For the Love of God and the Arab Rising

  Chapter Thirty Five: David in Beirut. David strolled across the concourse, the hustle and bustle of the airport a cacophony of noise and confusion. And then he stopped in his tracks, a dirty looking Arab in traditional robes walked straight up to him and stopped directly in his path; he was smiling in an obviously too friendly a manner that put David on edge before they started. He asked David if the architect would like him to carry his bags. David complained about the heat and in doing so moved his shirt which brought his chain pendant into view. Ah said the Arab my name is Zaqaria Mahmood and I can see that the architect does in deed request the help of my good self, please follow me. Zaqaria took control of David’s luggage trolley and proceeded with some pace towards the exit and onwards to the car park. David followed. A new, but dirty Range Rover awaited them; Zaqaria loaded the bags and before David really had time to take it all in they had exited the car park and were on the main road that would lead them into the mountains. David was duly requested to get in the back where he would find a change of clothes more consistent with mountain travel for the region. He found some trainers and Jeans. ‘Trainers and Jeans’ ‘Yes David, This is a modern world no? You are so white and obviously European that it would be foolish to present you to the border guards as a tribal warrior no’? Please put on the clothes and the head gear; it is quite common for European travellers to wear Jeans on how you say; the bottom half and full head gear to keep the sun and sand off, on the top half.

  By the time he had changed and climbed back into his seat, they were well on their way and both he and his contact started to settle into the journey ahead; it was also starting to get dark and Zaqaria switched the head lights on. The open road led them away from the city and the landscape soon changed to one of cactus, sand and rocky hills. They climbed steadily into the hills. During this time, they double checked his passport and visa for entering Lebanon. David was to pose as a tourist visiting friends that he had made on a similar trip last year; Zaqaria was this friend and he had picked him up at the airport and was now returning to his home with David. The rest of Zaqaria’s family were waiting at home, in Lebanon, for them both. The trip was much quicker than David would have ever imagined, only an hour past by before Zaq warned they were approaching the Syrian check point. There was no ambush by anti-government militants or wild bandits; which was a concern on this trip and David started to feel comfortable about his progress, it was short lived though. They were approaching the Syrian border crossing and David’s heart started to thump that little bit harder, he looked nervous. ‘Take it easy David, remember to breath’ ‘I’m fine Zaqaria, keep going’. Two soldiers with automatic rifles approached the vehicle as they slowed down for the barrier. Once at a halt, Zaqaria spoke to one of the guards in Arabic and he seemed to be satisfied with his story, but spoke in quite a firm tone about something David could not understand. Zaqaria opened his driver’s door, the heat of the desert rushed in to the vehicle, overcoming the air conditioning; the guard looked around the interior of the vehicle as if just looking at the quality of the vehicle. David took a deep breath to calm his nerves and the guard closed the door. Zaqaria and the guard then walked around to the rear of the vehicle, where the guard repeated his inspection; the tailgate opened and then slammed shut some two minutes later. He then walked up to David’s window. Two sharp taps on the window jolted David into lowering the window. ‘Papers please’ ‘Yes sir’ David presented his passport and visa. Zaqaria returned to his seat in an attempt to look nonchalant about the whole thing and the guard returned David’s paper’s without saying a word; then signalled to the guardhouse to raise the barrier. Zaqaria fired up the Range Rover and they cruised through the check point. Both men took a deep breath and exhaled, the action releasing the stress and tension from their very souls.

