Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (e reader for manga .txt) 📗

Bond-like briefcases. The skillfulness and speed with which they did all this was quite frightening. If I’d had any doubt about the capabilities of these hitmen, it dissipated after watching them at work. They were quiet and serious, like gravediggers, and their silence was broken only by the metal clinking of the firearms being taken apart.

Yassin’s men left, one by one. First, two pale men went into the next room to change clothes. They came out dressed in three-piece suits with modern ties, looking like ad men or Wall Street brokers. They each took a briefcase, hugged Yassin, kissed his cheeks, and walked out to their deaths, which would cause the death of others. Then, the ones dressed as musicians slung their appropriate bags over their shoulders, and, after another short farewell ceremony, left too. Slowly, more and more left, until there was but a small group: Yassin’s most trusted men, and, in the closet, almost forgotten, the boy.

Yassin ordered, “Connect the computers!”

“I don’t think this is the right place,” answered the soft voice. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Yassin’s glare. Without another word, he dealt with the cables on the computers. Within minutes, all the computers had been turned on and different pictures began to appear on the screens.

“Now that the key people are present there is no need for compartmentalization. I can now reveal the big picture. Look at the problems with this kind of operation,” he said and pointed at a white building surrounded by a fence patrolled by guards. “Notice how they guard the Israeli embassy in Washington. Besides the fact that it is all well protected, every window, every door… Beyond the pathway, the entrance is closed and even beyond the entrance there are guards 24/7. What we have in this area are more and more embassies. Even those that I have no intention of harming, like the Pakistani embassy, which is situated one block away. Right behind the Israeli building is the Malaysian embassy.”

“A building like that is not accessible. Are you giving up on the possibility of attacking it?”

“Why give up?” he asked, surprised. “It’s just a bit more challenging and requires creativity and preciseness when planning. For example, a few days ago a commercial deal was signed between a big British company – which, coincidentally, I own controlling shares in -- and the Malaysian government. There will be a party to celebrate the occasion, and a catering truck will arrive tomorrow at the Malaysian embassy. At the same time, a group of students from Columbia University will go out on a protest march, located here,” he pointed at a spot in close proximity to the Israeli embassy. “They will march along this route.” The screen displayed a map of the area and Yassin pointed out the route, which terminated at the Israeli embassy. “And they will protest against the Israeli apartheid. The students, not necessary Muslim, will gather opposite the embassy, and the Israeli guards and the American forces who are supposed to prevent anyone reaching the Israeli embassy gates will be on high alert because of the protest and will pay less attention to the catering vans. When one of them stops, and opens up the hood of the car, and smoke is pouring out of the engine, it will be the least threatening situation to deal with, and they won’t take notice of it.”

“And then it will blow up?”

“First there will be shots in the crowd. People will fall like flies. They will blame the Israelis. They will start blaming each other. The security forces will respond quickly…”

“And then there will be an explosion,” I finished the sentence.

“Exactly!” He smiled and went from computer to computer. Pictures of buildings, which I guessed were Israeli consulates, flashed across the screens.

“Each consulate with its own attack,” he said with great pride. “Each operation is an attack in itself. And all of them are inconsequential compared to the attack just before Thanksgiving. Simultaneously blowing up planes en route to Israel … It is going to spike universal fear as never seen before.”

I also felt the fear rising within me, as I had never felt before in my life. To be involved in one terrorist attack seemed like cheap payment for all the sins I’d committed, but to be involved in this operation seemed like death by torture. The only thing I could think was how I could get out of it, or how to stop the madness.

Yassin pointed to the second screen, which showed a fairly new high-rise building. Above the entrance, in glittering metal letters, was the name ‘New World Tower’. Palm trees swayed beside the building in a light breeze.

I asked, “Miami, Florida?” He nodded.

“One camera is stationed on the tree opposite the entrance.” Yassin pressed a button and the street view appeared. “That is where the rescue forces will come from. Do you see the FedEx truck? Every day at the same time they arrive to collect the mail and parcels. The building has thirty stories and the ground floor is designated for businesses.” He pressed the button again and another high rise appeared. “My sniper is situated in this hotel,” He explained, with icy calm. “He will shoot at random people tomorrow in the vicinity. Unfortunately, I don’t have direct access to the embassy, but it doesn’t mean I can’t wreak havoc.” He turned the camera a bit to show a sliver of the upper car park. “In the building there is an electronic parking lot with twelve floors,” he explained. “There will be a Tesla in one of the parking bays, loaded with a huge amount of explosives. Have you seen what happens when a lithium battery explodes? A burst of inextinguishable fire ensues. When the security forces gather, he only needs to take one shot, aimed at the bottom of the car where the battery is. It will ignite and the explosives in the car will go off.”

“You know that the bottom is reinforced, right?”

“Of course.”