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

able to do anything about it. When the Zionist enemy can’t react, it will be like…” He didn’t finish his sentence but closed his eyes and concentrated on playing. The people around him kept quiet, as if they had stopped breathing. He smiled, his eyes still shut. His body swayed to the rhythm of the music and, in a cold voice, he whispered to the sound of the melody, “Like pouring acid over the eyes of a heretic, in the moment before you burn him.”

He was mad. Much more so than he ever had been before. He was mad and I had to get out of there before it was too late. But the door was closed, and Yassin hadn’t signaled that the meeting was over yet. It felt as though the walls of the basement were closing in on me. I asked with studied calm, “Do you have a plan for how you’re going to do it?”

“Not entirely. But I have preliminary plans, fantasies of attacking a ground station. That would paralyze the heart of the satellite. I still don’t know if I should take over the station or blow it up. Maybe we’ll just attack the satellite itself. I don’t know yet. I’m not sure of the way, but I do know that it is going to hurt.” He was serious and for a moment seemed lucid. “It all depends on the people I manage to recruit. A cyber-attack is totally different from a physical attack.”

I said, “I understand.” I was being deliberately vague, and it must have seemed as though I wasn’t as interested as he’d have liked, because his madness immediately flared up.

“Maybe I’ll be able to recruit hackers to cause a satellite war. American satellites to attack Israeli satellites or vice versa. Divide and conquer, Murat, divide and conquer.”

“When are you planning this attack?”

He didn’t answer, so I repeated, “Yassin, when are you planning this attack?”

“In the near future,” he answered mysteriously. I didn’t like this vague time period at all.

“This isn’t a simple attack at all,” I said. I wondered if he would ask me to take part, perhaps to supply him with weapons. He liked secrecy, but if I didn’t include the Russian mafia it would be a blatant violation of my agreement with them.

Yassin laughed. He laughed so hard that he stopped playing, rolling his head back as if I had told the funniest joke and he was the sole spectator in my one-man standup comedy show.

“What is so funny?”

“It is not easy for the less successful. But it is very true for me and honestly, it is really not that difficult. There are some who have tried, but I will succeed! I just can’t allow people like you, the ones I call brother, to mess up my plan.” He gave me a warning look. A second later he smiled at me as if he had not threatened me a moment ago and added, “I will let you in on a big secret, a very well-kept secret. The attack yesterday in Paris also wasn’t easy. Some of the people were Parisians, but others I recruited myself. The same goes for the weapons. Most of the financing was mine. The timing, I decided! Now think how poetic it could be, to plan an attack on American soil next week, only a few days before Thanksgiving?” His hard look sent shivers down my spine. He added, coldly, “Whoever is left alive will have the holiday to give thanks.”

All the thoughts on terror, all the photographs from Paris which I had ignored, all of them resurfaced in my mind, and the only thing I could think of was ‘how do I get out of it?’

I asked, “So it will be before Thanksgiving?”

“Are you interested? You already have plans for the coming week?”

“I am interested in knowing.”

“You ask too many questions,” he answered in a low warning, tone, “Are you planning on leaving here and going to alert the Americans?” The seven wonders surrounding him were listening intently to our conversation. I got the feeling that they were only waiting for a small signal from him to kill me.

“Are you crazy? You are attacking Israeli targets on American soil. And me? I am running from the Americans,” I reminded him quietly. “They are looking for me because of the kidnapped Israeli kid, whose whereabouts are unknown to me at the moment.”

He ignored my hint about the kid and said, “Because the Great Satan and the Little Satan are bound together, this is nothing better than attacking the one on the other’s land. The Great Satan will not be able to supply protection. Israel will understand that it is isolated, under attack and without means of retaliation.”

I wanted to tell him that he was a megalomaniac, but we were beyond that now. He was a sociopath, the son of a British aristocrat, and megalomania was in their genes. He had chosen his path and the Islam was a tool in his hands to fulfill his devilish plans. If he didn’t have extreme Islam to hang onto, he would have become a serial killer. I didn’t want to take part in these kinds of crimes, but I knew now, since the plans had been exposed to me, that I had no choice but to offer my services. If I didn’t, I would not be allowed out of this basement alive. I put a smile on my face, which I hoped didn’t look too fake and asked, “And how can I contribute to this event?”

***

“I don’t have a lot of time. I have less than two weeks and I have many preparations to make. This is a singular opportunity.”

“How do you plan on attacking without enough intel?” I tried to use reason to dissuade Yassin from carrying out this disturbed and overly ambitious plan that I was being unwillingly dragged into.

He scowled at me, reminding me of my father when he was disappointed in me. “Murat, Murat, Murat. You