Chapter Thirty Eight: Back in Damascus. Sol awoke at 630 upon a sharp knock at the door; he scratched his head and rubbed his face. The Rabbi was already awake and sitting serenely at the table drinking coffee. ‘We have two hours before we must leave’ ‘Thank you, where’s my coffee’? ‘In the pot where I found mine, where else’? The Rabbi had ordered breakfast an hour ago and had left some for sol. The curt reply was a reminder for Sol to get a move on and be more serious; he did not reply, but pulled his robe on, poured a coffee and looked out of the balcony window. The sun was already high in the sky and he temperature was rising, his European sensibilities liked the warm weather in November; it was freezing at home. ‘You have one hour to be ready Solomon’ ‘Yes Rabbi, I am surprised Quedo has not reappeared since I last saw him’ ‘He will appear when you least expect it, be on your guard. He will kill to court favour from his leaders’. It was soon 9AM and it was time to start what would be a democratic and religious upheaval of the Middle East. They strode out of the hotel and took a left instead of the required right turn that they would have normally taken. Secret police, Quedo or paid street spies would be everywhere; they must take precautions. Solomon could hear chanting in the near distance, another day of protest had begun. They would walk twice the distance they needed, too provide reassurance they were not being followed, they would then cautiously approach the Mosque. The Ayatollah was a good friend of the Rabbi; they were both from differing religious and cultural backgrounds, but they were educated and compassionate men who cared for their people. They wanted to help mothers pilgrimage.
The Rabbi was following a route that Sol was sure would miss the Mosque completely; he stopped the Rabbi and asked him where he was going. The Rabbi instructed Sol to trust him. They could not enter the Mosque by the front door; they were not civilians queuing to pray: they must enter the Mosque covertly. The Rabbi led him down a long narrow street, uneven underfoot. He suddenly stopped and approached a wooden door of a very old house, its frontage small and narrow. He knocked, twice, but softly; the door opened slowly, a set of dark brown eyes peered back through the ajar door. ‘Come in Rabbi, quickly’. ‘Good day my brother, how are you today’. ‘All the better for seeing you in good health; is this our man’? ‘Yes, this is mother’s messenger; without them we are nothing’.Solomon entered the small, dark room. Only two men greeted them, they were dressed in dark robes from head to foot. One of the men instructed them to follow him deeper into the house, into the rear room. The house was damp and dusty, so much so he could smell it. He tugged at a rug and revealed a trap door. Sol’s eyes lit up, this was reassuring and gave him hope. Before entering the man opened a small cupboard and grabbed several torches; he led the way down a ladder into a dark basement area, there was no lighting. Once everyone was in the basement, the other man closed the hatch. They were plunged into darkness until one by one, beams of lights leaped from the torches and cut through the darkness. The Rabbi tugged at a large iron ring on the wall. Sol could just about make out a square outline on the wall but was still shocked when half the wall suddenly moved toward him; the wall didn’t hinge like a normal door, it came toward them and allowed access via the sides. They entered a dark, dank tunnel and pulled the wall closed behind them. The Rabbi told Sol the tunnel was 2000 years old and used to allow secret access to a Christian basilica that occupied the site before the Mosque was built. Sol did not reply and followed them further along the tunnel, they walked for some twenty minutes and what must have been at least half a mile; then the floor seemed to rise beneath his feet, they were ascending. The gradient of the rise increased and Sol could feel the strain on his thighs as he dug in and followed the Rabbi and his guide. They were then looking at a wooden door which opened easily, but the ground had not levelled out and it was difficult to grab the frame of the door and pull himself up and into the room, which was not lit, dark and dank. But the other door, obviously to exit the room, let shafts of light through. The other side was lit and would provide the final exit from this dank tunnel. The guide produced a key and unlocked the door; they stepped through into what Sol instantly recognized as a crypt of some sort. There were several people there, waiting and expectant. The Rabbi’s guide returned to the tunnel without speaking, Sol and the Rabbi stood silent for a moment until the Ayatollah smiled, welcomed the Rabbi in Arabic and lifted both arms as a gesture of welcome. Then in turn, the district governor, and Minister of defence spoke to the Rabbi with a positive but caution tone of voice. After, and only once cultural protocol was complete did they