CHAPTER 24

PRESENT DAY, IRAQ

Omar was back in full strength. The room was stark. Surrounding the large table sat those in leadership from every jihadist group connected to ISIS and those with vested interests. Several wore traditional Arab keyiffas and white thobes. Most were in business suits.

A large screen next to a huge map covered the wall behind Omar. He commanded respect. All present recognized his power and ability. His recent healing by Allah gave him unmitigated rule. He knew it and he used it. A worldwide caliphate was still possible, and he was anointed to make it happen.

Omar stood regally and looked each man in the eye. “I believe the shooting down of the Malaysia plane has accomplished several goals. Malaysia, as you know, is one of our first caliphates. Because some rebelled and became Christians . . . ” Omar spat. “We dumped them in the ocean.” The men chuckled and smiled. “No one can figure out why a plane just disappeared. Well, now we’ve shot one down over Ukraine as well.”

Omar forced no emotion to show on his face. “I want this to continue. It has taken the world’s attention away from ISIS. It has stirred up the Ukrainians, and they try to defend themselves from world opinion. We want continued skirmishes between Ukraine and the pro-Russian separatists.” He tossed a file at one of the men. “Yugol, I want the Russian military to get those separatists more weapons.” Pointing to a spot on the map in eastern Ukraine, Omar continued. “Right here, Yugol. This is the tunnel. Just like the Hamas, I want these completed. Let Lemkrof know we will assist with the funding. He needs to step it up and shoot from Russia, as well.”

Omar took a drink from the water bottle sitting in front of him. “Speaking of tunnels . . . those Jews in Israel have found some of them. Yemi, you’re adding tunnels into Israel, is that correct?”

A young man in a thobe and checkered keffiyeh stood. He walked around and tapped the screen. A map came up and with each tap increased the size of Israel and Gaza. Red lines revealed the tunnels already built. Yemi pointed out the eight discovered by IDF ground troops and cursed. He then pointed to those just completed outlined in blue. “This one here is the most promising. It gives us the ability to fire on the airport in Tel Aviv. It will only take a few missiles to cause the U.S. and other countries to stop all traffic in and out of the airport. That will kill the economy of Israel.” He laughed. “Whatever works, right?” The young man sat down.

Omar smiled. “Not only that but having missile launchers in the residential areas definitely helps turn world opinion against Israel when they retaliate.”

Omar nodded at one of the other men. He stood up and zoomed the map into the countries of Iraq and Syria. “As you know, Israel decimated half of Damascus with their strike and much of Syria’s military. They think they have the upper hand. They have no idea of our resources. Fortunately, ISIS was not deterred by that. We had moved our headquarters to Mosul. Again, we have expelled or killed”—Omar smiled and raised his eyebrows—“or tortured before we killed, all the Christians. Mosul is now totally Muslim. And I rather like it here.” The men clapped.

“We know we’ll run into resistance, but we’re well prepared. The U.S. trained Iraqi soldiers are weak. We torture, they run away. They have fortified Baghdad, but we have time, we have weapons, chemical and military, and we have money. They think Iran will help them, but we will eventually take over Iran as well, or . . . ” He tilted his head. “Maybe Israel will take out Iran for us.” Everyone laughed. “Whatever works.”

“So, in summary, we will take Ukraine and move into Slovakia and Czech Republic, cutting off a lot of U.S. assistance in the European theater. The U.S. President will continue to vacillate while assuming that his words accomplish great things.” Omar rolled his eyes. “By the time they assist Ukraine as they promised years ago when Ukraine got rid of their nuclear facilities, we will have taken over through Lemkrof. ISIS is just waiting for the right time and we will have all of Iraq and possibly Iran. If we don’t get Israel in the next few months, I’m confident Hamas will destroy their economy. I want more planes shot down, more missiles shot, more land taken over.”

Omar spread his hands. “This is what we were born to do. This is the plan of Allah. This is the caliphate. This will usher in the Twelfth Imam.” A shiver went through Omar. Deep within he felt the words. “Remember I will pursue you until you pursue Me.” Omar bent over and coughed.

Two men jumped up to assist, but he straightened himself and lifted his voice. “Men, you know your assignments. We will have our caliphate!” All the men stood up and cheered.

The men filed out to honor prayer time and get something to eat. Omar gathered his papers and files, placing them in his brief case, and glanced up. An older man stood just inside the door opposite where the others left. The shiver he felt just moments before returned.

“Grandfather, what brings you here? I’m feeling fine, no need to check up on me.” Few people could make Omar’s knees shake. Actually no one could intimidate him except this one man. Grandfather had the heart of a lion, but it was surrounded with steel. Omar knew his love, but he knew even better his authority.

“It’s your brothers.” Grandfather stayed where he was. There was no movement toward Omar. Somehow this was not a good sign.

