Read Europa Conspiracy (Babylon Rising 3) Online
Authors: Tim F. LaHaye
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Modern fiction
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This sort of visceral anti-Americanism is affecting many countries around the world. The Jews in general are identified with America, and many people also have a prejudicial dislike for Jews as a race."
"That's a good way to put it, Michael. An ancient Arab proverb says, 'My enemy's enemy is my friend.' I know that many Arab countries make friends with anyone who is against the United States or Israel. We are not only being condemned for our policies but for who we are as people."
"I don't have any easy answers for a very complex problem, Levi. I'm just glad we're friends. All I do know for sure is that this has been a problem in the past and it seems to be on the rise today. Dr. Lehman's discovery of oil only adds to the mix."
Talon looked into the rearview mirror of the Land Rover as he drove through the narrow streets. He watched with anticipation.
Come on. Come on. I know you're there.
Then he saw the front end of the old green van as it rounded the corner behind him.
You're keeping a good distance ... but you need to learn to be more subtle. They just don't make spies like they used to.
He smiled to himself and continued until he reached the outskirts of Et Taiyiba. He drove along a deserted street of what looked to be abandoned buildings. He then pulled up in front of an old two-story warehouse with a storefront. On either side of the weather-beaten double doors were large display windows containing a few decaying mannequins.
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Four Arabs stood outside of the double doors, deep in conversation and gesturing widely.
They stopped talking and straightened when Talon pulled up and got out of the Land Rover. His very presence seemed to command attention. They acknowledged him with slight nods, no smiles or handshakes. Obviously they were all frightened of him.
One of the Arabs climbed into the Land Rover and parked it around the corner, then returned to the group.
Murphy laughed as Abrams's cell phone began to play the theme from the movie
Exodus.
Abrams spoke quickly into the phone. "Set lookouts on all of the entrances and exits. We'll be there shortly.
"That was Uri," he told Murphy. "He's followed the man with the mustache to an old warehouse section of Et Taiyiba. There he met four. Arabs, and they went into a storefront building. Isaac, Judah, and Gabrielle are with Uri. I think this could be our final showdown with Talon and his crew. I can't wait to put him behind bars! I've never seen anyone who loves to kill as much as he does."
Soon Abrams and Murphy pulled up behind a green van. They got out of their old pickup and entered the back of the van. Abrams introduced Murphy to Uri, then asked, "Has anyone come out since you called?"
"No. The building has a set of double front doors, a side door, and a back door. Isaac, Judah, and Gabrielle are watching them. No one has left."
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"Do you have an extra gun?"
"Of course. What kind would you like?"
"Give one of the automatics to Dr. Murphy.
We
all need to be armed."
They approached the storefront carefully and glanced in. Some natural light from the street penetrated the building. They could see no movement or lights inside.
"They must be in the back," Abrams said. "Uri, radio Isaac, Judah, and Gabrielle and tell them to remain in position unless called for backup. Tell them to stay put even if they hear shots.
We
don't want anyone to escape. Especially the man with the mustache. He's very cunning, so be alert."
Abrams tried the front door; it was locked. Uri handed Abrams a set of lock picks, and in moments the door was unlocked.
"Pretty cool," Murphy exclaimed.
"Tricks of the trade," Abrams said modestly.
Stepping inside, they paused and listened. They could hear no sounds. With guns drawn, they headed toward a door behind an old dusty counter. They opened it carefully. When no shots greeted them, they stepped cautiously into the warehouse. Rows of shelving filled with cardboard boxes lined the room. Wooden crates were stacked in the aisles. A window in the back let in some light.
Abrams whispered, "Michael, you go down the right aisle. Uri, you go down the left. I'll take the center. Be careful and stay alert. Remember that they could be hiding behind the crates. No talking."
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Murphy had moved forward about thirty feet when he heard a slight sound coming from behind a crate up ahead. He approached carefully and quietly. Was his archenemy, Talon, behind the crate, or one of the other terrorists? He had to be ready!
He had just started around the edge of the crate when there was a yowl and a cat ran across his feet. Murphy was so startled, he almost pulled the trigger.
Well, that's one more reason to hate cats. You either love them or hate them
...
there's no neutral ground.
Anyone in the building would have heard the cat's yowl.
Just then there was the sound of a shot. It ricocheted off a steel shelving support near Uri's head. Instantly he dropped to the floor and fired toward the sound. Then he rolled behind a nearby crate.
Abrams and Murphy were fired on at almost the same time. They too dropped and rolled toward protection. Soon shots were zigzagging through the warehouse. Murphy lifted his hand over the crate he was hiding behind and fired toward the unknown shooter. There was silence. Each group was listening for sounds from their adversaries.
"Well, Dr. Murphy we meet again."
A chill went down Murphy's back when he heard Talon's voice.
"I'm going to try to make it our last meeting," Murphy replied firmly
"It probably will be yours, Dr. Murphy. You haven't been very adept at protecting yourself or your women. Especially your wife, Laura," Talon said with a sneer.
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Murphy could feel his anger rising... along with his desire for revenge.
Careful, Murphy. He's trying to get you upset so you will become careless. Don't fall for it.
Abrams was trying to position himself to see where Talon's voice was coming from when another shot was fired. Then there was another silence.
Uri began to make his way over toward Abrams in the center aisle. Murphy held his position.
Isaac, Judah, and Gabnelle heard the gunshots. Their first desire was to come to the aid of the men inside, but, as ordered, they held their positions and watched the doors.
