eNovel New Fiction - "Dominion of the Dead: A Survivor's Account" -New Chapter 4 (8.11.11)
CHAPTER IV: THE MADNESS
“Madness is rare in individuals, but in groups, parties, nations and ages is it the rule” – Friedrick Nietzsche
Flashback – August 5, 2011 – Tangi Valley, Afghanistan
“We must strike against the infidels as they continue to decimate our numbers!” stated the haggard looking Al Qaeda fighter. “Patience Walid,” stated Saif al-Din al-Ansari al Adel. “The great infidel will soon — with help from Allah — see their happiness turn into sorrow, and their blood will be mixed with their tears. We will fulfill the oath of Sheikh Osama, may Allah have mercy on him: America and those who live in America will never enjoy security until our people in Palestine enjoy it.”
As the sounds of artillery came closer to their hidden cave headquarters, Saif Saif al-Din al-Ansari al-Adel, Al-Qaida’s No. 3, its military commander and chief military strategist, (whom succeeded Mohamed Atef, who was killed in November 2001 and Khalid Sheik Mohamed, who was captured in March 2003) looked on as A-10’s strafed the valley and dropped laser guided munitions and watched as several Blackhawk helicopters started to unload special operations forces.
al-Adel was patient and unafraid. He has served previously as al-Qaida’s security chief. As early as 1987, he wanted to hijack a commercial aircraft and fly it into the Egyptian Parliament. An unconventional thinker, he once wrote an analysis for an al-Qaida website advising Iraqis on how to fight the U.S.
Al Adel had millions of dollars and euros at his disposal and even with the specter of death looming over him, Al Qaida’s plans were already underway. The great infidel would suffer he mused…thanks to a nuclear briefcase bomb smuggled from the old Soviet Union that was recently purchased through the black market. It would be airborne detonated over the central United States. If that was not enough, Al Qaida in partnership with Iranian deep black operatives had bribed a disgruntled civilian Pentagon IT employee. A hidden file was discovered (and soon to be exploited) for the timetable for delivery of biological weapons on its way to deep storage at USAMRID. Al Adel was confident that, no matter the outcome of the current conflict and his impending death, the struggle against the great Satan would continue.
Flash-forward - The Present
Date: DECEMBER 21, 2012
Time: 1:35 AM (I THINK)
The clash of steel against steel was unnerving in its accuracy and beautiful in its simplicity. Aran’s Parang machete was against my Bolo machete. Two equally matched weapons and men with super-honed and unusually fast reflexes were in a fight to the death. Time stood still like a scene from two ancient gladiators in combat to the death in an arena…the smell of perspiration and the sounds of guttural noises were present as each man tried to press his advantage.
(Sparks flying from my Bolo hitting his Parang)
In the deep recesses of my mind’s eye, I recalled something that the famed two-handed swordsman, Miyamoto Mushashi, once said…”Two swords are better than one.” As Aran swung his Parang in an arc toward me, I parried with the Bolo in my right hand. I could see in slow motion as the sparks flew in the air as my steel met his steel. I saw or better yet…intuited…the small weakness in his swing. As the arc of his swing completed, my left hand carrying the Fairbain-Sykes dagger found his weak spot.
THUD AND SLAP
My dagger punched through his right ribcage twice and my hand twisted on the last stab expanding the wound entry.
Any normal man would have fallen back clutching his mortal wound and bleeding out but not Aran. Whatever must have affected me and enhanced my senses and healing abilities also affected him and only enraged him.
I underestimated his abilities….as I pulled back I felt a sharp pain on my left deltoid as his Parang grazed my upper arm in a return parry. As I backed away, I could see the blood streaming…it was a deep wound…almost to the bone.
Aran’s face was pale and a rictus of rage and pain. My wound was beginning to affect me but not as much as Aran’s wound affected.
We met again in one final assault. Live or die…one of us was not going to leave this restaurant alive.
I heard the scream of his sister Mali and the cries from the GeekSquad couple as our machetes met one last time.
My swing was a millisecond faster than Aran’s and that was all I needed. My bolo’s tip cut across his throat as it nearly beheaded him.
GURGLE AND MOANS OF A DEAD MAN
It was quiet except for my labored breathing. The only other sound that could be heard was of a heavy dead weight falling to the ground as Aran’s lifeless body crumpled and his blood spread out on the tile of the restaurant floor.
Mali screamed when she she her brother fall. She didn’t hesitate. She ran out the back of the restaurant and we knew we would never see her again.
The GeekSquad couple rushed to me as I slowly collapsed on the ground. One of them (I don’t remember which) tied a tourniquet over my deltoid. I was losing blood. I remember the quiet and the sounds of worry each made but I was already closing my eyes and feeling the relief of unconsciousness.
CHAPTER V: THE WAY HOME (To be Continued)