Jihada: The Lost Scriptures Read online

  ‘What about missile 15 Theodore, the last one fired, that one cost over 300 American lives and one of the newest ships in our navy’? Mario Molinari, the President’s CIA confidant shook his head as he spoke.

  ‘I can’t really answer that one Mario; that is of course the most worrying one of all. The missile was primed and ready to launch when it exploded. If the Iranians wanted to teach us a lesson, why didn’t they blow up the other 2 ships that were involved, assuming of course that they were responsible for the other 14 explosions’?

  Mario raised his head and spoke again. ‘Theodore, you sound as if you don’t think that it was the Iranians’.

  Looking directly at Mario, and speaking in hushed tones, almost as if he expected some outsider to be listening in, Theodore said, ‘Do you mind if we leave that one until we have discussed the rest of the events; you will see why later’?

  Mario nodded in agreement.

  The President spoke, ‘Has anyone anything to add to what Theodore has just spoken about? Is there a fourth theory out there that we should consider? Personally, I find it difficult to believe that the Arabs could have moved their technology forward so quickly and overtaken us; they are a backward race of goat and camel fuckers as far as I am concerned, and as far as I am aware, only the Israelis have progressed anywhere near to that point, and I understand that they are still some way away. They have been working on every possible form of defensive shield ever since they first overran the damned country and have been a very expensive and high maintenance country for us ever since. There are times when I think that Israel’s very presence is the biggest obstacle to world peace that confronts us today, and has been for over 100 years, however, having listened to Theodore’s submission, I cannot for the life of me come up with anything better. If no one has any questions at this point, Theodore, can you please move on to the wayward planes’?

  -----

  Everyone in the room sat in stunned silence at the President’s anti Israeli comments. America had been Israel’s number one ally ever since her creation after the Second World War. Israel had in turn been America’s eyes and ears in the Middle East, and had virtually served as America’s permanently anchored aircraft carrier with which she maintained a tenuous control over the forever warring factions of the Arab world.

  Israel also controlled the American finances. All the major banks and financial houses were Jewish owned. Whilst China and the Middle East owned most of the American Government bonds, in reality they only held pieces of paper; the real money and its supply and distribution was all in Jewish hands, and had been for generations.

  The Israeli’s also owned both of the two military aircraft manufacturing companies, and the two major armament manufacturing companies that supplied The United States with all of its high technology weapons systems, including the design and manufacture of the latest generation of Cruise Missiles. America had not noticed this gradual takeover of its prized and most secretive assets. Stocks and shares were traded to the tune of billions of dollars on a daily basis, and the carefully orchestrated purchase by Investment Houses (Jewish owned) and Hedge funds (Jewish owned) had gone un- noticed. 51% was all that was needed to take control of these institutions; Israel now owned a near untraceable 90%.

  -----

  Theodore continued, ‘Certainly sir, however I have precious little to say about the wayward planes. I have no theories or explanations, logical or otherwise. There were no system failures and no instrument malfunctions. What is for certain however is that the events happened. Planes disappeared off both the radar screens and satellite tracking systems, and appeared hundreds of miles away, only to once again vanish and reappear a few seconds later, and in some cases a few minutes later at exactly the same spot where they had disappeared from in the first place. During the time that they were missing, to the point where they returned, they had not moved at all; one of the planes must have been completely motionless for 10 minutes. No matter how implausible the events may seem, both the British and the Israelis have been having similar problems’.

  Air Marshal George Cunningham spoke for the first time, ‘So far Mr. President, only American civilian flights have been affected, with just the one exception; - the Israelis have reported continuous on flight interference with their military planes, fighter bombers in particular. The reports that I have been receiving from them point to the pilots losing all form of control over their aircraft, and the plane then performing a series of advanced maneuvers not found in any training manual. There was even one report of the fighter’s weapons system being activated and a missile being fired at the Gaza Strip; the Arab nations are up in arms and are threatening retaliation. The pilot is now under lock and key for psychiatric evaluation, the poor bastard claims that he lost all control of the aircraft and the onboard computer was flying it for a few minutes before he regained control’.

