Chasm Waxing: A Startup, Cyber-Thriller
The armor had numerous pockets on the outside to carry ammunition. At face value, it looked like a vest with a lot of compartments. However, this jacket contained body armor plates. The nano titanium and ceramic plates could stop the standard issue US ammunition. Attached to the back of the body armor, between Rahmati’s shoulder blades, was a pouch. The quick release pouch housed Rahmati’s sole weapon.
Rahmati’s vest also contained four high-resolution cameras, looking forward and backward. The cameras could toggle between different modes, including night and thermal vision. A greenish hue imbued night-vision video, as it magnified ambient light. Thermal imagery contrasted blacks, grays, and whites. Hotter objects, like faces, appeared whiter. There were also colored implementations of the technology.
Clipped to Rahmati’s collar was a wireless radio. It allowed him to communicate with the other Immortals without hand signals. Rahmati also wore an earpiece to listen to his team and receive tactical intelligence from headquarters.
“I see two Daesh sitting in chairs on the front porch,” whispered Rahmati. He spoke in Persian, also called Farsi. “It looks like they are carrying AK-47’s without scopes. I’d guess there couldn’t be more than four or five in the house, including Omar.” AK stood for Automatic Kalashnikov. AKs were Russian-designed assault rifles. They were extremely durable and easy to use. AKs jammed a lot less than American weapons.
Rahmati descended the hill. He gathered the Immortals. Rahmati’s platoon was outfitted similarly to Rahmati, except they each wore the tactical combat helmets, equipped with night-vision goggles and A-pro helmet-cameras. Black bandannas completely covered the lower portion of every member’s face. The bandannas were painted to look like the bottom of the Immortal’s mask from the movie, 300. The force also carried a wide variety of weapons, including AK-74 assault rifles with scopes and silencers, VSS Vintorez sniper rifles, and PKP Pecheneg machine guns.
Rahmati addressed his Immersive Media Team. “Once we’re in position, send the drones up on my command. Fly one over the house using night-vision, and the other with the thermal camera active. Look carefully. Tell me if you see any other guards.” The drones used by the Immortals were military-grade quadcopters. They could stay aloft for almost three hours on a single charge. Above 20 feet, they were silent.
“I think Allah is with us tonight. Omar has so few soldiers with him. I want two snipers positioned on the hill. Take out the guards on my command. After that, provide security and overwatch. Keep an eye out for any reinforcements.”
Rahmati pointed to two Immortals. “I want you to flank the house from a distance of 100 yards. Provide overwatch with your machine guns. The rest of us are going to wait in position on the ATVs. Let’s do two men to each quad. Hadi and I will be the lead vehicle.” Rahmati’s ATV looked like a two-seat, militarized dune buggy. Communications gear filled the back seat. The other ATVs were ruggedized four-wheelers, used by Russian Spetsnaz.
“Once we’re at the house, I want you two to guard the perimeter of the house. Make sure no one escapes through tunnels or crawls out windows—eliminate all squirters. Remember, we’re trying to take Omar alive so that I can interrogate him. Gentlemen, Allah has prepared you for this very night. Be strong Immortals. Be bold like His Prophet, Peace Be Upon Him. Let’s move.”
Rahmati wore no tactical helmet. He did nothing to hide his face.
The Immortals lined their ATVs in a single row and waited for overwatch to get into position. While the Immersive Media Team were trained soldiers and carried assault rifles, they stayed behind at the staging era. Commander Rahmati radioed to deploy the drones.
Rahmati examined Hadi. His Deputy Commander’s hands tightly gripped the steering wheel of the ATV. Hadari’s knuckles were white. “You ready?”
“I’m more ready every day, Muhammad. I believe in what we’re doing here. I don’t want any of my children to have to pick up a rifle.”
“Me neither,” said the unmarried Rahmati. “These Caliphate assassinations are simply a means to an end. No amount of bullets are ever going to defeat an ideology as pervasive as Wahhabi-Salafi-Jihadism, especially as long as Saudi Arabia and their Gulf allies bankroll Jihadis.”
Whereas the West saw radical Islam as a security and military threat; Rahmati saw radical Sunni Islam as an intellectual threat. The first battle that Rahmati needed to win was the war of ideas. It was true that the West thought Iran was full of radical Shia-Islamists. America didn’t differentiate between radical Sunnis or Shias. This confused the Commander.
