Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (diy ebook reader TXT) 📕

He looked at me and didn’t shut his eyes. After a moment of silence, he seemed to have come to a decision and in a hoarse voice, he croaked, “Planes, not now. Buildings, yes!”

“And when is this going to happen?” I insisted, then added, “I know you’re in pain, Jonathan. I know you’ve been through a lot. But this is really important. Think hard. When are they planning on hitting the planes?”

“Today. They are planning on blowing up the buildings today. Not the planes,” he insisted. “I sat inside the cupboard and heard them talking about it.”

“When are they going to blow up the planes!?” I urged.

“On Thanksgiving. Then the planes flying to Israel will be hit.” I saw he was trying very hard to remember all the details. His eyes were focused on a single spot beyond the camera, and his forehead wrinkled in concentration. “No, I misspoke… Planes belonging to companies flying to Israel will be hit.”

Under the table, my leg started to move of its own accord, faster and faster. It sounded impossible, but we were talking about Yassin Graham the ninth. I turned to the embassy worker and asked, “Is he healthy enough for questioning or no?” I hoped he couldn’t sense the tension in my voice.

“I can’t say he is at a hundred percent. He lost consciousness and when he awoke, he asked if we had managed to stop the terror attack on the buildings yet…”

“If he is right…God help us all,” I said. The look on the Israeli’s face said that he agreed.

“When can I see my parents?” Jonathan asked, and the embassy worker and I were both suddenly reminded that he was just a boy, and not just the bearer of bad news.

“They’re on their way here,” the Israeli promised him. “We are doing everything we can to get them here as soon as possible.”

“Jonathan,” I continued, “Do you have any idea which buildings they were talking about?”

“The buildings adjacent to the Israeli consulates or the consulates themselves. I didn’t quite understand. They have different plans for each building in every city, but the plan that I managed to hear was that after the first set of shootings the security forces will arrive at the scene and then they will be shot at as well.”

“Do you know which buildings exactly?”

“No,” he answered impatiently. “I was locked up in the cupboard. I couldn’t see what they saw, I just listened to their conversation.”

A shiver ran down my back. If the boy was right, the disaster was going to be much bigger than we expected. “Jonathan, try to concentrate and we’ll start from the beginning,” I said, glancing at my watch. It was five after 10. At noon, all the embassies would be open across the States. Some would be just opening and others just closing. Could the security forces in the New York embassy manage to warn all the others?

***

“There were a few people. The guy that kidnapped me tried to help me afterwards. His men called him ‘Murat’ or ‘Boss’. There was one named Yassin and he…” I saw he shuddered at the thought of him and he paused, not wanting to continue.

“We caught him.” I tried to calm the boy, and added, “Yassin is in custody and well-guarded now. You have nothing to fear from him.”

“I am not worried. I am disgusted.” He said shortly. “He tried petting me and said it was a pity I wasn’t a bit younger and smaller. When I tried to push him away, he beat me and broke my foot.”

“Do you prefer to concentrate on their conversation?”

“Yes. Definitely.” He relaxed a bit. Once again, he focused his eyes on a spot on the wall, trying to delve into his memory, and when he was sure of his thoughts, he started talking. “Yassin said that the building opposite him was the building he was going to blow up. The building had the number 800 written on it. They knew that the consulate was on the 14th floor and they had planned on putting snipers in good positions with their special rifles to shoot at anyone approaching the consulate.”

A woman came into the room, handed Jonathan a can of Coca Cola and walked out. He took the can, opened it and took a long sip. His face glowed with satisfaction, like someone long deprived of the simple pleasures in life. When the boy set the can back down, he embarrassedly said, “Sorry,” a shy smile crossing his lips. For the first time I saw his resemblance to Guy.

“There is nothing to apologize for.” I smiled back. “Now, what else was mentioned in this conversation?”

“I am just saying everything I heard. I don’t know more than that.”

“Okay,” I answered, nodding my head vigorously.

“Yassin mentioned that the terror attack was going to be in a number of cities simultaneously. New York, Washington, Los Angeles, Philly, Miami and Boston, but I suppose that there were other cities too because I heard him say that the list was long.” He took another sip of his drink and added, “An attack may occur in each of the cities. He definitely spoke of sniper shootings in these attacks.”

“Let’s get back to the attacks on the aircrafts,” I guided him. “What do you remember about that conversation?”

He was quiet, as if trying to arrange his memory. The typist next to me also took a pause. As if enlightened, Jonathan started talking again. “He said that there would be attacks on a few planes on their way to Israel and that it would happen on Thanksgiving. He is planning to blow them up, on their way to Israel, all at the same time, to scare the world.”

After a few minutes of silence, I asked, “Do you remember anything else?”

“I remember a whole lot… For instance, that they spoke about special bullets for these special rifles that someone supplied them with. These bullets are supposed to penetrate impenetrable objects, but also if they don’t