Paul McKellips - Jericho 3

“Share the plan, Omid. The three of us are standing in Armageddon. Let’s not fill this valley up with blood,” Camp pleaded as he sat down.

Finn and Yitzhak watched from the ridgeline of Megiddo as Omid spoke for nearly two hours. He shared every detail of the plan he had heard during the meeting in Qoms. He told them about Kazi and the Unity Festival, the MISIRI and their plans for the King of Saudi Arabia, nuclear warheads, a thousand Shahab missiles, a million men on the Iraqi border, and the 8-minute and 53-second clock that would become Armageddon.

The three men, a Christian, a Jew and a Muslim, discussed ways to neutralize the plan, though each knew that even if the plan receded temporarily, the mutual hate would not. The tension might subside, but a new plan would emerge.

The three-Suburban convoy returned to the Gesher gate where border soldiers manned the post and kept a close eye on Finn’s rental car. The driver got out as Camp, Omid and Reuven soaked up their meeting in silence.

“There’s one more thing that I must mention,” Omid said as Reuven turned around to look at him. “Kazi is my cousin… our fathers were brothers. Our fathers rejected my grandfather’s thoughts… he was too extreme… his heart was filled with hate… our fathers moved to Pakistan, just to get away from Qazvin, my grandfather… I was only six years old, Kazi was barely a year old… terrorists broke into our house where both of our families lived together under one roof… Kazi’s mother and father were killed… I watched as my mother’s throat was slit and a single gunshot entered the back of my father’s neck. Kazi and I, along with our sisters, were orphans… grandfather Qazvin came to Islamabad and took us back to Markazi Province in Iran… grandfather allowed me to visit every year where he thought my father lived in a home for several months before he finally died… to this day, I have never told Qazvin that my father died way back then… he despised his two sons for not accepting his brand of Islam… there was no reason for him to feel sympathetic when one son was killed and the other son was severely wounded.”

“Can you reason with Kazi?” Reuven asked.

“I don’t think so. He is very radical. He was Qazvin’s favorite. He spent every day in Qazvin’s lab at the university. Since he was born in Pakistan he had dual citizenship and was able to study in the states, become a microbiologist and earn his PhD in The Netherlands.”

“This is the man who killed our Army doctor?” Camp asked.

“Kazi would never pull a trigger. That’s not his style. But the SkitoMister we found… that’s Kazi.”

“Please, Farid, can you try? For the sake of the children in both countries?” Reuven dismantled his eccentric disposition and spoke with a hint of desperation and humility. “He is your cousin.”

“I will try.”

The three men got out of the SUV. Camp shook Reuven’s hand, said goodbye to Yitzhak and headed over to the rental car where Finn had the engine running.

The Mossad agents looked over at Reuven and Omid. Omid only slightly wondered if this was where his life would finally end. Camp and Finn were not so sure either.

Reuven moved closer as Omid raised his eyes to meet those of the Israeli.

“Ahkh,” Reuven said.

“It’s the same in Arabic and Farsi… ahkee ,” Omid said.

Camp looked back as Reuven and Omid embraced and bid each other farewell, as brothers.

“Reuven, I’ll be in touch with you,” Camp yelled from the car.

Reuven waved goodbye and yelled back, “I’m afraid that will not be possible.”

LyonBio

Lyon, France

Camp and Finn got a good night’s rest at the Hilton Lyon Hotel before arriving at LyonBio shortly before noon. Camp’s mind was racing with the frenetic exit from Jordan, a quick flight back to France, and the taxi ride back to the hotel.

Raines was sitting in her lab, grinning like a Cheshire cat, with a dozen long-stemmed roses standing in a crystal vase in the middle of her desk when Camp and Finn walked in.

“Hey, its Tom and Jerry… welcome back, boys.”

Camp couldn’t see past the roses to greet Raines.

“What’s this?” Camp said with newfound disdain.

“Guess I have a secret admirer. Not sure if he’s here in France or one of my old boyfriends back at Fort Detrick.”

Camp walked over to the vase and ripped the card out of the arrangement.

“Help yourself by all means, Captain Campbell,” she said as he pulled the card out of the tiny envelope. Camp read the note out loud.

“Congratulations, Leslie… you did it! Manufacturing is underway and five million sublingual doses will be ready to ship on October 5th. Just let us know where they’re going. Your friend, Thierry and Rochelle Gaudin.”

Camp rolled his eyes and teased Raines.

“Very funny, Les, I hope you got a good laugh at my expense.”

“Thank you. I did. But you seem a bit too tense to enjoy it.”

“We’ve been to Armageddon and back. Literally.” Camp explained.

“Twenty-one hours a day in this lab wasn’t exactly a trip to Miami Beach either. Lighten up, sailor.”

Camp walked over and reluctantly kissed her forehead.

“Congratulations, Les. You’re a rock star.”

“I’ve got some good news and bad news, one for each of you. Which do you want first?”

“Bad,” Finn said as he took a seat.

“General Ferguson called, and he wants you to return to Kabul, Billy. Your work is done here.”

“Thank God,” Finn said. “I could use some bad news like that. Your sailor is going to get me into trouble if I keep hanging around him.”

“The good news is for me?” Camp asked.

“Actually it’s good for us. You’ve been detailed back to Washington, Camp… Walter Reed National Medical Center.”

“Are you serious? When?”

“As soon as you can get on an airplane.”

“What about you, Les?”

“I’ll stay here and babysit the vaccines. They’ll ship to Tel Aviv on 1 October. I’ll head home when they’re out the door.”

Raines drove the boys back to their hotel after lunch so they could re-pack their small backpacks and book their travel arrangements. Camp leaned in through the open window of Raines’ rental car as Finn went inside the Hilton.

“Got any plans for dinner tonight, sailor?” Raines asked.

“Well, actually I’ve grown tired of waiting for my lab rat friend to find some social time so, yeah, tonight I think I’m open for dinner.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Qazvin University of Medical Sciences

Ghods Hospital

Markazi Province, Iran

Omid parked his car in the small parking lot at Ghods Hospital, a lot that had been recently overflowing with tularemia-infected villagers from the Bourvari District. The hospital and university classrooms were all quite familiar to him. He didn’t spend as much time at Ghods as Kazi did, but it was a second home nonetheless.

Omid was six, and Kazi was one when they, along with four sisters between them, came to live with Qazvin after an abrupt and terrifying exit from Pakistan. Their grandfather’s house was located in the neighborhood just behind the hospital. At first the boys would join their grandfather in his lab every day after school. Qazvin was a chemist by trade but had added advanced life science degrees to his curriculum vitae along the way.

He had picked up a lot of radical thought as well. Qazvin joined a secret society in the 1950’s called Hottajieh. He was obsessed with moving Islam in a different direction.