~ ~ ~
While the work week in Israel typically begins Sunday morning, the staff of The Project had a few days off to make up for the absence from their loved ones and to allow them some time to get immediate concerns taken care of as there would be many more lengthy absences in the foreseeable future.
The days with her family passed much too quickly and now she found herself returning to The Project. She could not help but feel a sense of anticipation, excitement even, and more than a little foreboding as she drove her little gas-saving compact to the drop-off / pick-up area.
Hers would be but one part of The Project, and she would have only a basic understanding, where needed, of the part the others played. One of the many rules was that they were not to talk about their work with one another when not actually conducting work. The common room and recreational areas were strictly non-work. Hidden cameras and microphones were everywhere – even in their private living areas. These not only protected them from intruders and internal espionage, but they also served to assure rules were being followed to the letter. The fate of the nation, and even perhaps the Jewish People as a whole, was riding on The Project.
She knew that there were two more facilities of The Project in other parts of the country. A location such as the Negev Nuclear Research Center in the Negev Desert area called "Dimona," the reputed site of a nuclear reactor and weapons, would be ideal for a location of The Project. Even Rachael, with her security clearance, had not been allowed to breach its steel-reinforced, sacrosanct walls.
Parking her car in the designated spot, reasonably certain that she wasn't followed, she exited and walked across the street to hail a shayroot, an Israeli multi-passenger taxi that was the equivalent of two taxis in one, allowing for multiple passengers during lengthy trips to share the expense.
Within seconds the shayroot pulled up and stopped beside her with a scratch on the passenger door exactly where it should be, a predefined hand signal, and a driver's face that matched the photo sent to her mobile phone. Assured that this was her driver, doubtlessly armed to the teeth, Rachael settled into the back seat when the door automatically opened for her.
She noticed how low the car was to the street, lower than a regular shayroot. This was to be expected, and reassuring. The vehicle had significant alterations to allow for heavy plating around the body, roof, and undercarriage. Its wheels would withstand the impact of a low-yield RPG. Thick windows with nearly invisible wire filament provided security stronger than bullet-proof glass found at bank teller stations.
The vehicle also had a special wire mesh throughout that would block all incoming and outgoing transmission. Both the driver and passenger had access to two redundant emergency radio systems, tuned to the bandwidth used by the country’s security services. Two cleverly designed antennae for each emergency radio system, invisible from outside the vehicle assured strong transmission. The emergency radios even had their own independent processors that monitored the car, allowing each to transmit an automated emergency message if the shayroot were to be significantly damaged or the passengers rendered unconscious.
From the outside the shayroot looked ordinary. The passenger area, which would have comfortably accommodated eight adults, was custom designed for no more than two passengers so that it could be fitted with many of the conveniences of home.
The comfort and elegance of its appointments were partly an effort to diffuse tensions experienced when one knows that one is effectively severed from the outside and a sitting duck in a potentially hazardous situation.
Rachael had completed a lengthy and detailed questionnaire about her preferences in food and dietary requirements and special requests. Being strictly Orthodox, she observed all kashrut laws to maintain a kosher kitchen in her home.
The questionnaire further included inquiries relative to preferred books and other forms of entertainment, clothing restrictions - she would not wear pants or shorts - prescriptions both medical and optical, special exercise requirements, personal care needs and wants, allergies, and a litany of other items. This questionnaire was the second time she was answering these questions about her wants and needs while employed at The Project.
At the beginning of the screening process, there were seemingly countless psychological tests, some overt such as written essays and describe what you see pictures, in tandem with others of a more camouflaged nature.
Additional background checks went beyond those already conducted for her security clearance. There were judicious inquiries about, and with, her family and friends, her online activities and social networks.
Rachael felt that the organizers of The Project knew her better than she knew herself. No doubt they also kept tabs on the conduct and financial affairs of her family members as well: children, spouse, parents, and siblings.
Given all the information already compiled on her likes and dislikes, she wasn't surprised to find a crystal glass and silver ice bucket stocked with a bottle of Perrier mineral water waiting for her. This wasn't the glass of calming red wine she would have preferred under the circumstances, but it would have to do.
The consumption of alcohol for the duration of The Project, except for a glass of wine as a part of the Sabbath meal for the religiously observant, was strictly prohibited. Indeed, wine for religious purposes wasn't required. One could drink grape juice or even water for the Sabbath and religious holidays such as Passover, but she had already given up so much of her life she had no intention of giving up wine on the Sabbath! Other than the Sabbath meal - sometimes not even then - she never drank alcoholic beverages unless accompanied by a romantic meal with her husband, so this wouldn't be a deal breaker. She wondered what would be on ice in the shayroot for her Mormon colleague, Jeff, to drink.
As difficult as these changes in her daily routine were for her, Rachael mused, it must be considerably more so for Jeff. After all, she was in her own country and her family was ever nearby. He, however, was in a country with a language and culture largely foreign to him, his family and friends thousands of miles away.
As a Christian he was always welcome, for the most part, and had many friends already – but he and everybody else knew he could never fit in 100%. There was a growing social backlash at the number of non-Jews living and working in the country. Most were poorly paid, frequently working off the books illegally, from countries such as the Philippines and Eastern Europe. They were having babies in Israel, requiring an increasing draw from the common tax base for medical treatment and childhood education.
Exacerbating matters were also non-Jewish, non-Arab people in Israel, in high paying positions, taking jobs from Israelis. In fact this latter group in reality did no such thing. They were only allowed in for high positions in industries such as commerce, manufacturing, technology, and etcetera when their experience and qualifications were markedly superior to other applicants. It's difficult to deny or ignore the very perception of the mainstream population. Like it or not perception in any society is the equivalent of reality.
While he appeared to thrive in such an environment, Stauffenberg's family so far away in the United States would certainly take its toll on him emotionally after a period of time. Rachael could be with her family with some regularity. But for Jeff, trips home would have to be planned with extra security measures in place for him and his family. Unknown to his family, nine Mossad agents would watch over them in shifts of three at their home and schools, providing a measure of comfort to this exceptional husband and father.
