CHAPTER 1

March 18th

Spring was slow coming to this part of northern Pakistan,and the cold March winds coming down off the mountainsstill stung with the biting cold of winter, bitter and harshto anyone unprepared for the vagaries of weather in this part of theworld.

The two Mossad agents struggled head-on onto the wind, wrappedup in their thick sheepskins. Their eyes stung as they trudged wearilyonwards. The village could be seen in the distance, and a young boytended a herd of goats in one of the nearby fields, but he paid the menlittle heed. A village like many others in this region, but one in whichthey finally hoped to find their prey. If it had a name, it wasn't on anymap they knew of, situated on the northern bank of the Indus Rivervalley. To the south, the peaks of Nanga Parbat could be seen, stillcovered in snow. It was a bleak and inhospitable place.

Mullah Ali Bin Wazir was one of the last surviving Taliban whohad sought sanctuary in northern Pakistan, where many of the peopleopenly supported his former regime, still declaring their allegiance forBin Laden. This was a volatile part of the world, as Bin Laden's followersfrequently crossed into Kashmir, engaging Indian forces and generallyfomenting unrest in a region inhabited by two religions, where bothnuclear powers claimed sovereignty. It was now a very dangerous partof the world.

Bin Wazir had fled here from Afghanistan, seeking to consolidatea new power-base, whilst avoiding the long arms of the AmericanPresident in his self-declared `War on Terror'. Like most Americans hetalked big, but delivered very little, and the Mullah thought himselfsafe here, for he knew that President Musharraf would not dare allowany American operation within Pakistan's own borders, for fear of anuprising against his regime by the more extreme religious elements, allfollowers or supporters of Al Qaeda.

Israel did not respect international borders when it came toanti-terrorist operations, and a quiet word from the American CIA wasall they needed to mount an operation of their own within Pakistan.President Musharraf was indeed aware of it, but would never publiclyadmit it. He was playing a delicate political game, only too aware ofthe extremists within his own country who were trying to underminehis rule. Should the mission become public knowledge, he wouldpublicly condemn the Israelis, who knew they walked a thin line acrossinternational opinion. They had been walking such a thin line eversince the foundation of the modern nation of Israel, and they weren'tafraid to cross it if the need arose.

Ali Bin Wazir was one of Osama Bin Laden's Military Commanders,responsible for planning a number of atrocities. Lots of differentnationalities had died when those two mighty towers fell. A lot of themhad been Jews.

* * *

For all the unrest and claims of persecution from the Muslimworld, 95% of the world's terrorists were Muslim. That was a fact thatcouldn't be argued. Religion was ever an excuse for acts which its ownfaith forbade, yet one man's martyr was another's terrorist.

Al Qaeda was worldwide these days, as the world emasculated itselfby allowing the terrorist organisation to proliferate, hiding behindsupposedly `legal' front-organisations. Much of the funding came fromthe rich Saudi families that Bin Laden was connected to, who lookedupon Israel's very existence as an affront.

Too many countries opened their borders too freely, and both legaland illegal, immigrants or refugees were allowed free access. Not manyeven pretended allegiance to their new homelands, but continued tolive their lives the way they had always done, knowing they were freefrom persecution under many countries' laws. Muslims now spreadover the earth much further and more freely than they had ever doneunder the Ottoman Empire.

Many Western countries gave too much weight to ethnic andminority groups, and politicians were too afraid of losing votes to be seento do anything against any of these groups, yet in places like Americaand even England, whites were now considered ethnic minorities insome towns and cities.

Islam was slowly being allowed to spread across the face of theglobe almost unhindered, and it's followers were intent on spreading it'sdoctrine by any means necessary, for it was a very unforgiving religionand would suffer no others.

For sheer fanaticism, Islam couldn't be beaten, because childrenwere made to learn the Koran before being given any other education.Indeed, some never got any further education, as the Koran was supposedto contain all the knowledge its followers needed. Islam looked on therest of the world's religions with scorn, particularly the Christian faith,often ridiculing the New Testament as a prophet's versions of the Wordof God, whilst their own Koran itself was looked upon as the ActualWord of God, though Muslims conveniently forgot to mention that itis "as told by the Prophet Mohammed" so no more reliable, really.

All Muslims were devout, at least in public, and most sincerelybelieved in its doctrines, sure that their reward for carrying out Allah'sWill would be a place in Paradise. Allah's Will, unfortunately, was notusually dictated by Allah himself, but by a variety of Mullahs, whowere more practical than devout. Allah's Will was more hearsay, if truthbe told, but none dare disagree openly with a Mullah's interpretation,for fear of reprisals by the rest of the Faithful. Blind faith was neverblinder.

