Forks and Junctions. Deviations and Germinatives

http://proza.ru/2020/01/16/210
http://proza.ru/2019/05/26/1975 ; http://proza.ru/2019/12/16/169

/* illustration -  "The Grey Tree", 1911, Piet Mondrian. */

Forks and Junctions; Deviations and Germinatives.

Part 1. The Son.

All the best - courage, kindness, honesty and love - we want to see in our children, and probably a person lives in the world to convey the best qualities to them, because only such a person can be truly happy. And doesn’t he commit a great sin, dying at the age of twenty, calling himself a martyr-shahid, never knowing the charms of this world. Great Allah gave him this opportunity, and who, if not him, the creator of the destiny and being, can decide would or should one live or die.

Chapter 1

Some odd state; it would seem, another day has been and been lived, and here are the stars and the full-faced moon outside the windows, but you continue to live this day, as if you had not worked something through. Something very important ails and does not allow to get an oblivious sleep; Sashka remembered he did not manage to warn Moshe, his commander, about one alarming fact, and now that Moshe has gone, he was blaming himself for not reporting on in time. One tiny bit - and "the sleeper" activated his executables. Would he inform in time, and perhaps there would have been no such terrible explosion in the center of Europe, and Moshe would have survived. The brilliantly prepared operation required additional heave-offerings and price, and all because he has not pay attention to exactly how the agent handed that damned newspaper to "the sleeper". How many times he watched this, and always the result was the same, they talked about something and parted peacefully, and no events occurred. And here ... the newspaper has been transacted not as usual, the page was unfolded so that a text faced the transmitter person, now he clearly apprehended this, and namely that was the signal for activation. Alexander Mekhlis was serving in Unit X not for the first year, and such an omission, he simply had to notice, no, he just was obliged to. And now - a failure, and only by Moshe's selfless efforts it did not lead to even greater loss, three of the four terrorists were eliminated, while two of them were removed by Sashka, the fourth disappeared, and the best friend and mentor, Moshe, died. Reporting to the headship about the operation completion, Sashka especially emphasized the way the newspaper was handed over and took responsibility for himself, blaming himself for the omission resulted in the death of a valuable employee and the escape of the terrorist, the alleged explosion organizer. The headship promised to analyze the message and sort it out, meanwhile give Sasha a short-term vacation.
How much Sashka dreamed of landing at home, where his father, mother and younger sister were waiting. Sasha was from a martial family, his father was an active permanent officer, as his mother, and his sister studied at the Music Academy. In all normal families, children have two grandfathers and two grandmothers, Sashka was lucky, he had three grandmothers and three grandfathers. The third were the Feldmans, his mother even took their surname, and he was named in honor of his parents deceased friend, Sasha. His father told how Alexander Feldman fought, how he was severely injured in battle, how painfully he struggled till the end, and how many people bid the hero a final farewell. Since childhood, Sasha knew he should become like his namesake, in order to deservedly carry the name with dignity and honor. That is why he went up in the elite troops of Unit X, which was engaged in especially dangerous terrorists' destruction. Global terrorism entailed the need in Unit "X" creation, such as Sashka and his comrades, were the modern Israeli army elite, they were high-class experts in the electronics, skilled in various types of weapons; they were excellent psychologists, knew work with the field intelligence cases, and were able to covertly combat the most dangerous evil, Islamism, far beyond the state's borders. The Israelis were among the first to realize the need to fight Islamic terrorists on the far approaches to the state's borders, working closely with other countries' intelligence services, when and where possible. Unfortunately, not all countries understood the Islamism threat, and therefore Sashka and his colleagues were sometimes forced to rely on the support of the underground, constructed to oppose the liberals-liberalists with their slogans about "multiculturalism" and "tolerance" and despite of. Of course, not all Muslims who came in the countries of Europe and the USA were potential terrorists, but along with peaceful people well-covered zombies were arriving or thrown about. Upon legalizing, the sent and planted were turning into the so-called sleepers ("sleeping", or "in hibernation"), like some devices in a stand-by regime, waiting for a certain signal to activate their actions. Of course, it was not always possible to detect them, but any warning became quite a reason for Israelis tourism reducing to that country, often the Unit fighters were under double pressure: both from the state where terrorist was considered a citizen, and from the world Islamist organization, "Organisation of Islamic Cooperation", but many were managed either liquidate or transfer to the judiciary. Islamic terrorists were aware about this, they knew, in any country a 'retributive sword' awaits them, in particular, an Israeli one, and therefore, taking advantage of the European leaders' intellection sloth, they scored with the sent agents' quantity. Muslims invited as cheap labor, even accepted out or admitted to citizenship, not only did not absorb themselves into the life of the state where they lived, but started imposing their attitudes, rules and their worldview, coupled with behavior patterns, onto these countries and their vernaculars. The Europeans' liberal twitches were met unto aggression and rejection of the order and lifestyle established in these countries. And if at first the requirements came down to the mosques construction in areas of compact Muslim residence, then further on statements were made about the necessity to comply with Muslim eating rules in public catering facilities and all places of food services, obligatory hijabs wearing for schoolgirls, especially those of Muslim origin, prohibition for visiting to Muslim districts by non-Muslims and women in European clothes, and celebrating Christian and other non-Muslim holidays in such neighborhoods, and so on. Inevitably, there appeared also many discontented from the side of the indigenous inhabitants, what Sashka and his comrades took advantage of. Now, all Islamist extremism manifestations were closely monitored, the most active, for unknown reasons, went on a date with the houris-huriyas waiting for them, and those remained in the real world were made to pause their practices, figuring out these were punishable. The warring parties' forces were not equal or even balanced, but retaliation acts sometimes cooled overly hot heads.