Isaac barely saw the flash of light. Something streaked by and shattered the left window next to the double doors. At almost the same instant an explosion inside the storefront shattered the other three windows and blew out the double doors. A fire was beginning to rage inside.
It must have been an RPG!
Isaac grabbed for his radio. "Isaac to Judah and Gabrielle... I think they just fired a rocket-propelled grenade into the storefront. Hold your positions; you've got your orders. No one is to escape."
Isaac picked up his rifle and emerged from a second, gray, van that was parked across the street from the warehouse. He looked through the high-powered scope in the direction from which the RPG came. He was searching the windows of an adjacent building for the shooter.
He saw some slight movement in a building on a
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diagonal from the storefront. As he began to focus, he heard tires squealing and looked toward the sound.
The Land Rover, with Talon driving, was turning the corner of the warehouse and was heading in Isaac's direction. He glanced up at the window once more. He could see a man rising and aiming a second RPG. Isaac lifted his rifle to his shoulder, took aim, and fired. His shot was a split second too late. The man at the window had already fired the RPG.
The Arab seemed to leap backward as the bullet entered his chest in an instant kill.
The second RPG went in through the blown-out front doors, bounced slightly on the floor, and penetrated the door behind the counter before it went off in the warehouse. A flash could be seen inside. Flames were beginning to engulf the entire structure.
Isaac was turning back toward the Land Rover. Talon squeezed the trigger of his handheld machine gun as he and the four terrorists passed.
Isaac felt a bullet tear through the meaty portion of his left thigh about four inches below his groin. He immediately went down from the force, his rifle flying from his hands. He instinctively reached for his shoulder holster, pulled out his Glock, and began to fire.
"Isaac... Isaac. Come in. What is happening?"
Judah and Gabrielle ran toward the front of the building. They had just reached Isaac when the first blast went off. The concussion knocked them down.
The old warehouse was beginning to collapse. Then suddenly four more blasts were triggered simultaneously.
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For a second the building seemed to hang in space, then it collapsed. Smoke and dust filled the air.
Judah and Gabrielle knew that nothing could be done for anyone inside the building. They turned their attention back to Isaac. Judah applied pressure on the wound to stop the flow of blood while Gabrielle called for help.
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SIXTY-FIVE
"SENOR BARTHOLOMEW, I must commend you on your wonderful sense of timing. You couldn't have planned our meeting for any better date. It looks like we will end just in time for the Grand Prix. You do know it is the last true street-circuit Formula I World Championship. I'm looking forward to attending. Thank you for your selection," Mendez said with a smile.
"Yes, I agree with SeƱor Mendez," Viorica Enesco put it. "A marvelous choice. The yachts in the harbor are magnificent, and they are only matched by the fantastic weather. I love to come to Monaco at this time of year. It is one of the most exciting cities in the world, and the cuisine is spectacular."
The Seven had gathered together in a villa on the cliffs overlooking the French Mediterranean. All seated on a picturesque veranda surrounded by lush vegetation and a spectacular view of the ocean, they were sipping wine and reviewing their plan.
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General Li was the first to speak. "It is unfortunate that we were foiled in our plan to destroy the George Washington Bridge. That Dr. Michael Murphy and his friend Levi Abrams have become thorns in our flesh."
"That is true, General Li," Sir William Merton agreed. "They did stop the attack, but remember, they did not stop the ensuing panic and terror. It was enough of a threat to make the members of the United Nations vote to move out of the United States to Babylon. The details may have been clouded, but the end result was the same. And that is cause for a toast."
Everyone touched their wineglasses together.
"I agree," General Li said, with a slight smile. "I am just disappointed that there was not more damage. Destruction of the bridge would have cost the arrogant Americans much in the way of dollars and would have shaken their pride at being able to stop terrorist attacks in their own country."
"But we have more attacks planned," Ganesh Shesha told the general. "You may get your wish sooner than you think."
Jakoba Werner smiled as she freed her blond hair from a bun. Her chubby cheeks were red. "I think we all can be happy," she exclaimed. "Soon the new United Nations building will be erected in Babylon. The Arabs are thrilled at the thought of hosting the UN. And by funding the construction through the European Union, as we have planned, the Arab countries will be obligated to Europe. The European Union will be seen as the 'good guys.' Our representatives are already negotiating with Saudi Arabia, Iran, and Iraq for reduced oil prices because
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of our support. It will help to strengthen the euro and devaluate the U.S. dollar even more. We have even convinced the Arabs to raise oil prices to the United States. This will force them to drill in Alaska, which will infuriate the environmentalists. Everything is falling into place."
"I agree with Jakoba," John Bartholomew stated. "We've even been able to corrupt some UN members. It's wonderful to see how money can buy almost anything. We helped them to secretly open Swiss bank accounts. Little do they know that we can siphon funds out of those accounts! The money comes from us to them, then we take it back from them. Isn't the world of banking wonderful? They're simple pawns on our chessboard."
"By the way, I know that you've been working on it... have you been able to figure out a way to siphon money from numbered accounts left by the Nazis in World War II?" Sir William asked.
Bartholomew smiled. "Of course--not only their accounts, but many more. We have ways to persuade the bank officials to work with us. All we have to do is show them pictures of their families and ask if they would like to keep them alive. It seems to have a wonderful way of convincing people to cooperate. We should be happy with how fast we've grown in power. Soon we'll be in control of everything that is happening in the world."
Everyone clapped.
Viorica Enesco was rubbing her finger around the top of her wineglass and staring at the ocean.
"What are you thinking about, Viorica?" Bartholomew asked.
"I was thinking about Talon. He seems to have