Prologue Two

PROLOGUE PART TWO:

 

Grand Central Station, New York City: 7:15am- Rush Hour.  Monday, December 20th 1984

 

 

Basel Ghaalib stood before the large ornate doors of Grand Central station with mixed emotions of awe and disgust.  “Infidels!” he cursed to himself as he pushed the heavy door open.  Just a few days hours ago he received his instructions and then boarded a plane for New York City.

It was a high honor he had been bestowed with and by all that is holy; he would be soon be greeted in Heaven by Allah and graced with an abundant afterlife.

” Excuse me sir…” the dark skinned, well-dressed man sheepishly asked the policeman standing at the entrance to grand central station.

 “Could you tell me what time it is please?” he continued in a harsh accent.

“Uh, yeah sure” the young policeman’s thick Brooklyn accent was almost lost in the din of the biggest city in the worlds’ rush hour madness.  “It’s uh, 7:16” he finished abruptly and shifted his attention to some commotion at a nearby café, where a group of commuters were screaming and shoving.  He left the young foreigner standing amidst the packed main lobby of Grand Central Station.

Over five million New Yorkers travel through this highly visited transportation center and a fitting choice for one of the several points of attack that will be taking place within the next thirty minutes.

    The young visitor gripped his leather hard-shell case tightly in his hands and makes his way to the nearby newsstand.  He grabs the morning edition of the New York Times and heads to the young and very beautiful cashier just waiting on a well dressed man in a dark gray business suit with balding grayish hair.

     “What the hell is taking you so damn long kid?” the bifocaled lawyer asks demandingly of the overworked cashier.

     “Um, uh I am sorry sir, ah,” she stammers in response.

     “I don’t need your apology, I just need my damn coffee!” he harshly states, cutting her off.

     She finishes pouring his coffee, steam rolling heavy off the top; handing it to him she then rings up his order.  Sweat covering her shaking fingers.

     “That will be $9.68 sir” the busty blonde cashier kindly states to the bifocaled man, trying to hide her fear.

     “What?  That can’t be right!” he barks.

     “Um, sir, you ordered the lar...” her words cut off by her customer’s disgust filled retort.

“Ah, never f*****g mind!”  He belts at the cashier, grabs his coffee, Danish and newspaper and backs up, angrily staring at the almost crying cashier.

Still swearing, the aging attorney stepped backwards and clumsily trips into Basel, who was patiently waiting his turn in line, spilling his hot mocha coca latte all over the young Middle Easterner.  Hot steaming coffee splashes all down the front of Basel’s brown suit and burns his skin.  Defensively, Basel buts himself between himself and the falling gruff man.

“Whoa.oh, s**t!’ sputters the man falling to one knee.  The cashier seeing this grabs some paper towels and comes rushing around the counter.

“Oh my goodness!” she squeals!  And runs to the coffee covers patron.

“Are you ok?” she inquires with concern.

“I, um, I am fine” Basel confirms and takes the towels from her and before he can catch himself, he Flashes her smile for her kindness.

 

Basel takes the towel and wipes what he can from his suit jacket.  “Thank you” he tells the cashier trying not to look her in the eye.

“No problem at all”.  Are you okay?” she continued?

“Yes I am fine” he assures looking about to see if the incident drew any attention from the policeman he met moments ago.

No, he is gone.  Allah be praised!  He thought to himself and sighed a relieving breath and looked back and smiled at the lovely young cashier standing before him.

“You should watch what you are doing when you are in America pal!” the man stated threateningly to Basel as he brushes past, knocking into his shoulder as he passes.  Leaving the now empty coffee cup and drenched, steaming newspaper on the smooth granite floor.

Basel’s eyes followed the arrogant man until he disappears in the mass of people all trying to make their way to work.  This encounter was an affirmation as to why the west and the rest of the world needed to pay for all their evils and the Sanctity Virus would be the first of many steps in the cleansing of the world.  Riding the planet of the infidels is the utmost calling in pleasing Allah.  And today he would be very pleased.  Now, locking eyes with the kind and beautiful blonde woman he offered her his hand.  Looking at him with a puzzled look, she smiles at the very handsome young man and accepts it.