Omar bolstered all his strength, feeling like a little boy in trouble at school. “What has happened? Are they okay? What is it?”

Grandfather did not answer until Omar stood just two feet away. “They have left. Gone to Qatar.”

Omar smiled, hoping to hear good news. “Joining our cousin released from Gitmo to get some terror events started in the U.S. That’ll be great. I haven’t heard from our cousin and planned to contact him later today.”

Grandfather shook his head. “No, son, Daran and Saiim got a small taste of power and liked it. Your returning from the dead did not sit well with them. They want you to go back there. Yes, they want you dead. Your cousin was only too happy to accommodate their desires. Whether he will work with them to take you out or he will just use their energy to accomplish his own plans, I don’t know. But you are on their list.”

Omar glared. “Theirs and everybody else’s. I will get a couple of my guys on their tail. Should I take them out, Grandfather?”

“They are your brothers. But, we shall see.”

“What do you think is their plan? Hamas is with us and Qatar is funding Hamas.”

Grandfather stepped toward Omar and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know how slippery loyalty can be. Hamas only wants money, next to Israel’s demise, and if Qatar or Turkey provides it, or your brothers, they will do anything. Let’s walk. You need to know something.”

The sigh rose up within Omar and it came out. He tried to hold it back. He did not have time for a lecture. He, Omar, was the lecturer now, but this was Grandfather and as a grandson, he could not dissuade the old man from what he set his mind to do. He walked.

“The drone. Remember the drone.”

“Yes, well, no. I don’t remember it, but I remember that it happened, and I almost died.”

“You did die, Omar.”

The shiver again. Omar ignored it. “Are you hungry, Grandfather? Food is being served down the hall.”

Grandfather stopped. “Omar. Look at me.”

Omar stopped, sighed again, turned and looked at the old man. He wanted to look at his watch. He had business to do. This was not the time for . . .

“The drone was from your brothers.”

Omar saw white. Then he saw black. Red rose in front of him next. Then he took a breath. He turned and slammed his fist into the wall. Every blood vessel in his neck pulsed.

“I should have known. I should have known. Why are you just telling me this?”

Grandfather shrugged. “Omar, believe me, I just found out myself. When they left, I went through their technology. They didn’t know I had access. However,” Grandfather looked at Omar. “I know. I should have been checking before. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t check it. Please forgive me. They tricked me into thinking they were totally with me, with you.”

“Grandfather, I forgive you. Do you have anything that can help me now?”

“Only that they are in constant contact with your cousin in Qatar. I assume that is where they have gone. You are welcome to go through the technology.”

“I will send someone home with you to check it. Right now, I need to return to the meeting room. I have much business to conduct today. Thank you, Grandfather for letting me know. I’m sorry I cannot spend more time with you.”

Grandfather nodded, then grimaced. He placed his hand on his chest and breathed in deeply. The old man momentarily slumped against the wall and sweat poured down his face. Omar grabbed his arms, but his grandfather shook his head. He straightened himself with much effort. “You do your work, Omar. Be careful. I am fine, simply old.”

Omar called to his assistant coming down the hall to attend to his grandfather and examine the technological secrets of his brothers.

Omar watched his grandfather walk slowly down the hall with the assistant, then turned and retraced his steps to the meeting room. He signaled to another of his men, who had already returned from prayers and eating, to find him some food.

Glad to know it was his brothers, vying for power, who tried to oust him that day in Damascus, Omar still felt unsettled. They were at it again, and with the Gitmo terrorists who had a lot of methods up their sleeves. And who knew which of his assistants may have been won over or bought by his brothers. Omar cursed under his breath. He hated living suspiciously. He wanted to be in control. He was in control, but who in this room wanted his brothers in control.

He informed his body guards, hoping none of them had been bought out while he was in the hospital. He told them to be constantly doubly vigilant. He would not live afraid. He would live alert and in charge. That’s it. It was settled. He made a couple phone calls. There. His brothers would be history very soon.

He’d like to take out his cousin, as well. But he would wait to learn what the technology information revealed. His brothers had to go now. Omar did not have time to worry about them. He knew it would grieve his grandfather as he loved them as well, but this was now necessary business. Grandfather had not been effective in controlling them, so it was Omar’s decision. Omar was in charge.

His grandfather died of a heart attack that night. Omar’s assistant had just finished searching through the computer connection his grandfather had maintained. One person in Omar’s circle had been revealed as joining the brothers. Omar shot him the moment he found out. There was no evidence that his cousin in Qatar was with them. Perhaps his cousin thought the brothers were bringing information from Omar. Well, hopefully they wouldn’t arrive.

Omar had no time to properly bury his grandfather. He left it to other members of the family. His oldest brother maintained a business and had a family. Omar asked Mustafa to take care of the arrangements. Mustafa was even-tempered like his grandfather and understood Omar’s predicament. He had never shown jealousy over the favoritism shown to Omar. He would take care of matters.