Could Sashka, a successful Technion (Israel Institute of Technology) student, ever imagine he would become a Unit "X" fighter? It’s just once an unremarkable person came to the institute, talked with Sasha for a long time, and then said: “We are assorting people for the unit now being created, this is not the Mossad and not internal intelligence, but something new, and we will not fight with spies and saboteurs, not with local terrorists, but with world-scale terrorists. Today, no matter how unpleasant it is to say, any Muslim can be a member of the global Ummah, the international Muslims brotherhood. Any of them, regardless of residence country and citizenship, can become a potential terrorist. For a long time, we differentiated the Muslims on good ones and bad, civils and dictatorship' slaves, those financially well and those socially dependent, we distinguished Shia from Sunni, those who live by to Sharia norms and those who does not. Islam is a new religion, constantly evolving, and this is successfully used by those who came to this world for the sole purpose: to kill. It is a very difficult task, of many hundreds of people to sort out the one who came to kill, sometimes it's almost not feasible, but when it is possible to prevent the death of even one single innocent - this is already a merit. Think over, take your time, finish up the institute, and, if you decide, here are my contacts details. Take in mind, in parallel with your main studies, you will have to learn a lot of things, this is a very hard additional load, not many managed to cope with. And one more thing: nobody, no one, even the closest, should know what your work is and what exactly you're doing."
The conversation seems to have being just recently, and how much he succeeded to have being done since. Six languages, and not only speaking and writing, but also thinking them; a psychology and a jurisprudence of Europe and Asia countries, you could find yourself in any unpredictable situation and in a country far from a democracy and not necessarily strictly observing international rules and laws; skills in all types of weapons or objects which could be used as such, crafts in methods of contact and non-contact combat; camouflage and artistic transformation into another person; hacking and radio games, and much more. No one knew what Sasha, being listed as a programmer in one very prestigious company, was actually doing, it was only known he was rarely at home, and his work was associated with frequent business trips. His mother used to say he had already traveled all over the world, and there would soon be no one to program and debug programs, because Sashka would do this alone. And here is it, the long-awaited vacation, which does not please, because Moshe died, not just a fellow-combatant, not just a mission head, but also a friend. He had to take chances, had to open up, at the very last moment he realized that a bus explosion with Israeli tourists would happen in the coming days, so he was forced to come on a terrorists group liquidation. If Sashka knew what risk Moshe undertook... Sasha was instructed to remove the two covering back-ups, he did this noiseless and imperceptibly, as taught, and later on pathologists will long be shrugging and speculating on what caused their death. But Moshe, successfully liquidated the shahid, overlooked there is one more, the one who organized everything, the cunning and the treacherous enemy who killed him and skillfully got hidden. And now Sasha blames himself for a deadly stupid miss and can’t fall asleep, scrolling through the past days' events again and again and innerly giving himself an oath to avenge the friend death.