For him, the struggle was that they had no idea of his real work or even where he really was. Every week they received postcards written by him well in advance, complete with European postmarks, sometimes to be accompanied by gifts for special occasions. The gifts from European stores with the occasional Euro price tag that he sometimes forgot to remove were also in storage at the facility for his return trips home. Telephone calls to his wife and children were relayed through European phone systems, complete with pre-recorded bac
kground sounds of a restaurant or metro station, sometimes including people casually "passing by," while conversing in the language of the country in which he was supposed to be working.
She knew that such deceptions were very difficult for him to foist on his family, but also knew he understood the value of The Project and the critical part he must play in it. A part even she didn't know, but soon would.
Upon arrival at the facility, every item still being used by the members, as well as everybody on the staff, was surrendered in the anterooms, one for women and one for men. This meant every stitch of clothing was also to be surrendered. Even hearing aids and vision-correcting glasses had to be removed, with Project supplied hearing aids, glasses, etc., provided on the other side of the locker room where one would then get dressed in compliance with regulation clothing. A complete body scan would be conducted after dressing in Project clothing to assure that nothing had been secreted into the facility. Finally a holographic photo badge for identification and job classification was provided once dressed.
Every room, even bathrooms and most hallways, could only be accessed via biometrics. State-of-the-art security equipment was in place with biometric technology to guarantee that a person wasn’t entering an area under duress and actually belonged there. For example, the retinal scan required a specific set of parameters of the eye being scanned including temperature, movement of blood through the surface and internal capillaries, and even pupil diameter. A person under unusual stress such as that caused by a kidnap situation, a person in a drugged state, or a person attempting deception, would have pupils that react differently than that same person when calm and operating under normal conditions.
The only thing allowing passage into the facility after changing clothing in the locker area was the person inside the clothing. No personal items such as jewelry, not even frames for photographs, were admitted beyond the anterooms of the facility. The one exception was family photographs that were inspected before gaining admittance. For Dr. Stauffenberg a departure from the norm was approved. He found, to his amazement and great pleasure, an enlarged photograph of his family, from a recent trip to Disneyland, in a beautiful frame mounted on the wall of his sleeping room. Beside his bed on the simple nightstand he discovered a set of scriptures used by Mormons that included the Bible. Jeff felt grateful, and even touched, that The Project leadership understood how much more difficult and stressful it would be to be completely removed from his family and religious community. He made a mental note to thank Moshe when next they spoke.
Each member of the scientific team had their own living area. These living areas consisted of the aforementioned sleeping room, a bathroom, and a reading-work area complete with one hard-wired computer. In the facility there were no WiFi devices, no over-the-airwaves communications including television and radio. Only the security guards operated with walkie-talkies whose frequencies were set to randomly alternate throughout the day. People communicated either in persona propria, via landline-based inter-office phones which were swept throughout the day for bugs at irregular intervals, 128 bit encrypted e-mail, or by somebody else going in the direction of the person for whom one had a non-confidential message.
The computer system for each facility was completely sealed save for one output-only port used to download and store data offsite. Access to the information from the mainframe outside the facilities was impossible unless one could gain entry to the off-site file storage; the location of which was a closely guarded secret held by only three people. Files were carefully secured in a multi-layered and lethal manner with both technological and brawny human safeguards. Rachael knew that even with her extraordinary intelligence, exquisite Mediterranean beauty, and finely-honed female charms, she would never make it past the first guard alive unless invited by the Prime Minister himself into the data storage chamber some 30 stories below ground level.
This second trip to the facility seemed to go more quickly than the first. Even with the windows darkened, she could tell that the driver took measures to alter the route, a couple of times stopping so suddenly that it caught her breath. Thankfully, Perrier did not stain.
She decided to read a book over letting her thoughts run rampant. Still, it was impossible to not consider, as she had more than a few times over the last couple of days, the scenarios Moshe put forth before their departure for home about time itself.
Rachael’s maternal grandmother suffered the horrors of the Sho'ah, the Nazi Holocaust. She had no doubt that if she could she would have killed Hitler with her bare hands before the maniac turned much of Europe into humans-as-cattle railway transports, gas chambers, and forced labor death camps.
Of all the wonderful legacies her grandmother had passed onto her this was the saddest. She could never look at her grandmother without wondering what she had been through, accepting the fact that only the victims: dead – of blessed memory – and still living, could truly know if not ever fully comprehend.
Thinking of her grandmother put her mind to the other question posed in theory by Moshe. This question she heard before and dismissed as foolish to contemplate the impossible. What if she went back in time and accidentally killed her grandfather before her father had been born? That would mean she would never have been born as well, and therefore could not have killed her grandfather, who then would have lived to give life to her own father.
She gave it some thought, pondering the potential implications, but then sighed in resignation.
"Super String Theory," usually called simply "String Theory," was to her much more easily grasped and comprehended, if not provable, than time theory. Dr. Brian Greene, an American Theoretic Physicist titled one of his books on the very basics of String Theory, "The Elegant Universe." There remained an elegance to String Theory, possibly the long-sought Holy Grail of Unifying Theory that Rachael found compelling. Advances in the field lead her to pursue it as a post-doctoral discipline.
While intriguing, she found little to be elegant in the theoretic musings of the nature and function of time itself. Rachael was too linear a thinker to deeply consider the meandering ways of time as explained by Einstein and even some theologians.
Still, she knew Moshe all too well – far better than anybody but his own wife. His brilliant mind was able to consider new and unproven, perhaps improvable, concepts without the mental and emotional restrictions of religious / scientific / cultural / or historical preconceptions. Just as importantly, perhaps even far more so, he could ponder and question new ideas without the limitations of ego, or emotional investiture.