  It was now another 18 km of empty road, across a no man’s land to the Lebanese border control and the final check point. They were not safe yet, both men were very aware of the continued danger they cossetted to ensure a successful pilgrimage. Zaqaria drove at a steady 50km per hour, his experience from living in the area his whole life told him that any faster or slower would be suspicious, if he got this wrong, they risked a full search and possibly several days of incarceration. The road was not lit, everything was black except for their headlights until they rounded one last corner and the Lebanese checkpoint came into view some 3 kilometres down the road. A truck immediately appeared in front of us and rumbled past in the opposite direction, blinding us for a second with its multiple headlights; then just for a second, our lights illuminated a silhouette of the driver within the darkness of his cab. Zaqaria slowed for the checkpoint; stark flood lights illuminated the concrete approach and search points. A single soldier directed them to a search lane to the left, where three soldiers waited in readiness, one with a sniffer dog, to search any vehicle and its passengers for drugs, guns and money. The area was rife with smuggling: terrorist groups transported money, guns and ammunition, and ordinary folk would smuggle anything they could sell on the black market; with no jobs from industry or tourism, everyone was desperate to earn advantage from anywhere they could. Zaqaria engaged the handbrake and exited the Range Rover. The three soldiers stepped forward with one thought in mind; to complete the search, the most thorough and intrusive search of mind, body, luggage and vehicle. But then, just as David resigned himself to being caught, or at least detained for some hours; a senior ranking officer observing the action from within his office rapped on the window and rushed out towards them, he had recognized Zaqaria as a local and greeted him with a friendly handshake. To David’s amazement, they chatted in Arabic for some time and occasionally looked over at David, smiled and then laughed out loud; the two adjacent soldiers obviously trying to maintain their composure also. Zaqaria returned to the four by four and they went on their way, the senior ranking officer giving one final friendly wave to Zaqaria as they drove off. ‘What was all that about’ ‘I told him you were a magazine researcher returning to visit my family; you were working here last year as a researcher for your magazine when you became friends with my family’. ‘Well I know that from my briefing, I didn’t think it was funny though’? Zaqaria continued to amuse himself about the whole thing as David continued to look out the window; they hit the desert road and accelerated away from check point and onwards towards Beirut. ‘I also told him you were courting my daughter’ ‘What’! David was not sure how to take this, the culture here was obviously different and he wasn’t sure if Zaqaria was joking or not. He reminded Zaqaria not to mess around, there was no time for foolish behaviour; the mission was far too serious and must come before anything else, even his death. Zaqaria understood David’s position but was unrepentant and reminded him that he had lived here all his life and knew that man well. The man is a known womaniser and very popular in town; he had told him exactly what he would have wanted to hear, some tall story to make him laugh. ‘I love my daughter more than life itself, but Allah was not kind to her when he sprinkled this land with beauty; my daughter did not receive one speck of his favour’. This is why the security officer, a friend of mine, was laughing so much. ‘Oh I see. David remained quiet for the rest of the journey and looked forward to the welcome he was sure to receive at the house of Zaqaria Mahmood.

  David and his contact arrived in Beirut at 11pm, it was very late, very hot and he was extremely tired. His mission notes informed him of a hotel in the metropolitan area of the city, should this contact let him down, but he did not feel this was necessary at this time. Beirut is a surprise to many; it is listed as a top place to visit by ‘The New York Times’ and the MasterCard Index lists the tourist spend in Beirut at an incredible $6.5 billion dollars. The twinkle in his eye, and the ever so slight grin, would let anyone who knew him assume he would be adding to that tourist spend within hours. Zaqaria worked his way into the suburban streets of Beirut which looked to be in surprisingly good order. Zaqaria parked on a small piece of dusty ground at the end of a very narrow suburban
street; they removed his bags and locked the vehicle. As they walked down the dark and narrow street, the buildings looked as if they were two hundred years old, this place felt totally alien to David and he only felt safe because he was with his contact. He could smell coffee and spices as he walked past houses with flickering lights, and noises of family life filtering through the windows. It was three or four hundred yards to the house, so David looked about him taking in all the sights and sounds of this back street in Beirut. He looked up at the night sky, it was clear of any cloud cover; like a black canvass with a thousand pin holes letting through intense specks of light. But David’s eyes were not smiling; this was not the image of Beirut he was expecting at all. Zaqaria suddenly stopped and rapped on a small wooden door; some seconds later it slowly opened and the occupant nervously checked the identity of her visitors. ‘It is me my good family, Zaqaria’ The door immediately opened wide and they were welcomed in by Zaqaria’s good wife; she was quite small, maybe only five foot tall and dressed head to foot in a modest robe. He could not see if she was smiling or not; but her eyes conveyed a message of compassion and friendliness. ‘Come in, quickly please’ The house was warm and gently lit, and very small, but obviously comfortable. They were guided into a back room where his daughter and young son were sitting on the floor. Zaqaria offered David the one and only armchair, he and his wife sat at a small table. Every one smiled and made him feel welcome; he was offered some hot food from the table. ‘Please David, eat.’ ‘What is this Zaqaria?’ ‘It is a baked Falafel pita bread sandwich with a chilly dip, and these are hot roasted water melon and pumpkin seeds. Please eat with your fingers, please eat. Would you also like some tea?’ David accepted the hospitality of his contacts family and enjoyed the food. He was then guided upstairs and given one of only two rooms; he assumed the children were going to sleep on the downstairs floor. This was not to David’s liking; he loved children and this was just not his style. The culture shock was too much; he would go to the hotel and work from there. He asked Zaq to call him a taxi. Zaq protested and informed him that his contact was due to meet David here at the house; he would now have to get a message through to change this arrangement. He asked David where he would be staying; David replied: Hotel Phoenicia. Zaq had no telephone so they walked back down the narrow street to the main approach road and hailed a taxi. David thanked Zaqaria profusely with all the charm he could muster and then jumped into the taxi. Zaq had now to walk to his good friend’s house, from there he could warn his contact that mother’s friend had relocated, he was not pleased.