  Theodore looked directly at Air Marshal Cunningham before speaking. ‘You said ‘with one exception sir’ I don’t recall seeing any reports of unexplained military interference’.

  Cunningham looked embarrassed and would not allow his eyes to catch either the President’s or Theodore’s. He cast a glance at Admiral Black before speaking , ‘At the time, Theodore, it was assumed that there had been a computer malfunction; either that, or the pilot had become unconscious due to the complicated maneuvers that he had been performing without orders. It was not deemed necessary to progress the matter, nor to order an investigation’.

  ‘Where is the pilot now Air Marshal’? The President was delighting in his discomfort.

  ‘He is under lock and key sir, pending psychiatric evaluation’.

  ‘You missed out ‘the poor bastard bit’, the President almost shouted in triumph.

  The entire room burst into spontaneous laughter; even the blushing and embarrassed Air Marshal joined in. ‘The poor bastard’ both he and everyone in the room said in near unison.

  ‘Let’s move on to the Mississippi now, before we get too bogged down with trigger happy Israelis and psychotic pilots’, the President was still laughing as he spoke, it was a triumphant laugh; never the less, it was a genuine laugh. ‘I don’t think that even your gigantic brain can come up with anything on this one Theodore, unless you wish to bring along your old mate Harry Potter’.

  Even Theodore smiled as the rest of the men in the room laughed. When the President of the United States made a joke, everyone felt duty bound to laugh. Theodore did not understand jokes. Where he came from there were no jokes.

  ‘There is quite a logical explanation for the missile’s disappearance’. The room went silent and looked on, listening in amazement as Theodore continued. ‘It is all to do with the transfer of energy into a different form. A solid mass is really only a series of energy particles bound together in a unique arrangement by chemical, electrical and magnetic attraction. Take away the energy, and you are left with nothing; absolutely nothing at all. The scientific world has known about this for years. You then simply return and rearrange the energy in its correct order, and you are left with the original solid mass. Both Newton and Einstein were aware of this but could never crack the equation and could therefore neither prove nor disprove the theory. Many years ago, this was covered by a TV program called Star Trek,- the process was performed using something called a Transporter’.

  ‘Can we do this now’? asked a bemused President, a frown creasing his forehead.

  ‘Not at the moment sir, but I see no reason why we shouldn’t be able to accomplish it within the next 2 or 3 thousand years’.

  ‘Theodore, you are being facetious, it does not become you’. The president spoke sternly, at the same time a big grin crossing his face. ‘What you really mean is that you haven’t got a fucking clue. Correct’?

  ‘Correct sir’.

  ‘All right gentlemen; let’s look at what we have so far. Without going over old ground; ground that we seem to have no knowledge what so ever about, yet ground that puts the entire security of the Un
ited States at risk; here are the facts----somewhere out there is a person - or a country - or a thing - that can now control our airplanes, our weapon systems, and possibly our nuclear missiles. Two years ago, I became President of the most powerful nation the world has ever seen: - NOW, the only reliable form of defense I can offer the country that trusted me with their security is a FUCKING BOW AND ARROW.

  WHAT IS HAPPENING?---WHO IS PULLING MY STRINGS? - ‘Admiral Black’.

  ‘Yes Sir’.

  I want the best brains that you can muster in order to sort out the Cruise Missile problem. This is the only tangible thing that we can investigate at the moment. Have one of them completely dismantled, and every single part tested over and over again. Forget test flights; I want total component testing; I am not accepting that anyone can over ride our systems; no one is so advanced: what they can do however is to build a controllable destruct component and position it somewhere within the missile. I also want everyone involved with the manufacture and assembly of the missiles investigated thoroughly. I want to know their nationality, where they were born, and what they had for fucking breakfast. I can smell a rat, and the rat wasn’t born in the USA. Pay particular attention to religion Admiral, I have a feeling that religion is at the bottom of all this’.