Moshe frequently put her in mind of Michele Besso – a close friend and confidant of Albert Einstein. Besso also had this rare capacity to accept or dismiss without prejudice. Thus was Dr. Einstein able to discuss new thoughts and theories with Besso in a way that would probably have been completely impossible with anybody else.
Moreover, she knew that Moshe wasn't the type of person to randomly throw out a hypothetical without good reason. Rather than approach his odd queries as Rachael considering the words of Moshe, it was best for analytical Dr. Rachael Siwel to consider the words of Dr. Moshe Levin, arguably one of the most intelligent person now living.
"Is there any separation between the hemispheres of his brain?" She mused. "What I wouldn’t give for an MRI of his brain. Better yet, excise and dissect it for postmortem study." She loved her husband with absolute commitment yet Moshe held a special place in her heart since she first heard him give a fascinating lecture at C.E.R.N. Because of her admiration and purely sisterly feelings for him the thought, while intriguing, of studying his brain gave her a little shudder as she donned the considerably less-than-fashionable clothing of the facility.
Entering the inner sanctum of the facility Rachael shuddered again, inexplicably feeling for the first time since her introduction to The Project, a sense of foreboding that went beyond her work. The source of the dread eluded her, hovering just beyond conscious thought.
For a brief moment she
had to steady herself against the institution-styled tile wall. Something tragic was about to happen; she could feel it. Unable to shake the gnawing feeling she wondered if this might be some instinct regarding her family or intuition about something on a larger scale. Then somehow, in some way just beyond her grasp to verbalize.
Composing herself, she entered her lab and shared greetings with her immediate co-workers. The feeling soon passed as she buried herself in her work, but its memory would linger for days. Rachael could never have imagined the tragedy about to happen, one that would shake a city half a world away.
Table of Contents
4. Wherever You Find Them
" . . . therefore if they do not withdraw from you and (do not) offer you peace and restrain their hands, then seize and kill them wherever you find them . . ." – Qu’ran 4:91
Cairo, Egypt; Tehran, Islamic Republic of Iran; and Gaza City, Gaza
"Each of our Com-Sat phones are utilizing a hopping, spread spectrum frequency." Abd El-Monem Abou, ex-Division Chief of Military Operations for the Egyptian Bureau of the Muslim Brotherhood, started the teleconference. "They have already been tested and proven secure against the Zionist Entity."
"For too long has the Zionist Dog been allowed to kill our women and children with unmanned drones in the air as they sit safely, protected in their bunkers. For too long has the Great Satan provided the Little Satan with weapons against which we can't possibly defend ourselves as they steal our lands and our livelihoods. For too long have the Jew Pigs humiliated us in front of our wives and children, subjecting us to check points just so we can go to work and earn a meager earning to feed our hungry families. For too long have they bulldozed the homes of the parents and siblings of our Freedom Fighters. For too long have they left our Freedom Fighters to rot in prison, men who simply want to liberate the lands of our ancestors from these thieves and usurpers. For too long have our young men martyred themselves in the streets of the Zionist Entity because we have no other weapons with which to fight - until now. Now, my brothers, we level the field. The war, the slaughter of our innocents, the babies and children we have laid to rest in early graves, all will be avenged and we will, with the help of Allah, reclaim all that was taken from us!"
"Allahu akbar!" enthusiastically interjected Abdel Zulema Aziz from the Hamas communication center located in the expanded basement of a hospital in Gaza City. Belying his middle name of Zulema, meaning "tranquil" or "peaceful" in Arabic, Abdel yearned for the day when he would melt the skin from the bones of the Zionist pigs in his land, watch rabid dogs chew the carcasses of their filthy children, and restore Palestine to her rightful sons under the glorious banner of Hamas, if it be Allah’s will.
Abd continued his review of their current status. "Our brothers in Tehran have acquired most of the packages and are adding their own special touches. With Hosni Mubarak deposed, we once again have opened the Suez Canal to Iranian ships for the first time since the Islamic Revolution of Iran in 1979."
"To test the reaction of the Zionist Entity, we allowed passage of one Iranian naval war vessel through the Canal earlier this year. The Americans were silent and, in spite of their formal protests, the Zionists did not dare to attempt a blockade. The ship passed through the canal without any diplomatic or military fallout."
Ghasem Suleimani, former commander of the Quds Force of Iran's Revolutionary Guards, interjected, "Additionally we deployed a monitoring beacon in the Mediterranean Sea. Now that we are able to send our Naval vessels through the Suez unfettered, and have commenced construction on our own military compound in Syria at the Latakia airport, we are gaining even greater strength and a more commanding presence in the region. We have assured our brothers in Turkey that we are not a threat, but soon this will not be an issue as they continue to strengthen a conservative Islamic presence in their previously secular government. Once this mission has been completed our nuclear reactors for strictly peaceful energy needs will be unveiled to the world for their greater purpose and the glory of Allah be revealed in the might of His People and words of His prophet Muhammad, of blessed memory."
"You just started construction of the base, are you concerned that protests against Al-Mazan could derail the projected completion next year?" Abdel carefully inquired.
"No, brother, all is well. The rebels are now in Damascus fighting near army headquarters. Should Ibrahim fall his father Hafez would see to it that Syria’s economy, regional security and infrastructure would be crippled should Iran withdraw financial and military support. Though not as obvious as the case with Lebanon, Syria is dependent on Iran for any successor to Al-Mazan to ignore or attempt to pressure us. We are the masters controlling the strings of these marionettes."
"When are the packages to be delivered?" Abdel asked, virtually delirious with anticipation.
"Patience little brother. If this is to be done correctly we need to test not only the will of the Little Shaitan, but also the Big Shaitan." Referencing the two 'Satans' personified in the State of Israel and the United States Ghasem continued, "With the economy of the Big Shaitan in ruins and their people weary of their ongoing military presence in Iraq, Afghanistan, and other countries and peoples of The Book under the pretense of liberating the people, they are now turning inward. With a weak economy, struggling economic figures, border security and so much more, their focus will be on so many things that the Zionists, who receive billions in American aid and military equipment, won't be but a second thought."