each turn to Solomon and welcome him to their homeland and wish the pilgrimage a successful outcome. ‘Let’s talk my friends’ the district governor sat on the cold stone seating provided within the crypt. The others follow suit. Sol respectfully asked to speak first. The Rabbi nodded his approval. ‘Gentleman, as you are well aware, the next 24hrs are critical to our pilgrimage and you have all taken great risks to be here. The fact that you are here proves you agree with our plans and we can agree to go to phase one. Minister, you are the key to it all; is the army on our side, do you have the armies senior staff on board? Are they ready? Do they have a man ready for the hit’? ‘Yes, the coup d’état is ready; if I give them reassurance the district governors and religious leaders are on our side, then they are ready. And yes we have not one, but several men ready for the hit. The president will be addressing the National Progressive Front and Ba’ath party leaders tonight to discuss how to finally crush the rebellion. But now we have come together as one; we will cut the head from the snake and our people will be free. Governor, as one of 14 district governors; are you and your brothers ready to allow the Minister to lead a temporary government, a government that allows the peoples council to take their rightful place and truly be heard. And have influence on day to day policies and law. ‘Yes I am, once the fateful shot is fired; I and the security elite will take prisoner the president’s favoured vice presidents and his prime minister. They are hardliners that we could not risk approaching to join our glorious rebellion. They will be detained. The Rabbi now spoke to the Ayatollah; we must be seen to be in unison at this precise time. We must both speak in our respective chambers of worship and communicate our messages of love and democracy for our people and their future. We can live under a regime no more that practices war and oppression its people for its own gain. Minister, when will your army general order the shooting? The emergency meeting of the Security Council is being held in the great hall at 2100hrs tonight. All the heads of state will be in attendance, the President and his Vice Presidents; the Prime Minister, all 14 district Governor’s and of course all 100 of the Ba’ath party and the minor party leaders. Our marksmen and his backup man will be installed in an adjacent building; the plan is to assassinate the president as he exits his car. The team will begin this process once I have left this meeting and given the signal to the High General of the armed forces; he will issue the final command for the hit team to take up their positions. The man who pulls the trigger will change history; he will be a hero of our time, but a silent one, many pro Al-Bashar supporters will hunt him until his dying day. Solomon was pleased. ‘What time will you strike’? The president’s motorcade will arrive at approximately 2030 hours and he will be escorted into the great hall. It is during this time, when he approaches the entrance to the great hall that our men will have their one and only chance to take ‘The Shot’. The moment the shot is fired my troops will be ordered to take control of the great hall; and in doing so arrest the ruling elite and Baath party members of the Syrian government. You governor will leave immediately and take control of the security forces and ensure you control the districts. You must communicate our coup d’état to the Alawites and the people of all Damascus. Solomon looked at the Rabbi and the Ayatollah: Our religious community leaders sat here today with us, have managed to bring us together, to this place where past and present will collide and provide new futures for us all; but they must also announce to the faithful that we are set free and the Minister o
f defence will lead the new government of Syria until a democratic vote can take place.
Today would change the world. Solomon had only to press send on his personal Sat phone and an encrypted message ‘Bashar dead, phase one complete’ would bounce of the communications satellite and directly inform London and his fellow pilgrims that phase one was complete. Further news had reached Sol that individual soldiers, albeit lower ranking Sunni conscripts; were turning rebel and taking their weapons with them. The problems for Bashar Al-Assad and his ruling party were multiplying by the day. But here and now: the Rabbi and Sol looked at each other with anticipation, the noise outside was one of a thousand footsteps, striding forward with determination, anger and frustration; he opened the balcony doors and stepped out to look. Hundreds of civilians were parading past as they headed for the main square; dozens of red and white Lebanese flags being systematically waved back and forth in unison to a thousand voices chanting and clapping:
Jews and Arabs refuse to be enemies!
No peace, no welfare. Down with the government!
Jews and Arabs refuse to be enemies!