In the early morning, at the time of pre-dawn prayers, Omar slipped out to see his grandfather’s body and confess his love and respect for him. Instead of two bodyguards, he allowed four to accompany him. He did not know if his other assistants had taken out his brothers yet, and he did not want to find out for a while. He would not be able to look his eldest brother in the eye if Mustafa found out about Daran and Saiim at this time. In war, that loss would be just what happens. But, in a family honoring the patriarch, the death of younger men would not sit well.

Grandfather was laid out in a grand room. The body guards remained outside the door. Omar went in and stood still by his grandfather. The emotions rose up and Omar tried to stuff them down. Respect was all he needed to show, not feelings. Grandfather might even frown on emotions. Still they rose up and leaked out his eyes. He could taste the grief. What would he do, now? Grandfather was his strength.

Omar began to shake and fell to one knee. The tears were flowing freely now. You are my help, Grandfather. You are my strength. I owe everything to you, Grandfather. How will I be able to lead well? You had my back. You were my main advisor. I will trust Allah. I’m anointed by Allah, now, aren’t I?

Omar found himself on all fours, overcome by grief. I don’t have time for this. I will grieve another day. I must go.

The room seemed foggy. He wiped his eyes, chiding himself for being so emotional. Then the shivers began.

Omar closed his eyes and shook himself. He stood up and found himself face to face with the King.

“Noooo! I am alive and well. I do not need to see you. I don’t need to talk to you.”

“Your grandfather loved you Omar. He loved you intensely.”

“I know that.”

“I love you more.”

“That’s preposterous. You are a hater. You don’t exist. Don’t talk to me.”

“Look where your grandfather is, Omar.”

There before him was the black cloud again. As it thinned, the pit became visible. Flames flew out trying to lap at Omar. He jumped back. Cries of anguish arose from the pit. Then Omar heard it. His grandfather’s voice. It held fear and pain. Grandfather was calling Omar’s name.

Omar shook and walked to the edge of the pit. A look of hope briefly crossed Grandfather’s face. “Omar, Omar, listen to him, listen to the King. Omar, we were wrong. This is not paradise. It is the place the Christians call hell. Omar, we were wrong. Forgive me Omar. Believe this man. Do not come here. Do not let your brothers come here. Follow Him, Omar. He loves you. He will guide you.”

“No, no, this is a trick. This is not true. My brothers must have drugged me. I am hallucinating. This is not happening.”

Grandfather extended his hands toward Omar. “It is not a hallucination. Your brothers do not know that you sent out your assistants to kill them. I did not know that until I got here. I know also that you put Mustafa in charge of honoring me. Am I not telling you the truth?”

“Of course, that’s true, but this is a hallucination of my mind. I know all that, so you know it.”

“Well, you don’t know this. Your brothers got word of my death and turned back. They encountered your vigilantes and killed them. They are arriving in a few minutes with every intention to murder you. That is not in your mind. Listen to this King. He is the true God. Follow him, son, follow Him. You don’t want to come here.”

The flames got hotter and higher and the black cloud rose up as well. Omar fell back, and the room returned. He took a deep breath and looked around. There was his grandfather lying without life where he had been before. Good, this is over. I must leave if my brothers are here. Thank you, Allah, for letting me know.

“No, Omar, it wasn’t Allah, it was me. Come with me, Omar. I will once more save your life. Your brothers are here.”

Omar wanted to protest but heard the struggle outside and knew his body guards and his brothers were clashing.

The King walked over to Omar and guided him over to another wall. Omar wondered if he would have to punch the wall out, but before he could prepare himself, they passed through the wall, then another and another. They were outside, and he saw his car and driver, but the driver was dead. The King waved his hand and Omar was back in his headquarters in his safe room.

The King sat down. “Now, Omar, you are safe from your brothers. They will be shaken that you are nowhere to be found as there is no other way out of that room. And you have a message for them when you next see them.”

“What?” Omar was confused. He did not feel strong or safe or even sane.

“Your grandfather told you to tell them to follow me.”

“They want to kill me. I need to kill them. I have work to do. I murder your followers.”

The King frowned. “I know. That’s one reason I’m here. You will not murder one more follower of mine. Their blood cries out to me.”

The shivers began again. The room became foggy. Omar saw a screen, like a TV, but bigger, vibrating. It seemed alive. On it he saw the city of Mosul. He saw Christians being thrown from their homes, heads being cut off, hands being cut off. And he heard their cries. “Father God, Lord Jesus, deliver us, set us free, make this stop. We praise You. We trust You.”

Omar sneered. “Their cries are unanswered. We will not stop. These people are unnecessary. You didn’t help them.”