"The current American president's distaste for Israel is palpable. He gives lip service to Jews in America at the annual AIPAC conference, but his position on Israel is well-known throughout the world, and his apparent dislike for Jews in general works to our favor."
"Then, with the housing and water resources crises in the Little Shaitan in full swing accompanied by its attendant mass demonstrations, fueled by their own financial concerns and political morass, the Zionist entity has allowed itself to become distracted, playing into our hands. Additionally, their government and population are foolishly focused on the Iranian nuclear program to the near exclusion of all other threats. If they don't bomb the reactor and uranium enrichment sites, they will still waste psychological and financial energy trying to get the global community to impose harsher sanctions – keeping the world's focus also on the nuclear program. If they or the Americans do bomb the sites, then all the better as they will be looking for retaliation on the outside, never considering for a moment that it has already been living within their borders, awaiting the moment to strike. In every scenario, we achieve our goals."
"Not only will packages be deployed in Zionist-occupied Palestine, but also in nearly 100 high-value Jewish targets around the world. The Jew story of a Nazi Holocaust is false, fabricated by the Jews to gain world sympathy. Once we are done, having decimated the Zionist entity among us, and leveled synagogues, Jewish organizations, and population centers around the globe, they will know what a true holocaust is – one from which they can never recover. We will kill them wherever we find them! Unlike the fabled Phoenix, ashes of the Jews will scatter to the wind, never to rise up again. Insha’Allah."
"The strain has been manipulated in Level-4 bio safety laboratories in Tehran and here in Cairo. We are satisfied with both the deployment specifications as well as the contained degree of lethal exposure."
"Please elaborate Abd."
Abd continued, "Using genetic manipulation we have refined the Ebola strain smuggled out of Russia. The Anthrax samples come from the same source. Generally people get Ebola normally from drinking infected water or eating infected food. Untreated, a person with a significant amount of the bacteria in their system will begin to experience massive diarrhea and go into shock anywhere from 4 to 12 hours. Death can be expected anywhere from 18 hours to several days from the inception of infection. We have improved on the nature and increased the time of symptom presentation to just two hours from infection with death from four to six hours. While many people infec
ted with the standard strain of the bacteria will never get ill, and never even know they had it, our genetic manipulation guarantees complete systemic collapse of all who are even moderately exposed."
"That is wonderful!" Abdel exclaimed. "Our Hamas leaders here in Gaza and in Lebanon will be thrilled."
Ghasem interjected, "Between that, and the promising results from our human trials with our modified Anthrax, we feel confident that the Zionists and Jews around the world will be completely blindsided. There is no vaccine available to the general public for our modified strain of Anthrax. Coupling it with Ebola assures victory to be on our side. They will think they have a cold – and then be dead in a matter of hours. Those who realize there is more to it, if they do reach a hospital, will be dead before a diagnosis of two separate but deadly diseases can be diagnosed. By the time the first autopsies are conducted, it will already be too late for the initial diagnosis of a new strain of Ebola. The Anthrax will kill nearly instantly. Only those who escape exposure to the Anthrax will almost be guaranteed death from Ebola. In some sites we have selected, both diseases will be released. In all other sites just one or the other. This will help to create psychological terror among the uninfected. The resulting panic and riots – primarily against Jews who will be seen as the carriers of the diseases – will most likely kill more people than the diseases themselves. The best weapon is human fear. No technology, biological or mechanical, will ever match the psychological weapon of pure terror."
"When so much illness and death happens all at once, and to largely the same identifiable group of people, won’t this tip off authorities to move into swifter action?" inquired Abdel.
"Yes and no." Ghasem vaguely answered. "The deployments will happen largely the same time around the world. Of course, from location "a" to location "b" there will be a twenty-four hour time difference. This means that some communities will receive warning in time to avert complete disaster in their location. This does not concern us in the slightest. Our main objective is to eradicate the Zionist cancer among us by attacking Israel just as their Sabbath begins. Those Jews who are religious will not watch the television, turn on a computer, or answer their phones from sundown to sundown the next day. So even when mounting illness and death begins to draw media attention, they will be unaware and left to believe their family has come down with a bad flu. By the time information reaches them verbally that something serious is wrong, they will be too weak and incoherent to get help. Most will already be dead or dying."
"The greater part of the population who are not religiously observant will learn the truth only when it is too late – especially babies, young children and the elderly. Once both the nature and degree of the situation has been fully realized by first responders, and their health care system so completely overwhelmed with the sick and dying, they will have nothing better to do than to wring their hands with helplessness and pray to their god. By this point even health care workers and government officials will be too sick, themselves dying, to be of any effective use."
"As much as we have done to assure full deployment, we realize that we will be able to reach only 70 to 80 percent of our target populations in Zionist Occupied Palestine and the United States. Quds, or "Jerusalem" as the Zionist pigs and Christians call it, Haifa, Tel Aviv, and other large cities are our primary targets – as well as the suburbs of these cities. In Tel Aviv, we are more interested in the suburb known as Ramat Gan. It is in this suburb that there is a large concentration of scientific and medical expertise. It is important to cripple them immediately. These cities are primary targets, along with large Jewish population centers around the world, especially such cities in the United States as Los Angeles, New York, and Miami. Also other prominent cities with significant Jewish populations as are found in Moscow, Buenos Aires, and Rio de Janeiro to name just a few."
"What is the status of the human trials?" The impetuous Abdel interrupted.