  Once the taxi had speed away from the kerb, David informed the driver where he wanted to go: ‘Hotel Phoenicia’. The driver’s eyebrows raised, it was an expensive hotel, this was a pickup in a cheap part of town and David didn’t look the part. The driver was interested and started to ask questions. ‘You speak English, yes?’ ‘Yes’ ‘are you here on business Sir?’ ‘Yes’ they were on the main road out of the suburbs now and joining the slip road to the main city road. David closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose; the humidity of the place smoothed over the smell of traffic and reminded him that the city had much more to offer. Much to his amusement he was sure he could once more, smell coffee and spices, the smell seemed to be everywhere. It was 3 or 4 kilometres to the hotel so Paul sat back and watched the night lights flash by; some 20 minutes later and the smell of coffee and spices was overcome by the smell of the sea. The hotel was famous for overlooking the Mediterranean Sea; situated on the famous boardwalk “Corniche,” a few minutes from the city’s business and banking district, and the ever lively and entertaining “Down Town city Centre. This would suit David just fine; he would hit the town tonight and sort out business tomorrow afternoon. He proceeded to question the driver on the night life and of course: where the Casino was. ‘Down Town is so cool sir, you cannot miss; pop, jazz and how you say sir: Booze?’ ‘That’s good but what about a casino?’ ‘Only one sir; Casino Du Liban: It’s the one and only Casino in Lebanon, located on the hill overlooking Jounieh Bay and the sea’. ‘Well at least there’s one’

  They arrived at the hotel; it was beautiful in architecture and location, and directly on the seafront. A nagging thought lingered though, he was very aware that although his veins pumped with excitement and his nostrils flared; dark thoughts of consequence were nagging at his conscience. He would soon have to find the more business side of his persona, and very soon. He could feel the hardness of his upbringing edging its way to the surface, the side of him that often erupted into violent conflict with whoever dared to challenge him. But for now, he would get to his room, clean up and then head for the hustle and bustle of the Casino. Tomorrow was another day; he would find his contact and get serious, tomorrow.

  David strolled into the grand entrance lobby and he immediately felt his body react; his skin tingled, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his heart skipped a beat. From experience, he knew what was happening to him, his brain had just received a massive dose of dopamine. He was experiencing a gambler high, but being the professional ‘amateur’ that he was; he absorbed the initial shock to his system: that he was likely to lose his money and approached the reception desk. ‘Good evening sir my I see your passport?’ ‘Here.’ ‘Thank you sir, please enjoy your stay.’ The roulette wheel spun and the little white ball bounced and tap danced it way to its final resting place. A few muted cheers immediately sounded; but a very loud and excited squeal identified the lucky lady amongst the men, she jumped with joy and flicked her long black hair; her partner hugging and kissing her on the cheek with more joy than lust. Her eyes bright with delight, she spotted David in an instant, her own animal magnetism subconsciously pulling her towards a warrior amongst men and him to her. The sexual excitement of wining and seeing David at the same time dropped her guard and her message of availability drilled across the room as their eyes flashed at each other and locked, just for a second. David stretched his back, stood tall and broke away from her line of vision and those quite beautiful, dark and mysterious eyes. He strolled calmly and purposely towards the blackjack tables. Money was everywhere, on the tables, in the expensive clothes that brushed past him and in every glint and sparkle of gold, platinum and stone encrusted piece of jewellery. You could literally smell money and it was intoxicating; David was in heaven. He found a seat, took off his jacket and laid £500.00 sterling on the table. The croupier swept up the money and counted it in a second and laid the money out on the table once more in evidence of his count. ‘What nomination of chips would you prefer sir?’ ‘Fifty thousand Lebanese Pounds please; I believe that will give me twenty chips at today’s exchange rate?’ ‘Very good sir’ The chips clicked as the croupier counted from the tray; his fingers moving with the precision of a classical guitarist. He laid out the chips on the green baize with one swoop of his dextrous hand, David scooped up the chips and moved them around in his hands, enjoying the sound of the chips knocking and kissing each other. The first card was dealt; David received a ten of clubs. ‘Place your bets please’ David threw down £50,000.00 LP and waited for his second card.

