HOLY TERROR

(BOOK FOUR)

Spring was slow coming to this part of northern Pakistan, and the cold March winds coming down off the mountains still stung with the biting cold of winter, and were bitter and harsh to anyone unprepared for the vagaries of weather in this part of the world.

       The two Mossad agents struggled head-on onto the wind, wrapped up in their thick sheepskins, their eyes stung as they trudged wearily onwards. The village could be seen in the distance, and a young boy tended a herd of goats in one of the nearby fields, but he paid the men little heed. A village like many others in this region, but one in which they finally hoped to find their prey. If it had a name, it wasn’t on any map they knew of, situated on the northern bank of the Indus River valley. To the south, the peaks of Nanga Parbat could be seen, still covered in snow. It was a bleak and inhospitable place.

       Mullah Ali Bin Wazir was one of the last surviving Taliban who had sought sanctuary in northern Pakistan, where many of the people openly supported his former regime, still declaring their allegiance for Bin Laden. This was a volatile part of the world, as Bin Laden’s followers frequently crossed into Kashmir, engaging Indian forces and generally fomenting unrest in a region inhabited by two religions, where both nuclear powers claimed sovereignty. It was now a very dangerous part of the world.

       Bin Wazir had fled here from Afghanistan, seeking to consolidate a new power-base, whilst avoiding the long arms of the American President in his self-declared ‘War on Terror’. Like most Americans he talked big, but delivered very little, and the Mullah thought himself safe here, for he knew that President Musharraf would not dare allow any American operation within Pakistan’s own borders, for fear of an uprising against his regime by the more extreme religious elements, all followers or supporters of Al Qaeda.

       Israel did not respect international borders when it came to anti-terrorist operations, and a quiet word from the American CIA was all they needed to mount an operation of their own within Pakistan. President Musharraf was indeed aware of it, but would never publicly admit it. He was playing a delicate political game, only too aware of the extremists within his own country who were trying to undermine his rule. Should the mission become public knowledge, he would publicly condemn the Israelis, who knew they walked a thin line across international opinion. They had been walking such a thin line ever since the foundation of the modern nation of Israel, and they weren’t afraid to cross it if the need arose.

 

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