“If terrorists wouldn’t exist… we would have to invent them.”
An unnamed CIA high official
The main square of a small Czech city, Beroun, located at conveniently short distance from the country’s capital, Prague, was renovated with great costs, to attract tourists and business. During the day, many people are roaming here for shopping, food or executing their daily routines, small cafés are full of hipsters, talkative mothers with children and digital nomads of the Millennial generation, staring at screens of their laptops, to create a big successful startup, and pubs are still keeping decorum, as everybody successfully covers his or her affiliation to alcoholic beverages.
But in the evening? Oh, the atmosphere of the city changes so much! Carefully hidden phenomena, denied by the municipal office, rise up to the surface, many questionable individuals woke up from their beds, to “conduct business”: local mafia, prostitutes, drug dealers and users, or simply party people, who are desiring to wash up their pain, failures and life disappointment in strong drinks, or illegal drugs, to have fun, or even meet a partner for the purpose of love.
Many bars, pubs and cafés thus welcome another sort of guests in the evening, men dressed in black leather jackets, with their hair suspiciously short and muscles suspiciously inflated, women with heavy makeup and short skirts, who are willing to share their bodily treasures, if you are a man enough. Themes of talk are changing as well: from legitimate businesses to plans of “big hits”, too easy and quick ways, how to get big transient money, “just last time”, and then to run away, not turning back from the Thai paradise, before the curtain of the law, followed with strict court sentence and order of long prison residence, will end your dreams about getting rich quickly, and Islam will remain your only way out.
It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and in a shady bar close to the square, where you could buy just anything, from a tiny drug dose to a RPG-7 anti-tank rocket launcher for a spectacular terrorist attack, although the venture was advertised as an innocent pool club “for family entertainment”, a lonely man was sitting, drinking a small espresso with water, speaking to a blonde waitress with good local language, but it was still significant, that he was born abroad, coming here twenty years ago as a refugee, during a ruthless civil war in Southeastern Europe, in Bosnia, where many war crimes were committed.
The night was slowly closing to an end, but the bar was still full of people, although it was a work day tomorrow. But these people, they lived mostly at night, and they spent days sleeping, so nobody seemed tired or anxious of the obligatory alarm clock tomorrow, waking you up mercilessly, to go to some multinational corporation, to be their mindless slave again, to help them to realize their malicious plans, to be paid with filthy gold coins, in order to pay the mortgage and feed the kids.
When another man came through the door, many present people greeted him. He was in his fifties, and it seemed that they all know him well here. No wonder: he used to be a policeman, and later, he left the local police force, to establish his own private security agency, to have freedom and more money, but naturally, he still kept many valuable connections, useful human assets, and precious knowledge, in his pocket.
Contacts were important for him yesterday, when he investigated small criminals, pickpockets and thieves, and also today, when he provided “security services” to local people. There was a rumor, that not everything of this business was legitimate, but the police were never able to prove him anything, as he knew all of his former colleagues, and he also knew a lot of filth about them, their past and present sins against valid law or morale, their vices and weak spots, useful for bribery or extortion…
His shady activities were quite tolerated, not considered too serious and harmful to the society: just marginal things, like legalizing stolen cars from Germany, some decent tax evasion… nothing, that would attract too much attention or public anger, like selling drugs, radioactive material or assassinations of inconvenient politicians… moreover, many people really desired to own a cheap but luxurious Volkswagen car, so the whole chain of “suppliers” prospered from this innocent business, including wives of policemen, and even municipal politicians and their families. Everybody likes to save money… so, why to pay too much to that car manufacturering thieves?
The new visitor headed to the bar, where he talked with several people, listening to their regular news and fresh public gossip, to be informed, what is happening in the city, as such information was crucial for his business. He pretended to come for a drink here, waving with a glass of beer, but his eyes were sharp, and his flirting with the blonde waitress could be considered as a part of his role.
People around knew well, who he was, what he is capable of, what he knows, but he always had respect here, as he could help in many problems, he remained silent and discreet all the time, and his advices were valuable against all the hungry and merciless sharks, vultures, rats and wolves around, dressed in decent business suits, but stealing your savings ruthlessly and with experience, like street gangsters.
So, the man was quite liked, and through time, people lost any fear of him, as he let you alone, unless you became an obstacle for him, or his secretive allies, superiors and collaborators, rumored to be even sinister Illuminati and defence industry companies, including that reputated Wu Corporation, the main defence supplier of the Czech Military, who built even a nuclear weapon for the Czech state, located at a secret SPECOPS military base near Teplice, and they were allegedly developing even a TDE, Time Displacement Equipment, with immense potential consequences for the mankind.
After a half of an hour, the man moved to a lonely drinker, sitting in the corner, who ordered another espresso without words. Both men hardly greeted each other, as it was obivous, that they know each other for very long time.
“What is new with you, Goran?” the businessman started a conversation.
“Nothing big, man, just struggling to survive, you know, how hard are these times,” Goran replied with a sigh, but both men knew, that this is just a part of the game: never to seem too successful, rich or satisfied, as all rats around would come to get their share, and the police dogs would start sniffing, to find your dirty laundry, dirty business deals, which allowed you to get rich too quickly.
“Then maybe, you would be interested in a small job, no? Money could get useful, it’s time to pay the rent, isn’t it?” the visitor watched Goran, speaking still softly.
“That would be very kind, Milo! You know, that I can’t get a decent job, it’s an economic crisis out there again, that bankers robbed us all again, but still, my hungry kids need to eat, and my wife would like to buy some decent diamond jewellry from that famous Emirati brand, Amwaj! My hands are dexterous, I can do just anything, like plumbing, woodcuting, cleaning, painting, maybe even basic car repairs,” Goran named all his skills, but both men knew, that he is yet more capable of “alternative” jobs: particularly high-profile car thefts, using state-of-the-art electronic equipment, which can’t be bought in a common shop.
“Then listen well, you schmuck,” Milo put away his beer, and looked directly into Goran’s attentive eyes of a canny thief. “I have a very important client, who needs a very special service. There could be a good chance and money for you, so I spent a word for you.”
“Milo, my great friend! How kind of you, that you remembered an old good brother!” Goran almost embraced his companion, he was a cordial Southern nature.
“I said, a very special service, you fool! It means, that it’s too soon to thank me. Stakes will be high there, but the reward will be royal,” Milo pushed another man away.
“How much?” Goran asked silently.
“Up to twelve cakes, second grade quality,” Milo explained in the covert language of criminals. It meant, that the proposed crime could earn up to twelve years of imprisonment in so called second degree, or restricted prison, where more serious offenders were incarcerated.
It seemed unwise to share so dangerous detail with a potential criminal collaborator, but Milo knew, that he is well covered, he is only a mediator. If Goran will accept the job, all responsibility – and consequences – will be up to him, and he will be forbidden to mark the person who ordered the job, as this was the basic rule of Southern mafia: to remain silent, never to cooperate with the authorities, under all circumstances.
And it was more than just following the criminal codex and decorum: if you broke the rule, and started talking to the lurking police, or sniffing tabloid media, then a hit (=assassination) could be ordered on you, with tempting financial reward for your head… literally, because police informers and snitches are hated everywhere.
Moreover, this would be just a testimony against another testimony, and Milo could always say, that he was drunk and playing a big mafioso falsely, if there would be some surveillance in the bar, or some curious ears. The man knew his job well, and this was the reason, why he survived so long in such dangerous environment, where a human life had very relative value.
“So, this has to be something more serious, than usual,” Goran drank his coffee slowly, enjoying the taste, as he knew, that it’s critical to live in the present moment, you never know, how long the happy times will last. “And how much is the pay?”
