~ ~ ~
As the White House staff evacuated, returning home to spend these last moments with their families, shock and disgust were forced on their disbelieving minds. D.C. was turning into an inferno. Mobs crowded the streets and highways. They blocked any moving car with firebombs, bodies of the dead and dying, shouts of obscenities, rocks and any other projectiles readily available. People inside the doomed vehicles were pulled out to the street and beaten mercilessly, their belongings and hastily packed survival supplies ripped from clutched hands.
Rolling plumes of black smoke, as if from the nostrils of ominous dragons, arose skyward from every direction throughout the city. Similar columns of smoke could be seen at a distance in all directions, evidence that suburbs were engulfed in flame and mob rule. Washington D.C. was burning to the ground. So too were New York City's five Burroughs, Los Angeles, Denver, Miami, Las Vegas, Phoenix, and every other city of major or minor note. Similar views were to be seen throughout the industrialized world. Only small, outlaying and inconsequential rural areas escaped this initial wave of the conflagration soon to close in on them, too.
In his opulent palace the obese, baby-faced leader of North Korea took in the news of the global devastation with sadistic pleasure, plotting how he could position his military to take over the rest of Asia, spreading his control outward from there. First, though, he would crush the South Koreans for the audacity of not recognizing his authority and supremacy. Before completing this twisted daydream of world domination a blinding flash, brighter than a thousand suns, overwhelmed his vision a millisecond before he and his palace were vaporized into so many atoms.
'Mushroom clouds' of nuclear detonations blossomed in the horizon of the eastern seaboard of the United States, then America's breadbasket, then finally illuminating the west coast.
Parents took the lives of their children, then themselves. Those not so fortunate as to have means of any type of self-delivery that wouldn't traumatize their children, did their best to hide from the mobs, hoping prevailing winds wouldn't carry nuclear fallout over their heads. Nobody knew for sure how many bombs fell, or exactly where, television and radio broadcasts were long since silenced. The Internet went down shortly after its older media siblings.
The last videos and photos posted before the demise of the Net were unlike any nightmare harbored by humanity before. Death by some kind of bio agent or toxin, followed by mob rule and carnage, topped off with nuclear holocaust, bade farewell to this dying source of information.
Was the first attack carried out by the same government which unleashed nuclear Armageddon? It came as no surprise that a number of religious radicals posted their Internet claims that this was God's vengeance on a wicked, corrupt world. The Rapture would carry only "saved" Christians up into the heavens while a vengeful God smote the remaining sinners with the wrath of His might.
"If they are in heaven" a cynic responded in a post, "they'd better get themselves up higher than the reach of the mushroom clouds."
There were a very few pockets of human, animal and plant survivors. Such were mostly limited to those whose natural environments, or work, took them to the extremities of the north and south poles, as well as in vessels capable of surviving the lower reaches of the seas for military or scientific purposes.
For the human species it was radioactive food supplies and water, starvation, insanity, suicide, or murder at the hands of others fearful of losing limited supplies that would reduce the thin number of survivors to zero.
Weeks later no life would be found on any meter of land. Not even cockroaches roamed the land, previously rumored by amateur scientists and the gullible to be able to withstand a radioactive environment. In time the bodies of fish and whales floated to water's surface, bloated, then sank for a final submerge to the depths of the steaming oceans, all of which would slowly turn to freezing cemeteries of water.
If the Darwinian view of evolution held any validity, eons from now it would be a losing bet that any form of intelligence would again postulate it - at least not on the desolate planet once coined, "The Blue Marble," a title given a photograph of the Earth taken in 1972 by the crew of the Apollo 17 spacecraft.
From the highest atmosphere to the lowest oceanic trench life was eliminated, the planet a barren wasteland. Amino acids capable of bonding could be found, but they would degrade as the super heated atmosphere of poisoned, radio active gases slowly leached into space - to be followed by the equally toxic remaining waters that once were the life-giver to the planet.
Table of Contents
33. Change of Plans
"Everyone has a plan 'till they get punched in the mouth." - Mike Tyson
Suburb Of Northwest Tehran 1936
Jeff at once enjoyed and anguished throughout the time he spent in this delightful suburb of Tehran - teaming with some of the best people he had ever met in his life.
His first day in Persia, the people reminded him of the Brazilians of his youth that he found himself sometimes thinking in Portuguese. Aside from the era, language, clothing, and lack of Samba music, this area wasn't unlike the sights and sounds of Brazil when he served as a missionary in that magnificent country.
Jeff felt a degree of anguish about this very different mission. Before it was his pleasure to bring joy and fresh hope to the people of Brazil, especially those mired in poverty. Now it was to bring a life of radical change to the futures of two innocent youth.