Chapter 2

This day Kamal remembered always. All relatives and acquaintances have gathered in the house, all the brothers scattered around the world by a fate, all silently sat at the table with Uncle Saddyk. “I brought the words of sorrow and the tidings of joice to this house,” - Uncle Saddyk spoke quiet and flat, - “The father of yours and the friend of mine, he died like and as a martyr, with the words "Bismillah!", “in the name of Allah!”. He perished while blessing and according thanks the Almighty and praising His deeds, and you, Kamal, as the eldest, must take vengeance the unfaithful for his death."
Hatred for the accursed slayers seethed then in Kamal's chest, and he vowed to kill the infidels always and everywhere, as his father Jhurah did. Long, oh, how long he concocted and varnished this requital act in the center of Europe. In Belgium, a true democracy state, a bus and thirty-six his father murderers were supposed to surge into the air, burnt pieces of their meat should have been dispersed across the square in front of the airport building, but the damned Israelis got his group nosed for, and he had to make hoofs off. He was not afraid of being convicted of this murder; he knew, in a free and democratic Europe, victims would rather be condemned, because it is the Palestinian freedom fighters who thus assert their rights. Idiots.
Madmen. They don’t understand that, having done away with Israel, we will do away with them just the same, we are the only ones who will become the hegemon in this world, his uncle Saddyk taught him so, and his father died for this. Today there are more than one and a half billion Muslims in the world, our women are prolific and fecund in the name of Allah and by His blessing, the stupid inventions of those kuffar's, kàfiruna'-kafarah', those unbelievers', the demography and statistics say our birthrate has exceeded 200% over the past ten years. Like Uncle Saddyk says, this is even more than some weird mysterious harmful influenza microbes, let them strike those kafarah, the unbelievers. So how come we should stay second-class people indeed? Does not this world belong to us rightfully? They give us citizenship, but in this same their democratic Belgium I did not meet many doctors or lawyers, my fellow believers, but garbage cleaners are more enough to not count'em. But it was us brought medicine to the world and granted peoples the boon of laws! All the great scientists of antiquity are Muslims, or they accepted Islam, realizing the Great Light of the Great Teaching of Great Allah and the Prophet of Him! They settle us in the ghettos at the outskirts, in houses which their native-inborns, these sissified weirdos, refused to live in! We are forbidden to build mosques, and our women are forced to work, serving the money-bags, with open faces. Albeit we come to them with open souls, bearing the Blessing of the Almighty with us and along with our rules! And they want us to live according to their laws, and work, or go to study their heretical sciences, as if we do not have a legitimate right to a better life, just because the Name and Word of the Only Right Faith are with us. No. This will not be. We will take everything, we will make everyone to live according to Sharia, and those who will not want to, we will kill. Either with us by our dogmas - or our sworn mortal enemy.