“Ten thousand Euros. It should take some six hours of work, and it will be necessary to stop a designated vehicle in the beginning,” Milo indicated openly.
“You mean, that I will do more than just a car job, this time?” Goran was surprised.
“Exactly, friend! There will be a whole team, whereas your task will be to stop a car, and then to provide supervision, so everything will go smoothly, and there will be no ‘wet work’, attracting too much interest,” Milo indicated, that the crime has to be soft, without any excessive violence or possible murder victims.
“You mean, that the person in the car will be somehow… involved,” Goran was thinking, but he seemed a little bit distracted. “That’s why you told me about that twelve cakes, a more serious rate than usual? Honestly, I really don’t like it, man… as I told you, I have a family, and I refuse to do such delicate work with people I don’t know. Sorry, friend, not this time, although that ten thousand would be good to buy a coffee. Anyway, if you think that I could be able to do it all myself, I am still your man,” Goran offered another approach to the plan.
“I guarantee for the rest of people, believe me. One person is not enough, there has to be some… performance, let’s say. That other three fools are the actors, but I need somebody trustworthy to watch over them, so this all won’t get out of control,” Milo explained.
“Milo, my man, I would make just anything for you, or your valuable client, but what you described, it really smells not only with a serious jail time, but also with some very bad accident, which could happen. You remember that nasty case, twelve years ago? They promised to keep the person without harm, just to collect money, and in the end, someone lost the nerve, and you know, how it all ended… really badly, and there is one more cross in the nearby graveyard now…
Or that kidnapping in Nice, in sunny France, they promised to Jan Motovsky, a wealthy Czech businessman, that nothing will happen to him, that he will return to his beloved wife Katerina Motovska soon and safely, but in the end, he never returned home, and the bitch is now spending his money for her big political career, she even wants to become the next Minister of Defence, or what. And evil tongues are claiming, that it was her, who ordered the hit, or she executed some secret black magic ritual on him, as she is a reputated witch…
I do cars, man, that’s my job, you know that – but what you suggest, it’s nothing for me. For a risky enterprise like this, miserable ten kilos of fruit are too small payment!”
So it was all about money, and Goran negotiated.
“How much, you lousy fool?” Milo pretended to be surprised. But such development was no surprise, burden or problem for him, he will simply summarize the overall costs for the client, plus, he will yet inflate it. In the end, his commission will be large and unharmed… like always, when he did special jobs for this very special client, who had its own executive assets, completely suitable for such delicate tasks, but they wanted to keep their hands clean, remaining in safe distance from the following mess and state investigation, so they liked to hire others, for such dirty work.
“Fifteen kilos of apples, that’s my word, friend! The payment has to balance the high risk,” Goran said decisively. “Your client has to understand, that to do a top-tier job like this, you have to pay your man well, or there will be failure and mess! He can hire a small crook, to save money, but cheap people like this are unreliable, they always run to the police, or they take money and disappear into some Caribbean paradise. You know the tricky details of this business!”
Milo couldn’t resist to smile. “My client knows very well, what he wants, you fool, and what has to be done to succeed.”
Goran was attentive suddenly. “You mean…?”
“Don’t ask, man! For your own welfare, and safety of your family! Let’s say, this entity is very highly positioned, and it’s nobody to play with, or even to fuck with. Whoever would fail or cross the line, he or she can count with painful consequences.”
“Fine, tell me the details, so we can move on.”
“Let’s say, there is a highly positioned entity, connected to the defence industry or even to the state defence, who knows, and it would be very beneficial for her, if something like terrorist attack would happen. You heard of the Islamic State, that nasty and dangerous, ruthless terrorists?
If this feared Islamic State would commit a big shocking crime here, and the target would be a VIP, there could be much publicity and commotion, desirable for this entity, for her special interests, and demand for her defence products, from small arms to armored vehicles, like Pandur II PSY or SURIKATA. We are talking about tens of millions of Euros here: upgrading firepower of Czech Army, further militarization of the Czech Police, changing of regular into policemen SWAT units…
So the entity decided to orchestrate something like this, of course, using a front, a black flag operation, that will point at the terrorists beneficially, so the entity will receive more defence contracts, something like that. Just business, only using some advanced means, including advanced Public Relations. I don’t know more, and I don’t want to know.”
“What the hell did you just say?” Goran was totally shocked. “You want me to be involved into terrorism??? Are you completely nuts, man? Do you know, what you are fucking talking about? Do you know, how deeply would such damned event be investigated? I could book a prison cell directly, and my family would have to flee to Africa!” he stood up, and waved at the waitress decisively, that he wants to pay the bill.
“Just listen, you fool!” Milo resisted to his initial rejection. “This is just a fake show, a performance, as I told you! No one gets really hurt! It’s for the media, and for the political scene, to shake things a little bit! A big game, indeed, but someone has to be a foot soldier here.
They assured me, that the persons involved will be perfectly covered, as it’s definitely not in the higher interest, if real participants would be caught, so there could be some undesirable connections revealed. No! Everything will be blamed on terrorists, but they will disappear back to Syria, Iraq? Afghanistan or where, like ghosts, and only cold trails will remain after them, you understand, dumb crackhead? The culprits can’t be ever caught, it’s not desirable! So they simply won’t exist!”
“And how can I prevent a very likely option, that some treacherous fool from higher places won’t mark me as a terrorist later, as the operational conditions could change any time? You know, where I am coming from, Bosnia, full of that Wahhabis, Salafis, like those CCM radicals from Teplice! They could make a nice terrorist tale from me! A refugee, who escaped a bloody civil war, later a criminal and a terrorist! That would completely destroy my life, and my family, whole community of our people here, you can imagine that!
Man, hundred thousand Euros would be too little reward for a fateful job like this! This will be a very nasty work, and I will keep kilometers from it, for my safety, and hope for the future of my family!” Goran seemed very pessimistic about theoretical loyalty from the higher places.
“You won’t be so far away, friend… do you understand, that there is some higher interest inside this affair? They REALLY want it to happen, they are ruthless, they have money, it’s too much in stake, so they gave me a free hand, and they won’t hesitate to push people against the wall. You resist, you deny, you say ‘no’, like a coward? Then, they will have another conversation with you, not so pleasant, not so relaxed, and somewhere else, or your beloved wife will have an accident, to remind you, what mistake you just did. Can’t you understand? We are just pawns here, and there is too much pressure! Wake up, man!” Milo expressed the ruthless truth.
“You fool, inside what you got me into?” Goran couldn’t believe this filthy treason between old friends. “I worked for you well always, you could trust me… and this trouble is what I get, as a compensation, a reward???”
“Just wait with such quick, rushed judgements! Stakes are high here indeed, but rewards too, as I told you! And they can take care of their servants and puppets, you can imagine! Just play the game properly, and you will be rewarded! You could get a better life, you could do something good for your family… just think about it!” Milo tried to appeal at Goran’s greed.
But Goran was really leaving. “There is a nice proverb, which my granpa, peace be upon him, taught me: ‘Don’t step on ice with lords, as a peasant will always break his leg instead of them!’ I would be a complete fool to participate in this big dangerous game, as you call it!
Do you think, that I am such an idiot? This is the biggest, deepest trap I have ever seen! I could lose absolutely everything, not only my freedom!”
“Just think it through, Goran! There is still a week of time. Fifteen thousand, in sweet cash, in that nice colorful papers, fitting your empty hungry wallet just perfectly, man! And you can go buy a small flat for your daughter, or a holiday cabin! Or a brand new car, to feel like a lord, after all that lousy jobs for a few coins! And imagine, to be inside a big thing, that will shake the whole country… to be somebody important, once in your life!”