Jeff knew he couldn't jeopardize this mission. His own world and time in future history stood with its toes dangling over a dangerous and bottomless precipice with the ground already crumbling into an abyss should he fail.
He knew that were he too soft, or too kind, in this mission he risked possibly altering the lives of Ghasem's grandfather and Abd's grandmother, but not actually preventing their marriages - thus not preventing the births and ensuing destruction that the two lead terrorists were to let loose on so many.
In the case of Martin McGlothlin, there was no ambiguity, no moral indecision. The ancestor that Stauffenberg assassinated was himself pure evil. But this boy, the yet-future grandfather of Ghasem was pure, innocent, and full of life. To alter his future which was a happy one, potentially bringing him a lifetime of sadness was anathema to Jeff. Doing the same with Abd's grandmother in Egypt was an equally distressing thought.
Making it a matter of prayer, Jeff considered his options - but none came to mind. It seemed as if the very heavens were closed to him. Surely the angels surrounding the majestic throne of God hid their faces from him in shame. Jeff felt utterly alone.
That afternoon, while discussing the pharmaceutical business with a doctor running a small pediatric care clinic from his house, the man asked Jeff about education opportunities in the United States. His son wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, the doctor felt that he would have better opportunities were the boy were to receive his medical doctorate from an American institution.
How often answers to prayer come from unexpected sources! He grabbed onto an idea that just might work. It definitely would work if he were precise in the timing and administration of the plan. Nothing was to be left to the vagaries of chance.
Finishing his business with the doctor Jeff gave him the names of two medical colleges he knew to be in existence in this time period before taking his leave.
Returning to his hotel he called the parents of Ghasem's grandfather from the guest phone in the lobby to see if he could visit them in the evening, explaining that he would be departing the country in a few days. They were delighted and invited him to dinner.
"How nice of you to come by."
"Thank you, I appreciate the invitation to join you in your evening meal. When you have to travel as much as I do for work, home cooking is always welcome!"
"Please, sit down."
"Thank you. If I may get right to it . . . I want to ask you to consider something. Your son is very intelligent."
"That's kind of you to say" the boy's father r
esponded.
"In the United States, there is an excellent program for exceptionally intelligent boys. I sent a telegram inquiring about available space for your son as a student. As you can see in this response they would be able to accommodate him without a problem but classes start in less than two weeks. I'm certain you would be able to find housing and employment easily. I can't emphasize enough what a great opportunity this would be for him."
"This is a boarding school?"
"No, not a boarding school. He would live with you."
"We've already discussed giving our son an American education. Money wouldn't be a problem. But this is all so sudden!" The tone of the boy's mother was that of excitement and a hint of anxiety.
"Yes it's sudden I know. I hope you'll consider it. Not only would it open opportunities for your son's future, it would also expand your professional contacts considerably."
The evening passed pleasantly. As the discussion continued, the parents seemed to be convincing each other that not only should they do this, they could. Both wanted to see the United States. To have a son educated there would add to their already high profile here, where their family was considered pillars of the community.
Jeff bid them farewell at the end of the evening, returning to his hotel room relieved that this plan just might work. Time will tell. Funny, he reflected, how words such as time continually come unbidden to one's mind in circumstances such as this.
Two days later, while packing his belongings, there was a knock on Jeff's door.
"Sala'am!"
"Wa aleichem asala'am habibi! What brings you here?"
"I wanted to say 'good-bye', and to let you know we booked a steamer from Borsa'id to go to America." Seeing the questioning look on Jeff's face, he realized this name would be unfamiliar to him.
"Forgive me, 'Borsa'id' in English is called 'Port Said.' We leave in three days. My wife already has the entire house 'on wheels' as they say, getting things in boxes and crates. We contacted the school, they have acquired temporary accommodations for us until we find housing more to our style."
By that Jeff knew he meant a mansion, but was too well mannered to say it aloud.
"I'm so happy for the three of you. It is an adventure you will always hold near and dear to your hearts."
"Thank you, yes. Our boy is saying his farewells to his friends now. We haven't told him yet, as he will be very upset, but we have decided to remain in America until he matriculates from university."
"That will be many years from now, are you sure?"
"Yes, we are sure. My wife and I will return here from time-to-time. I expect to open a branch of my business there, leaving my brother to manage it here. Thank you for this suggestion, we owe you much."
"You are very welcome."
"If you are ever in New Jersey, please come stay with us, you and your wife. Our home will always be your home."
"It would be our honor and pleasure." Jeff smiled as they hugged.
"If you can wait a couple of more days, perhaps we can travel to Egypt together?"