  Then a slender hand placed itself on his shoulder, the light touch and whiff of expensive perfume let him know it as obviously female; he was about to turn around when a sultry voice whispered in his ear; ‘It’s a ten David; it’s worth a hundred thousand at least.’ She leant over, took another £5,000.00 LP and placed it on the first card. The other players finished betting as David turned around and recognised the woman he had the pleasure of on the way in. ‘Well hello.’ ‘Pay attention David.’ He was dealt a four. Not good. ‘Keep going David.’ He was aroused, but in control; at least he thought he was. ‘A seven David; See, I told you so.’ David picked up his winnings and asked her to accept a drink. They strolled to the bar; the whir of the casino forever in the background, twenty four seven. ‘What is your name?’ ‘It’s Serena. And you are David.’ ‘How do you know that?’ ‘I was alerted when you handed in your passport.’ ‘I wa
s expected then.’ ‘Where else would you go David? with your reputation.’ ‘And who may I ask is the approver of this exciting meeting.’ ‘Why mother of course David, our dear mother.’ ‘Do you have the symbol of her love?’ ‘Of course David, see here in my bag’ David looked downwards into the opening of her bag and could clearly see a circular emblem made of gold, one more glance proved it to be a Vitruvian man. ‘It’s time to talk then, is it safe here?’

  Serena seemed to ignore him and went on to discuss local political matters regarding Lebanon. ‘Since our dear country gained its independence in 1943 our government has been well run and found peace and prosperity; our economy has boomed with the help of tourism, peace and equality for our citizens; but our political process has been infiltrated by terrorists. The prime minister: Rafiq Hariri was assassinated in 2005 which was followed by riots as the Hezbollah backed ‘Najib Migati’ was proposed for the role of Prime Minister. The whole area has been sensitive ever since; the commercial area around the rebuilt government offices can be paralysed for days at the slightest mention of trouble. We have had a decade of growth, peace and sheer pleasure for living since the civil war that crushed our city; but our people have become once more, used to road blocks and army guns coming and going at a moment’s notice. It is our duty to bring a lasting peace to the Lebanon and the Promised Land. Once Phase one is complete we must move fast: I have a meeting with Mr Migati: the Hezbollah prime minister designate and our president Michael Suleiman, tomorrow at 8pm. They are due to attend two days of consultation with associate political parties to negotiate and form a new government. It will not be a success unless the funding for Hezbollah is cut from Syria. Certain parties in the Middle East, rich and powerful: are funding terrorism to squeeze Israel out of existence, inciting tension and civil war to bring down governments and regain control of the region.’ ‘How did you get close to Migati?’ ‘My womanly charms; and keen mind I might add, are a formidable weapon. I am also a senior officer in the secret police which is funded by the Hezbollah. I work from the same government offices as Mr Migati. And like any man with power and money, apart from wanting more power and money; they want sex. In this case I am pleased to report; it is not boys or men, but women he wants, and plenty of them.’ ‘Charming I’m sure.’ ‘Do not judge me David; my country and people are on the verge of civil war due to the evil infiltration of our political system. And if we succeed in stopping this, we will create a lasting peace throughout the entire Middle East. Far more important things are at stake than my morality.’ David apologized; but he could not help himself, he was attracted to Serena and was jealous, clearly jealous. He was mesmerised by her Arabic features, the clear olive skin and wonderfully dark brown eyes. She was beautiful indeed. He managed to clear his mind and get down to business. ‘How do we manage to meet this Mr Migati?’ ‘There is no cloak and dagger here David; these people are in power and they are expecting me by prior arrangement of Najib Migati. But you are the surprise they are not expecting. We are to meet in the local government buildings. Migati and the president will be due to address the political parties once more in 24 hours’ time; because of my influence we will have one chance to see him before this most important event. I will pick you up at 6pm tomorrow David, be in the lobby of your hotel promptly at 6pm, no later.’ ‘I am staying at the…’ ‘I know where you are staying David; do not be so naïve for heaven’s sake; even if you should have been at Zaqaria’s house!’ Now I think that is enough gambling for tonight David; time to go home wouldn’t you say?’