No Iranians committed 9/11. Every hijacker was a radical Sunni. 15 of the 19 terrorists were Saudi citizens. Osama Bin Laden was a Saudi, Sunni, Wahhabi-Salafi-Jihadist. No Shia’s had conducted direct terrorist attacks in Europe or America in decades. There were radical Shia-Islamists in Iran, but Muhammad Rahmati had a plan to deal with that minority.
After seven minutes, the drone operators stated it was clear. There were only the two guards outside the house. Rahmati raised his night-vision binoculars and gave the go-ahead to the snipers. Seconds later, Rahmati saw the green-tinted, blood-mist waft through the air. The kill-shots knocked the guards off their chairs.
“Go!” ordered Rahmati.
The Immortals raced toward the house at top speed. Each quad carried two men. One Immortal drove, while the second crouched on one knee, with a firm grasp around the driver’s waist.
The ATV’s raced over the barley field and arrived in front of the house. The Immortals on back rapidly leaped off and stacked up on the front door. Rahmati and his Deputy Commander jumped out of their covered ATV. Hadari had his AK-74 drawn. Rahmati’s hands were empty.
The Immortal on point opened the unlocked door. He stepped aside, leaving the second Immortal now on point. The new point man tossed in a flash-bang grenade. Now the Immortals infiltrated the house like the highly trained professionals they were. Off the living area, there were three other rooms. The Immortals split up to clear the house.
Within seconds, three Caliphate fighters were secured, hand-and-foot with plastic zip ties. This all occurred without firing a shot or any raised voices. But there was no Omar. Commander Rahmati called for his media team to enter the house and start filming. Rahmati lined up the three members of the Caliphate, side-by-side. They were blindfolded.
“Where are you, Omar? I am Commander Muhammad Rahmati of the Immortals. Tonight you are going to answer to Allah for your sins against Islam. You are a murderer of Shias, and Sunnis, and innocents. The Prophet, Peace Be Upon Him, founded a peaceful religion. You have twisted Islam for your own purposes. You’re nothing but a murderer—with a lot of Twitter followers.”
Chapter 21 – The Demise of Abu Omar
6:50 p.m., Monday, October 19, 2020 – Columbia, MD
SWARM Op Center, Sixth-Floor SCIF, Defense Innovations Accelerator
General Shields observed Rahmati’s every move on the SWARM Op Center’s video wall. Unbeknownst to everyone in the Dabiq house, four actively camouflaged Swarmbots witnessed the assault. Swarmbots penetrated the home earlier, but could not find Omar. So they patiently waited, tucked in corners—cloaked in plain sight.
“Where the hell did Rahmati get his intel?” snapped the General.
Samantha Powers sat at the General’s side. “Why don’t you kill them both?”
Because of the significance of the operation to kill Omar, the SWARM Op Center was in command of the Swarmbots, not Gamers. Seven days ago, a CIA team deployed the first eight Swarmbots on the outskirts of Dabiq.
NSA logistics told the CIA that the Swarmbots were a prototype surveillance platform. After deployment, the Swarmbots rolled through the small town. The drones stealthily performed facial and voice recognition, searching for Caliphate terrorists on the kill list.
General Shields was particularly pleased with how fast Chris Fischer implemented the kill-incapacitate features. He was
also impressed with how well the Swarmbots were wirelessly charging from the Flashcharge system. The Swarmbots used four times as much power when active camouflage and sound suppression was operational. But they didn’t miss a beat. Flashcharge provided a steady stream of wireless power.
Shields’ biggest disappointment was that the neural VR controllers from Prosthetic Thought were still unreliable. The Swarmbot analysts in the Op Center liked controlling the Swarmbots by watching a hi-definition video monitor and manipulating a joystick, similar to how pilots controlled aerial drones. Unlike remotely piloted aircraft, Swarmbots did not require a separate human operator to monitor sensors. It was bitter-sweet for the General to watch the Swarmbots clandestinely wheel through Dabiq. The sickening reality was that they were searching the very same streets Charlie once patrolled.
“We can’t kill Rahmati,” said General Shields, in response to Samantha’s question. “He isn’t on POTUS’ kill list. Besides, he may be Iranian, but he’s on our side in fighting the Caliphate. It’s ironic. Have you seen this guy on A-Tube?”