  The Admiral responded, ‘consider it done sir; if there is one single component that does not correspond to the blue print, I will find it; you did in fact read my mind on this one sir; as we speak, SEVERAL of the missiles are being stripped and tested’.

  ‘Thank you for your foresight Admiral’, the President was already aware of this: Mario had instigated the exercise, chosen the cruise missiles to be tested, and had kept the President fully in the picture; he needed the Defense Chiefs working with him and not for their own self interests’. The President had patted the Admiral’s head, and the Admiral had wagged his tail.

  The President looked over at Mario Molinari as he addressed him, ‘Mario, I need you to kick a few arses and rattle a few cages with your Middle East and damned Israeli contacts; why are they fucking sleeping on the job? Why have we not received any intelligence on this Cruise Missile issue? Why was I left waving my dick in the air after the Iranian non strike? You told me that you had men positioned in high places in the Military and Intelligence agencies throughout the Middle East; these men are being paid a bloody fortune and have so far come up with zero. If I don’t receive some sort of explanation pretty damned soon, let them know that I will have the lot of them withdrawn, and they won’t even get a fucking job as an office cleaner when they return’.

  ‘I will kick some serious ass on this matter sir; I am in complete agreement with your views on the lack of action; so far though, the only feedback that I have been receiving is that the Iranians were as surprised as we were at what happened. For that reason sir, I am not in complete agreement with Theodore’s theory. I know that Theodore is in two minds as to who was responsible, personally I am not convinced that the Iranians had anything to do with it; they don’t have the knowhow’.

  Mario Molinari knew who was responsible and immediately regretted his comments; fortunately no one picked them up and ran with them. Theodore however knew exactly what he had meant.

  CHAPTER 6

  My Brother

  Sir James McNaught, the young magician and the bearded Arabic man climbed to their feet. The force of the blast coming from inside the Aspin club had been so great, that the street was now covered in broken glass from the surrounding buildings. This had been no ordinary suicide bomb; judging from the force of the blast, there had to have been at least 50 or so pounds of high explosives.

  Two young women who had been too close to the club’s entrance were severely injured, one of them already missing an arm; she would not live for long; soon her blood and her life would run out. She stumbled around in a blind haze, her eyes burned deep into their sockets, waiting for and wishing for death with every unsteady step that she took. Everywhere else, dazed people were walking around in a state of shock, many of them bleeding due to the flying and falling glass. The glass splinters had also been propelled inward into offices with the speed of an aimed bullet; thousands of lethal missiles, each one seemingly searching out a human target, an eye, a throat, an artery.

  ‘We have got to move quickly’, the Arabic man said urgently, ‘they will almost certainly have back up, and if we are seen on the street, they will try again, that is for sure; I will ring Achmed for the car. Quickly, follow me Sir James’.

  Sir James McNaught heard nothing that had been said; his ears were filled with a painful ringing; his right ear was pouring blood, and he was entering shock. The young magician saw the problem, and gently took his hand, leading him away from the blast site, at the same time looking carefully into his eyes. ‘Follow me Sir James, everything will be all right, help is on its’ way’.

  McNaught heard the voice, but not through the normal channels; he could not hear the screaming of people in pain and the sound of suffering all around him; he could hear nothing at all, only the incessant, overwhelming and pulsating ringing in his ears, yet still he heard the voice of the young magician.

  The three men walked slowly and painfully up the road for around 50 yards; a large splinter of glass still embedded and protruding from the bearded Arabic man’s thigh, and every step taken by McNaught bringing great pain to his still bleeding ear.

  A police car and an ambulance could be heard in the distance, both blaring their sirens’, and all around them car alarms were trying to drown out the sounds of people screaming in pain and terror.