Kamal was fourteen when first took arms in hand and killed an enemy, since then he has killed many, and never regretted. To kill became his profession, to kill always and everywhere, and even his own death did not scare him, because a true Muslim differs from a non-Muslim in that he does not want to live happily in this life, death for him is not the end, but only a transition from one life to another, so great prophet Muhammad said, may he be a pleasure in Allah eyes. Kamal rarely saw his father, he came and left again, his mother and aunts - but what could they give, except to tell how their husband and his father was in fight for the solemn Allah cause. It was later on he learned what father was fighting for, it was later on Uncle Saddyk told him, their main goal is the world Islamic caliphate and the victory of Islamism around the world, and for this they become martyrs - the shahids, and their self-devotion and sacrifice are highly appreciated by the Creator, blessed He is. It was then Kamal took up arms for the first time, because he wanted, like his father, to kill infidels, burn their homes, and cut off their women their slutty heads. Started a simple fighter, he grew a detachment commander (Amir) and became one of Uncle Saddyk’s closest associates, Saddyk trusted him with the most difficult tasks. And here is the crack-fail, the damned Israelis have tracked him down, they've been following him for a long time already, sure, they got electronics and modern weapons, tiny cameras and wiretaps, and we only got a desire to win, but this is not little.
Kamal did not study at the university, all his knowledge and all his education were margined with elementary school, but the muallim (teacher) always said a guy would make a sense. He learned two languages on his own, English and German, and, although the pronunciation left much to be desired, he began to visit the countries of Europe often, first as a tourist, and then as a legal emigrant. "Our task and the minimum program," - Uncle Saddyk taught, - "To as many of our fellow believers as possible could settle down in European countries as these countries citizens, later they can call for their relatives, since current Europeans liberal laws allow and even encourage the families' reunion, and then and there... We will flood Europe with Muslim-Islamists and force everyone to live by our laws, we will oppose and contrast their tolerance to our religious activity and onrush, and believe me, all these spains and englands, frances and netherlands will become the Islamic Caliphate part, we will conquer not only Europe, we will get the whole world". Indeed, the anchored migrants began to gradually reclaim from the indigenous population, at first small plots, and then entire districts in cities, on the outskirts there appeared whole immigrants' settlements with their laws, their watch groups, and their norms and rules of communal being-and-living. Representatives of law enforcement and social services avoided visiting these places, wary of mass unrest, and such things happened not rarely, because the main thing and above all is Muslim solidarity, and, like at boyish rumbles-wrangles, if one of a drove or flock member got “insulted” - “oppressed” (especially by police or other uniformed person, but not necessarily), then the whole district stood readily up for the offended and oppressed. Tomorrow belongs to us, and if we cannot obtain something peacefully, we must rob it away, and there is only one way, the route of holy jihad. Tomorrow belongs to us, and if we cannot obtain something peacefully, we must rob it away, and there is only one way, the route of holy jihad of the sword. Uncle Saddyk was wise and clever, he gave Kamal books where the thoughts and sayings of great Islam sages, may them receive Allah's mercy, with references to the Prophet Muhammad, may Allah be merciful to him, were collected. Kamal believed armed struggle would yield results, and in the end would lead to the final victory of the rightly faithful. He saw and scored how Europeans, who at first neglected them, more and more start fearing and respecting. Their politicians flirted with the in-comer aliens, as they needed their votes, their employers wanted cheap labor, and their women sought full-fledged men, not poisoned by alcohol and drugs. Children were becoming European countries full citizens, getting higher education, creating families with furnished Europeans, while keeping the Ummah members mentality.