Samantha shook her head in disgust. “When do you think I have time to watch videos on A-Tube? I work non-stop for Gamification Systems, now more than ever with Becca gone.”
A SWARM analyst broke into the conversation. “Well, you should watch a video or two. This guy is incredible. He’s going to make history.”
*
Once the primary sweep was complete, the Immortals performed their secondary sweep. Upon closer examination, Rahmati spotted what looked to be a three-foot long, by two-foot wide trapdoor. It was in the far corner, on the living room floor.
The Commander motioned for his team to follow. He silently moved near the trapdoor. He told an Immortal to open the hidden entrance. The soldier pushed down on the lengthwise end of the trapdoor. This smoothly elevated the other side of the escape hatch into the air. Rahmati stood to the side of the opening.
Abu Omar rushed up the stairway from a hidden bunker, firing his AK-47 in bursts. Commander Rahmati dropped to one knee and slipped the rifle fire, like a boxer slips a punch. He was close enough to parry the hot muzzle of the assault rifle with his left hand. He pushed the gun to shoot in the air. Bullets sprayed the ceiling. Omar was clearly better at crunching numbers than he was with an AK.
Rahmati reached over his shoulder with his right hand and reached for the handle of a 16-inch, tactical tomahawk. The tomahawk detached from its quick release sheath, between his shoulder blades. The Commander viciously swung the hatchet into Omar’s left side, slightly below his rib cage. Omar squealed and dropped the AK. He clutched his side. Blood spurted between his fingers.
Rahmati threw the rifle down and head-kicked Omar, driving his shin into Omar’s temple. As Omar fell to the ground, members of the Immortals grabbed him and bound his legs to a wooden chair. They lifted Omar’s four-legged prison, setting it in front of the dining room table.
Making sure the cameras were filming, Rahmati began to interrogate Omar. Rahmati spoke in Arabic. “Abu Omar, once again the forces of the real Islamic Revolution have eliminated a high-ranking member of the so-called, Caliphate. This is further proof that Allah did not ordain your Caliphate.
“You’re nothing but a bunch of murderers and imposters. You malign His name. You’re an embarrassment to His Prophet with your illegal, bloodthirsty Jihad. Jihad should be an internal struggle for Islamic piety. You hijack basic tenets of Islam for your own selfish purposes. I’ve succeeded in capturing you, a feat that not even the CIA could achieve. Yours is not a Caliphate or an Islamic State; you are Daesh.”
“You Shia ape,” said Omar, wincing through his pain. Blood pooled under his chair. “Your Zionist and Roman allies shall die in this very city. Then we’ll defeat Constantinople in fulfillment of prophecy. After that, the Mahdi will come. Rahmati, you can kill me. But you can’t destroy this final, End of Days’ Caliphate. And you can’t stop the Mahdi.”
In Islamic apocalyptic thought and eschatology, the Mahdi was a Jesus-like, Islamic redeemer. In fact, many Muslims believed that Jesus Christ would join the Mahdi, ruling seven years before the Day of Judgement—also called the End of Days.
Rahmati retorted, “Well, the Mahdi will indeed come. Perhaps he’s already here. But your Caliphate is null and void. You rape nine-year-olds and force them to be your sex slaves. You murder anyone who disagrees with you. You are savage tyrants who want to turn the calendar back to life in 622. Your Caliph, Abu Mosulaydi, is Caliph of the dustbin of history; a Caliph of sectarianism, murder, rape, slavery, and destruction.
“Muhammad, Peace Be Upon Him, was a builder. He looked to the future. His Caliphate reigned for nearly 1300 years, longer than the Roman Empire. He architected the greatest civilization ever known to man.”
The term ‘Caliphate,’ had deep historic, religious, and prophetic implications. But in simplest terms, a Caliphate was an Islamic government. There was an Islamic Caliphate from 632 AD—just after the death of Muhammad—to 1923. The Caliphate ended with the fall of the Ottoman Empire. Western-centric history books typically glossed over this period of 1300 years, concentrating on the Greek or Roman Empires. But the Islamic Caliphate was an empire to be reckoned with. They nearly conquered Europe.
