Charles Z. David
The Dreadful Patriot
A patriot is someone who feels a strong support for their country (Wikipedia).
Prologue
The slim girl was swimming as fast as she could in an attempt to outpace the muscular man chasing her. She was trying to get to the houseboat that was just 20 meters ahead. He was rapidly closing the distance between them with long powerful strokes. She squealed with joy and excitement as she reached the wooden stairs leading from the tranquil, clear water to the deck of the houseboat and mounted the first step. Less than a second later he also mounted the same step and managed to grab her ankle before she could get to the third step. She fell into his arms and in Hebrew told him that she loved him although he swam like a whale while she could swim like a dolphin. They were too engrossed in each other to notice the two gunmen that were just stepping out of the door that led to the small kitchen of the houseboat. One of the gunmen pointed his AK47 at them and while shouting something in Urdu motioned them to get into the kitchen. The other gunman removed a long curved knife from the folds of his robe and wielded it in an arc that would have severed the girl's head had she not moved away fast enough. The muscular man spoke English and said that they had some money that they would gladly give them if they left them alone. The gunman with the knife pulled the man by his hair and pushed him into a flimsy rattan kitchen chair, pulled four strong nylon cable ties and secured his feet to the legs of the chair and his arms to the armrests. The girl, who at a closer look appeared to be in her mid-twenties got the same treatment, with some unnecessary pawing by the gunman. Her man who was in his late-twenties just grunted and swore under his breath but stopped when the gunman whipped him with the butt of his AK47.
The first gunman looked at the handiwork of his mate and smiled and said in British accented English that they were not after small change when a real prize awaited them. He asked the young man what his name was and when he refused to answer he just smiled again, showing a set of perfect teeth that obviously were not his own, and waved a blue covered Israeli passport and simply read out the name — Zohar (Zorik) Shemesh. He then opened the second passport that belonged to the girl and pronounced her name — Inbal Sabatani. He said that if they behaved well and followed his orders no harm would become them but if they caused problems then he would inflict upon them so much pain that they would wish they had not been born.
Zorik looked at Inbal and in English so that their captors could understand that he meant no mischief, told her to keep quiet and cooperate. They both hoped that the gunmen caught them in a random act against Israelis and were not aware of the fact that Inbal was the granddaughter of the Israeli Prime Minister from his first marriage and that her surname was that of her father who was married to the PM's daughter.
Chapter 1
Dr. Ali Abdul Abadi emerged from the St. Stephen metro station in the center of Vienna. The first thing he saw was the famous St. Stephen cathedral all lit up and decorated with Christmas trees and surrounded by stands selling alcoholic punch, beer and spiced wine in ornamental cups and a few stands that displayed souvenirs for tourists. There was a pervasive odor of urine, originating from the horses pulling the colorful carriages that made their way slowly through the narrow streets of central Vienna. The customers were romantic tourists that were willing to overpay for the illusion of being like the nobility in the good old days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Ali couldn't understand why the municipality of Vienna that was supposedly run by level-headed politicians allowed this offense against the most sensitive olfactory sense. He felt that the odor could almost be compared to a chemical agent used for riot control. Surely, he thought, even in Isfahan where he came from, droppings and urine of horses, donkeys and mules were a thing of the past in the center of the magnificent town. Even in the artificial light he noted the big difference between the bright surfaces of the cathedral and the much darker parts that were still awaiting their turn, and the necessary funds, to be cleaned.
The evening was very chilly, but Ali felt that he needed some fresh air, preferably odorless, as he had just returned from a lengthy preparatory meeting with the Head of the Iranian delegation to the International Atomic Energy Agency, the IAEA. Vienna that served as the IAEA headquarters was flooded by Iranian scientists, engineers, spies and well to do tourists after the signing of the nuclear deal just a few months earlier between Iran the 5+1 countries (US, Russia, France, China, UK and Germany). Ali was concerned about the instructions he had been given by the senior Iranian diplomat to categorically deny that any research and development that were related to weapons were taking place in his laboratory. He was directed to lie to his teeth in the meeting with the team of IAEA inspectors that was scheduled for the next day. The team of inspectors included professional scientists and engineers and was in charge of verifying that Iran was in full compliance with the agreement. Basically, Ali was an honest man who felt uncomfortable lying, but knew that he had to do it for his country. Few people knew of the top secret laboratory in which Ali served as the lead physicist of the small elite group that carried out complex calculations on solid state compression.
Ali came from a very poor family that lived in a small village near Isfahan. In the old days of the Shah he would have been doomed to life as a peasant, or at most, as a petty merchant in the local bazaar, despite the fact that he excelled in his elementary school studies. Fortunately for him, the Islamic revolution afforded him, and several other brilliant students like him, an opportunity to gain a proper education. It turned out that Ali had an exceptional mind for mathematics and physics and was encouraged to study science at the local university. He was later sent to UMIST the famous university in Manchester, England, to obtain a doctorate in physics. After carrying out some ground-breaking research work he was offered an academic position at the same university and a chance to live in the UK. But he felt that his country needed him and that he had an obligation to the regime in Iran for giving him this opportunity. Looking at the horse drawn carriages a fleeting smile crossed his lips when he remembered his father admonishing him. This occurred when he was 10 years old and after he proudly told his father that he had saved the bus fare by running after the bus and his father slapped him and said that he could have saved more by running after a taxi.
It was a cold Sunday night at the end of November and there were very few people walking along the streets reserved for pedestrians and in the large St. Stephen square. Nothing like the swarms of happy and smiling people he saw when he attended a conference in Barcelona just a few weeks earlier. He strolled along Kartner Strasse toward the Donaukanal that was part of the Danube River that flows through Vienna. He wasn't quite sure about the right way to the bridge so he looked for someone to ask for directions. He came across a bespectacled police-woman and in perfect English asked her if this was the way to the river. She looked him over and in stilted English told him he only had to follow Rotenturm Strasse for a few hundred meters and he would reach the bridge that crossed the river.
Ali was so engrossed in his thoughts about the upcoming meeting that he did not notice the man who was following him. A young woman approached him and asked him something in German. He started to answer in English that he was not a local when he felt a drop of liquid in his left ear. As it was not raining he couldn't quite figure out where it came from. He scratched his ear to alleviate the annoying irritation the drop caused when suddenly everything went dark and he fell to the ground paralyzed. The last things he saw was the beautifully illuminated St. Stephen cathedral in the distance. He didn't notice the man rapidly disappearing down the street that led to the river.