  David stood up and blindly followed Serena to the exit as she weaved her way through the busy casino. He was over 6 foot and powerfully built; men could not ignore his presence when he entered a room. Serena was over 6 ft in her heels and of a slender, even light build; yet she showed no sign of being in fear of him and clearly remained in command, David did what he was told and went back to his hotel. It was 530am and the hotel lobby was quiet, except for the coming and going of hotel staff; David sat in the adjacent dining room eating his breakfast and gazing through the smoked glass wall that divided the two busy areas. He had not slept since returning from the casino and could think of nothing else other than the mission; and Serena. The dark skin; the slim but athletic legs and taught mid rift were a beautiful sight to behold, and the eyes, the dark brown eyes that diminished him to boyhood. He finished his breakfast and returned to his room, jet lag and no sleep for 20 hours was enough to finish anyone. He booked an alarm call for 4pm and set the alarm on his watch. After a shower, he lay on his bed and drifted off to sleep. Woken abruptly by a frantic knocking at his door, he sat bolt upright and scrambled for his watch. It was only 430pm, the hotel alarm call was late and he had slept through his watch alarm. He tied up his dressing gown and opened the door. It was Serena. ‘Your late David and we have no time to waste.’ ‘I am not late.’ She strode into the room and signalled for her very large, but obviously junior security officer to stay outside. ‘You would have been if I hadn’t broke the door down; now get dressed please.’ David found himself doing what he was told once more by this very beautiful, intelligent, vivacious and confident woman. Today; she was dressed in a black pin stripe suit that hugged her curvaceous waistline and empowered her even more than the evening dress she wore last night at the casino. He smiled at her and went to the bathroom to get cleaned up. She ordered coffee, toast and orange juice from room service. Once David had dressed she poured the coffee and proceeded to brief him. David took a bite of the toast. ‘Do not speak until you are spoken to David; he is not expecting you. I have smoothed my way into the prime ministers life and he has agreed a meeting as he clearly likes me. Once I have explained to him that the ruling Syrian Dynasty is about to fall upon the assassination of the President Bashar Al-Assad and the army will take control, he will listen to what you have to say. Only then will you have your chance to convince him your solution for peace is achievable and that by accepting the proposed plan for a Government of Unity he will achieve his aims and produce a lasting peace. What we want to achieve today via the Unity agreement is Religious Union, for all the people of god’s earth. I believe in mother David; this is your moment. Are your friends ready?’ ‘Yes. Solomon is the key. He is in Damascus and awaits the completion of Phase one; the timeline is tight though, we only have 4 to 6 hours for Solomon to complete his mission or the whole pilgrimage will fail. Saul is in the West Bank, using local resistance groups as a means to communicate our plans to release the West Bank and the Golan Heights back to the Palestinian people; to honour the pre 1967 boundaries. Unless we do this we will never convince the young Palestinians not to support the Hamas and Hezbollah. The 1967 six day war devastated their way of life; most fled their homes and farmland as Israel took control of the West Bank and the Golan Heights. The Israeli’s benefited greatly by gaining control of the area and building the west bank barrier which drastically reduced terrorist acts; preventing suicide bombings, missile launches, and Syrian troops firing upon the Israeli people and controlling local water resources. Mahmoud Abbas will be in attendance tonight also; the moderate leader of the Palestinian Liberation Organisation. Successor to Arafat; he is the key component to our success in creating the Government of Unity. We must convince him our actions are for the good of his people.’ ‘Is he not FATAH? Born and bred.’ ‘Not quite. The PLO under Yasser Arafat was considered a terrorist organisation, and Arafat founded FATAH in 1959 as a political tool to achieve his aims for the Palestinian people. But Abbas is a moderate, who has instructed his followers not to attack the Israeli’s; he is another piece of the jigsaw which will come together to build our road to peace and religious union. The PLO was formed in 1964 and originally wanted the destruction of the Israeli state and the creation of a Palestinian State in its place. Mahmoud Abbas succeeded Yasser Arafat on his death; but it must be said that the PLO changed immensely during Arafat’s reign as chairman of the PLO, which was considered a terrorist organisation until he changed his outlook during the Madrid