Anyone critical of Islam could be condemned by a Fatwah, for theKoran told that it was a Muslim's duty to slay any and all followers ofany other religion, if they couldn't be converted to Islam, and thus savetheir souls. Conversely, anyone converting from or denouncing Islam,automatically sentenced himself to death in the eyes of the Mullahs.

* * *

The two Mossad agents knew what their fate would be if they werecaught on such a clandestine operation deep in a Muslim country.Yet, knowing that, they had volunteered for the mission, and hadbeen dropped into Northern Pakistan at night by one of the AmericanBlack Hawk helicopters flying covertly. Three other teams wereoperating across the area, but their whereabouts were unknown, andthe single-burst one time radio they carried was to be used only forextraction.

They had followed the trail diligently for the last four days, listeningand observing, fluent in the northern dialects. Bin Wazir and one of histhree wives had been staying in this village, stationary finally, to attenda meeting of some kind. They would observe this meeting, and thenmake a decision on whether to take out their target or not.

* * *

Inside the house, Bin Wazir and his followers enjoyed the warmthof a fire, whilst listening to the wind outside. The old man felt the coldmore in his bones these days, and he sat close to the flames. He stillhad plenty of fat on those bones, though a couple of old wounds achedunless he kept well wrapped up against the elements, and he needed astick to walk, these days. Of average height, he was still dwarfed by hisguest, who looked taller, even sitting down.

The house had windows of glass, keeping out the elements, unlikemost of the dwellings in the town, which put up shutters in thecolder months. Bin Wazir had a good view out across the valley andsurrounding hills. So did his bodyguards.

The Mullah took the first small cup of coffee from his wife andsipped, nodding to the only other man in the room, who sat on thebroad sofa across from him. Masoud Al Asmi took up his own cup, anddrank also, though he now had a taste for western coffee in preferenceto this strong bitter brew. Al Asmi dressed in western clothes, and hecould pass for a Westerner with ease, which was one of the reasons hehad been put forward for this assignment. Trim the beard, tidy the hair,and he could pass for any number of different nationalities.

The woman offered him fruits, dates and nuts, which Masoudrespectfully sampled. She left them on the low table when Bin Wazirdismissed her from the room to talk in private with his guest.

"The West thinks itself strong, secure even, now that it has brokenour power base in Afghanistan," Bin Wazir began. "If they know of ourreach across the world, they will certainly not publicise it," he chuckledto himself. Al Asmi nodded. "But the world weakens itself from within.It is corrupt, and has not our strength. Islam is the word of the one trueGod, and this `War on Terror' will not silence us. Islam is the one truereligion, and as the rest of the world wages war on us, we in turn willwage war on them!" Bin Wazir's eyes blazed, reflecting the inner furyhe felt. "Islam is about to wage war on the very religions of the world,"he told Al Asmi. "Centuries ago, the Christian Pope authorised a HolyCrusade to control trade across the Mediterranean, and the Moors andTurks were expelled from their conquests in Northern Europe. Ourreligion suffered serious setbacks at the hands of these heathens," hewent on, fervently. "It is time we embarked on a Jihad of our own, andshowed the nations of the world that our time is coming." His voice,well used to oratory, was having the right effect on Al Asmi, reachingdeep inside him. "I want you to spearhead that Jihad, Masoud Al Asmi.I want you to take the fight to the Infidel!"

* * *

The two Mossad agents befriended the boy with the goats, talking tohim fluently, with not a trace of any accent. It wasn't long before he hadrevealed to them the location of the house used by the Mullah. In theirbackpacks and within their clothing, as well as the radio, they carriedsome explosive charges, two machine-pistols, and one broken-downsniper's rifle. The lie of the land would determine how they plannedtheir assault.

* * *

"Imagine if you will, the religions of the world brought down bythe power of Islam." Bin Wazir went on. "Not just the religions of theWest but those of the East too, all of them falling in turn, as we strikeagainst them, one by one." He had vision, and no mistake, thought AlAsmi, a part of him reacting to the Mullah's fervour, and yet his westernupbringing dredged up doubts from his subconscious.

His parents, Arab father, Pakistani mother, had raised him in theEnglish town of Keighley, in North Yorkshire, where there had beenmuch racial tension, as his own race soon grew to outnumber the nativewhite community. Answering the call of the Taliban, he had made hisway to Afghanistan to fight for Bin Laden against the Americans. Afterthe rout, Bin Wazir, on hearing of his bravery and his background, hadarranged this meeting, deeming him highly suitable for the mission hewas about to bestow upon him.