“Thank you for your kindness for a stranger in your county”.  He says with a mix of sincerity and an all-knowing tone.  Little did she know, this would be the last time she would ever see anyone smile?

Basel’s hand let’s looks from her grip and immediately she feels her hand grow warm, then cold.  Sharp pin pricks of pain, now shoot all through her hand, up her arm and into her chest.  She collapses to the ground.  Body paralyzed.  All that functioned was her eye and her brain.

She watched as that once handsome foreigner walks a way from her and joins the throng of people caught in the madness of rush hour.  She sees him look back, this time the smile is replaced with a grin, a grin of accomplishment.  He then disappeared into the crowd.  She notices, as she lies there, unable to move, that he had forgotten his briefcase.  She looks closer at the black bag and realizes that there is a small purplish vapor coming from it.  The vapor spreads into a wider swath and mingles into the crowd.  No one seems to notice caught up in the rat race.  The attractive paralyzed cashier tries to scream, tries to warn the people.  But her voice is also paralyzed.  Much like the rest of the world soon would be.

 

 

10:00am- Monday, December 20th 1984 Lusatia, Germany. A Mountain Compound on the banks of the Spree River.

 

 

     “At last, our plans have come to fruition!” Gustav spoke proudly staring at the multitude of television screens that filled the eastern wall of the Command Center.

On all of the screens, chaos reigned. Mass hysteria filled the black and white monitors while television network news anchors try to make sense of the attacks that have rendered the world into the depths of madness within an hour’s time.

     “Senseless terrorist attacks on American soil have taken many lives. We have no confirmed numbers yet but the Center For Disease Control (CDC) has rough estimates in the hundreds of thousands with fear of reaching into the millions.” A once pretty middle-aged female news anchor spoke with a matter-of-factness tone. Unsuccessful in the effort to hide her horror.

     On another screen a gray bearded man looking disheveled anchorman clears his throat and adjusts his glasses as he is handed a sheet of paper from off screen.

 

” From New York City to Chicago, to Los Angeles to Houston and Miami, all major cities have reported outbreaks of some unknown disease that have the scientists on their heels.” The anchor concluded with a shudder in his normally monotone voice.

     Studying each screen intently relishing in all he observed, Gustav could do nothing but smile. His eyes wide in sensual satisfaction.

     “Those fanatical primitives actually were successful in their plan!” He whispered in gleeful disbelief.

The black robed viewer’s eyes flit all over the command center view screens greedily taking in all he had dreamt of.

     “They are fools however, they think that they were cleansing the world of the “infidels” and bringing about the end to their jihad,” he mumbled, staring, engrossed,

“Little did they know their own people were not going to be safe. For they too will die and then rise again to serve a greater master than their pathetic Allah. His hypnotic voice trailed off and was lost amongst the cacophony of news anchors all singing the same harmony of the end of the world.

“You have done well my child!” came a dark and low growling voice from over Gustav’s shoulder. The voice continues: “In time the world will be ours and the reign of God and his sheep will be over and darkness shall rule the land.” The voice continued in triumph.

 

Gustav spun on his heel, startled and without looking up, prostrated himself upon the floor in genuflection.

“Yes Master, I am so pleased to have served you.” Gustav spoke softly but confidence.

“Rise Child, and witness the new master of this realm! The deep growl ordered. The sound of leathery wings echoing off the command center’s cement walls.

     Rising to his feet, “my Lord, the terrorist entitled “Sanctity Virus” will spread exponentially and one by one cities will fall and the dead will rise. Your followers will rise and reclaim what is rightfully yours!”

 

We have been victorious!” He adds, grinning from ear to ear and raising his head to great his master’s gaze for the first time.

     Gustav’s face turned pale and his eyes grew wide as he looked upon the visage of his demonic master. Knowing full well soon he would receive the gift he had been promised.

    

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Janelle Walden]

i did see a few typos as well as another tense change from past to present part way thru, but that's all easily fixed...on to the story: it definitely is seeming to be quite an interesting twist on the idea of a terrorist take-over of the world, & one that is a hell of a lot more interesting than just your usual virus kills everyone scenario, or bombs goin off, planes crashin into stuff etc, so i am curious to see where this story may lead :)