"Thank you for the offer, I would like that very much but I have a tight schedule to which I must attend. Perchance you will see me in Cairo before continuing on to the port?" Jeff wrote the name of the Cairo hotel in which he already booked a room.
"Yes, if we have time. Our schedule, too, is also very compressed if our son is to make his first day of the scholastic year."
"If not, please send me a telegram so that I can rest assured your family arrived safely. I expect to be in Cairo for two weeks, perhaps three."
Table of Contents
34. Witnesses to Desolation
"I have many times asked myself whether there can be more potent advocates of peace upon earth through the years to come than this massed multitude of silent witnesses to the desolation of war." - King George V
The Project Facility, Former State of Israel
Each of the facilities housing the different protocols of The Project were protected against changes in the timeline by a temporal shielding. Additionally The Project founders felt other preemptive protections to be in order. Though deep underground, in bunkers capable of withstanding a direct nuclear blast, each facility was protected by a Faraday Cage, in the event of an Electromagnetic Pulse such as a nuclear bomb detonated high in the atmosphere, or a Coronal Mass Projection from the sun. Either of these EMPs would render useless all unprotected electronics.
When news of the first deaths caused by the terrorists came to the attention of the Prime Minister, he contacted Lt. General Aharonson to have her evacuate the above-ground members of each facility underground. Then the General was to take whatever course necessary to defend the nation - short of that, to take revenge against her enemies.
Israeli war planes first flew over known missile launch areas in the Gaza and West bank to destroy their launchers, at the same time taking out launch sites and the terrorists' headquarters in Lebanon to decapitate the Hezbollah, the Syrian side of the Golan Heights, the lawless areas of Egyptian-controlled Sinai Peninsula, and the nuclear sites of Iran.
Iran already had nuclear missiles, missiles the world - lead by the absurdly named United Nations - proclaimed to yet be years away. The Israeli government knew the precise location of each. Evading anti-aircraft defenses of the terrorists and terror-sponsoring nations, the Israeli air force eliminated the offense/defense capabilities of each, then commenced an offensive attack. Were Israel to fall their sworn enemies would not be allowed to plunder what remained. If any of the Jewish population survived, the military would see to it that no other nation would be capable of mounting an attack against them.
Panicked families outside the walls of the facilities fulfilled the first prophecies of Ghasem, which Abd and Abdel made during their Sat-Com conference call. With dizzying speed hospitals and clinics were filled to capacity; unable to cope with the dead and dying. Medical professionals, Magen David Adom ambulance drivers and emergency crew died along with their patients, causing high-speed crashes on streets and highways. Mass panic multiplied and accelerated the scythe of the reaper of death, relentlessly hewing the living in wide swaths.
Though the compounds of each of the facilities were walled-off to the outside world, complete with armed guard towers to further ensure protection of the residents, it was impossible to prevent breathing the air itself.
When people started dropping to the ground, dead or writhing in the final contorted fits of death, doors granting passage to the underground bunker-fortresses were closed and sealed.
Through these thick steel doors muted thuds could be heard while those barred from entry banged with their fists, pleading admission. Sounds from the fists gave way to silence as the final pocket of survivors in the compound above ground lost control of their bowels, lungs, and vision - finally and mercifully succumbing to a death none could have expected as they ate their breakfasts, looking forward to celebrations of the High Holidays.
Moshe maintained contact with the other facilities as long as he could. He and Rachael sat glumly in his office, neither of them speaking. His wife was already in the bunker when Moshe received the first warning of trouble. A knock on the door, a list was handed to Moshe of those who made it down into the safety of bunker. The Stauffenbergs were not found on the list; neither was her family. The dead who remained above ground were tragic proof that The Project, on which the nation's final hope rested, appeared to have been a complete failure.
Moshe wanted to evacuate everybody to safety hours earlier. He had no solid evidence, but his gut instinct told him they already ran out of time. He was told by the Prime Minister to wait, to not cause a needless panic. To his shame he did as he was told. So much blood on his hands. Moshe felt his chest tighten, his breathing labored, his left arm limp from a dull pain. The heart attack his cardiologist predicted chose this moment to assert itself.
He asked Rachael to help him to the fold-down cot, his new desk and center of operation.
/>
"How long has Jeff been gone?" He already knew but needed to hear her voice as much as she needed to keep her mind occupied.
"It's been over six days. Dr. Levin."
"'Dr. Levin', not 'Moshe'" he thought. Was it stress, or did she blame him for the loss of her family and countless others?
"Last time he returned in just over two weeks but he was wounded, seriously wounded. What could have happened this time? He's not in a country in the midst of war or any kind of conflict."