"One hundred percent mortality among all age groups and both genders. We have conducted tests in Tehran on prisoners of the Bahá’í faith. Their families are accustomed to members of this apostate abomination being thrown in prison years before a trial, if there even is one, held incommunicado. The main prison in Tehran where Bahá’ís are jailed, Evin prison, now has a Level Four Biohazard Laboratory to experiment on the Bahá’í prisoners incarcerated there. Many were malnourished and weakened long before the human trials began. To guarantee the results would approximate those of people living ordinary lives, we began to feed them the best foods, give them vitamin supplements, and provided use of a nearby gym and soccer field under carefully guarded supervision. We encouraged the use of the soccer field for the youth to play and develop good musculature and bone strength. Under these circumstances the initial trial testing succeeded with a one hundred percent mortality rate on over 200 individuals. They all died in less than four days, most between two to three days from the time infection was introduced. We tested only our Ebola strain. The Anthrax strain will simply be a very lethal backup in areas it is released."
"Well done brother." Interjected Ghasem. "On our end, for several years now, we have been introducing carefully trained sleeper agents who were schooled in the lifestyle and religion of the Jews. All who were to infiltrate Israeli and American society were also taught flawless Hebrew - Sephardi accent, as they are too dark-skinned to have European ancestry - and American English respectively. The Israel-bound agents were then sent to various countries with impeccable background documentation to enable them to immigrate to Israel as Jews under their Law of Return. Others as citizens of various countries to get student visas to study in America, and/or passports from their adopted countries to visit America under the pretense of tourism or visiting family there."
"For more than three years now, our agents have infiltrated Israeli society as Jewish immigrants and American society as students or people holding vital jobs. In all cases they have integrated and ingratiated themselves into their respective communities. Every military base, every Jewish Community Center, every large synagogue has one – or more - of our sleeper agents. Each of them is in contact with their handler. One handler for every thirty agents with no more than two hundred agents per cell. The contamination of the food supply will be easier than we originally anticipated. We also have agents established at water desalination plants and water pipeline stations. There has been a problem with only two agents who expressed doubts as to the validity of this mission. In each case we have disposed of these doubters without drawing attention to ourselves, replacing them with true believers."
"Many hundreds more, with false documentation showing them to be citizens of various countries friendly to the USA and Israel are ready to take their vacations and visit university campuses as prospective students in those and other countries with large Jewish populations in major cities. Primarily Western Europe, South Africa, and Latin America."
"Once we have approval from Tehran and Cairo jointly, we will send out an innocuous signal via the Internet to the cell leaders, beginning the final stage."
"Are you not worried about all that could go wrong, so many variables out of our control?"
"We don't have the luxury of worry. Besides, this has been planned so perfectly, and gone so well, I am certain of a joyous outcome. We must go forward, relying on the mercies of Allah and accepting that we have carefully planned and prepared for so long now, there just is no going back. This must work. It will work or we will die as Shihadi, to be received into the Paradise of Martyrs."
"Shookran wa sala’am" Abd signaled the close of this conversation to his two associates.
"Wa aleichem asala’am" rejoined Ghasem and Abdel.
Moments later Abd was again speaking with Ghasem on the telephone. "I have received reports that Abdel is speaking too freely and loosely on the fringes of our operation to impress his numerous lady friends. Just today one of our operatives, tailing Abdel, overheard heard him boast of his importance to a stranger at a bus stop in Gaza C
ity, loud enough for all around to hear."
"He will be in Paradise before the sun has set. I am pleased to know that he has been shadowed by one of your operatives. As we all should be."
"We all are, with the sole exceptions of you and me. We can't afford to fail after coming so far. Sala’am."
Ghasem neither liked nor trusted Abd. A lackey of Mubarak before the Muslim Brotherhood rose to, and then fell from, political power in Egypt. Abd seemed too eager to please whoever called the shots. Moreover Abd appeared to view himself as an equal to Ghasem, something Ghasem had to tolerate for now.
He slowly exhaled in near resignation. For now he had to deal with Abd and the Egyptians that were part of the group. Iran had been making friendly, diplomatic, overtures to Egypt which were being reciprocated. His assignment was to use Abd and his resources as long as needed. Once their part was over and they were no longer needed, Egypt, along with all other Arab countries, would learn the might and determination of the Islamic Republic of Iran and realize once and for all who the true leader of the Middle East was, the true defender and authorized sole interpreter of Islam.
The Jews would be all but annihilated. The Arabs, Turks, and anybody who opposed the might of Iran, would be subjugated. It was time to prepare the world, to purge and sanctify it, to destroy the infidels once and for all so that conditions would be ripe for the Twelfth Imam to appear, bringing justice and peace while establishing global Shi'a Islam.
Ghasem believed himself to be one of the Raj'a, one of the returned faithful who would bring retribution for the oppressed – the Shi'a faithful – against the oppressors, Sunni Muslims, Christians, Jews, the apostate Bahá’ís, and all others who had tried to isolate Iran, preventing it from achieving the greatness for which it was divinely destined.
The Hezbolla, Hamas, Islamic Jihad and others were but tools to achieve an end. Ultimately they, too, will bow down or be destroyed. While the world frantically looked to the uranium enrichment program of Iran, wringing their collectively impotent hands as they placate the Iranian president who so easily mollifies the western powers, a much greater and more lethal weapon being developed right under their noses. This was being accomplished with total impunity.
Ghasem was a patient man, calm, never raising his voice. At night, when at prayer and study, the excitement in him could barely be contained when he had visions of the devastation about to be visited on the world, and the honor and blessings to be bestowed on him by the final of the Twelve Imams who comes in glory, bringing peace and justice to the world.
Ghasem wondered exactly what important and powerful role he would be given by the Imam. For now he would have to be satisfied with that of cleansing the planet of the filth spread by the Great and Little Satans.
Ghasem spat to rid himself of the bad taste left in his mouth as he thought of Abd and the two Satans. To lighten his mood, he took a pleasurable drive to the prison to watch the further experimentation being conducted on the few human test subjects that remained.
Soon they would have to arrest more of Bahá’í faithful for additional experiments. Not that they were needed anymore, but watching them writhe in pain and bleed-out did provide a measure of entertainment for both doctors and guards alike. Besides, they would all be massacred in the end anyway. Really, bringing them to the prison was actually a charity, a kindness to them and their families. Better for them that they die now, not knowing what was about to happen, rather than wholesale when their headquarters in Haifa was attacked as well as the Bahá’í houses of worship in other countries.