Chapter 3

Early spring is this year. Ever since Mockej's daughter began working and bought him a wheelchair, he became independent from his close ones. Recently, to all his misfortunes, his legs started to give off, he hardly moved around the apartment, bumping his hand stumps on some furniture, risking to get overturned something fragile and breakable. Zinka was far from praising him for this, and when she was home, she often used grumbling and growling, and then put a chair on the summer veranda and brought Mockej out to sit and get some air. Actually, Zinka did not long at home a lot, and Tatyana, his daughter, also all the time disappeared at the institute, and such pleasures as sitting in the fresh air and breathing in the scent of the approaching spring did not fall often. But now, when Tanya got some job and some additional income, Mockej was got bought this high-class high-price motorized wheelchair, so he, having mastered the route from the flat to the veranda by touch, could on his own get out and enjoy the street smell, the still not strong spring sun warmth, and the sparrows chirping. And today, he managed to leave the room without any complications and exhibit his face under the soft sun rays, arrowing his visionless glance into the blue sky. “Well, after all, it's good to have a daughter,” - his thoughts were splashing and flowed leisurely-sauntered, alike those first spring rays, - “She is so nice, so kind, and always stands to my defense when Zinka gets angry and starts yelling.” Many times Mockej tried to tell who was responsible for his misfortune, but even a pencil specially invented by Tatyana, which Mockej could clamp with both stumps, allowed him to discharge only “Zheka-Jhurah” on a sheet, and then he mooed and howled something, and tears dripped from his eyes. Zina,Tatyana’s mother and Mockej's wife, recalled there was some Zheka, he died in Afghanistan, but what on that Jhurah - she could not understand, maybe another Zheka's acquaintance or pal who, like him, came home in a lead box.
The pension Mockej prescribed on was so misere it was barely enough for bread, and if it weren’t for Zinka's hunting for and catching up any job, they would hardly survive. But now it's over, there is a daughter who began to work, and life will be kind of easier, and besides, Zinka is not the same, her age and the toils and concerns of her early years pretty much fretted her health, she more and often complained of joint pain and got tired quickly. “Life is such a freaky chancy chunk,” - Mockej thought, - “Probably, I lived plainly wrong, well really, what can I remember? Prison, a gang, big money. Was there happiness in all this stuff? For what sake did I waive and cut off Zinka, see, and with a baby? When I got mutilated, didn’t the same Zinka, signed everything as forgiven, rushed up to help? What just was it like for her with him, a crippled maimed stub-cob, and with little Tanya..." Mockej yet hoped friends would help, thus returned to Tashkent, but rather sand would yield fruits… Habib bathed in power and money, yet made Zina to trail and lug thirty-kilogram bales from Turkey. Though, mangy rotten dog, he was heels licking, and still more, whether didn't Mockej bring more than enough into the pooled pot... whatever anyway. God be their judge. The main is he's got a daughter the beauty.
Hearing the shoe heels light clop, Mockej smiled broad, it was Tanya got home from the institute. Mockej always recognized her gait immediately, now she came up and touched his cheek with dry lips. “You sit here for about twenty minutes more, meanwhile I’ll cook something and feed you,” - Tatyana cooed, - “And then I have to prepare for a test.” Tatyana was at the final university year in the foreign languages faculty, she studied Arabic and Farsi, but for some reason she chose some dead extinct Hebrew as her diploma theme, perhaps she was the only one in the entire course who studied this language. Zina once said: "Why do you need this language, who speaks it now?" And Tanya replied: "This is the language of the Bible, and it is spoken in Israel, you would just have heard the Bible sound on it, like music." Sergey-Mockej understood nothing, but he remembered Sasha and Dina, imaging they chatter this biblical language. Where are they now? Supposedly, happy in their Israel, and do not know what a messy meanness their former friend Zheka committed. “Sasha, Sasha, help, avenge me,” - but only an inarticulate mooing escaped from his mouth, and the wreckage of his arms tensed, Mockej burst in a cough, and Tatyana run up to relax him and wipe the sweat drops appeared on his face. "Daddy, dear, calm down, what did you get so excited?" But Mockej could not quieten temper, his whole gut grains, his entire self were starving a revenge for him becoming a cripple. "This same Zheka-Jhurah made me so." He ached to shout it out as loud so Tatyana could hear, but groans and wheezes came from the throat, and Mockej cried into tears from incapacity and frustration. "Maybe you don’t want me to study this language? You tell me, dad, and I will do like you want,” - but Mockej waved his head negatively.
At the end of the institute, Tatyana already had many private students in English, mainly well-off parents' children preparing to obtain foreign, European or American education, but recently there appeared clients wanted to learn Arabic, those also were not tight with payments, hence Tatyana was very busy, yet there came money - the money that was so lacking. Actually, does the father need a motorized chair only? Needed are the modern prostheses for hands, needful is an operation for him be able to speak, she heard this is possible, but all cost a lot, a lot of money. And would the matter mere in money... would there be money to go to the country where such operations are performed, and prostheses are a big problem, too. Not only is the country the Muslim one, but the parent himself got all compromized by his criminal past, and therefore, when filling out the questionnaires, there were all sorts of difficulties and a visa denial. One of the reasons Tatyana undertook to learn this language was subtle the hope someday she would be able to break out into this country and help her father. And the help was needed, since both Zinka and Tatyana noticed the suffering on Mockej’s face more and more often, as if something oppressed his consciousness, and as he could not share it, his torment and suffering intensified.