"I want you to wage war, Al Asmi," Bin Wazir exclaimed. "Your firsttarget will be the Holy Catholic Church, as revenge for the Crusadeswhich drove us out of Europe those many years ago. You will take asmall squad of hand-picked men and women, and infiltrate the Italiansub-continent. Once there, you will bring that country to its knees bya series of well-coordinated strikes against the very heart of its religion,"he revealed. "Your code-name will be Torquemada, and I want you totest the faith of the Infidel like never before. Let him feel the fires ofour Inquisition."

* * *

The town-house was on the very outskirts of the sprawling village,halfway down the slope of a low range of hills. It had a commandinglook across the valley beneath it. Three cars were parked up outside thehouse. Vegetation was scarce, and there was no way the two Mossadagents could approach the house in daylight without being seen. Theycould only observe from a distance until nightfall, and even that wasdangerous, lest their attentions be noted by the villagers.

There was an abandoned car, long since burnt out, by the side ofthe road, but it would not give either of them sufficient cover in thelight of day, for there wasn't much of the bodywork left, and it was fartoo obvious.

They went back into the town, and managed to find a smallbar-cum-coffee shop on the road that led back out to the Mullah'shouse. It was the best they could do till dark. At least in here theirpresence would be disguised, and they could watch the traffic to see ifany of those cars came back along the road. It also helped shelter themfrom the bitter wind, and so was a welcome relief.

* * *

Back inside the house, Bin Wazir and Al Asmi were deep inconversation whilst the bodyguards did their rounds, alternating theirpositions every hour, lest they became too complacent watching thesame piece of terrain for too long.

"I'll need a list of operatives," Al Asmi insisted. "People who canpass themselves as Italians, or foreign exchange students. They all mustbe able to speak Italian. Fluent would be best, but not essential. Italyis a cosmopolitan country which sees a lot of tourists. It should beeasy enough to move around. Two cells of four. I'll need cars buying.No rentals. They're too easy to trace. Forged documents. Good ones.Cell-phones to communicate. Pay as you go. They can't be traced orlocated unless they know who's got them. We keep it as simple as wecan," he advised Bin Wazir, who was pleased to see the reports about theman's tactical strategies lived up to expectations. "Co-ordinated attacksin different parts of the country, which we publicise to force them toaccept their own helplessness." He indicated towns and road-systemson the map, making notations here and there as Bin Wazir looked on,nodding in agreement.

Bin Wazir smiled. "I will look forward to hearing of your exploitson CNN," he chuckled.

"What about weapons and munitions? How will they bearranged?"

"Many of the Arab nations are sympathetic to our cause, and onein particular hates Italy with a vengeance. They will assist your efforts,"he grinned. "I have already spoken to contacts in the Balkans to arrangedelivery of the more important items," Bin Wazir assured him.

"I am ready to give my life for Allah," Al Asmi assured the Mullah,who smiled knowingly.

"The home of Catholicism will be destroyed, and if it is necessary,your martyrdom will assure you of a place in Paradise," he promisedthe devout younger man.

* * *

Dusk was coming, and the three cars all passed the coffee shopwithin seconds of each other, as the two Israelis shook their heads infrustration. So near and so close, but Fate was cruel. There was only aslim chance that anyone was left in the house, but they had to checkit out.

Back out into the cold wind and dying light, they retraced theirsteps along the pitted road, seeing no lights in the house in the distance.Cautious, they approached carefully, taking their time and using whatcover there was. Finally, satisfied that if they hadn't drawn any fire bynow, they never would, they ran the last hundred yards to the house,alert as ever for anyone inside.

Controlling their breathing, they waited for nearly sixty secondsoutside the door, but could near nothing inside. One of them put hisshoulder to the door, and it fell in over, splintering the frame, andbreaking the poorly made lock.

One covered the other as they conducted a quick search of theplace, but their suspicions had proved correct. There was no one leftin the house, no clothing. Only foodstuffs had been left behind. Theysearched for information now, and any documents that the Mullah hadleft behind to reveal his plans of movements.

The upstairs rooms proved that the house was normally occupied,though the occupants had moved out to allow the place to be used byBin Wazir. Clothes still hung in the wardrobes, though westernized,and nothing like the traditional robes worn by the Mullah, so theywasted little time searching through these.

The kitchen was fully stocked, and the dishes had been left piled upin the sink for someone else to wash, as Bin Wazir and his bodyguardshad vacated the place.

The main living area was sparsely furnished. Thick carpets wererichly woven, in bright colours with some sort of hunting scene.Matching large scatter cushions were sprinkled about the room,for those who preferred more traditional seating methods than thewesternized sofa, of cheap plastic imitation leather, and the coffee tablelooked like a flat-pack from the likes of IKEA. Functional furniture,but not that expensive. Even the bulb that hung from the ceiling boreno shade, just a bare bulb.