The United Nations protested every time Bahá’ís were arrested or executed. Beyond words the U.N. proved impotent, representatives of the various countries quickly bowed to political expediency. When that didn't work, a change in oil flow and prices usually did the trick. If that didn't work, open hands receiving money or other incentives always did.
Having countries such as Rwanda sitting on the U.N. Security Council didn't hurt! Better still some of the worst nations, themselves infamous abusers of human rights, were voting members of the U.N.'s Human Rights Council. It made things so easy! Ghasem smiled as he thought about how the U.N. formally censured the State of Israel more times than Iran, Russia, China and North Korea combined. Weak, blind, stupid fools. They are such wonderful puppets.
Ghasem felt a warm inner glow as he thought of the sleeper agent now working as a volunteer at the Bahá’í headquarters in Haifa, maintaining the gardens around the Universal House of Justice – the lead governing body of the Bahá’í faith.
Soon, in just a few months, the order would be given. The streets will flow with blood, there will be none whose hand could stay the cleansing. Ghasem almost caught himself thinking, "Insha Allah," if God wills it. He stopped short. Surely God did will this and Ghasem was the sword to deliver swift justice to those cowards who hid behind their tanks and jet fighters and drone bombers, killing those who couldn't possibly defend themselves against such a massive and overwhelming military might.
Looking in the window of the cell of the prisoner/experiment, Ghasem took in the look of agony that had imprinted itself on her face at the time of death, a monument to his work.
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5. Genesis of "The Project"
"I want to go ahead of Father Time with a scythe of my own."– H. G. Wells
Jerusalem – The Israeli Knesset Building - Eight Years Ago
"In your folders you will find actionable intelligence, from both Shin Bet and Mossad, regarding a massive operation that is highly organized and very well funded. We have already discussed the main overview and objective of this plot, as well as the motives and background of the two main organizer/leaders. Later you will have time to read the materials before you. Familiarize yourselves with the details." Lt. General Dan Ashkelon did not introduce himself. An introduction to the assembled group wasn't required.
"Your folders are identical with the exception of a separate packet that each of you has outlining the mission objective specifically expected of you. After our concluding meeting you will have no communication with one another except through me, or approved by me as the need may arise."
"For your protection, as well as that of what we are doing, your teams will work in different locations throughout the country. There will be no electronic media access inbound or outbound from your facilities."
"Each facility will work on different aspects, or stages, of the mission. Thanks to efforts already conducted in a joint program at the Hebrew University and Technion's physics departments, we are already beyond the developmental and most experimental phases of our objective."
"While there is no need for any one facility to have access to specific details of the work being done in the other two facilities, a general overview is required to assure an expeditious, positive outcome."
"Moshe, Dr. Levin will head the facility that will focus on the human element of the first stage. We need to know now how much our timeline will be affected by the elimination of an ancestor of a current enemy to mankind. Through me you will work with Dr. Abram's facility on how to precisely target the landing of a person in a specific time and place in what we consider to be the past, then bring them back to our present space-time."
"Shmu'el, Dr. Aharon will head the biotechnology facility that will anticipate any potential mutations of the strains of Ebola and Anthrax that are currently being weaponized, as well as develop an antidote as soon as is possible. As bodies of the test victims continue to be amassed our agent is providing us with body fluids so that we can keep up with the ongoing development of each strain to make antidotes. We must, though, keep up with computer models of any possible mutations so that we can be prepared should they occur."
"No'am, Dr. Abrams will continue his work on space-time singularities and quantum entanglement, as well as perfecting how to shield objects, especially people, from the physical effects of time travel."
"We have gone far, having sent a book printed in 1920 b
ack to 1920 with our names written by each of us on the cover page in modern times. We then flew to New York City to find the book in the main library – signatures aged nearly 100 years, cracked and oxidized over the years. Though the ink is of modern chemistry and for us the time difference was less than a week, our signatures have been on that page for a full hundred years. We next sent a modern citrus tree seedling, genetically altered for a DNA fingerprint, back to a kibbutz in 1940. It was sent with a shipping label that appeared to be from a Jewish charity in the United States that existed at that time to help the Israeli citrus industry, with a request that the seedling be planted in the common area of the kibbutz. Dr. Aharon waited in the common area with his temporal shield to help him maintain his own time references, at the time the seedling was landed, the term we now use for an object sent to a specific place and time in the past."
"At the instant it was sent back in our time frame, he saw appear a large fruit tree in the modern common area of the kibbutz. We were happy to note that nobody living in the kibbutz seemed surprised at all that there was an old, fully-grown tree there. For them, it had always been there. Not only that, but dual, identical records we have of the kibbutz agribusiness and population, with names and ages of people living at the kibbutz before and since 1940 that are kept in the Temporal Shielded Room, did not change with the appearance of the tree."
"However, a copy of the same records outside of the Temporal Shielded Room documented the fact that production numbers of the citrus output for the kibbutz jumped significantly from the identical copy that was temporally shielded. Apparently, some bright farmer realized that this tree was somehow very special, made several grafts of it to plant more such trees. Interestingly, there wasn't a single change in the number or names of the people on the kibbutz – just the increased fruit production output. The DNA was a perfect match to the DNA sample of the seedling we had retained in the temporal shielded area."
"Another important item of note that resulted from these two experiments was that we confirmed the changes at all. Throughout our work in The Project there has been conjecture that if the multiverse or parallel universe views of space-time proved to be true, then we might be making changes to another, near identical but altogether different universe – another planet Earth – other than our own. The fact that the anticipated changes happened in our own space-time, not elsewhere, allows us to move forward to this most critical next step."
