“Ahhh!” exclaimed Cobra with delight, when he finally recognized the elusive accent. His captive was American. Immediately he broke into English. “So you are an American! You did not look like an Israeli, but you speak their language well. So very few Americans come to our sacred lands except to steal our oil. Such a fine sense of humor — but it will not last long,” he said, with a sly grin.
Sharafan took the knife from the table and slid his finger gently along the sharp edge, bringing his own blood. He smiled and licked it.
“Now you will tell me where the general’s son is.”
“Go to hell. Your men couldn’t get me to talk; neither will you and your toys.”
“No, no, you misunderstand me,” Sharafan said, waving the knife almost apologetically. He pointed to his tool of torture and continued. “This is just the appetizer.” Then he tapped the green metal container. “Inside here is what I call my box of pain. With it you will surely talk.”
“I’ll die first.”
“Oh, you will die,” he said casually, “and you will also tell me all I want to know.” With those words, he pointed to the American’s right hand. The man holding the prisoner’s arm spread the hand flat and held it tightly against the table.
“You can’t do this, the Geneva—”
Before he finished, Sharafan slapped his hand over the man’s mouth, preventing another word from escaping. His face reflected his anger and bitterness as he finished the words.
“Geneva Convention?” he uttered with contempt. He moved his face until he was almost nose-to-nose with his prisoner. “Don’t preach rules of war to me.” With each word Sharafan became angrier. “While we fight with sticks and stones, America and Israel use rockets, jets, and tanks. We fight with honor; you fight the coward’s war.” He smiled down on his victim. “We will triumph; you will lose. Mark my words, they are the truth.” He intentionally turned to his men and raised his voice, “Allah Akbar!”
In unison the other two men almost screamed the words that meant God is great: “Allah Akbar!”
A wicked smile filled Sharafan’s face. “I will give you the same Geneva Conference you gave the prisoners at Abu Ghraib.” He smiled at each of his companions. “Maybe we should strip and violate him like the Americans did our captured friends?”
With those words the anger of Aziz and al-Majid reached emotional highs that threatened to become explosive and deadly actions. Aziz chanted, “Allah Akbar.”
Al-Majid hit the prisoner on the head and pulled out his machete. “Let us take his head and show it to all.”
In an effort to restrain his companions, Sharafan held his hand up to stop them. “The machete is swift and holds too much compassion.”
The two hesitated and listened to the words. Ready to take instant action with the large, heavy blade, al-Majid lowered his weapon. Sharafan released the prisoner’s mouth and tapped the deadly knife in his hand. His comrades watched and responded with grim smiles of sadistic understanding.
Hours earlier the American prisoner, Beau Gex, had been flying a retaliatory mission against Syria. His fighter group was ordered to intercept a bus of kidnapped Israeli children, which also included a top Israeli general’s son. The bus was spotted on a road just inside Lebanon. Beau’s fighter group responded quickly, finding the bus and making every effort to impede its progress. Low on fuel, all the airplanes returned — except for the American’s. Somehow he forced the kidnappers into a ditch.
He waited for the children to run from the bus, and then, using the guns of his aircraft, killed their pursuers. Like the Israelis, the Arabs were also alerted and dozens more of the Arab kidnappers had joined in the pursuit of the children. Soon Beau ran out of fuel, and in an effort to delay the children’s capture he aimed his plane toward their attackers. At the last second, he ejected, letting his jet score a direct hit.
Somehow Beau managed to gather the eleven children, including General Mosat’s son Beginn, and reached the city in which the terrorists now held him captive. A few buildings away the children hid quietly like good little soldiers. Beau had used himself as a decoy to save them, giving Beginn orders to escape in the safety of darkness. Even in the face of death, the full moon gave Beau reason to worry about the children’s safety.
Pain shot through his right hand as Sharafan sliced the tip of the small finger to the bone. He jerked and let out with a stunned groan. Smiling, Cobra slid the razor sharp blade down, then beneath the fingernail of the digit, and with a quick twist of his hand, removed it effortlessly. Puffs of dust rose from the floor as blood dripped through a large crack in the wooden table. Cobra aligned the blade with the first joint, rocking the knife gently back and forth, careful not to cut the skin. Unexpectedly, he snapped the sharp steel through the joint. Beau cried out in pain and caught his breath in short gasps. The small finger was neatly severed at the first knuckle. Cobra took a rag and wiped the wicked blade clean.
The American was about to die and he knew it. Still he remained alert in the hopes he could find a means of escape, however unlikely it might be. He found solace in his impending death, knowing the children were in capable hands with Beginn. The boy would control the others and lead them to safety.
“Your death will please Allah and avenge the dead of Iraq and Afghanistan that were killed by your country in Desert Storm and Enduring Freedom.”
“We should’ve nuked you bastards and made you Desert Glass!” Beau snapped. For a moment he remembered his father, Commander Robert Brookin Gex, who had fought in Desert Storm and how he had expressed hatred against President Bush for not pursuing Saddam Hussein and finishing the job. His father had not lived to see Saddam Hussein’s demise when Bush’s son became president.
“Where are the children?” Sharafan demanded.
Again Beau refused to answer. Thoughts from the past flashed through his mind. They were thoughts of happier days with his wife Becky and his son before their tragic bombing deaths in Rome the summer of 2007—a bombing that had been in retaliation for America’s deadly Operation Iraqi Freedom offensive of 2003: deaths he felt he could have prevented. He regretted never having found their murderers. More than five years had passed since they died. Their deaths were the reason he resigned from the Navy and enlisted with the Israeli Air Force in 2008, hoping to extract a measure of revenge. Operation Iraqi Freedom of 2003, or Shock and Awe as Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld had affectionately called it, wasn’t his war; it was his country’s war. It had been similar to that of Desert Storm of 1991 and Enduring Freedom of 2001, only this time the United States had gone in to protect Israel and remove Saddam Hussein permanently, while still trying to stop terrorism. The war and ensuing attacks had centered in and around Lebanon. President Bush — George W. Bush — had used the war as a way of building national pride during a period of growing unrest and financial collapse.
Operation Iraqi Freedom also put major American oil companies in control of Iraqi oil production. Their profits soared, although company accountants showed little of the profit. Internally, America was suffering. There had been more riots, bombings, and deaths in the United States than there were in Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Clean Sweep against Lebanon. Prolonged financial and domestic unrest ultimately led to a third party. The Tea Party that was recognized during the 2012 election.
During Operation Iraqi Freedom, Beau Gex, an F-15 pilot, who was brash and young at twenty-three years of age, had fought with honor and without question of America’s actions, but America’s success had brought his loss. A fatwa had been issued to kill the pilots responsible for the massive carnage and deaths of innocent women and children in Lebanon. One fatwa was for Beau. His personal war started when America’s ended and his family was murdered. He no longer trusted anyone, except his fellow pilots who fought along his side. No longer did he fight for honor. Instead he fought for revenge. He had many unanswered questions. Who set the bomb that killed helpless people, including his wife and child? What had his revenge accomplished? With his life about to end, he still had no answers.