“You should change your job, brother, you would make a good salesman,” Goran said instead of goodbye with angry face.
Milo showed no emotion, he only took his mobile phone, and he started dialing a number, drinking beer and talking with someone distant for several minutes, speaking in short sentences, mostly “yes” or “no”.
Then, he left too, but the night was still ruling the city, covering all its sins…
At least temporarily.
It was almost dawn, but night still ruled the country, full of deep forests and meadows, without disturbing city lights. A cute squirrel woke up early, to get some deserved breakfast, and she roamed her ground territory, searching for fallen nuts and radicles.
The land was so peaceful, and the animal worked quickly, observing her vicinity carefully, always prepared to search for a quick refuge high in the trees. But there was no threat around, so she enjoyed the morning, and become a little bit careless.
When she reached the tree line, she stepped on something, and the ground moved under her tiny legs, so the squirrel escaped rapidly, and she was gone in the moment.
It was two men, concealed with dark and camouflaged blankets, enhanced with special aluminium foil, to protect the users against thermal detection, as they were watching the open land under them, where a small, almost romantic village, could be seen.
One of men had binoculars in his hand, and he observed the vicinity. The second man interrupted the silence.
“Nothing, just a squirrel,” he interjected. “The target building is the last on the left side. Its garden has direct access to the wood. The fence is common type. Motion sensors are not present in the grass. Security cameras are marked on the plan of the building. They will be disabled.”
Another man put the binoculars down for a moment. “And the extraction point?” he asked with experience.
“Approximately one click from here, a deserted forest road. A vehicle will be waiting there. Also, a support team will be placed at our current position, to supervise the vicinity, to watch the overall movement in the village during the operation, and to intervene, if necessary, so they will be quipped with assault weaponry, naturally of Russian untraceable origin, including a high-caliber sniper rifle, for covering possible antimaterial needs,” the colleague explained with detachment, that even a lightly armored vehicle can be eliminated with this devastating weapon, not speaking about devastating wounds, caused by such powerful long-range weapon, like reputated M82 “Syrian Shark”, if feared High Explosive bullets are used.
The man with binoculars had another look, this time rather from simple curiosity. The house he was looking at, it was more than impressive. A large and modern villa, built according to the latest construction trends for VIPs, it used rather glass and wood instead of obsolete and cold bricks, with large terrace on the first floor. The perfectly maintained garden offered Japanese decorations, small trees and even an artificial lake for decorative purposes and maintaining ZEN balance: the swimming pool was hidden inside the building, so the VIP owner could bave complete privacy and safety, when bathing.
The house and the garden were decently illuminated, to repulse any interest from potential sniffing thieves, although both observing men knew, that the object is now empty, its owner came here only ocassionally.
“Such a beautiful building,” other man sighed, still watching the proud structure with binoculars. “I wouldn’t earn money for something glamorous like this in my life.”
“At least you can watch fulfilled dreams of others,” the second man replied indifferently. “I am reminding you: this operation has the top priority. There is no place for emotions or hesitation. There will be no fuck-ups allowed, no mistakes forgiven, no excuses accepted. Use of extreme force against all potential pests is fully authorized in advance, and we will make no difference between outside threats and inside threats. Remember that, man!”
“I just need to adjust to the new priorities, commander. Something like this… well, it’s something new in my line of work,” the subordinate said without any attempt to hide the irony.
The horizon was slowly filled with beautiful orange color. Morning was approaching, and soon, the men will have to leave, not to be seen from an incidental witness… except squirrels and other forest animals, who will remain silent about anything, what happened here.
“We are soldiers,” the commander replied coldly, watching the approaching dawn. “We do, what we are told! And you know, that this is the matter of higher interests, but also our matter. The military needs the money and support, we all need the bright future. This is the only possible way how to achieve it, regardless how nasty or foul: you can think of something better, I am sure, but the blessed heads on the top already made the decision. They promised to avoid violence, if possible: but even a ten casualties, ten lost lives, collateral damage, as we call it to please George Orwell, would still be a small price for what we will achieve here.”
“You know, commander… when I was in Afghanistan, I saw all kinds of horrible shit,” the other man reminded his past place of service deployment. “Once, we got into ambush of insurgents, when checking some small village for guerilla activity, and one of our men was hit into leg. We were pinned down by machine gun fire, and when I was lying there, behind cover of some ancient stone wall, which stood there maybe for hundreds of years, I was thinking suddenly: What the hell I am doing here? And why I wonder, that those people are shooting at us, if we invaded their land, we breached their sovereignty? And why we invaded this land, using very cheap and questionable pretext, because someone in America marked this poor mountain country as supporter of 9/11 attacks, or what…
Several minutes later, there was an order to exfil from the vill immediately, to break contact with the enemy, to retreat into safe distance, as an U.S. air strike was called… no, it was not just several bombs, they leveled the whole village to the ground, using cluster bombs and napalm… believe me, CNN viewers wouldn’t like to see the horror pictures, which I saw, listening to screaming of Afghani civilians, women and children, burned alive in their houses…
Only one local survived, and imagine, the Czech state gave him asylum, maybe to relieve the conscience, and the officer, who called for the devastating and excessive airstrike, was prosecuted, accused of causing the death of 126 Afghani civilians, as such thing couldn’t just disappear under the table, but he received only a light sentence, and he found a warm place in the private defence sector later, as ‘The Czech state always takes care of its heroes’, as the current defence minister Martin Stropnicky said.
I mean, I thought that nothing can surprise me anymore. But this… this is worse than battlefield. It’s a madness, I am telling you! I will obey all orders, you have my promise, but you should know my private opinion: do you realize, that we will support our enemy? We will give them a gift from taxpayer’s hard earned money, we will misuse our skills and resources, to build their fame and power! This is the kind of warfare I am not used to!”
“Just relax, you will return there soon, where you belong, to a place you love, to a place you will possibly die one day,” the commander started to be hostile, he hated this kind of soldier’s talk, questioning the decisions of the higher command. Normally, he would send a man who talks this way to a military court, but he knew, that his subordinate is the man, who can be trusted, who doesn’t yield when things get hot.
“Measures like this are used in all wars, so wake up, man! We, the Special Forces, we exist for a reason, for committing shit like this. You remember our motto, ‘Creating Good by Committing Bad’? But in the end, there will be a big victory,” he added with persuasion and checked his wrist watch. They will leave in five minutes. Their mission was complete, now they had all the information they needed.
“And you believe that?” the soldier doubted. “You know as me, that this war will never end, as nobody wants that. There is thousands of participants in this shit, including governments and weapon manufacturers, and they all have their special interests, like us. Everybody needs this war to continue, to make profits, to grow, to achieve bold plans and conspiracies, while all the blame will be redirected to the invisible, even non-existing terrorists, who were most likely created, or at least supported, by the alleged free, democratic world, to have a suitable cat’s pawn!
Will my children see the end of this endless war, or their children? We stopped counting the dead and injured so long time ago, they disappeared from the news, replaced by poor refugees, who need protection and help, instead of our young families, and elders.
But is it right? We fight terrorism for the media, but doing shit like this, we are cultivating our enemy! We almost becoming them, maybe yet worse, than them, as we are lying to people, who trust us! From one side, we are bombing the terrorists, sending drones and cruise missiles against them mercilessly, and from the other side, we send them weapons and we pamper, protect and support them!