Conference of 1991; when it was stated that the PLO recognised Israel's right to exist in peace, accepted UN Security Council resolutions, and rejected "violence and terrorism"; in response, Israel officially recognized the PLO as the representative of the Palestinian people. It was a massive leap forward, Arafat protected the rights of the Palestinian people, but now Mahmoud Abbas has the chance to ensure a lasting peace and unity for his people. In past decades, dozens of suicide bombings and assassinations have killed thousands of Israeli Defence personnel and civilians; nothing will be fruitful until we can create a Government of Unity, agree our policies and give the people peace. If you can communicate our success in controlling the money men, they may, just may, believe us. If this communication fails, many more will die in the following repercussions. Who is your operative in the Gaza strip?’ I informed her Kish was in Cairo, but should by now, be in the Gaza strip. As the crossing point was closed, his contact was chosen as he knows a local business man who runs one of the many tunnels into the Gaza strip. He will pay his way into the strip and locate the Hamas leaders; it will be easy enough, their spies check everyone coming in and out of the strip; so they will find him. He is looking for Mohamed Deif: the Gaza commander of the military wing of the Hamas. There has been a cease fire since 2005 and we believe the Hamas leaders are ready for the Religious Union; they have no choice if the PLO and Hezbollah become politically viable in a newly formed Government of Unity. And they will quickly agree when we pin down Musa Abu-Marzuq: born in the strip in 1951, he is an engineering doctorate and bases himself in Syria. When the Syrian army takes control, they will imprison him also. He negotiates with the Syrian government parties and in doing so, controls and finances the Hamas even if he is not directly declared the leader. Her one remaining question was how we managed to convince Rabbi’s, Ayatollah’s, and the leaders of the Hamas and Hezbollah to talk to our contacts? The centrepiece of our intelligence has always been Sheik Hassan Yousef: the son of the founder of The Hamas. Yousef was released from an Israeli prison and given asylum in the states. Now in his fifties; he denounces the violence and is considered by many experts to be a pragmatic and guiding hand to the peace process. The participation of Yousef in a newly formed government would promote moderation within Hamas and the Hezbollah. The job of our missionaries is to communicate this compliance to our cause and give the other pro-Palestinian groups confidence to cross the threshold to peace and unity. ‘It is time David; we must go.’ They left the room and strode toward the lift lobby. A guard positioned himself at the front and a second at the rear of them. The guard upfront was brisk and abrupt if any civilians blocked their path: hardly subtle; but Serena was not in the mood for subtlety and the guards had been briefed as to what was expected of them in advance. As they exited the hotel lobby, David could see two motorcycles leading a motorcade of two limousines. The driver of the first vehicle remained in his seat and at the ready; the officer in the front seat immediately got out and opened the rear door for Serena and her guest. Once seated, the limousine doors were closed and the two body guards sat in the rear vehicle. Once every one was seated the motorcade slowly pulled away from the beneath the hotel canopy. They were on their way to meet the leader of the Hezbollah; who could soon be the leader of the Lebanese government. He was a major player in this generations influence over the politics of the Middle East and would give them access to Mahmoud Abbas also.

  The motorcade glided through the busy streets of Beirut towards the central district and the newly built government buildings; most of the city was rebuilt after the 1975 civil war that reduced most of the city to rubble. The streets at this time due to civil unrest and the subsequent clamp down were empty and nothing hindered the progress of the motorcade. The centre of Beirut is a no man’s land once more since the assassination of Prime Minister Rafiq Hariri and the political upheaval that has since followed. The slightest hint of decent on the streets and the army closes everything down. As they approached the centre of town and the Grand Serail government buildings; David was shocked to see the building protected by a line tanks and razor wire. Serena noted David’s shock reaction to the terrifying vision before them. Are you shocked David. Well yes; is there really a need for all this? Of course David; since the assassination of our prime minister and the subsequent collapse or our government the army has taken control. If the correct authority to run our country is not present, our streets are not policed, and a new leader is not elected in a correct and democratic way, what else can you expect but protest in the form of anarchy and riots? The motorcade was waived through the security checkpoint and came to a halt at the main entrance. The limousine doors were promptly opened by yet more security personnel. They gathered behind Serena and strode with purpose through reception and into the lift lobby; passing security guards at each door and lobby. Exiting on the 3rd floor, Serena led them into a massive conference room the size of which David had never seen before; armed guards stood in each corner, silent and motionless. A large round table with full conference facilities filled half of the room; the other half was obviously set up as an auditorium and cinema.

