept on.
BBC World News recycled endless clips of what they were now calling the Electrical Phenomenon rolling above the various cities of the world. There was one particularly beautiful sequence where the lightning grew to fill the big sky above the Great Plains. The news anchor Hugh Feades had been broadcasting all night and was beginning to look a little crumpled. The BBC showed a graphic of the planet plotting the arc of longitude across which the phenomenon had been visible. It stretched from Jerusalem to Vancouver. In total the lightning had raged for thirty-three glorious minutes and had been witnessed, if not live, then through television or the Internet by the majority of humanity.
The BBC was interspacing the clips of the phenomenon with expert discussions. Mariam watched a wide ranging panel of geologists, military experts as well as an assortment of priests, imams and rabbis who all struggled to make sense of the phenomenon.
An omnipresent part of the news cycle were the various cell phone videos taken from Haran. They were the only videos showing the lightning travelling from earth to sky. Nobody in Haran had approached the farm so these videos, numerous as they were, lacked the detail that Mariam had seen first-hand. Mariam nudged the sound higher when she saw a “breaking news” banner flash across the screen. Hugh Feades was excitedly telling viewers that the BBC had exclusively obtained as yet unreleased raw video from its IDF source. The video was shot from the cockpit of one of the two IAF jets which attacked the farm. The images themselves were shot in grey scale, heat sensitive with targeting cross-hairs in the centre. The beginning of the video showed the farm coming into focus, the farmhouse, the north and south barns and the open pens. The video tracked left and zoomed in on the south barn. The barn now dominated the picture. The white glow from the fires caused by the Katyusha launch contrasted with the blackness of the surroundings. The video briefly showed the two BLU 109/Bs flashing through the remains of the barn’s roof. A fraction of a second after detonation a massive electrical disturbance appeared at the centre of the explosion; a ball of lightning, which grew to about half the size of the barn and then erupted skyward: The source of the Electrical Phenomenon. At that point the feed went blank. The BBC News team then spooled the video back to the beginning of the attack. About thirty seconds before the bombs hit, the news team highlighted a human heat signature running into the barn.
***
Timeline: The Pestilence minus 15 days. Information source: Telephone intercept between Dalia Srour and Mariam Fara.
Mariam Fara: Deedee, Samuel and I are both safe. We made it out of the farm. Samuel is hurt but it’s not serious.
Dalia Srour: Oh thank goodness that you children are safe. I have been calling and calling Samuel’s phone. Are you okay? How badly hurt is my son?
Mariam Fara: I’m fine; I was at my mother’s house. I don’t understand. It’s impossible he is still alive. Samuel was in the barn when the bombs fell, but all he has is a slight concussion and a small burn on his thigh. He is fine, he’s sleeping now. I’m sorry Deedee, but the farm, the animals, everything, it’s all gone.
Dalia Srour: I know, it said on the news.
Mariam Fara: Deedee, it was the men from the electricity company, they set up some sort of timed rocket system in the barn. They blew the roof and set off the rockets. The bastards set it up and left us to our fate.
Dalia Srour: Where are you?
Mariam Fara: A hospital in Jericho.
Dalia Srour: Why there and not the town hospital?
Mariam Fara: I’m scared Deedee. I wanted to get away. I booked in here under a false name. I said Samuel had been in a car accident. I didn’t know what else to do. After the attack, the whole world saw the lightning. The whole world. Soon people are going to be asking questions about it and then they will be looking for Samuel.
Dalia Srour: Why my darling?
Mariam Fara: Deedee, when I went back to the farm after the bombing, I saw where the lightning was coming from. It was Samuel. It was coming from him.
***
SAMUEL slipped silently out of the hospital bed. He didn’t want to wake Mariam who was folded into the armchair beside him. He had lain in bed watching her for a long time, tracing the contours of her face in the murky light. He worried now for their future and wondered where their lives would lead. He wore a long white hospital gown and a heavy strapping on his burned thigh. Samuel stretched, feeling rested and strong. He was the only patient in his room so he walked silently barefoot into the adjacent ward.
