Getting the five hundred plus jihadists on board each flight without them realizing what was happening had been a logistical wonder. Allocating the various jihadists to planes where they didn’t know other group members had been difficult. When the groups were greater than twenty in size, luck and allocation of seating played a big part, as did the boarding. The instructions for each jihadist ensured that different areas of the planes were filled at set times. Meticulous planning had been involved in how Nick should instruct the timings of each jihadist, based on their seat numbers. Each jihadist’s instructions on the day depended on their seat number but this meant spreading the check-in over three hours. The excessive number of check-in desks ensured that, on arrival, the jihadists were checked straight onto the flight and as the flight was sitting and ready to go, they were directed to board immediately. By the time the later jihadists boarded, most of the plane was either asleep or faking sleep, desperate to follow their instructions, to keep to themselves and not draw attention.
“Do we have all the updates now?” asked President Mitchell, turning his back to the West Wing and rejoining the group, whose enthusiasm and elation had waned dramatically.
“Yes, Mr. President, all flights have been terminated.”
“Casualties?”
“All combat controllers have checked in safely. They jumped over a desolate part of Iceland and all have been picked up and are on board US Naval vessels that were stationed offshore.”
“The fighters?”
“All have landed back safely in the US.”
“Geller?”
Harry shook his head. “The video started playing early on his flight. Two combat controllers were still in the cabin. He threw them into the lift and with no more room, sent them down with orders to jump immediately. They just managed to parachute onto land from where they were. It’s unlikely Nick would have gotten out the cabin alive once the movie started. Even if he had, he would have landed in the water.”
President Mitchell nodded. The movie they had played on the planes was a very different version than the one played to the American people and pulled no punches.
Just like the announcement regarding turbulence and fastening their seatbelts, the video was in Arabic, ensuring that the majority of the plane would take notice. Some just did what the announcement had said, others had instantly realized that Arabic was not a language used for announcements on American flights. Whatever the reaction, the announcement had woken up everyone on the planes and ensured they were awake when the screens burst to life.
The video started with a grave President who then, with a smile, told them to ‘watch this.’
The real video of Caliph Zahir Al Zahrani was then played to the captivated audience, not the Hollywood special effects version that had created a digitized reality that had endeared Nick Geller to the jihadist cause. The real video showed Nick Geller promising the Caliph that he was going to kill as many suicidal jihadists as he possibly could and in the process wipe out the fundamentalists once and for all, cleansing the Islamic religion and Allah of the hate-filled crazies that had no part in the peace loving Islamic world.
The President then reappeared and through an interpreter told the jihadists that their hunger for death was about to be fulfilled by the might and power of the American people.
On cue, the fighter jets would then fly alongside each of the planes, before pulling away and sending the pilotless and crewless planes to the depths of the Atlantic. One option had been to do away with the fighters and just let the planes run out of fuel or have the remote pilots fly them into the ocean. However, the fighters ensured the planes went down exactly where they wanted them to, the deepest part of the Irminger basin.
“I want every available ship and plane looking for Geller,” ordered the President. He had no illusions at the beginning of the operation that the chances of Geller surviving were anything more than slim to nil. But as time progressed and he had, piece by piece, brought the plan and the traitor to life, the more he thought they would see Geller again and have the chance to congratulate him for what he had managed to accomplish, an achievement that was nothing short of monumental to the world. The selection criteria for the jihadists had been precise. Only the true believers who, without hesitation, would give their lives for the cause they believed in. A cause that was so warped that they would have to kill or be killed.
However, thanks to Nick, the lives and souls of the most devoted and experienced members of the jihadist organization were now rotting three miles below the surface of the ocean. Their leadership, structures and lifeblood were gone forever. Each of the groups had offered up their best men, their leaders, their number twos and their team leaders. None believed they would all be selected, none knew they had all been selected. Nick had hinted many times that only the best of best would be offered the opportunity to take the fight to America. Every man whose name had gone on the list was selected. They had all been so keen to take the fight to America, that none had thought to question what they were doing, or the effect of what Nick was doing would have on their organizations. None could see beyond their opportunity to take their war to America. The jihadists had been dealt a blow from which they would never recover. With Flynn killing the prince, their monies were gone, their leaders were gone, their organizations were gone.
And so was Geller. Although whatever had happened, “Nick Geller” could never have resurfaced. For the plan to work, his demise needed to be believed. Nobody could ever know the jihadists had been tricked. Nobody could ever know that Nick only had one real vial of virus. He had destroyed the other forty-nine even before leaving the medical research facility. Nobody could ever know that the Americans had designed and executed the plan to rid the world of over ten thousand jihadists. As far as the world knew, the Americans had intercepted one inbound flight of virus-ridden passengers and jihadists. They had no choice but to shoot the plane down to save the world.
As far as any individual jihadist groups were aware, the three hundred jihadists who were killed were all the jihadists they knew. That one plane, to each group, was their group of jihadists. Their leaders, their team leaders, their best warriors, all gone, along with the man who had promised them their dream, Nick Geller.
Nick Geller was dead no matter whether on the plane or in the sea. Nick Geller would live on as the greatest “traitor” in American history.
Epilogue
Frankie had been in labor for over six hours. She breathed in between contractions. It had been a tough six months but Castle Rock had been welcoming and she easily found a job with the local police force and was promoted within the first three months to Commander of the Serious Crimes Division. Outside of work, she kept to herself. Once the baby was born, she told herself she’d become more sociable but she wasn’t sure that would ever be the case.