"What we are now planning to do, erase the existence of an entire branch of a family, by making sure one of their ancestors was never even conceived in the first place, something we have theorized but never dared to attempt on moral and philosophical grounds, is now something we must face as our best line of defense against the near annihilation that will be visited not only on our people, but on the entire world should we shirk from this duty or fail at any step along the way."
"We will leave to religious leaders and sages how to then put the genie back in the bottle once released. Ideally, the world will never know what has transpired – hopefully we will never be forced to do so again. Being the head of our military, I'm well aware of consequences of not only this action, but the possibility of its abuse in the future. As with all technologies the use for good or for evil is in the hands of those wielding the technology. I'll move that once we have accomplished our mission that the technology – as well as all information regarding it - be destroyed. A complete erasure of this knowledge will be impossible, nachon?"
Dr. Abrams considered these last words perhaps more deeply than the others. One could destroy his facility, including all of his research notes. He and his assistants would still have the information in their heads. Even when old age and eventual death overcame them, the idea of time travel would have been around for a very, very long time. If the State of Israel did not develop and maintain control over it, somebody else eventually would. Better to have such a powerful weapon under one's own lock-and-key rather than to throw it out, hoping nobody else would find and keep it to themselves.
While Lt. General Ashkelon was pontificating, Dr. Levin already formulated the makeup of his team in his mind. Of the top ten people who would be team leaders, two – one a lone wolf, the other a brilliant scientist and leader in her own right – came to him as flashes of lightning in a clouded sky.
Moshe first met Jeff when visiting a cousin who taught at M.I.T. When a friend heard that he would be in Cambridge, Massachusetts, he suggested that Moshe make it a point to also meet Jeff, who would be there with his family for a vacation that included a history tour. Knowing his friend as he did, Moshe understood this to be no casual request. Moshe was given the approximate time Jeff and his family would be walking the "Freedom Trail" that goes through parts of old Boston. This schedule was fairly certain as all of the Stauffenbergs' vacations were booked through a travel agency.
Moshe happened to have stopped at an old cemetery on the Freedom Trail to await casual conversation with Jeff. Being told of Jeff's background and his interest in genealogy an old cemetery seemed as good a place as any to strike up a conversation. Besides, one of Moshe's ancestors was from New England, allowing his accidental and completely coincidental encounter with Jeff to have at least an air of honesty.
Moshe remembered first seeing Jeff and his family approach the cemetery – where the venerable Benjamin Franklin's parents were buried. It seemed to be a magnet pulling Jeff in, to the whining objections of his children who had had enough walking that day!
The family, something about them, seemed different, even in a crowd of similar individuals, couples, and families. He could not put his finger on it but he would have picked the Stauffenbergs out from the crowd easily even without having seen their picture beforehand.
Observing Jeff interact with his wife and children with love and humor, while still prodding them into the cemetery, made him instantly likable. His beautiful wife, Lynn, rolled her eyes knowing that arguing this one would be a no-win situation, so she might as well make the best of it. His children, Brian and Samantha, became a little more enthusiastic once promised a pizza in the famous Italian North End of Boston, if they gave him just 20 minutes to look at the antique gravestones. Moshe loved how Americans thought something was antique if it was 200 years old. In Israel, that's considered fairly modern. Antique in the State of Israel was a status conferred on an object only once it had reached the ripe age of at least 1,000 years of age, ideally closer to the time of the Second Temple – some 2,000 years!
In the cemetery, Moshe smiled and nodded to Jeff and Lynn, they nodded back in the friendly, open way that the Americans seem to have when in a group of strangers. He wasn't really sure, though, how to approach Jeff casually – without appearing as if Jeff were a target.
He decided to let Jeff make the next move. From what he knew of Jeff's background, the dossier was indeed very thick, Jeff would approach him just from the ice-breaking smile offered earlier. Jeff was known to be, above all else, friendly and uncommonly open to strangers. This would be Moshe's way to engage Jeff in conversation, to feel him out.
Meandering slowly around the old headstones, calculating a path sure to intersect that of the Stauffenberg family, Moshe happened to be looking at the same headstone as Jeff and Lynn. Brian and Samantha, having long since lost any pretense of interest "hooked up" with another group of teenagers who were also bemoaning their fate.
Unsurprisingly, Jeff introduced himself. Returning the gesture Moshe also casually commented to Jeff that he had a family tie to early Boston, though he had been born and raised in Israel. He would like to find a place where he could study a little of his Boston roots.
"Perhaps the Boston Historical Society?" Moshe asked.
"That might be a great place to start. You may also want to try the branch of the Federal Archives nearby in Waltham for census and immigration records."
"Great idea, I didn't know the census records were so handily nearby! Do you know of any other, more local places where one can search family
history?" asked Moshe, hopeful to bring up the vast Mormon genealogical records.
"I'm not from here, so I wouldn't know," Jeff responded and continued, "do a search on the Internet, you should find at least one option."
Not the response he had expected.
"I heard the Mormons have collected a considerable database for family history research. Do you know if that's true?"
"Yes, it is. Actually, I am a Mormon. But I'm hesitant to bring it up because we do not proselytize the Jewish People. You can go to FamilySearch.org - though it's run by the church it's not a religious website. It simply is an online database of genealogical records collected over the decades. In fact, it's the largest online collection of genealogical data. Truth be told Moshe I've done a great deal of family history but my main addiction is Theoretical Physics. Now, usually when I bring Physics up people's eyes glaze over and they find a way to make their escape, but your face gives you away. Have I found a kindred spirit in you?"
"You most certainly have, and then some. That is a subject that fascinates me too, along with Particle Physics. I have studied a couple of disciplines in Physics for many years holding a Doctorate in Physics. Is this a hobby for you, or something more?"
"What started out as a hobby in my childhood – the seed of which was planted by television shows such as Star Trek and The Time Tunnel of early 1960's and 70's – evolved into something more. In fact, it's now a full-time hobby that pays the bills!"
"Sounds like a great gig."