  A large black 4 by 4 came into view, rounded a slight bend in the road, and with a screeching of tyres, sped insanely down the road, scattering or mowing people down as it went, heading directly for the three men. McNaught saw it first; he saw the screaming bearded man at the steering wheel and recognized his intent. A few yards away, a crying young girl and her mother were sent flying through the air as they desperately tried to escape the maniacally driven vehicle. Still in a state of shock, he was unable to speak; the young magician however read and understood the message radiating from his mind, and turned around just as the vehicle was at the point of impact with them.

  Time froze.

  The world around Sir James McNaught stood still, as once again he witnessed the magic. There was complete silence; the same eerie silence that he had witnessed in the Aspin club, a few moments before.

  The three men walked and hobbled away from the immobile vehicle, carefully avoiding the dead child, who only seconds before had been so alive and was now suspended in mid air, eyes wide open and with a look of terror on her face, and as he turned around, having moved on for some 20 yards, the screaming continued and the young girl fell to the ground dead. He was just in time to see the vehicle explode with an almighty bang, disintegrating and bursting into flames as it crashed at great speed into the scarred and hallowed walls of the Old Colonial club; now the destroyed Aspin club: Sir Rupert McAdam’s bastard child, - and now his tomb.

  McNaughts’s hearing was slowly beginning to return, and with it the knowledge that for the second time in only a matter of moments, not even minutes------he had witnessed magic. He looked deeply into the eyes of the young magician; - those dark and deep soulless hypnotic eyes that betrayed neither feeling nor emotion, and without having time to say or even think of the question, the young man answered:-

  “ MY BROTHER-----THE JIHADA ”.

  CHAPTER 7

  The Jihada

  The two bearded Arabic men took the child from the log cabin in the Catskills, climbed into their pickup truck and drove down the narrow track until they joined the main freeway, travelling along for some 50 miles before the older of the two made a phone call as he drove. He threw down his phone in a fit of anger and swore in Arabic before braking sharply, and with a screeching of tyres, made a dramatic U- turn.

  ‘We have got to go back and kill the woman’, he almost screamed, ‘The Prophesy tells of a second child; a brot
her; not of our faith, but a child who will one day destroy the faith. Allah has spoken. She must die before she gives birth to the Christian child; one day he will be born and destroy all of Islam’.

  A little over one hour later, having parked their vehicle in the woods well hidden from view, the two men made their way quietly on foot to the log cabin and observed proceedings from behind the cover of an old, gnarled oak tree that had on more than one occasion been on the receiving end of a lightning strike.

  They were too late to see the two police officers drive away with the child, they saw only the woman’s body being carried and placed into the waiting ambulance. There was no need to kill the woman, Allah had performed the task himself; the Prophesy of the LOST SCRIPTURES was secure. There was no sign of any child. The only child was wrapped in blankets in their vehicle, and was sound asleep. They were the temporary keepers of the JIHADA. Allah had indeed blessed them.

  The SCRIPTURES had only mentioned a brother; not a twin brother. In time, Mary Jacobs would have had a second child; a child of the Christian God; a child born in order to prevent the excesses of the JIHADA; a child as predicted in the bible and the scriptures contained in the Arc of the Covenant. There was to be a Second Coming.

  The Christian God could not allow Allah to create total Islamic dominance on the planet; the Second Coming had to be brought forward. Allah was angry; he had not foreseen the Christian God’s move. The threat had to be removed – eliminated. The Rules of the Universe forbid Allah from taking a life himself; his followers would have to perform the task for him; all three billion of them would be sacrificed if necessary. Numbers were irrelevant; the removal of the new born threat to the LOST SCRIPTURES was paramount.

  It was only 3 days later that the report of Kevin and Mary Jacobs’s death was reported in the local New York based newspaper, together with details of both the Priest and the missing child. It was news for only a couple of days and was soon forgotten about. There was no forgetting within the small and secretive Islamic group that had taken the first child; they had seen the scriptures, and they knew that unless the child was eliminated, he would one day present an unstoppable threat to the Prophesy of the LOST SCRIPTURES.