"Rachael, he may have been killed in an automobile accident or something similar. I should have listened to Ashkelon and sent two people back, given what happened to Jeff in Virginia, but there just wasn't time . . . just wasn't time." Moshe repeated the last words quietly, more to himself than her.
They remained silent, the stillness only broken as information came in. News was slowing to a trickle, finally there was nothing at all. This was to be expected, there was nobody left outside to send news.
"It appears that only those in bunkers capable of filtering air down to a fraction of a micron and absorbing the hit of a nuclear device, are all that remain of the State of Israel." Rachael was receiving and assessing details of the last reports, before they came to a stop. "People in such bunkers will survive only as long as food and water last." A doctor from the infirmary looked after Moshe, hooking him up to a heart monitor as he was being stabilized.
"It was a close call sir, but you'll get through it." Closing the door quietly behind him as he exited, the physician wondered if he gave Dr. Levin welcome news, or pronounced a curse.
"Rest now, there's nothing more to do."
"Thank you, Rachael. I think I'll close my eyes for a few minutes. Do me a favor, don't let my wife know about this."
Rachael's thoughts went to her family, hoping they didn't suffer too long or too much. Once news of the premature release of the bio agents reached the government, it was too late. She earlier asked her husband to come with their children to stay at the facility compound housing.
Having been given authorization to tell him about the situation, Rachael was allowed to go, with an escort of two Shin Bet agents and two soldiers, to her home in Ramat Gan to speak with Yishai personally, as this was too delicate a matter to discuss over the phone.
His reaction to the news was as she expected. Strength of the man she had married, coupled with the common sense and caution one would expect of a good father. He agreed to transfer their family to the compound before the start of the High Holidays so they could be safely together for the celebrations. Mostly, though, both figured that if an attack were imminent it would be during the holidays. Were this the case the terrorists, would launch their attack while people were at temple in prayer.
Arriving at the compound, her husband and children settled into their new house. It was difficult for the children, who were looking forward to being with their friends during the holiday season. More difficult was getting them there in the first place without any explanation. "Because I said so" had, for years, no longer worked.
How did she fail to foresee this? It was expected by all that the bio agents were to be released at nightfall, not during the day. Many speculated as to the change in the terrorists' schedule, but no answer seemed reasonable. The one speculation she thought made some sense was that the terrorists waited until the American eastern seaboard headed into the early evening hours to strike, so as to cripple their military response before hitting Israel. This way, too, the Israelis would be more complacent, continuing to believe that the strike was yet two days away as previously thought. Just as the Israeli people were awakening to a new day, the Americans were already dying, with the plagues just then being released on Israel.
This made some sense but in the end didn't matter one iota. As with the Yom Kippur War the Israeli government knew the enemy was about to strike, yet the government and military were slow to respond, miscalculating and even dismissing some of the intelligence that pointed to an attack. In this case the intelligence was accurate; the government went to great lengths to protect the nation, and other nations as well. Ultimately it wasn't enough.
As seconds turned to minutes, it became evident that Jeff failed in his mission. The temporal shielding, as well as the fortress of a bunker that could withstand a direct nuclear hit, if Jeff were still alive in the past he would be able to return to this time. He should have returned by now.
What went wrong?
Rachael quietly slipped out of the room as Moshe started to snore. She was glad he could find some rest. His wife came in the room a few minutes earlier. True to her word Rachael didn't tell her about what happened. The heart monitor had, at Moshe's insistence, been removed. His wife gave a little start, staring at him and then looking questioningly back at the exiting Rachael. Rivka knew something was wrong but chose to sit at her husband's side rather than demand answers.
Rachael walked down the corridor, then took the elevator three floors lower to the military floor. Knocking at the door, she was admitted to the Command Room.
Video feeds on monitors fixed to the walls of General Aharonson's Command Room continued to transmit scenes from around the country. The cameras were protected from EMPs by the same type of Faraday Cage that protected the electronic equipment of the facilities, as well as other governmental and military installations in the country.
The scenes were horrific. Fires everywhere. Somehow, amazingly, a few people survived the initial attacks. They were walking in what appeared to be a daze. Of the six survivors that were picked up by the video feeds, one appeared to have gone insane, ranting and screaming at the dead bodies strewn about on the street. Taking a weapon from the body of a soldier, he started firing at imagined targets in the air, then turned the weapon on himself.
Everybody in the room seemed to be watching the monitors as if in a daze. The soldiers maintained their professionalism, but on their faces Rachael saw hopeless resignation. Their families, gone, their nation, gone, any hope obliterated.