And then from the far left of the street: the harsh crack of gunfire split the air like a knife; people panicked and ran, some to the door ways, others getting trampled and fired upon. Sol could see several falling to the ground with gunshot injuries. It was the Alawites, a Shiite sect that makes up the backbone of Assad's security forces. They will fight for the life of the regime, less they be persecuted if the Sunni Muslims gain power. Crack, crack: followed by thud, thud: as bullets ricocheted off adjacent stone work: shards of stone and sun baked mud rained down on the fleeing masses. Men and women fleeing, screaming for mercy as they ran; some slumped next to kin and friends alike, tears streaming down their dirty, dusty faces. A man, his head gear discarded, stumbled by holding a young teenager in his arms, maybe it was his son or a friend. Sol came away from the balcony and re-entered the shade of his hotel room, he could feel the anger and frustration of the crowd curse through his veins; he looked directly into the eyes of Rabbi Shraga Simmons. ‘Tonight cannot come soon enough Rabbi; we must act decisively. What if the hit team misses as he exits the car? We need a backup plan, we need an inside team. What shall we do? The Rabbi sat quietly at the table. ‘Do you know of the Torah Solomon?’ Yes it’s the 5 holy books of Judaism, the words you live by.’ Correct: what about the book of Deuteronomy?’ ‘I’ve heard of it, but I do not know it.’ ‘Well, it’s the fifth book of the Jewish Torah and of the Hebrew bible; the book consists of three sermons delivered to the Israelites by Moses on the plains of Moab, shortly before they entered the Promised Land. My brother the Ayatollah and I agree this book leads us all to a path of righteousness and a love for all our neighbours. Deuteronomy states: If you are not able to make a decision as to who is responsible for a death, or who is right in a cause, or who gave the first blow in a fight, and there is a division of opinion about it in your town: then go to the place marked out by the YHVH (YAHWEH) your God; And come before the priests, the Levites, or before him who is judge at the time; and they will go into the question and give you a decision: And you are to be guided by the decision they give in the place named by YHVH, and do whatever they say; Acting in agreement with their teaching and the decision they give: not turning to one side or the other from the word they have given you. Do you know YAHWEH Solomon?’ ‘Yes Rabbi, our mother teaches us he is the one true god. God has empowered your mother to be the judge of our time and I am the instrument of this judgment. I will do it. I will have access and a god given right to be at the great hall of our oppressors. I will sacrifice myself to free my people.’ Solomon listened to the Rabbi’s sermon with some interest and was about to protest against this fine gesture, when he stopped himself. He realised there was no other option; the Rabbi was courageous and disciplined in his faith; and he would not fail. You will need a pistol; here, take mine. Do you know how to use it?’ No. You will need to show me only once. Please now, carry on.’ He proceeded to show the Rabbi the essentials of small arms operation. The pistol could easily be concealed in his robes and the Rabbi would be introduced to the president on his entry to the building.
Staying in the room all day was not easy, periodic, but erratic and noisy clashes could be heard outside and Solomon was keen to get involved. But he could not afford to be arrested or at worst injured or killed. He must remain in his room until the plan was ready to be executed. Some six hours later and it was 1800 hours; the Rabbi was expected at the Mosque and Solomon could hit the streets now it was getting dark. They left the hotel and stepped onto the hot, dusty streets of Damascus. The street was still full of people, but it was calm. People were stood and also sat in groups of differing sizes along the street. Old, young, men and women, collected in their fight for social justice and peace for all regions of the Promised Land. They headed for the square; Solomon remained a good fifty yards behind the Rabbi as they picked their way through the crowd. It was then, in his peripheral vision that he noticed a common movement, someone moving at the same pace as them. Solo dropped back further and investigated. It was Quedo, he had been watching the hotel, for how long he did not know; but he was dangerous and obviously a security officer of some kind for the regime. What would he do? It was dark, but there were so many people around. He would follow, but very closely, he would need to react quickly if the Rabbi was threatened. As they approached the square, Quedo was closing in on the Rabbi; Sol could feel his whole body firing up for the kill; his breathing deepened, his mind focused on Quedo and nothing else. And then as they entered the square, the chanting started and the crowds pushed in around them. Sol pushed and shoved his way nearer to Quedo. Quedo pushed and shouted as he doubled his efforts to get at the Rabbi. Sol shouted and pointed at Quedo: ‘security! security’! People turned and looked at the pair pushing their way through the crowd. And then with no warning, the first of many punches was thrown by the man Quedo was pushing to get past; years of oppression, frustration and anger had to be released. Then everyone within reach grabbed, punched and pulled him to the ground. He screamed his innocence, but no one could hear him, once he had fallen he was finished; kicked and stamped on until he was unconscious, dozens of hands pulling at his clothes. Quedo would be dead in minutes. The Rabbi looked back at the chaos and for a moment felt sad for Quedo; but he must continue with his greater calling and continued on his way to the great hall. Some minutes later he reached the side entrance; two security guards approached the Rabbi, Sol held his breath. Just as they were about frisk him, the Rabbi protested his innocence and priority over such protocol. The guards took a step back as if shocked by the Rabbi’s display of indignation and let him through, Sol breathed again. The Ayatollah and the Rabbi soon appeared on the steps of the great hall and the crowd erupted into a crescendo of noise; hands clapping, voices singing, others chanting slogans of peace and equality. Sol checked his sat phone was ready and joined in the chanting so as to not stand out. He looked around at the adjacent buildings, trying to imagine the sniper priming his weapon, checking the sights and ensuring his position was right before calmly preparing his mind to execute the fatal shot. The slightest movement of his trigger finger would release a 7.62mm sniper round that would hit the target a split second before the sound of the shot was heard by people in the vicinity. Bashar Al-Assad would drop to the ground before a shot was heard, and then chaos would begin.