  Four people were sitting together at one side of the table and although all of this party were engaged in a furious discussion of some importance, they stopped immediately on us entering the room and gestured for us to sit at the opposing side of the table. Serena was up front as her rank and position demanded; she stopped at the opposite end of the table to the incumbent’s and smiled at the man in the centre of it all. He stood up and smiled warmly at Serena, it was obviously Najib Migati, the nominated Prime Minister from the Hezbollah; Serena’s friend. David recognized the others instantly: Dr Musa Abu-Marzuq, deputy head of the Political Bureau of the Islamic Resistance Movement, Hamas, and head of its delegation to Egypt. Then Michael Suleiman, the Commanding Officer of the Lebanese Army. And finally Mahmood Abbas, the President of the Palestinian Authority. ‘Please sit Serena; sit. And who is your friend?’ ‘This is David; a friend of mine and our people as a whole. He has a very interesting proposal for us all and is here to help us.’ David was as nervous as hell, but this was his moment, he must convince these people to seek out a lasting peace. He stood still, took a deep breath, his head spinning with messages that he must convey. They were looking at him, wondering who an earth he was; it was Michael Suleiman who spoke next: And who are you David? To walk in here on the slight invite of my good friends bedroom partner. Serena went to complain, but Najib shot her a look as if to say: not now. Then Mahmoud Abbas spoke: I know who he is; he is mother’s missionary. I have been told this day would come by our good friend in America: Sheik Hassan Yousef. But I did not believe him; I am still finding it difficult to believe even though he is stood in front of me now. Listen to him my friends he has a very interesting proposal. David asked Serena politely if he may speak, in turn, Serena then asked Najib Migati; they both looked at David at nodded for him to proceed. ‘Before I commence, may I ask that the guards be instructed to leave the room. What I have to say is extremely sensitive and for our ears only.’ Michael Suleiman, the Commanding Officer gave an abrupt order in Arabic and the guards promptly marched out of the room. ‘Gentleman, please listen very carefully, I have a very important message for you all. I have been sent here by people more influential in this world than you can ever comprehend. Without the bullet or the bomb they have shaped this world to ensure plentiful funds are available, to ensure a plan seven hundred years in the making will be recorded in the histories of all our peoples. Today I can offer each of you 5 Million Euro’s; guaranteed by the World Bank. Mahmoud Abbas cut in abruptly: ‘The World Bank exists to give development loans to ailing countries for redevelopment under strict conditions. Who is going to repay this money?’ ‘We do not need to borrow this money; mother has amassed tens of billions in readiness for this moment.’ And then Michael Suleiman spoke: ‘Five Billion; ha, do not make me laugh. What fantastical terms would be attached to this generosity, Englishman?’ David took up the mantel once more
and pushed on in his attempt to win them over, and instructed them that within two hours President Bashar Al-Assad of Syria will be dead. That in Damascus, the Lt General was approached some time ago by Sheik Hassan Yousef and is a sympathiser to our cause. The Lt General has already had secret meetings with his most trust worthy commanders and issued orders in secret. When the assassination is confirmed and the final order is given, the army will arrest all the Baath party members and 13 of his 14 regional governors; Governor Ahmad Khaled is already assisting us and is part of mother’s team. Any party member who agrees to our terms and joins a new ‘Government of Unity’ which will initially be selected by us will be released. Upon the confirmation of President Al-Abbas’ assassination; the Hezbollah, Hamas, FATAH and PLO will realise their political ally has been removed from the equation and if other funds are not secured their organisation is at risk of collapse. They will have no choice but to negotiate with our missionaries and accept our terms of peace and unity for all of Gods people. It is time to stop this bloodshed. They will all be offered seats in the Government of Unity; they will not refuse. ‘A government shaped and proposed by you; a silky white westerner! Do not seek to fool me sir! What is democratic about that?’ Dr Musa Abu-Marzuq was incensed with rage at David’s proposal. But, David pushed on as he could see Mahmoud Abbas, who new Sheik Hassan Yousef warming to the overall proposal. David’s mission notes advised Abbas and Yousef were moderates, and that both men had enjoyed a fruitful relationship with the American foreign policies department. This was proving to be correct; both men were quietly helping David nudge the negotiations along without being too obvious. Mahmoud Abbas raised his hand to stop David and pulled Abu-Marzuq away from the table; they spoke in private at the rear of the room. Serena looked up to David for the first time and touched his arm; he returned a terse smile and returned his attention to the other side of the table. Some minutes passed by before Abbas and Abu-Marzuq returned to the table, Abbas kept his cover by looking indifferent, whilst Abu-Marzuq looked resigned to the fact that this political upheaval was well underway and he may have to join the new agreement or be frozen out. Mahmoud Abbas placed one hand in friendship on the shoulder of Abu-Marzuq and looked up at David and Serena, and asked them to proceed. Abu-Marzuq looked up also and asked David to proceed. The narration continued: ‘After our Government of Unity are selected and issued a fair distribution of representive seats. A new constitution shall be agreed by all parties’ allocated seats within the new government; to include a clear understanding of citizen rights, voting systems, localised regions of governance and state borders. Then, 12 months’ from the completion of this momentous task, a national vote, free from corruption, will be held to renew or re-elect candidates for the governing party. This 12 month window of opportunity will allow elected members to prove their efficiency for the job in hand and popularity with the people.’ David felt his sat phone vibrate in his pocket. ‘Excuse me gentlemen.’ He read the message: phase one, complete, inform our new friends, go to phase two. Success, Solomon had completed his mission. David felt his heart race; his eyes were wide with excitement. ‘Gentleman I can inform you President Bashar Al-Assad is dead! Our time has come!’ Musa Abu-Marzuq jumped up in unbridled anger. Never, this is outrageous nonsense. Guards! The other three, Mahmoud Abbas, Michael Suleiman and Najib Migati, instantly jumped to David’s defence; they could see great potential for wealth and power. They stopped the guards entering the room and huddled round Abu-Marzuq to calm him and make him listen. ‘This is our chance; to have our say, become rich and give peace to our people. What more do you want?’ ‘A Palestinian State, it is our God given right; and what about Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu?’

  There will not be a State of Palestine or Israel; but a united land of god where all religions will be tolerant of each other and share this land. We will have to find a new name for it that represents the unity of our people. The only way we can achieve peace and fulfil our promises to god is to share this land. The world will look upon us with wonder and all of our people will live in peace and prosper. And Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu of Israel is ready; he has repeatedly told you sir- he was pointing at President Mahmoud Abbas: that the programme of settlements in the West Bank is not the cause of the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians. The reason for the conflict has always been, and unfortunately remains, the refusal of the Palestinians to recognise a Jewish state of any kind. As you can see if he gives up Israel as a Jewish State, and you release your people from a 3000 year old struggle to hold a recognised Palestinian State; thousands of lives will be saved and you will release the Promised Land from this evil we call terrorism. You will all have a seat on the Government of Unity: The Hezbollah, Hamas, Palestinian Liberation Order, Jew, Christian, Druze and Muslim, will all have equal seats in the government of Unity, and equal access to the Holy history of Jerusalem. Michael Suleiman stood up. ‘I have a question for you David: What about the Old City, The Temple Mount, The Western Wall, The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, The Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque?’ He became more animated as he proceeded to name these most important historical and holy sites. ‘You cannot just tell people we have to give up these things, it is not possible!’ David reassured the meeting that they would not be asked to relinquish control of these most holy assets; but to open your doors so that others may share them. And most importantly, we shall build a third temple of unity to honour the one true god YAHWEH; this will enable the second coming as predicted by our holy scriptures.

  At this point Najib Migati stood up and joined the furore: ‘The second coming will come from all directions like a colossal flash of lightning, sound and light will come from every corner of the universe; and then, the son of god will return to Judge us all.’ The room fell silent. Only Musa Abu-Marzuq looked dissatisfied: ‘Bashar Al-Assad was my friend and political ally, but he is gone now. I agree we must proceed, what is the point of fighting if Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is prepared to give up Israel. We must get our most trustworthy men to relay this message of unity to our commanders on the ground, before they retaliate for the death of Bashar Al-Assad.’ David and the others thanked him profusely; they all looked satisfied with the outcome of this most important meeting. Everyone should instruct their commanders to call in immediately to communicate our message. All party leaders will then be requested to attend a conference in Jerusalem and we will commence our first meeting of unity; to discuss the interim period before we raise a fair and honest vote to allocate seats for the Government of Unity. I held out my hand and we all shook hands in vigorous agreement of the plan.