Some voices even say, that this particular terrorist enemy was created by our allies – and how couldn’t I believe it, seeing and even participating directly in a shit like this?
I remember, when there was peace, and do you? Or was your memory erased? Does it all last for too long already, that we forgot, how is the peace?”
Both men exchanged a look into their eyes, hardly seeing each other in the dark.
“Let me tell you, what I do remember,” the commander replied surprisingly calmly. “I remember, when I was nobody, I had no job, no future, no opportunities, nothing, I was watching houses like this with anger and covert desire, to be somebody, to belong somewhere, to be a man who decides matters, who is not only dragged by circumstances and his own past failures, doubts and hesitation in life, who works in a miserable job like some pawn, a zero, who can’t get even a decent mistress to sleep with! Because the fucking female bitches can feel weakness from you, effectively losing interest for a loser.
When this war started, I got everything I wanted, what I needed, like if Christmas would come, fulfilling all your dreams and wishes! And in that moment, I started being selfish, selfish like all that people down there. Behind every window, there is a selfish man or woman, counting their assets and dreaming their desires. I am not worse than them, I don’t take anything from them. I just need to take what should be mine, to receive my part of the cake, to deserve it all, to win my life!
The truth is, that unlike them, I could die easily, in combat, everything could end in a moment, you just blink and it’s all over, a shrapnel flies so fast, a rocket, a bomb, an artillery shell, a mortar shell, a tank shell, a bullet… a female medic will try to rescue me yet, an angel, who came too late, giving up her effort soon, and there will be nothing remaining of me, I will be buried as an anonymous soldier without big famous state funeral and honorable volley of fire. But I am not just a wraith, I am a human like them, I want the same from life, to use it, to find happiness and satisfaction!
I joined the military, they gave me what I wanted, and now, I play for the team. If the team goes up, I go up as well, and vice versa. We are connected, like a mother with a child, so I will do absolutely everything necessary to achieve this goal, man, including cutting your throat with this sharp combat knife on my belt, if I will feel, that you are becoming a weak link!
Although I appreciate that you are open and honest, we soldiers are not allowed thinking and doubting, just obeying the orders, regardless how strange they sound. Is it explanatory enough, or do you want to continue this fruitful discussion?
But let me tell you just one thing. Personally, I agree with this operation! I even admire the people who invented it. It’s just perfect, and I am proud to participate in it, so proud! One day, when I will check my uniform, the row of my medals on my chest, that small metal piece with a ribbon, earned for this operation, will be the one I will appreciate the most, until the end of my life. And I will allow no one, including you, to set it all back!
Two years ago, they called me to the SFC, and they told me: ‘Vladimir, we are promoting you to a captain, and you will help us to win the other war, which needs to be fought in the civilian environment. You will become a soldier with two faces: one in the battledresss, like before, when you fought in Iraq, and the other in a business suit, conquering the corporate world. And we have a mission for you’… fuck, this was the best day of my life, a turning point indeed! Since that day, I became somebody, and I touched the stars. I don’t want more… just to keep going, to use all my skills, because only then, I can be a man I always wanted to be!
I don’t count victims or losses anymore, I don’t care about them, that’s true! That is the mindset of civilian fools, anyway! Now I really understand, what it means to be a soldier, and this is my destiny! Don’t stand in my way, brother, or I will fucking waste you without mercy!”
“OK, I am your man, commander,” another man promised. “I just wonder: they want to send a civilian with us. Is it safe? What if he will talk?”
“After the operation, this asset won’t be needed anymore, and his services are to be terminated with extreme prejudice, still inside the object,” the commander explained ruthlessly. “I was informed, that this planned casualty will become a part of the upcoming media tale, or what, an evidence, pointing at Bosnian Wahhabi extremists. I want you to handle this small task personally. Is it OK with you?”
“You can count on me, commander,” the soldier replied decisively, replaying all the moments, when he thrusted his combat knife into human tissue: into lower back, where vulnerable kidneys are exposed, just like they taught him at secret SPECOPS military base near city of Teplice.
“One last thing,” the commander remembered, when they were standing up, packing their gear, covering their tracks, so no one will recognize, that the wood had night visitors, excluding that curious squirrel, who won’t talk: if she could, then she would be a pest of highest Czech national security interests, and the soldiers would take care of her appropriately.
“I am reminding you: since the beginning of the operation, until safe exfiltration, all team members are playing their roles without any exemption. Whoever will fail his or her role, he or she is to be considered as a traitor, and marked for later disposal without mercy. Any failure won’t be tolerated, this is what the command said explicitly. Remember that, man! Before you will fuck up and lose your life!”
In a minute, the awakening wood was completely deserted again, and the squirrel returned to her morning routine, watching the village with her sharp eyes, like if she would like to mimic the men.
But down there, everybody was still sleeping, not knowing what kind of drama is awaiting this once peaceful village.
Special Unit C1O2: PSYOPS
Classified – matter of special importance!
Do not copy
Operation HARBINGER (SOP-102): overview and procedures
Mission: After successful execution of Operation HARD PROOF, a series of suitable news articles has to be published in precisely prepared time intervals, according to the basic Media Information Plan (MIP, see attachments), to direct the attention of the media and public the desirable way, to build a news tale appropriately, so the psychological effect of the operation will be maximized in all possible directions, on both strategic and tactical level.
Note: in a case of operation’s failure or a security breach (compromising of involved assets), Media Plan is still in effect, using alternative “V2” version.
Updating: the aforementioned series will be updated according to the operational situation and development of the affair, under supervision of the Unit and higher places of the chain of command, under following conditions, valid without any exemptions: 1) all updates to publish have to be expressively approved by the Unit’s commander, 2) contrasigned by a designated person from higher places, 3) analysis of the impact and substantiation has to be provided in advance, 4) Asset A17 will approve the final text or scenario.
Note: In a case that additional goals of the media plan will be ordered, as a request of the command or an operational necessity, the Unit will process all suggestions, requests and updates 24/7, with full authorization to alter, hold or deny these updates.
Control measures: in a case of a security breach, caused by alien media entities or any third party, endangering the operation or participating assets and thus national security, all possible control measures are authorized to be used, in order to control the information flow, including extreme means (physical elimination of critical enemy figures).
All incidental threats are to be classified into four levels: 1) low, contained with means of cyber warfare and USP-PSYOPS, 2) medium, contained with direct social intervention, with optional using of black financial funds 3) high, contained with offensive assistance of a Rapid Intervention Team, with Rules of Engagement (RoE) updated 4) extremely high, contained with all previously mentioned measures, plus declaring ‘Level 2 of imminent terrorist danger’ statewide and shutting down the public Internet network, until the situation is resolved.
Note: before deploying the extreme control measures (ECM) on external human threats, special consent has to be obtained from higher places. Internal human threats are to be exterminated with extreme prejudice immediately, at commander’s discretion, without unnecessary delay.
Overview of Media Information Plan: the basic media strategy is executed on strategic level (emphasizing the threat of the Islamic State, presenting it as a clear and present danger for citizens, able to be contained only by rising the defence budgets and public support of the military spending, offering a solution of the problem) and tactical level (side tales of involved persons, indicating their interests and past sins, gossip, witnesses, rumors, “washing the dirty laundry”)
Note: Not the Military, but the “concerned citizens”, including key social figures, will call for larger military spending and launching new defense projects, including obtaining nuclear weaponry for the Czech Army.