The Children’s Relief Hospital was located on the outskirts of Jericho. Built recently by a Palestinian charity it was small and modern. The hospital covered three floors. The first and second floors were devoted to trauma, a small legacy of the recent war and on the ground floor next to the multi-faith chapel was the accident and emergency unit. Samuel’s ward was on the top floor.
Rami Hussein was in the final throes of life. He had a particularly aggressive form of bowel cancer that no amount of chemotherapy or surgery could abate. He had been fighting this battle for seven long years and at forty-one the cancer would soon rob him of the remainder of his life. He was a bitter man, cheated by his sickness and estranged from his family. Rami Hussein mourned that his final days were to be spent not in the bosom of a loving family but on the third floor of a small hospital on the outskirts of Jericho.
Rami Hussein woke from a soporific nightmare to find Samuel standing by his bed. In the hazy aftermath of interrupted sleep and heavy medication, he imagined that Samuel was one of his useless doctors there to poke, prod and annoy. He threw a scowl Samuel’s way before turning his face from him in the hope he would be left in peace. Samuel took Rami Hussein’s chin and turned his head gently to face him. He then placed both hands on either side of Rami’s face and covered his eyes with his thumbs. From Samuel’s fingers Rami felt a small electrical discharge, similar to a static shock and panic rose like bile in his throat. He tried lashing out but found his illness had robbed him of the strength he needed to fight this stranger. He tried in vain to call for the nurse, but his voice was small and weak. Samuel was just too strong and the power flowing from his hands too great for Rami to resist. He finally accepted that this was to be the end of his wretched life and lay still embracing his fate.
Samuel left Rami Hussein and calmly moved across the ward to the next bed. An elderly man with a kindly face watched Samuel approach. He didn’t sleep much these days the pain from his back a constant companion. The man smiled at Samuel; Samuel returned it with warmth and feeling. “What are you doing?” the old man said as Samuel placed his hands either side of the old man’s face and covered his eyes with his thumbs.
“Saving you,” said Samuel.
***
BILL Irons was suffering an uncomfortable night at the wheel of a BBC Jeep heading east out of Jerusalem. Twenty-five years in the business, Bill was first and foremost a war reporter. He had covered eleven wars in three continents and had been based in the Middle East for over a decade. With the outbreak of peace he was due to be reassigned. Despite
all of its problems he still loved the Holy Land. He spoke fluent Arabic and Hebrew but now was cursing in his native English at the sorry state of the roads on which he was travelling.
Much to his assistant editor’s dismay, Bill had commandeered a Jeep and left Jerusalem after the cessation of the Electrical Phenomenon. The BBC World News assistant editor, a young, over-promoted Oxford graduate had wanted Bill to remain on hand in the Jerusalem studios to take part in the discussion about the nature of the Electrical Phenomenon. Bill had no interest in sitting around filling news hours with speculation, or mental masturbation as he called it. He wanted answers, he wanted the story behind the phenomenon and for that he had to find the source.
It was clear from the cell phone videos from Haran that the source was somehow land based, emanating from the bombed farm. He had to start there. Haran was a three-hour drive and on route Bill spoke to the IDF captain who had originally tipped him off about the rocket attacks. The captain hinted that he could also get Bill the cockpit video from the two fighters. The IDF were not intending to release it to the public as they wanted to ascertain if the Electrical Phenomenon was some sort of weapon. The captain was promised access to a suite in the Mandarin Oriental and the captain sent Bill the video via an anonymous email address. Bill smiled to himself; he hadn’t the first clue how he would slip the suite through his BBC expenses.
Around 6 a.m. Bill was surveying the wreckage of the Srour family farm. In the early morning light the farm was a desolate moonscape: Two overlapping impact craters, rubble and twisted metal. Animal carcasses littered the ground and a few strays miserably picked their way through the wreckage. It was difficult for Bill to see how, or if, any people could survive this apocalypse. He was no closer to finding the source.
A short drive brought him to Haran, nothing more than a cluster of houses huddled along a dirt road. At the far end of the road he found a shop that doubled as the village bakery and coffee house. A perfect spot to spend a few hours smoking and asking some gentle questions of the patrons. He was even reasonably pleased with the coffee.
The Pestilence Page 2
