The Uvalde Raider by Ben English (great books for teens TXT) 📕

much and persist in underestimating our means.” Qassam halted to both savor the moment and to properly pronounce what he was about to say. Then in the measured manner of speech one uses to recite difficult wording he asked, “Does the chemical compound Ethyl-bispropanyl-aminoethyl-sulfanyl-methylphosphinate mean something to you?”

Ezekiel Templar thought hard for several seconds, calling upon his knowledge of chemistry and the possible compounds of such when used for munitions. When his thinking process seized upon an answer; his own eyes widened involuntarily as a vague, cruel chill near enveloped him, sweeping through both body and spirit. It took longer still to wrap his mind around the enormity of what had just been said.

“That’s some sort of weaponized chemical agent,” Ezekiel managed to respond. He did so haltingly, losing temporary command of how he said it. Qassam was smiling again.

“Yes, Colonel Templar. VX to be exact.” stated Qassam triumphantly. “By far, the deadliest weapon of its kind ever invented. A nerve agent both odorless and tasteless, and which possesses the advantage of being very slow to evaporate compared to other chemical compounds for warfare. It is said to be a hundred times more powerful than Sarin, and a mere fraction of a drop absorbed through the skin is enough to kill the average human being.”

The terrorist leader nodded to the Boeing and the blue drums situated beside the bomber. “There are five hundred gallons of VX agent in those ten plastic containers. It is enough to allow about a twenty-three-kilometer swath from one end of San Antonio to the other, with a path approximately one hundred meters wide. If you look closely, you will see that we are finishing the installation of the portable pumps, as well as the high-pressure lines needed to disperse it from your airplane. Following that, my men will don the proper protective clothing to load and secure those drums.”

“How…” Ezekiel Templar began, still trying to discipline his lurching mind against the near unimaginable horror his thought process had high centered upon.

“Do you mean how did we, a blissfully ignorant and uneducated people, obtain large quantities of such a fearsome weapon?” interrupted Yahla al-Qassam. “It is a long and involved story, Colonel. Too long and involved to tell here, and best left for the pages of future history books to describe in detail what happens tomorrow.

“But suffice to say that it was done with the assistance of both the Syrians as well as the Iraqis, along with many of our Islamic brothers in other places and countries.” Qassam leaned forward ever so slightly to accentuate what he said next. “I am curious, though. What is your perspective now of your supposed allies and enemies in any war for or against any Muslim people?”

Qassam continued to press hard, noting how the color had drained from the older man’s face. The gravity of his words were also sinking into the consciousness of the other two men before him, and their obvious discomfort and growing alarm fed his insatiable appetite to control as well as dominate.

“As Hiroshima had its Enola Gay and as Nagasaki had its Bockscar, so will San Antonio have its Uvalde Raider. Think about it Colonel, we are standing on the brink of a future that will change not only nations but the world itself. We have the weapon; we have the ability and we have the will to employ it to its full potential. Nothing will ever be the same for any of us, for the roles of the past millennium will change forever in the four- and one-half minutes it takes for that airplane of yours to cover twenty-three kilometers. Islam will begin its new ascent as has been foretold, and all our enemies will either die or be relegated to their rightful place of dhimmitude.”

The terrorist commander leaned forward still further, forcing Ezekiel Templar to look up as the old man pondered the sheer moral awfulness of what had been revealed. Qassam was not boasting idly, nor was his an empty threat. One look into his euphoric eyes and every one of the captives sitting before him had no doubt whatsoever as to his absolute sincerity.

“What do you think of my plan now, Colonel Templar?” taunted the Hezbollah leader.

Ezekiel Templar shifted his position ever so slightly on the edge of the overstuffed couch. In the expectant atmosphere of the room, the aging Texan cocked his head resignedly and raised one eyebrow while lowering the other. He looked hard at the terrorist leader looming over, his hazel eyes turning black as coal as they stared at his younger antagonist with an unmistakable aura of open disgust.

Calmly, with a composed manner that belied the sea of rancor welling up inside of him, Ezekiel Templar replied. “I think it’s the result of a twisted, too smart for his own good, mind of a murderous sonofabitch spawned by a mother who likely recoiled in horror at his birth. She should have stomped the life out of the little cockroach then, and chalked it up as a mercy killing for the betterment of all mankind.”

Ezekiel now took his own pause for full effect. Then he added, “That is what I think of your little plan, Qassam, and of you.”

CHAPTER SIX

Whatever the response that Yahla al-Qassam was expecting from Ezekiel Templar, the one he had just received was clearly not what he had in mind. The triumphant passion in the terrorist’s face changed to open surprise followed quickly by an active, venomous anger. Unable to contain the boiling rage bubbling up from within, the Hezbollah leader shrieked in a loud, primitive manner that has no understandable meaning in any language, yet conveyed more than any words could ever describe.

Everyone within earshot froze in the middle of their assigned tasks, both the men inside the room as well as those outside working on the bomber. Even his human pit viper, Mustafa,