Cyrill Delvin - The Gaza Project

a Thriller

by Cyrill Delvin

The following is a fictional narrative. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, locations and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, be they dead or alive, events or places is purely coincidental.

The Gaza-Project

E-Book, first English edition

All rights reserved

Published by: epubli GmbH, Berlin, www.epubli.de

Copyright © 2014 Cyrill Delvin

ISBN 978-3-7375-0293-1

Contents

Imprint The Gaza Project a Thriller by Cyrill Delvin The following is a fictional narrative. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, locations and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, be they dead or alive, events or places is purely coincidental. The Gaza-Project E-Book, first English edition All rights reserved Published by: epubli GmbH, Berlin, www.epubli.de Copyright © 2014 Cyrill Delvin ISBN 978-3-7375-0293-1

The Plan

PART I - Dawn

Two Brothers

The Escape

Arrival

Whalers

Almanac

Beyond

Caught

The Heatwave

Assassin

Quo vadis

Salt Water

Stella 2

Prélude

Breathless

Change of Tack

Stranded

Fata Morgana

Part II - Five Years Later

Factor 77

A Medal

Lanternulae

Second Death

The Serviette

Treasure Hunt

Protectorate

Legacy

Roller-Coaster

Mosaic

Cycle

Mirror Image

Black and White

Two Heirs

Taking a Dive

Part III - Ṣadafah-a-llha The Seashell Allah’s

Colour Spectrum

t minus 7

Castling

The Meeting

The Falcon

Operation ›Wolffish‹

Laboratory

Sea of Flames

Like the Phoenix from the Ashes

›The fruits of my labour will soon be on offer everywhere. Regardless wether they are bought or left to rot, they already carry the seed for new growth inside them, because one isn’t only responsible for one’s actions, but also for one’s inaction!‹

Senator Charles William Reeds

»These are times when children are born into war; into a cradle of violence. They live constantly on the brink of death. In the end, they die before the battle is over. These are times when there’s no hope, only impotence. Where hatred doesn’t blind people but shows them the way. Times like these never end and will always start anew.«

Charles took a sip of water from the glass in front of him on the wooden table.

»We are here together because it’s time to act. We are in a position to do something. We shall change the course of history. Not globally, but locally. In a place where change is badly needed – in Gaza. Together, with a lot of persistence and a little luck, we’ll go down in the annals of history.«

Those present knew the lean man in his mid-fifties well enough by now not to say anything. In any case, the high-ranking guests hadn’t come together for a discussion, but to reach a decision. Collectively. And still each for themselves.

With a dismissive gesture, Charles continued: »Anyway, today we shall agree that the IWAC will arrive at the Gaza Strip without attracting public attention.«

On his right, quite unmoved, sat the tall Israeli Prime Minister Eizenburg. On his left, the delicate Šarīf seemed like a little boy by comparison. He had resigned recently as the head of the Fatḥ to found the Palestinian Brotherhood Party. Attempting to unite the estranged Palestinian parties put him under immense pressure. The American Minister of Foreign Affairs, Doris Whiteford, completed the illustrious round.

The salon was randomly furnished with precious pieces of furniture, creating a rather tawdry and not very stylish impression. The mansion was located high above the Bay of Marseille in the east of the city on the secluded country estate Trois-Ruisselets. Charles, who used to be the American Ambassador in Paris, had acquired the property some years earlier and had had it restored.

He preferred hosting the unofficial meeting in this virtually neutral zone. Naturally, the estate had its own helipad and was, as usual, guarded by the French police. This afternoon, it was also protected by French, American and Israeli secret service agents.

Today, the club, as he derisively yet affectionately referred to the assembled circle to his friends, had their third meeting. Through his diverse political activities, Charles had established close ties to all the leading political figures and organisations over the years. It was short of a miracle that he had managed to assemble the opposing camps, which had been warring for decades, under the one roof.

Absolute secrecy was the condition and the key to success. The deal was simple: Should they succeed, each politician could individually claim to have been the driving force behind the change. If they didn’t, none of the dialogue partners had to expose him or herself and embark on potentially politically destructive discussions. What they all had in common was the will to solve the problems at the Levantine coast. The task was to inconspicuously engineer the individual steps that would eventually lead to peace in the Middle East. So inconspicuous that it could be achieved without resistance.

The IWAC’s plans, however, were more far-reaching than the Levant. When Charles found himself on his own, sitting in front of the mansion’s magnificent fireplace, he therefore frequently pondered the situation.

What right do I have to interfere to such an extent in the course of events? Or do my influence and means oblige me all the more to do something?

Who was Senator Charles William Reeds, this apparently carefree American? A naive megalomaniac or a genius? The responsibility he had imposed on himself to implement his ideas was a heavy burden indeed.

While he was lost in thought, the two cast-iron brackets to the left and the right of the fireplace, petering into lions claws, started performing a manic dance. The claws jumped from side to side and the imaginary lion’s head with them. To the same extent that the light and the shadow of the crackling fire became increasingly wild, the predator‘s purring and growling escalated in a crescendo permeating the whole room. The desperate screams of a young black boy, Johnny, merged with the noise. Charles covered his ears. Thankfully he only rarely had the time to muse in front of the fire at Trois-Ruisselets.

»The IWAC’s first step will be to ship relief supplies to Gaza and distribute them among the population. We procure the food and the basic medical supplies as far as possible from the surrounding regions and label everything neutrally. Not even the IWAC logo will be visible. We organise the sourcing, the logistics and the transport up to the coast. For local distribution, we involve people in Gaza. All the helpers, insofar as they are not Palestinians, will be recruited from the neighbouring countries except Israel.«

He looked at Eizenburg who nodded imperceptibly. Charles had had to persistently champion his cause to arrange these talks. In the end, it had only been possible because all the details had been negotiated with the attending parties in advance during one-to-one sessions. Comments were not encouraged. The power brokers‘ participation had been contingent on this condition. That the climate would remain frosty was a given. But the American was convinced that this meeting was crucial for his plans to progress.

»Israel will relax the sea blockade for the IWAC. Of course, the Israelis have the unconditional right to inspect our ships at any time. On the other hand, they are pushing the erection of the wall around the Gaza Strip and also to the south against Egypt. This will effectively protect the Israeli population. The task of the Palestinian interim government is to keep a check on the inner-party turf wars in the region it controls. Terrorist activities against Israel and inside the Gaza Strip are to be prevented at any price. And President Šarīf will do anything within his power to ensure this won’t happen.«