Proposed titles (strategic): “Citizens call for strenghtening the Military”, “The end of public tolerance of terrorism”, “People are signing a petition for expanding the defence budget”, “Czech government considers new Minister of Defence”
Proposed titles (tactical): “VIPs are scared. It could be you tomorrow”, “She was so good person”, “It’s all fault of her unfaithful husband, a friend says”
“I would like to fall in love again,” was the first thought of Monika Maresova, when she woke up around ten o’clock in the morning, and still lying in her king size bed, she allowed herself a small contemplation, a dream about “him”, how she meets him, he will be tall and he will look into her eyes so deeply and so seriously, and she will be lost in love again, she will feel something deep and bright again…
Her love life was quite miserable lately, and she was so bitter already, that she stopped to cover it in front of her friends, and the media. Although she knew, that negative people are not too favored in the society, she simply couldn’t help herself… she felt like cursed.
After the divorce with her husband, Leos Mares, a reputated presenter and socialite, who built his media picture and social brand carefully, using both connections in the media, bribery and flattery effectively, she met only more than questionable men, who could feel the scent of her money, who wanted to be served like some masters, to take from her what she had, like some pitiful kings.
To her most unpleasant surprise, even men could feel her weakness and bitterness, and everybody felt like a king suddenly, all those losers, feeling predestined to conquer her, to own her like their toy, and to perceive her treasures as their own.
Oh, weakness never pays off, yesterday, today and tomorrow, and no technological toys and miracles will change that!
So through time, Monica rather abolished all attempts to get a new love, and she put an armor of irony and disdain around her, to be partially protected. But she still had to make money, and it meant to be a part of VIP social life of the country’s capital, Prague, to be seen, to force the journalists to write about her, otherwise you are dead, you don’t exist in showbusiness, if there are no articles about you.
Fortunately, she was able to keep her business connections. Maybe some women admired her stance, that she is willing to admit, that even a successful, still young and beatiful woman can have love troubles, remaining single for extended periods of time.
So, today, she will visit a business partner of her, an owner of a fashion boutique with rising reputation, to receive a new fashion collection, to wear it publicly, to make a social advertisement for it, plus, she will get the desirable media attention – a mission of the owner herself, who wanted and needed to get her dresses to the stage lights, and for this purpose, you need a good friend, who will wear it socially, in front of photographers at various VIP parties of Prague, the center of all action. Then, the circle is enclosed the desirable way, and you both can continue on your way to stardom, conducting mutually advantageous business.
Monica drove her luxurious white Range Rover through the streets of Prague, thinking, that she will meet “him” soon, and he will be somebody! Not another loser, or even a questionable criminal, like lately! He will change her life for better, and she will be a star again, as only as a pair you can create a really successful media career, standing up for each other, supporting each other, and of course, loving each other…
Monica was free, single, although her divorce was not completely smooth, but her exhusband explained to her honestly, that it’s not in their mutual interest to do it silently, there had to be a proper show, you could get many social and media points, and divorces of VIPs were really favored by the readers of tabloid and gossip magazines… they wanted it, and they got it. Monica was suddenly not sure, whether the divorce as the whole was not an artificial matter for the media, created by her too ambitious ex-husband.. she couldn’t remember some real crash between them, split or disharmony… the media world was sick sometimes.
And that Pavel Novotny, the CEO and Chief Reporter of “Heavy Slander” tabloid magazine, he was the worst of them! A ruthless animal indeed, even hungry stripped tigers in the ZOO could envy him! Monica would bet, that it could be all his work, he was a mastermind, standing behind many affairs, supporting Jewish community, his people, but also Muslims, even Illuminati and various corporate conspirators: anybody, who could be useful, and who could pay well.
If he wanted a good media affair, he had no problem to create it himself, playing with human lives and fates like pawns… and Monica was a part of this sick world, so she had to accept, that rules of this game are different, than in life. It was not “only” about love, there was more interests, and not only yours, or your partner’s… and the hungry readers of the tabloid media were always waiting for some juicy news, so they had to receive it, to satisfy their sick needs, to read about disasters and tragedies of others!
Speaking about Novotny… she heard some nasty talk about him lately. There was a rumor, a very strange rumor, that Novotny himself has very strange masters, that he is a pawn as well, a part of a big game, reaching the highest state levels.
The evil tongues were saying, that Navratil is on the payroll of a classified paramilitary unit, operating in civilian environment, to achíeve certain special tasks in the matters of state defence, using media, VIPs and celebrities as their pawns, collaborators and puppets, creating, supporting or destroying them, as they liked and needed, being generously backed with black financial funds of unknown origin, possibly Chinese, established as an inconspicuous business company, a classic type of front organization, covering real masters.
But other people doubted this theory, expressing their clear opinion, that Novotny made up this tale, to get a virtual protection, as many unsatisfied and angry people, which he damaged in “Heavy Slander” somehow, including highly positioned VIPs with influence, were promising him a ruthless revenge almost daily.
However, now, no one tried to hit him anymore, his factual social power was enlarged… there could be something true on that rumors, and you never know.
In the end, it worked… Novotny knew his special job, indeed…
Two weeks earlier, when it was almost the opening time of Suzanne Hasselblattova’s boutique “Woman’s Destiny” at famous Parizska Street in Prague, full of highly reputated fashion brands including Dior, Louis Vuitton, Hermés, Prada and many others, Joseph Svejk was sitting in a nearby café, meeting with his former superior, First Lieutenant Lukes.
A grandson of famous soldier Svejk, he had a military career written in his cradle, but he resisted it many years, until his late 30’s, when the existential necessity and an offer you can’t refuse sent him into a world, where he never wanted to go… but you can’t escape your destiny. And he shined there, indeed! Even the Parliamentary defence commission suggested to deprive the Czech citizenship from the poor man and heavy drinker, rumored to be completely dumb, when he presented just decent strenuousness, as is expected from a proper and devoted servant of the state!
After one year of service in a classified paramilitary unit, Special Unit C102: PSYOPS, he was released back into the world, to execute certain special tasks in the fashion industry, working on his own, but still keeping the connection.
“Svejk, something big will happen soon,” the First Lieutenant told him with very serious face, when they ordered a generous breakfast in this beautiful small café, located just a few blocks from reputated Parizska street, the best address of the city.
“I am so proud, that the idea we created together, is still alive and prosperous, Herr Oberlieutenant,” Svejk said with admiration, when he remembered the old good times, and as a proper military servant, he poured coffee into cups.
In that past time, it seemed thousand of years ago, the high command gave them some money, some very general idea about “executing special military tasks in the civilian environment”, and they gave their hands away from them, not to become dirty. But with some miracle, they succeeded in the end, although many deeds they made were more than questionable, and later, Svejk fell into disfavor of military officers, as his reputation of a drunk, lousy fool, who has always “very original ideas”, was not something to connect with the Military, which needs to keep strict decency.
So they released him, to keep the desirable distance, but the cooperation was still going on: he was now well placed in the Czech fashion industry, promoted to a manager of the Suzanne’s boutique, as the woman wanted to concentrate more on her family, when her 18 years old daugher Anne became pregnant unexpectedly.
And you can bet, that some very powerful entity helped Svejk in this surprising career growth, including heavy media support from critical “Heavy Slander” tabloid magazine, writing a series of a very favorable articles about latest Suzanne’s “Cleopatra Collection”, originating from Egypt. The following public and financial success was immense, and Svejk collected the points, as the boutique was close to bankruptcy, before he, and his clandestine “friends”, stepped in.
“You see, Svejk, times have changed. Two years before, it was different than today. The world is running forward, and operational conditions are changing. Yes, we made it, as you said, but you know, that we were and we are just pawns. We never owned this project, and today, they decided to execute an operation which is more than controversial, using us.
