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Israeli consulate, security forces and a car explosion. The cherry on the top will be the consulate in San Francisco.” He came up close to the screen and pointed at it. “We entered a pro-Israeli blog and organized a pro-Israeli demonstration. There will be many casualties, as there will be two snipers located not too far away and one shahid who will blow himself up when the security forces arrive.”

“What do you expect to gain from all this devastation?” I managed to disguise my disgust with a tone of admiration.

“Isolation of the Little Satan, humiliation of the Great Satan, chaos to those who are supposed to protect them and aside from that, total control over the whole situation.”

“And don’t you think that, once the first embassy is hit, they will warn the others?”

Yassin smiled at me, and the smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared on his face. “That is the genius of the plan. Despite the fact that each attack is separate, one doesn’t need to reinvent the wheel.” He smiled once again, and said happily, “All the attacks will happen at the exact same hour. Twelve noon tomorrow, on the dot. At noon on the sixteenth of November, 2015, the skies will darken and death will envelop all of America. The initial blow that will befall them.”

***

The telephone rang and I jumped in fright. I was loaded with drugs, but instead of calming me, they had the opposite effect. Yassin picked up the phone and listened for a moment. It seemed that Juliana, Yassin’s insubordinate wife, and his beloved son were arriving in New York in less than two hours. Yassin listened a while longer and answered, “Carry on with the original plan, the limousine is already waiting for you.”

“If we consider that she didn’t want to come at all, we must anticipate that she will most probably be angry when she walks in,” said the soft voice. “Maybe you should save some of the drugs for her, so that she’ll calm down.”

Yassin laughed and patted him on the back. “She will calm down once she sees her beloved genius of a husband.”

“With all due respect.” The soft voice sounded suddenly less soft and a bit angry. “We really don’t need one of her scenes. This is going to be a battleground. I don’t even think you should be here. It is time you vanished.”

The smile that had been on Yassin’s face over the last hour faded. The icy fire rose in his eyes and spread through the whole room. I wondered if he would shoot his aide himself, or command someone else to do it. I prayed that he would not request it of me. His aide might have a soft voice, but he also had balls of steel; he seemed not the least perturbed by Yassin’s clear rage. He carried on glaring at Yassin, as if demanding immediate action. Soon, the fire in Yassin’s eyes died down. He contemplated, and then, as if his fervor had renewed itself, he said, “You are right. Pack up everything. Only Rod and the rifle are staying here.”

We’d already partaken in one round of cocaine. Heaps of food lay on the table next to me, but we had not eaten much. A whisper of the fun Yassin, the one I’d known all those years ago, flickered into view. I took advantage of his good mood and filled a plate of food, then took it to the kid who sat in the tiny little room. He was shaking uncontrollably, and I felt sorry for him. “I heard everything,” he whispered to me. “Your friend is insane!”

I bent down to give him the plate. I whispered to him, “Take the plate and eat something. I will do my best to get us out of here.” That was enough to cause a rush of tears to trickle down his cheeks. He was careful not to whimper out loud. It was just as well because it could have got us both in trouble. He took the plate and began eating with his dirty fingers.

Happy Yassin asked, “Do you want to give him a line to snort, or would it be a waste of good stuff?”

I got up and said, as if to no-one in particular, “It would be a waste. He won’t appreciate it.” I smiled at Yassin. “On the other hand, I am ready for a second round.”

“Just let me make one call.” He contacted the man accompanying his wife and son and instructed him of a change in plans. “Tell the pilot I want him to land in Washington. More instructions will arrive later. The pilot knows where to fly.”

“How are you planning on getting to Washington?” I inquired. My eyes were concentrating on the white powder crumbling on the crystal surface. Deep inside I felt that perhaps that was the first mistake he made. Maybe the swift change in plan had no security net. I hoped someone would follow this private plane on which his son and wife were flying. That someone would manage to stop all this craziness that was about to happen. I continued looking at the powder greedily, to hide my thoughts of him being caught.

“The person who gave me the ship has given me his whole fleet. His planes and helicopters, too. I need to use his planes, just in case mine are being tailed.”

The person with the soft voice ordered Rod the sniper, saying, “Don’t use the phone but keep it charged.”

Yassin added, “You start shooting at the exact hour we set. The hellfire will start at twelve noon, eastern time, unless something changes, and only then if you receive another order from me. Any other order has to come from me. Only I can stop this operation!”

Rod took the rifle and hugged him, like they were brothers in arms, which I suppose they were. “You have nothing to worry about, boss. I have enough ammunition. I have shot more difficult targets than these.

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