“They are in the true paradise now. Heaven is a glorious place. And many Christians have escaped your henchmen. Look here.”

The scene changed slightly. Omar recognized it as a rocky area outside of Mosul. It was as if there was a remote control in his hand and he zoomed in. He saw Christians being led by IDF soldiers into a tunnel.

“No! That can’t be happening. How did IDF get in there? Why should they care?”

“The IDF are well able to locate tunnels with their new technology. They care for anyone suffering.”

Omar’s countenance returned to the sneer. “Well, thanks for showing me that. I’ll let my men know. We can close that up quickly.”

“Your phone doesn’t work, Omar.”

Omar quickly pulled out his phone. ‘No Service’ blinked off and on. He swiped and tapped, turned it off and back on, got up and walked around the room. Nothing changed.

“Sit down, Omar.”

He obeyed. He looked at the King. “You said the Christians in Mosul were one reason you were here. What are the others?”

“Oh, this is one of my favorites.” The King actually rubbed His hands together. The screen returned.

There was the little restaurant in Door County where he and Tassie ate breakfast. The young man stood with hands on each of their shoulders and prayed, “Dear Jesus, bring them to You.”

Omar shook his head and looked at the King.

“I love to answer his prayers. Simple faith. That’s what he has. That’s all it takes.”

Omar narrowed his eyes. “That kid is just a . . . ”

It was like a lightning strike. Pulling back, Omar felt a singe on his lips. He felt the King’s eyes boring through him.

“You will not deride my people, especially him, ever again.”

Opening his mouth, Omar had a retort. Nothing came out. He tried to make his mouth speak. His voice was gone. With wide eyes, he looked at the King.

“It’s time to listen one more time, Omar. I have plans for you. Your grandfather had plans for you. You have plans for you. Your grandfather knows now that his plans and your plans are wrong. You have touched My people, Jews and Christians alike. If you read My book, you will find out that I win. It’s time for you to make the right choice, Omar. I set before you life and death. Choose life, Omar.”

The King stood and walked over to Omar. Glorious colors and shafts of light flowed from His being and filled the room. Warmth and love embraced Omar. He saw himself walking down a street with a beautiful woman and three children. They entered a building filled with people and music. Omar and this family began singing with the group, lifting their hands in praise. To his surprise, he then got up and began reading from the Bible and talking to the people.

The vision faded. Then he saw himself standing before the men he was with the day before. He was once again ordering planes shot down, people killed, armies to advance, rockets to fly. His brothers walked in and he shot them. Shortly thereafter his cousin arrived. Omar went to greet him, and his cousin shot him. Then the flames were licking at him. His grandfather cried out, “Omar, did you not hear me? Did you not tell your brothers? Did you not listen to the King? Oh, Omar, my son, why did you not listen? You always listened before? Now we will all live in this agony forever.” Cries of agony echoed off the walls that were covered with scorpion looking creatures. Pain filled his body.

Omar waited for the vision to fade as the first one did. It did not. The heat, the pain, the regret, and agony continued to build in and around him. He looked around for the King. Why didn’t He stop this and tell him to make a choice again? He had no voice and he could not call out. He began to tremble. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps he had been killed. Perhaps this was actually happening. Fear engulfed him. Grandfather lay on the floor of this awful place writhing in agony.

Omar fell to his knees to help Grandfather. No matter how hard he tried he could not reach him, could not touch him. Only inches away, he could not get there, he could not help the only person he truly loved.

Why? Why? Why can’t I get there? Why isn’t this ending?

Nothing. Please, please, King, get me out of this. Omar placed his forehead on the floor. “I choose life. I don’t understand all this. But I will follow you. I do not want to be here. I want life. Please help me, King Jesus. Forgive me.”

The heat lessened. The flames disappeared. His grandfather saw him leaving and whispered, “Yes, yes, thank you, son. Follow the King. Tell your brothers. Don’t come here. Live, son, live.”

Omar called back. “I will, Grandfather. I will live. I will tell my brothers. Thank you.” His voice was back. The room was clear. The King stood before him.

“Omar Tugani, I will now live inside you. I will never leave or forsake you. I will give you wisdom that you could never attain on your own. I will first guide you safely out of here. You will encounter your brothers in a few days and you will share with them. They will make their own choice whether to follow me or not. Pray for them as the young man prayed for you. Your most important mission now is to assist the U.S. and Israel in stopping the plans that you have set in motion.”

Omar listened and then looked down. “I am to betray my people?”

“Omar, your people have chosen a path of death. You will stop as much of the evil as you can, and you will help them choose life.”

“They will kill me.”

The King smiled. “If they do, you have seen where you will go. Heaven is quite nice. But, Omar, I have great plans for you, and you will not die anytime soon.”

The next day, the remaining half of Damascus and most of Syria was destroyed by an earthquake.