Our Unit will have only a support role in this, allegedly, but let me tell you honestly, that I had to start drinking myself recently. I always had some military honor… but now, they will push us to go much farther than ever before,” the officer said, thinking about ordering a vodka, although it was just nine o’clock in the morning.
“I always told you, Herr Oberlieutenant, that you are not made for this kind of dirty work,” Svejk commented with sadness. “You know, that I always tried to help you, so you could see the whole picture, to leave that narrow ‘black-white’ look at the world. But we all knew, that the command needs you there, so a basic balance will be mantained, because with people like me or our dear colleague Denise, peace be upon her, splinters would fly, and in the end, we all are happy and you suffer. Sorry, Herr Commandant, that you have to go through this… but you are still a soldier, you obey orders, you do everything necessary to accomplish them.
Or not? Do you want to resign, because you can’t take all this shit anymore? I know that you won’t dodge, we chose this way and we should go all the way to the end, where the highest military decorations are waiting, and I will surpass my famous Grandpa eventually!” Svejk said pompously, and started eating a croissant, like nothing would be happening.
“Svejk, you fool… you don’t know what you are talking about… this time,” the officer sighed. “You don’t know what is happening, what is being prepared! The medals we will get for this shit will be filthy, I could clean my uniform thousand times, but still, buckling a medal for this on my chest, I would feel dirty, ever!”
“I think I heard talk like this already, two years ago, Herr Offizier,” Svejk remembered. “But you made it in the end, and what happened? Everybody was satisfied, many people went up, their dreams were fulfilled, no one got hurt. So what’s the problem this time? What’s the difference? The shit is still the same, here in the civilian world, or at the battlefield somewhere in Iraq or Afghanistan. Just stop thinking too much, commander! Do what you have to do, and let God to judge you later! Just don’t forget to collect the deserved medals!”
“I know I should, but this time… listen, Svejk, I asked the command to devote you into this matter a little, so you will help me to carry the burden. Do you agree? I told them, that I can’t do it alone, that I need your counselling, that you have that distinctive ‘special skills’, which got you this far.
Of course they disagreed at first, replying that you can’t be trusted, you drunk fool, but in the end, I persuaded them, that your advices can be valuable, and you will keep all secrets. So remember, shit is hitting the fan like never before, but as I know you, you will be happy, and smiling as an asshole…”
“Then tell me at once, Herr Oberlieutenant, because this will be something very interesting, I am sure!” Svejk stood up and ordered two big glasses of rum, “for good digesting, and maintaining optimal blood pressure”.
When the officer ended his explanation, Svejk seemed more than pleased. “This is something, Herr Commandant! I need another rum… and then I will be going, I have much work to do! That Latin proverb says: ‘Hora Ruit’, the hour is running, and you never know, which hour on the clock will be the last!”
When Monica reached her destination at Parizska street, Svejk was awaiting her already, staying in front of the boutique in his badly cut suit, like in the old times, when he was only a common doorman here, the lowest part of food chain, but look, how far he made it now!
“Madam Monica, it’s a great pleasure to have you here again!” he greeted the woman, who approached him with a professional smile. “Please, let’s go inside, madame Suzanne is awaiting you already,” he opened the door of the shop with complaisance.
Monica entered the boutique, feeling like a queen. She was not a miserable average VIP customer here, she was one of their elite media faces: they supplied her with their luxury collections, and then it was up to her, to promote it in the media, of course inconspicuously, but women readers were inspired, and they knew where to go, to get the latest fashion trends, to feel like somebody, like Monica…
They shook hands with Suzanne, smiling at each other, both knowing, how greatly can they help each other in business. “Monica, you will really like this,” Suzanne introduced the new collection with passion.
“It comes from Saudi Arabia, it’s called ‘The Superior Woman’. It’s the utmost luxury and style, strictly limited availability, and we are the only place, where you can get this, in the whole Europe! No, I am not exaggerating: it’s a breakthrough in fashion, this connection between us and Middle East! We are surpassing Milan today, and you will be the carrier of our message!” Suzanne touched the soft material of a dress with passion.
“Just have a look, feel it,” Suzanne challenged the other woman to touch it. “This is it! Just try it, you will fall in love instantly!”
But Monica seemed distracted. “Sorry, Suzanne… but what is this? It’s an ‘abaya’, no? And this is a hijab? This is an Islamic fashion, and I am not a Muslim, you know that! Do you expect me to wear this, to convert to Islam, or what?
What do you and your wealthy wahhabist friends from Saudi Arabia think? That I will become an advertisement for female Islam? Here, in Central Europe, an island of atheism? People would despise me, they would spit at me on the streets!”
“Before you will make some quick and rash judgements, just think, Monica,” Svejk entered the excited conversation boldly. “Islam is slowly ruling these lands, and you have the unique opportunity to ride on the band wagon early. You can become an example of a woman who thinks in advance, who accepts, how the world changes today, without judging and complaining, like some grandma, who simply uses the opportunities, who is clever, open, accepting, not closed, ignorant and dumb, like that losers out there, who had so many dreams, but look at them now!
They would tell you thousand of reasons and excuses, why they failed, blaming the whole world, but not themselves… but who would be interested, to listen to those losers? What interesting can they give you, except a warning example, who not to be, which mindset will lead you astray?
Wouldn’t your female admirers like this alternative, modern, fresh, effective approach of a modern woman? Just imagine the perfect articles in NUSHI fashion magazine, belonging to this corporation, about you, a shining example for any modern woman! And imagine, how much would all that rich sheikhs at the Persian Gulf love you and respect you! Your name will get there, because this company has wide ties to Middle East and China, you know that! And everywhere, together with the merchandise, also you will be promoted!
Imagine that large billboards in Shanghai, or in Dubai, anywhere… with your big portrait, some nice inspiring quote, ultimate female energy will simply shine from you… fuck, what more could you ask, to reach success?
They are searching for media face of their newest PHE-XX parfum, you heard about that, I am the most certain, their key business project, in the value of billions of USD. It’s the whole revolutionary product line, it uses artificially created female pheromones, changing the female world, and your personal options, once and forever, allowing you women to literally conquer the world, and men of your dreams.
Can you imagine, how much money, power and publicity is played here? A single dose costs 444.000 USD, but it’s more than just a fragrance… they will change the whole you, using The Device on you, not speaking about that advanced health procedures, making you young maybe forever, because this is luxury fashion industry indeed, where all the dreams can be really fulfilled, for the top 10.000 people of the whole world!
And you can be the media face of this ultimate project! They need only one single woman, who will become their ambassador. It can be you!
You could get a very good and rich husband, like Marketa Korinkova, our elite fashion model, you could leave this place, where nothing too good seems to expect you… just imagine all that endless deserts, unlimited oil money, skycrapers and lights of Dubai… and you won’t be just a poor tourist there, you will be somebody! The future of the world is shaped there, and you can be a part of it!”
Monica listened to him with shock, like if she would come to a lair of a sect, or a New Age cult. She wanted to run away instantly, she looked at the door nervously. Will they stop her, or what? It’s a nightmare, this day! What happened to those people? Aren’t they mindwashed, or what?
“You know the rules of the game,” Svejk continued calmly. “Times are changing. What was good and beneficial yesterday, is less than enough today. You are a clever woman, so just analyze it. You don’t have to convert to Islam, you will just indicate to the people, that they should leave their pointless fear and open their perception to alternative, foreign, but good and sexy influences. Everybody can decide then, but we are still talking about fashion in the first place!