"Oh, it is, and one that I love. I'm currently the Chair of the Physics Department at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Tell you what. I have to get going, but if you have a business card, I would very much enjoy opening a correspondence with you when I return to Jerusalem."
Doctor Levin not only got Jeff's contact information, something that he already knew before making the request, but he also recorded the entire conversation for later review at Mossad and Shin Bet offices in both Tel-Aviv and Jerusalem.
In just a few short weeks, Moshe would again be in the United States. This time in Colorado, to ask Jeff some foundational questions before inviting him to work on something destined to change his life as well as the fate of every living being on the planet.
Table of Contents
6. Escape in a Dream
"If you get an infection, you get a fever; the fever is your body dealing with the infection. If you get traumatized, your mind and your brain have a reaction to that trauma. If you're not dreaming about it, something's probably wrong." - Sebastian Junger
Virginia, United States of America - 1864
Jeff Stauffenberg was only slightly disappointed at the lack of any special effects one might expect when landing in the past. He had hoped for a flash of light, a gust of wind, or something to announce such a spectacular moment in history. Though he knew that contrary to special effects of sci-fi shows there would be no visual nor audible announcement to his appearance; this seemed so bland, so ordinary. "Just as well," he thought, "best that nobody witness me appear out of thin air." Then he recalled the experiment with the citrus tree at the kibbutz. If somebody had seen him arrive, to them he'd have been there already.
After taking a moment to gain his bearings as well as to relish this incredible moment of the first human traveling back in time, Jeff looked around to confirm he was alone. Thankfully, The Project placed him in an area situated well away from known habitations or battles conducted on this specific day of the Civil War or, as some Southerners prefer, the War Between the States.
Retrieving a plastic bag from his pants pocket, he placed the space-time device in it, sealing the bag tightly before burying it near the base of a large tree that he could easily recognize from any angle upon his return. Carefully brushing the soil to remove obvious evidence of recent disturbance, Jeff set out toward his destination: a small town approximately two hours by horse to the farm owned by Martin McLaughlin.
The long walk was made difficult by the sweltering summer heat coupled with the uncomfortable boots worn by Confederate soldiers that completed his uniform, allowing a complete stranger to better blend in with contemporary society.
At length Stauffenberg reached the town; in short order locating a quaint, Southern hotel. The proprietor welcomed him as he climbed the steps of the front porch, rising from an ornately carved rocking chair, laying a fat cigar on the edge of the table next to him.
"Welcome soldier, How can I help ya'll?"
"I'm looking for lodgings for one night, Don't suppose ya'll have a room available at this late hour." Jeff's Southern accent, perfected over the last few months, to his relief raised no eyebrows thus far.
"Well young man yur in a heap 'o luck! As it happens we have one room left. Get 'cherself right in, we'll get 'cha fixed up. Ya'll hungry?"
"Yes'ir, as a matter fact I am."
"Molly, why don't you rustle up some food while I get him checked in?" The old man's voice had a slight crackling quality when he spoke, yet an astonishingly clear and strong quality as he yelled toward the open front door.
Molly, most likely the wife of the proprietor, showed Jeff to the small dining room where he sat at a table that, with the chairs, took much of the space with little to spare. Jeff heard her in the kitchen humming a perky little tune that he didn't recognize as she bustled about, preparing a heaping plate of delicious, southern home-style cooking. "Much obliged ma'am." Jeff thanked her then dug in to the food, famished, as he hadn't had a bite to eat that morning, excitement and anticipation precluding any desire for nourishment.
"Well my, my, my, but ain't ya'll a hungry one?" The proprietor's wife beamed with pride as their newest boarder nearly breathed in her cooking.
"Yes ma'am, I surely am. This here's been a mighty long journey without my horse. 'Fraid I had to put her down 'n have been on foot ever since."
"Sorry to hear that son, where are ya'll headed to?"
"Richmond, ma'am."
"Well that's one long trip ahead. There's a stable down the road where ya'll can rent yurself a fine horse, reasonable rates."
After finishing his food, having accepted a second helping, she showed him to his room. Two flights up well-worn stairs that creaked with each step, Jeff was eager to get some rest. "Much obliged ma'am."
"Breakfast is served at seven sharp. We have a full house, so ya'll had best be getting down on time!"
As Jeff closed his eyes he mentally reviewed the layout of the hotel and the street leading to it. He could hear muted conversation coming from the room across the hall mixed with muted snoring from the room opposite the wall where his bed was located.
Sleep descended with ease despite the astonishing fact that history wasn't only being made, but remade as well. He could scarce believe his role.
Shouting, screaming, gruff voices of men yelling harsh commands in the hallway awoke Jeff with a start. Pulling on his pants and shirt he opened the door cautiously. He partially opened the door to survey the hallway, chaotic with people moving in every direction. Somebody kicked his door open - knocking him to the ground.
Two large men also dressed in Confederate uniforms grabbed Jeff by both arms, lifting him to his feet. Roughly pushing him out to the hallway, he just barely maintained his footing.
This seemed to be some kind of a raid, which didn't make sense. As he stumbled into the hallway, still trying to gain solid footing, he saw another soldier push a woman face-first into a wall. Breaking free from the two men securing him Jeff made a move to protect this woman - placing himself between her and the soldier strong-arming her.
An excellent fighter, Jeff could easily have taken this animal. Seconds into the fight though, the other two soldiers came to the aid of their comrade significantly tipping the balance of power. Delivering and receiving several well-landed blows Jeff heard an explosion a millisecond before he experienced a searing pain tear through one of his legs, followed by the sensation of warmth running down the inner thigh.
Lightheaded, he realized
that he was rapidly losing consciousness as he slumped to the floor, completely unable to help the woman who was hauled away in what appeared to be thick iron shackles. No longer able to help her he found that he was equally incapable of helping himself as he lost mastery over his own thoughts. Before completely passing out he felt hands slip in under his armpits, raising him slightly to be dragged down the stairs, heels of his feet bumping with each stair descended, matching the descent of awareness into a blissful void.