3

Marrakesh, Morocco

Moroccan media mogul Zhor Rhazziq looked at his phone as it pinged with a text message from his informant near Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

Seven birds are flying .

To Rhazziq that meant a battalion of paratroopers were headed to Iraq or Syria. He logged the information in the back of his mind as he stood in one of his many studios in Marrakesh. However, the more pressing situation at the moment was what he was seeing on the giant plasma television screen, which was showing real time footage of the burning orphanage in Tanzania. As the primary competitor to Beckwith Media, Al Rhazziq Media dominated the Northern Tier of Africa, most of the Middle East, and parts of Southern Europe.

With the orphanage attack as his trigger, Rhazziq nodded to his friend, Dr. Hawan Quizmahel, who stood in front of a television camera with an indistinct blue tarp and AK-47 assault rifle as his background. The doctor began speaking.

“I say to all of our African brothers who can hear me over the radio and the television and by any other means that I have discovered a cure for your dreaded diseases, AIDS and Ebola. As you know better than the Zionists, one African dies every ten seconds of AIDS and one African contracts HIV every fifteen seconds. Thirty-five million Africans have died from the disease, and another ninety million are dying a slow death from HIV infection. That is nearly one half the population of the African continent.

“In the same way, Ebola threatens to kill the entire western region of the continent. Every minute, another African is infected with Ebola. These are weapons of mass destruction brought to you by the Zionists. Islamic State scientists and doctors, including those in ISIS, began experimenting many years ago to find a way to help the people that the infidels have left behind. They treated you as their slaves, and now they have abandoned you in your time of greatest need. Over fifty percent of our continent’s population is suffering from these terrible viruses, yet where is the wealthiest nation on earth? Where are the others who can marshal the resources to help you? They are nowhere to be found. Worse, they use the Ebola affliction to send armed invaders to your countries. They use you for their own materialistic and imperial purposes to fund their crusade against Muslims. They only come to you to help now that they fear the far-reaching spread of the Islamic State’s good work. As we promised, we have used the money from our leadership and your support to work diligently to find the cure to the Ebola and human immunodeficiency viruses that plague your people. We have good news for our African brothers and sisters today. We have found the cures. Africa will soon be out from under the grip of both plagues that have taken the good lives of your family and friends for decades. Soon, we will begin mass production of these formulas so that they are easily ingestible or otherwise introduced to the suffering subject’s body. We will establish outreach clinics in your most remote regions, and we will provide the cures and vaccines free, of our own goodwill. Rest assured, the Islamic State and ISIS seek to bring medical relief and unity to the African continent, God willing, and to rid the world of these Zionist viruses spread by their immoral ways.”

Rhazziq watched Quizmahel remove the small, black foam-covered microphone from his white tunic and walk toward him. He left the AK-47 leaning against the blue tarp. He wouldn’t need it where he was going, Rhazziq thought.

“Your words will live beyond our lifetime, Doctor,” Rhazziq said.

“Inshalla .” God willing , he said. “Is there any progress on finding the American formula?”

“Soon, very soon,” said Rhazziq.

They had better find it soon , Rhazziq thought, as he had just directed the doctor to tell the world he had the cure, when, in fact, they possessed no such thing. Though he had taken the necessary steps to secure the recipe.

In addition to being a wealthy media tycoon, Rhazziq was also the diaspora leader of the Islamic State, which was a broader transnational entity than ISIS, making ISIS a subset of Rhazziq’s organization. Rhazziq’s goal was to dominate the Northern Tier of Africa and link it to the burgeoning ISIS movement in Syria and Iraq. Like a pincer movement, the Northern Tier fighters would connect with those on the Arabian Peninsula to crush the American coalition invaders. Then, a true caliphate would provide sanctuary for terrorists to slowly bleed the Western world of its treasure, both human and financial.

“Rhazziq, my brother,” said Quizmahel. They hugged.

“I will miss you, my friend,” Rhazziq replied.

“I am ready to be martyred,” Quizmahel affirmed. “But you are too valuable to be near my broadcast. Please, you must leave, Rhazziq.”

“Morocco is my home. But I will go upstairs as you walk outside and rise to the holy place where we will one day meet again. Your announcement will further strengthen the caliphate. All Muslims will follow those, such as you, who are leading the way.”

“Inshallah .” God Willing .

“Go in peace, my friend.”

He hugged Quizmahel one last time. He watched his friend step outside into the teeming streets of Morocco’s Red City. Shimmering waves of heat rose from the mud street of this Marrakesh Souk el Kebir, leather market, like the hypnotic sway of a tamed cobra rising from a basket. Out of the corner of his eye, Rhazziq saw the rooftop sniper and flinched as he visualized the man squeezing the American-made .50-caliber weapon’s trigger.

But no shot came immediately. This momentary lapse gave him time to cycle through his Koranic verses and to visualize the virgins who awaited his friend. Quizmahel had cancer and had been given less than a year to live. It had been Rhazziq’s idea for his friend to martyr himself and stage the assassination. The time had come.

Rhazziq had once met the American president, Jamal Barkum, after his election in 2012. The president had visited several African nations to better understand the culture and seek understanding between the West and the Arabic populations in Africa and the Middle East. He believed the man to be an Arabic sympathizer and wondered how he would react to Quizmahel’s murder, if at all. Regardless, the true targets for his operation were the people of Africa. He needed fresh manpower to fight.

Just like those who had hijacked the airplanes on 9-11 had altered the course of history, so would Rhazziq. He knew his plan was massive, something he called The Greatest Mind Game in History. He had one major goal: to establish the caliphate. The best way to accomplish that goal was to keep America at bay.

Rhazziq’s mind reeled from the thought of a bullet entering his friend’s head. But he knew that death would be immediate, as would be the release of his friend’s soul.

From the partially opened curtain, Rhazziq watched the doctor walk across the dusty street. He found himself mentally picturing the shot. He eyed the sniper across the street on the rooftop, waiting and expecting.

Quizmahel continued forward, slowing a bit as if wondering why the shot had not occurred, when suddenly a young boy on a buzzing moped sped past him in the opposite direction. Rhazziq’s last thought before his friend’s head blew apart was that he had indeed created the most masterful psychological operation of all time.

The high-pitched whining of the moped’s engine muted the shot, but as planned, the NATO caliber bullet had entered the doctor’s skull and killed him instantly.

He watched his friend tumble to the ground as the moped raced by. Immediately, Rhazziq removed his satellite-enabled wireless device from his vest pocket and sent a note to his operative in Tanzania. Even Rhazziq feared the man he called The Leopard. Better to have him hunting for the HIV and Ebola cures in Tanzania than prowling the streets of Marrakesh or Rabat.

If The Leopard failed at the mission, which was unlikely, Rhazziq’s backup plan was to spring Paul Inkota, a man he called The Cheetah, from the Rwandan war criminal prison in Arusha. Known for killing with two swords swinging like a pendulum in the Rwandan killing fields over twenty years ago, The Cheetah would be ready for a fresh kill.

But first, The Leopard. Rhazziq’s message to him simply read: We need the medicine .