You can imagine, that Saudi Arabia has interests here, indeed. And they will reward anybody generously, who is willing to help them in their effort, to create friendship between Europe and Middle East.
We offer you a very unique contract here, believe me: you will get a good money, and you can say, it was just a job, an advertisement campaign for the Middle East. Yes, there will be some articles here, naturally, but people will clearly see that you don’t promote Islam in these lands, on the contrary, you are still one of them infidels, but successful, that even that rich sheikhs desire for you, they want you! You will be a winner at the end!”
This suggestion calmed Monica a little. Yes, she could see it, how much publicity will she get, plus some small controversy, but you need it to build a strong personal brand anyway, to start the avalanche of gossip, so the whole country will speak about your name, your life…
“We always had a good business relationship, I always respected you, you know that,” Monica said to Suzanne with dignity. “So I will stay and listen. Tell me more about this contract!”
When Monica divorced with her husband, there was a question of splitting the property. She expected him to fight ruthlessly for the money, but he was quite generous, leaving her a luxurious flat close to the city center, plus access to a large house in a village close to Prague, which he got for an indefinite rent in a contract for a big construction developer, when he was a media face of this company.
Between woods, meadows and small peaks, there was a special housing project built ten years ago. They simply added a quarter of luxury, full of modern villas, to a small village, called Vonoklasy, near famous Karlstejn castle, southwest of Prague.
It was like another world here. In the night, it was so peaceful and calm, no city lights disturbed the black sky, full of stars. Only VIPs lived here, but Monica never quite liked the place.
The reason was the driveway to the village, narrow and steep, above a sharp descent down on the left side, hidden in a dark wood. It was not a problem for her car, to climb there, but Monica was simply afraid, that the engine could fail, or if she would have to bypass another vehicle when going down, some small driving mistake could happen, and then, she could be in a big trouble, even falling down… during the winter, it was out of question for her, to visit the house, she wouldn’t try her chances on an icy steep road, but even during summer, she never liked this road, although she could meet cute squirrels there, running in front of her car, amusing her.
But it was the part of the original contract, to pretend that they still live here, so she and her husband still had to visit there occasionally, so media articles like “He was seen with a mistress in Vonoklasy!” could be generated, for supporting the developer, and his business interests further. When they divorced, the show still had to continue, so they made an agreement, who and when will visit, changing “shifts” on weekends.
Monica wasn’t pleased to leave her spacious apartment in the city center, where she could feel well and safe, but business is business, so she came here, usually with her lovers, sometimes with female friends, who would provide her a company, sharing some gossip with her, so she could be well informed about latest events and opportunities in the VIP community.
Before going there, “to the hills” as she called it, usually on Friday, she visited a VIP party in the city, so she could enjoy the company of many fine people, before going into that isolated land, where only one small forest road was leading to. Some people liked the privacy and calmness there, but she was used to the city rush too much, and relaxation like this was not according to her imagination. She liked the sea, the sun… but here, it was like a deserted place for stressed managers, her VIP neighbours she met only occasionally, as they were on business travels abroad often.
For today, Monica arranged a dinner with her old lover, a highly positioned business consultant from the financial industry, but to her unpleasant surprise, he had an important phone call just before midnight, and he was informed, that he has to leave early in the morning, an unplanned business trip to Los Angeles, so he had to head home, to pack his stuff, to have some sleep… with his legitimate wife.
“Sorry my dear, I will make it up to you,” he promised her, when kissing her for farewell, but Monica was disappointed and angry. It was not the first time when he disrupted or even cancelled their date! What is he thinking, that she is come poor miserable village girl, waiting for a favor from him? That he is the only man here, in this big city, with endless chances?
So she rode “to the hills” alone, as it was too late to get another company, and to be honest, she was a little bit tired, it was a long day. It started in the morning, when she got the most unexpected business proposal in her life, but now, she was rather pleased, unlike in the morning, when she was scared…
There could be an opportunity indeed… and a new life for her!
It was after midnight, and the forest was deserted again. Only a few vehicles came here this late, so the road, leading through the wood to Vonoklasy, could be crossed by various small animal inhabitants of the forest safely.
A squirrel was just roaming the asphalt, as it was very easy to find some fallen nuts here, even after dark. Her ears were sensitive, able to recognize all sounds around, whether they meant a danger: the forest always warned her in advance.
The animal noticed something, so she stepped on her tiny back limbs, rising up, to see around better. Somebody was there! Wasn’t it a human talk nearby? Away, quickly!
“Victor two, this is Juliett. Radio check, over.”
“Juliett, this is Victor two. Roger, out.”
Then, there was silence around again, so the squirrel returned to the road to check it out. She saw a very nice nut, lying on the asphalt, and she wanted to retrieve it.
A car engine could be heard in the distance.
“Victor two, this is Juliett. Tango passed position alpha. Identity is confirmed. You have the green light, I repeat, green light. Commence the operation. Activate the technical countermeasures, over.”
“Juliett, this is Victor Two. Roger, wilco. Out.”
A hand pushed the button on a device, jamming all mobile phone communication in the vicinity. The team was ready: the show could begin, and the squirrel will watch from a tree nearby. There is always a witness.
Monica was driving calmly, listening to a good ambient music from her superior “Bose” car audio. The wood around was dark, even black, only the xenon headlights changed night into the white day, so she felt quite secure, and she let the powerful engine of her Range Rover to climb the road up, rather not looking left, where a very sharp descent was.
Monica noticed, that some pedestrian is on the right side of the road. Strange! It seemed as a woman. What was she doing here? Maybe she came here with the last train, which stopped down the road, in the town of Cernosice. But then, you had several kilometers of walking up the hill, so the people of Vonoklasy usually took a cab, or used friend’s help. Walking through the dark wood was only for the bravest, not to mention, how far it was to get home…
Monica knew, that she can’t stop the vehicle, that offering the woman a lift could be unsafe. Sorry, girl, she thought, when she steered the driving wheel left, to make an evasive maneuver.
The girl seemed drunk, Monica noticed her irregular walk, when she approached her closer. She only hoped, that they won’t find the girl the other day dead, because she fell down into the valley, or somebody murdered her, using the perfect cover of the night. But still, Monica couldn’t offer any assistance: and everybody of us creates his or her own destiny.
When the Range Rover was passing the woman, she suddenly stepped left, losing the balance, falling down, on the road.
Monica removed her right foot from the gas pedal instinctively, but something inside her alerted her. It could be a trap! But can she run over a human, just because her bad feelings?
She checked, whether the door locks are secured, and she slowly stopped the vehicle, hoping, that the woman will stand up again, allowing Monica to continue. The road was too narrow to pass around the body now.
When the woman stood up, she started talking, but Monica couldn’t understand her. But she had a feeling, that she knows the woman, she has seen her somewhere! Her face is pretty, she was tall… definitely a fashion model!
And this distraction was enough for three masked shades in black, to approach the vehicle from three sides.
Monica noticed a shadow, moving in the rear mirror. Damned! She stepped on the gas quickly, not hesitating to ram the bitch, to escape the trap! Fucking thieves!
But nothing happened! The car not only stood still, even all warning lights on the dashboard glared suddenly, before the engine was turned off, and the interior of the vehicle was became strangely silent.
That criminals had to use some equipment to disable the car, Monica thought, so it had no sense to push the emergency button on the dashboard, connecting automatically with the police dispatch, reporting the GPS position of the car. So, she reached for her purse on the passenger’s seat, to dial the police with her cell phone.
But the display showed no signal. So they maybe used even some GSM jammer… this is a high profile heist, not a coincidence, not some amateurs!