Chapter 4

A weird sense, a feeling of dissatisfaction. Seemingly, the operation was successful, dozens of people were saved, well, a friend, a teacher died, but it’s their job to take risks every day and expose the breasts, if it is possible to save someone’s life, well, one bandit escaped. But in fact, in each work there are faults and errors, they are inevitable. Yet still. It’s not just the terrorist and the murderer who left, it's a seasoned bandit gone, Sashka knew of such kind, this one wars not for money, but fights for the idea, those people usually do not become suicide bombers, and this one will not sit back hidden, he will instantly start preparing a new terrorist attack. The addressable pinpoint-dotty elimination of terrorists has been practiced in the State of Israel since a long time, usually Mossad was behind such engagements, usually these were gisted up the destruction of high-ranking gang leaders and terror inspirers-organizers, sitting in bunkers or in clandestine flats, making themselves felt only occasionally. Unit "X" was autonomous, who directed it, who set the task - remained strictly secret information even in Israel itself, but its fighters acted anywhere in the world and were not limited only to the elimination of leaders and high-ranking terrorists, but sought to terminate an entire network, including militant groups sponsors, their political and economic support. Thus, “X” was an international anti-terrorist organization, many countries recognized the threat of international terrorism and began to combat it vigorously. Now, not only the ringleaders, but also ordinary militants did not feel safe, not sure what would be the globe's spot the retribution arm would reach them, no matter what slogans cover up their activities, whether it be a national liberation movement, social justice, or the religion strengthening and preservation.
The world felt and realized, the solution to any problem should take place within a particular country law framework, any surge of aggression and banditry should be severely punished. Of course, not everything is simple, the prerequisite was to overpass the double standards path, clearly articulate who is the terrorist, and what should be the measures and steps. To pass someone to the hands of justice or execute summarily is a subtle verge, actually a razor’s blade, and not always and not everyone should be to tag by an out-of-court killer stigma, such an approach could easily slip to anarchy route. That's fine, if and when your actions were conformed to and coincided with the law-and-rule providers by the country legislation where the terrorist was detected, and if not? You yourself could aptly-nimbly turn into a “ruthless killer”, and then you yourself would be a hunted target. Some successes were achieved very, very arduous, yet they were. The awareness the world was facing a new threat rallied the civilization and the colleagues and helped the work. Now Sasha and his comrades were to find out who was that organizer, managed to break out of their net, clarify his connections and contacts, investigate who was his spiritual, political and financial investor, and ultimately who is to be the accused and claimed. The job was partly done, the node active block was eliminated, but this is only the iceberg tip, the rest remained shadowed. Well, it's still possible to scan and pitch up specific connections, but this would be associated with huge risk and loss, which the “X” chiefs could not go for, and now whole stuff should start from the start.
Sashka was sitting at the table, smoking and thinking when his mother came in. Same fine and fragile as in youth, with a girlish figure, though with a noticeable silverness in her hair, but smiling and with a clear, attentive and soul reading soul look. She went up and tenderly frayed up curly-haired withers: "So grown up you are, sonny, you have to settle down and set a family. Really, what kind of life is this, on permanent business trips, always on a move, you don't happen at home upto for half-year, you'd better quit that job, get married and live like all people do. Watch at your sister, she made me a grandmother already, and you..." Sashka looked at his mom, his fluffy long, almost girlish eyelashes screened his eyes: "Mom, ain't you any grandmother, no means, you're so young and pretty, and as for my job ... well yeh, I got such an employment, nothing 'd be do, someone should fulfill that work-n-run-in."
- Get married? Why should I marry, when I have you, just think, what kind of wife would want me, with my endless on-duty journeys, would she really like her husband absence for months? And I won’t leave my occupation, still you put up with it, and when I’m at home - it's a solid holiday. And you are not meaning to pension off, and the guys gaze you after, dad told me, and if you get your hair dyed, nobody gives you more than forty.                - Well, well, you flatterer. You won’t buy me this way. I want, listen up, I want your children to call me grandma, I want you to finally steady down and find work with no such long-time travels, and, finally, I want another woman to take care of you whom you'd present and please with flowers and compliments to.   
Dina was laughing larky. Sashka understood she was right, he gotta drop, much the more, all the service times had already up, and to find a place in his direct specialty was also not a problem. Any company, and not only in Israel, would be happy to hire his level specialist, but the thought the recent operation remained not completed, as well as the friend and mentor death prevented the last step. He glanced at her and said:

- Sorry, mom, sure you are right, just hold on a bit, one thing needs to be straightened up, and I promise I'll make my mind up and find an opportunity with no these long business trips. Mammy, I real promise, this will happen very soon, only in a month I'd have to leave again, and there 'd be no phone access neither mobile connections, so I pledge I'd regularly write letters to you.               
- That's where are you going to? Siberian taiga? Or maybe African desert? But there are no computers out, too, and programmers are not needed.               
- Well no, much closer, just the work I'm entrusted is secret, and the company head demanded there be no contact with the outside world until I prepare the project, so be content with letters that will also censor checked.
 
This was not the first time, Dina was already used to it, and she was also used to not asking her son questions related to his work, so she said nothing, just looked at him tenderly.

Chapter 5

Today was an unusual day, Habib himself came visiting Mockej. Mockej was sitting on the veranda and exposing a two-day stubble to morning rays. At once he felt extraneous footsteps and was already up to an alert mooing, but Zinka outpaced him, greeting Habib. Just where did the errand boy at Mockej's vanish to, now this was a solid, full-massive-bellied master-mister, full-respectfully named Habibullo Usmanovich, the former Tezikovka ruler, everyone and everything today depended on him, while all local sellers and all tents' and shops' owners gilded him a monthly lot. After having blessed, benefactored, and benevolently patroned Zinka by accepting her to work in one of his tents as a seller, Habib unfeignedly considered the Mockeev family owed him till the coffin grave slab. So why did the grand lord himself come down to modest peddler Zinka?  What caused this visit? At night, a man from Saddyk got to Habib and passed a word, a person needed, must know Arabic and Turkish, gotta sent as a courier to Turkey and bring a couple of strips with negatives out here. Habib immediately thought of Tatyana. Why, you see, she's a young chick, knows the languages, well-packed prints 'll be sewn into the coat lining, she just gotta hold it as hand luggage, she flies to Moscow, you see, it can still be cold there, and then, well, maybe to Siberia, who cares, and for this small excursion, Saddyk promised, if the case pulls nice, he'll roll off heartily. And yes, Zinka is no longer that heavy-duty horse to swipe and lug the stock bales, she got worn out, time for green-fresh filly to work and help the family. Habib said he will smoothe the matter and went to Mockej. "Eh what, your gal at home?" - Habib's eyes scanned the house accouterments and scuttled through the furnishings and fineries. Heat-sight valued Sergey's electric chair, such a stroller costs money, but where gotten the money, on what Zinka gets is no buy so expensive piece, maybe Mockej has some stashed pot left, or their daughter gained, and how these Russian hussies-pussies earn? Habib once again examined Mockej’s modest interior, yah but really nothing real, the furniture is crummy scuffed, the TV is antediluvian, and the daughter is fool, would she been more complaisant and nice – she'd bath in gold. How much times did Habib roll up to her, she did not accede, said kinda, see, her father would mind, and his presents she got refused, and what's her father, only bleats and twists his head, just why hadn’t they sewed him down final, what sake this mooing broken basket case is kept live. Ay no matter, let her just fare up to Turkey - there they quickly get her shut up nd tootsied down, then me too 'd have compassion nd take a pity, heh. But only it's need she goes alone, without momma, else Zinka, that bitchy punchy virago of hers, got known all there Turkish chasers and chisellers, and gonna spoil me whole cherry-candy.