Two camera feeds went dark at the same time other cameras were picking up a bright flash of light. Iran, they realized, was able to get a nuclear bomb into the air - reaching its target untouched by the "Iron Dome" rocket interceptor system deployed throughout the country. The preemptive strike of Israeli jets into Syria and Iran were 99% successful. In a tiny nation surrounded by enemies sworn to their destruction, the one percent miss was the same as a 100% failure.
Another bright light, three more monitors went dark. Iran may or may not have launched, they would never know. Likely it was Iran but equally likely, having witnessed at least one more nuclear detonation, the bombs could be originating from any other country with nuclear capability.
Heartbroken, emotionally shattered, Rachael was grateful her family wasn't with her, had not survived only to starve to death so far below ground.
Whatever the origin of the bombs, one thing was certain - those survivors who managed to make it to the underground safety of their respective facility bunkers were now, in reality, entombed. The remaining video feeds went dark.
Table of Contents
35. Exits and Entrances
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages." - William Shakespeare
Cairo, Egypt
Confirming that the family of Ghasem's grandfather did indeed begin their journey to Cairo, Jeff boarded his flight to Egypt.
With the first part of his mission accomplished, he contemplated the needs that would be required of the second part. Already, he took much longer than expected. He wasn't overly concerned though he knew the length of absence would be cause for concern in his time.
What did concern him was how to keep the young girl from marrying her then future husband. No plan presented itself to his mind. The entire trip he invented scenario after scenario, each playing out to their natural, if invented, conclusion. Each ultimat
ely being unacceptable. He realized he'd just have to see how events played themselves out.
Passing over the topography below, it was interesting how the landscape changed, almost as if by the very demarcations of national borders of the era.
A long journey concluded, Jeff found himself near the very center of Cairo. People selling food and water to the travel-weary passengers were to be found everywhere - most of them children. Jeff made his way through the crowded terminal, encumbered by the luggage he elected to keep near him. For the sake of comfort, he purchased a ticket for an extra seat so as not to have to stow the luggage in the train's baggage car.
Reaching what appeared to be the main street, or at least a main street, he bought a falafel and soda from a vendor on the corner. How different this vendor was from any in his time! The man was pleasant, unhurried, even helpful. Based on his recommendation, Jeff hailed a taxi cab, giving the man the name of the hotel as his destination. The taxi accelerated abruptly, executing turns with alarming speed, honking horn seeming to have replaced brakes.
The hotel was nothing as the vendor described it. Run-down, even ugly, Jeff asked the taxi driver if he had any other suggestions. Whisked away to another part of the city he paid his fare, the driver helping him carry his luggage into the hotel lobby. Not as nice as the place that hosted him in Tehran, it was nonetheless more than acceptable.
Check-in completed, Jeff made his way to his room. No elevator, he walked up the four flights of stairs, hefting his belongings on his back and under one arm as the hand of the other gripped the railing with each step. Reaching his floor, he walked the time-worn carpet hallway to his room, naturally to be found at the far end.
The wallpaper of the corridor was yellowed, peeling badly. The unkempt condition of the dank, molding corridor did little to prepare him for his room. A large dark spot on the ceiling greeted him as he entered. At the entry he saw old, exposed pipes running the length of the wall, though near the ceiling, where his bed was situated. Every once in a while, the pipes sang out as if they were banging together. He figured this would probably happen every time a toilet was flushed, or a shower or sink was in use. Considering the appearance of other hotels he passed, this was probably as good as any. The smell of mildew and mold blossoming on wallpaper even older than that of the corridor permeated the room.
With resignation, Jeff unloaded his burden on the bed that creaked under the weight of the luggage, more loudly protesting as he settled in to rest and organize his thoughts. The bedspread and pillow case had a nice smell, as if they were washed and then allowed to dry outside, in open air. Dank and moldy, at least his new accommodations were clean. In Brazil he'd lived in far worse. He concluded it best to man up, stop mentally whining about the room. He only had to sleep there for a few days, not live there the rest of his life.
Eyes awake! How long did he sleep? The mid-afternoon sun had already relinquished to the dark of night, how long ago he had no idea. Jeff bathed - there were no showers after all, just stand-alone bathtubs with claw-like "feet," then put on a fresh change of clothes. It felt good to be freshly scrubbed after such a long trip. Next priority was to get some food, thinking on an empty stomach never served him well in the past. On the taxi drive here he saw, near the hotel, several restaurants and street cafés.
Descending the flight of stairs, Jeff was going to ask the man at the desk for suggestions to where to eat, find a map of the city, along with other needful things he would require during his stay. Seeing the surly look on his face, he felt it best to strike out on his own, allowing the chips of fortune to fall where they may.