They were around her, a whole group, and she couldn’t do anything. She heard someone, playing with the door lock. This is it… she is fucked, and she can’t do anything! She felt pity, that she haven’t obtained a pistol or something for defense… but if they were armed as well, these criminals, who have nothing to lose, it would only result in a bloodshed, and she would lose anyway…
But she was not allowed to relax, to think what to do. One of the masked shades showed her a small gas canister, spilling a liquid on the hood of the car, and lighted up a lighter. She has to get out of the vehicle, otherwise that mad people will burn her alive, or what…
When the door opened, they grabbed her, a plastic tape squeezed her wrists. No, this must be a dream, she was not willing to believe it…
“Listen, Monica,” a decisive male voice could be heard in the silence. “We can do it a good way, or a bad way. What do you choose?”
“Uh… a good one,” Monica was glad that they are at least reasonable, looking at his eyes she could barely see. How do they know her name, anyway? It’s not a coincidence? Were they waiting… for her?
“OK, but if you will lie to me, I will fucking waste you right here, I will cut your throat and I will throw your lifeless body down, into the valley, you understand? How do you disable the security system of the house?” he asked with urgency.
So they want more, then the car, or her wallet, or her body. “Just with opening the gate, and the garage, using the remote control… in my handbag. If you want money, I have a thousand dollars in my purse…”
Without reply, they took her, and put her into the trunk. The criminals took the seats, whereas the other woman sat behind the wheel, while Monica was still thinking, where she saw her, and the engine was started again.
The vehicle was moving forward, like if nothing happened, only a small squirrel, high in the safe trees, couldn’t understand the event well…
Three hours later, the camera started rolling. The scene: a big black flag of the Islamic State on the wall of Monica’s villa, with masked men around, armed with AK-74s, and Monica between them, dressed in that infamous orange overall, kneeling, with a handgun pointed at her head.
“We are the Islamic State,” a male voice announced with emphasis, decisiveness, and pride. “We came to liberate Europe, and to liberate all of you, you pork poisoned faithless filthy dogs, as our dear friend Monica, maybe you know her, she is a celebrity! She would like to make a public confession, so we visited her at her luxurious home in Vonoklasy, close to Prague, to listen to her sins and repentance. But she was showed the right path of truth… and tommorow, we will visit you! Remember, no walls or boundaries can hold us back! You can’t hide, you can’t run from our righteous anger, crusader infidels!”
The camera shifted focus at Monica. “I lived an empty life of mindless consumerism, as many of you, I also supported the corrupted government silently, in killing innocent civilians in Iraq, Libya and Syria, in countless war crimes of filthy NATO,” she started with her eyes down in shyness and embarassment. “And today, I am righfully punished. I ask for mercy!” tears bursted from her eyes.
“This is just a beginning,” the male voice warned. “We are here, we are a nightmare in your dreams, infidels! You will suffer, you will pay in full for killing our brothers and sisters! We won’t stop, until the black flag will wave over Rome, and all capitals of Europe. On behalf of all oppressed, our righteous fight will be won soon!”
Another show, much larger, started in the morning.
The first media entity to have the breaking news about Islamic State’s alleged ambush at Vonoklasy was naturally “Heavy Slander” tabloid magazine, which published the first article at seven in the morning, just at the time when people were preparing to leave to work and schools, reading the first batch of news of the day, while their minds were still fresh and accessible to new information. Needless to say, that everything went exactly according “Media Information Plan”, prepared by Special Unit C102: PSYOPS.
After several factual basic texts, where all available information about the night and the published video was summarized, what happened, to whom, where, when, the main article followed.
The title could be hardly more expressive: “Our freedom and peace ended at Vonklasy village today”, and the CEO, Pavel Novotny, wrote even a proclamation to the readers, very emotional, to support the impact of the news with creativity.
“We thought that all the mess we were reading about in the foreign news, about endless war and terrorism, is far away from us, and we are safe. We thought that we are safe from all changes and shocks of the present Europe, as the refugees don’t want to stay here, in Czech Republic. We thought, that we will just watch the show conveniently, with a beer in our hands, and we will evade all threats, hidden and satisfied.
But the terrorists came into our lands, and it can’t be revoked. The terrible day we woke up into just now, it can’t be taken back. The terrorists took away our freedom, and you all know what we have to do: to say clearly, that terrorism won’t be tolerated, that there can be no more victims as Monica. She was stripped of her dignity, but the attack against her was attack against all of us, our freedom. As the terrorists say in the video: ‘It could be you tomorrow’, and we know well, that they like to target VIPs. Will you sleep calmly this night?
People are rallying in the streets right at this moment, calling for swift and ruthless response by our security forces, which are in full readiness, and heavily armed strike teams are gathered, commandos in balaclavas are flooding all the streets. And the massive search operation for culprits of this horrible news already started, but the blame falls on us all. Why?
Face the truth, people: we didn’t support our Intelligence services, Military or the Police enough! We ignored, we slept, we turned our heads away. And look where it got us!
This day is the beginning of our big change, if we want to keep our way of life, our freedom and values, our human rights. We fought for the rights of others; now it’s time to fight for our own rights, on our domestic soil!
This is our land, I want to remind you, and the terrorists, and we will never surrender! We will revenge what you did this night, you cruel animals! You won’t sleep calmly as well, because our reputated female Special Forces assassin, Marketa Vselichova, will hunt you down in Syria!
Anyway, we all have to prevent anything similar to happen.
So, I am asking our Militarized Police forces publicly: what do you need to prevent events like this in the future? I am asking the same question our domestic Counterintelligence services, and our Army, and Military Counterintelligence: what do you need to protect us better? What remedies is necessary to do? And why did you fail today?
You see, Monica is my good friend, I know her long time, so I can’t resist to take all this emotionally. I am sorry for losing my journalistic objectivity this time. I know that she is so good person, so good friend – and this had to happen to her?
Why the best people always have to suffer? What did she ever do to anybody? Whom did she hurt? She is just a woman, who wanted to be happy, as everybody of us, but now, they humiliated her, threatened her, and she didn’t deserve it. Why didn’t you choose me, you foul rats? Why didn’t you choose somebody, who can fight back?
They chose a weak woman, who couldn’t defend! Are the culprits even people, or animals? They must be punished, and they must be eradicated, together with their sick Islamic State, its ideology of madness and violence!
I still can’t believe, that it all happened! They ambushed this innocent woman, she was not a politician, she was not a scientist, she was not a military officer… how could she be an enemy? She was just a Czech citizen, and instead of her, they could choose you, anyone of us. How does it feel? Will you sleep calmly today?
I am saying: do something this time! Write to your Parliament deputy, write to the government! Call for action, call for change! I don’t want to write an article like this again, never!
Although our magazine had the information first, I am really not proud about this fact. This is a moment when to be a journalist means so much pain, when I remember Monica’s face, her smile… and now, what had happen to her?
We know, that she is safe, alive, debriefed by police right now. But who will she be, when she will return?
They converted her to Islam in front of our eyes. Can she still be trusted? Is she still one of us, or an enemy, who mindwashed her, and sent her back, as a trojan horse? Like in that infamous case of Antonie Chrastecka, and Hana Humpalova, liberated, or rather bought back for 6 million USD, from Pakistan?
In certain sense, they murdered one of us. She won’t be the same, ever! This is the worst day of my life, I am telling you! This news hit me into the heart, and what I feel now, is just sadness, and anger. For me, all changed, and for all of us. For our country, this is much worse than 9/11. One victim is like hitting the whole nation.”
And this was just a beginning of an avalanche.