Rahmati continued, “The House of Islam created Arabic numbers, the scientific method, medicine, hospitals, and eye glasses. Long before the Internet and mobile phones; Islam invented the most viral product ever—paper! All of this occurred while the West prayed to the bones of their dead saints.
“600 years before the Magna Carta, Muhammad wrote the first document that guaranteed civil liberties for citizens of all faiths, the Constitution of Medina. That Constitution ensured civil rights for Muslims, Jews, and Christians creating a multi-faith ummah.”
The Commander nodded to an Immortal behind Omar. The soldier forced Omar’s right hand to lay flush on the table. Rahmati questioned Omar. Omar quickly spilled all he knew. He stated that the Caliph was in Raqqa, Syria—moving from house to house.
“Abu Omar, I pronounce judgment upon you this morning for the crime of stealing Islam’s future.” With a massive swing of his tactical tomahawk, Rahmati sliced off Omar’s right hand. Omar shrieked like a nine-year-old girl. Immortals led Omar and the other Caliphate forces outside. They made each man dig his own grave. Omar struggled to handle the shovel with one hand. No Immortal did anything to alleviate his burden. The special forces operators executed Omar and his team with headshots.
Rahmati held the bloody tomahawk next to his face. He looked into one of the TV cameras. “Brothers and sisters, very shortly Islam will be the largest religion in the world. We have a significant presence in three of the world’s seven continents. And we’re expanding all over the globe. But look at us. We shed blood over petty sectarian differences and feud like jealous teenage brothers.
“Why is America home to all the great entrepreneurial companies? Why does Europe make all the new discoveries in particle physics? Why does the Middle East, with the largest concentration of the most valuable commodity on earth, languish behind? When will we stop blaming the West? When will we stop blaming the Jews? Of course, they’ve wronged us. But we’ve let ourselves down. We must hold our dictators and their oppressive regimes accountable.
“How long must we see one another as victims? When will we see ourselves as the champions that Allah created? My fellow Muslims, followers of the Prophet Muhammad, it’s time to move past puberty and mature into adulthood. We must quit fighting amongst ourselves. We’re all descendants of Abraham’s son, Ishmael. Our blood feud between Shia and Sunni must come to an end. When will the lives of our children be more important than the status of our tribes?”
The division in Islam between Shia and Sunni occurred soon after the Prophet Muhammad’s death in 632 AD. A dispute arose over the Prophet’s successor. The impact upon Islam was comparable to the division of Orth
odox Church from the Catholic Church, although the analogy was imperfect.
Rahmati dropped his bloody tomahawk. It landed with a thud. His ice-blue eyes glistened. His voiced quivered with passion. “Brothers and sisters, we’re destined to return to greatness and build a superior empire, an empire in which all citizens participate and prosper. This empire will be full of good jobs, affordable housing, high-quality education, and innovation.
“Remember why Khadijah, a prosperous woman 15 years older than Muhammad, asked the Prophet to marry her? Muhammad’s ingenuity as a trader attracted Khadijah. Muhammad had superlative ideas and a strong work ethic, even in a violent clan society. Muhammad labored to end the sectarian, tribal violence between the Quraysh and Islam.”
The Quraysh was the most powerful tribe in Mecca, leading to conflict with Muhammad’s new religion.
“If the Prophet were alive today, he’d be engaged in science and business. He’d be contributing to the world of ideas. Our Koran and Hadith tells us that Islam is destined to rule the world, but we must cooperate with Allah to compete in the marketplace of ideas. We must allow our collective ummah to prosper, thrive, and flourish.” Ummah was Arabic for community.
“I call upon the people of Iraq and Syria, under the occupation of the Caliphate, to arise. I call upon able-bodied men to join me in Syria and fight for our future. Indeed, an End Time Caliphate is coming, but this is not that Caliphate. This Caliphate is illegal, as judged by our own Islamic scholars. This is no Caliphate; it’s just Daesh. They’re nothing more than a barbarous band of infidels.
“If you serve Daesh, your children will die before you die. And for no good reason; surely not as martyrs. Murder, slavery, and rape are no way to build a society. Join me. Let’s architect a new future for you and your children. A future in which everybody partakes and everyone prospers. Working together, we can change the world. A crescent moon, shining as bright as the sun, will wax again over the entire world. The future is now.”