The Caliphate André Gallo (list of ebook readers TXT) 📖

     Kella sat at the one chair beside the bed. She turned from the TV to Steve and began to speak, but Steve looked at her and raised his index finger to his lips. She sat back and waited for the end of the presentation. Her eyes wandered over the medical equipment beside the bed, which among other things kept tabs on his heartbeat: normal.

     Thank God, she thought.

     The historian continued about the history of weaponry, some of which Kella found dull, until he moved up to more familiar weapons.

     “In the hands of the Japanese in December 1941, the airplane, which had seen only fledgling service in World War I, shifted the balance of naval power across the Pacific in a single week. The submarine, which had first appeared in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, came into its own as a terribly effective weapon of war in World War II.

     “‘Little Boy’ and ‘Fat Man,’ the first atomic weapons dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, led to the immediate surrender of the Japanese Empire and the dawn of the nuclear age.

     “Military technology stepped into space the day al Khalil used the Israeli laser against his apostate foes.”

     Kella smoothed the hair away from Steve’s forehead.

     “How does it feel to have a place in history, to be the guy who stopped al Khalil from sacrificing thousands of people to his ego?”

     Steve just shrugged. She imagined it was too much to take in so soon afterward.

     “The full story hasn’t leaked out yet, how close al Khalil came to firing that second strike. But that’s not why I’m here. How are you feeling? Ready to go home?”

     “As soon as they let me out. Are you coming with me? To Virginia, I mean.”

     “Do I look like a nurse? Only when you’re fully rehabilitated.”

     “Well, everything works just fine right now. Lock the door and I’ll give you a test run.”

    She pouted, “If everything ‘worked’,” and she placed quotations marks in the air in front of her, “your heartbeat should be much faster when I’m in the room.”

     He laughed and immediately winced, placing his hand against the left side of his chest.

     “Come here,” he said, and tugged her in for a kiss.

     “You are lucky to be alive,” she said. “I just spoke to the doctor. He said the bullet hit a rib and was diverted or it could have hit your heart. I brought you some newspapers, by the way.”

     Steve picked one up and scanned the front page.

     “Listen to this. An influential moderate imam is calling for a joint international fatwa against the radicals. He said Islam is a great religion and must not fear the twenty-first century, and also that a good Muslim need not revert to practices that made sense a thousand years ago.”

     Kella took the paper and glanced at it.

     “Well, it’s a start. The Muslim moderates have been the silent majority. If they take charge of their future, the radicals are history.”

     She paused a second and, with a gleam in her eyes and a smile, said, “Did you ask me about travel plans? I have some loose ends to take care of in Paris, and then I’m on my way to Virginia, ready or not.”

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

All of the events and characters in this story are imaginary—with one exception; Steve is modeled on our son Christopher, who died in 2002 and to whom this book is dedicated. The settings and backgrounds are factual. I have personally run clandestine operations in most of the countries where the story takes place. Similarly, although I do not claim to be an Islamic scholar, I studied Islam at Johns Hopkins School of International Studies and lived in Islamic countries for many years. While the Islamic content has been double-checked by others with better academic credentials, I take full responsibility for any error.

     I have often been urged to write an autobiography. But there are many biographies available, prompted by a variety of motivations, for those who are curious about the life and career of a CIA operations officer. Although it is natural to be proud of one’s life accomplishments, and I am no different, my story would not add much to theirs. A novel allows the author to entertain as well as educate. Fictional characters can say and act out their convictions to reflect their worldviews, which can be centuries apart, as they are in this story. For example, while the structures of our international system are still based on the sovereign state concepts of the 1648 Treaty of Westphalia, bolstered by nineteenth century nationalism, many Muslims are working toward a borderless world subservient to the laws of Islam—it is not a subject for negotiation. This story is built around this conflict of views. Presenting the issues in a novel was more fun to write and, I hope, will be more fun to read about than eye-glazing dates and treaties.

     I wish to thank all those who encouraged me along the way and for their willingness to spend the time to read part or all of the manuscript, make suggestions, and point out weaknesses: Rita Callahan, Thérèse and Elise, Brittany and Preston, John Panama, Dr. David McCuan, Dr. Barry Goodfield, Denise Constantini, Fred Hill, Philip Giraldi and Philip Gioia. Special thanks to Jeff Cox, successful author in his own right, without whose initial help I probably would not have begun what turned out to be a more challenging project spread over a much longer period than I had anticipated. The book would not have reached publication without the personal interest and generous support of Haggai Carmon, author of the Dan Gordon thriller series. Thanks also to