- Look, Zina, here's such a draft. Needda go for goods, and the dealer you hobnobbed got sick and dropped business, I scraped a new guy, but he got no a bean in Russian, yet needda sign a doc in Turkish, and you make no damn it out in Turkish. So I thought, maybe your girly will go, she is friendie with language, she can read the paper stuff, and if anything, I’m in touch, she 'd sign the contract and deliver the merch, besides she’d gain not bad, and you'd meanwhile spin around in the tent, and could take a look after your husband. What 'da you say?               
- Nah, what you say, Habibulo Usmanovich, she has to study, what kind a shuttler is she, really, she's no trader, actually; and I'd get troubled fretty worry sending her alone to Turkey, the gal is young, pretty, and you know what public there is. But why don’t you go?               
- Me can’t, got whole lots on hands and over-above, they gonna close the Tezikovka and wanna erase all tents, I saved back some shops and now move'em to a new place in Yangiabad and to other city places, your tent be destroyed, too. And mind you, if be no goods - I scatter out your leftovers into other tents, you'd stay without work, so think about it.
Zinka reckoned up, in considering.
- Well then, perhaps, the first time we go together, huh, Habibulo Usmanovich?               
- Not comes out, you gotta fit up and organize a new sale point here to accept a new batch in. Think, Zina, talk with your daughter, I need your answer tomorrow, you have everything understood.

Habib weighty rose and went out. In the evening, a family council was held. Zinka and Tatyana contemplated whether Tatyana should go to Turkey or not, while Mockej bellowed and either nodded or shook head. Everything pointed, Habib’s bid should be accepted. The marketplace is to close, and if ther 'dn't be a new batch of goods brought in, Zinka 'd stay out, Habib not wanna open a new tent for unsold commodity stuff, he gonna simply cut prices to a minimum and send it out even before the store 'd be demolished. The main thing that was troubling and stopping - Tatyana must go alone. "But I better go cleaning rail station toilets than let you go alone! You got no idea what the black vipers these Turks are, they won’t miss a single skirt, they only respect their women, and only if she’s not alone but with a relative woman or with a man nearby, and they look at us like at venals, or simply street whores, like that. No way you go alone."
Zinka was screaming, stomping her feet, and finally burst weeping. But nothing can be done, Tatyana was feeling sorry for her mother, but made, as she thought, the right decision. She will go and fulfill Habib’s request. Zinka did not venture for over-persuading, she knew, if Tatyana had decided - she would not step back. "Got stubborned, you hard-head, just but like father. Well okay. Yet I will give you the address and phone, the man is not a Turk, he is of ours, his name is Boris Mikhalych, he got some kind of company there. He is a good man, he once helped me a lot, I guess, he'd help you, too, if, God forbid, anything wrong. Thus was settled, and Tatyana set to arrange her trip.

Chapter 6

Kamal felt the operation failure very hard. Not only the explosion did not succeed - but he barely legged off, his fellows murdered, they simple got their necks turned of. Another bad was him got lighted up and although the agent he communicated with was killed, there's no warrant his photo did not fall into the hands of some states' intelligence agencies, and now all these Americans, Israelis, British and even Russians unitedly exchange info with each other, so where from is to wait reprisal pay and backlash - stays completely unclear. And the bosses are enraged. Only Saddyk’s interposal allowed to lax all down on brakes, but even uncle Saddyk is not whole-powerful, and this should not come again. Must prove you're a devoted Allah warrior, since if you lose, then you lose, and if not, Allah Himself be your arms and armour, as you - be His tool and arm. He, the All Forceful, bestowed you life - that means you shall execute His will. Today, uncle Saddyk personally came to him. Kamal, in due order and properly, met a dear guest with a great respect, sit him on the honor place and treated him to on the level. Only one thing confuses Kamal, why Saddyk never looks straight into  eyes when tutoring and directing, for Kamal respects his uncle and is devoted to him, he knows how much he loved Kamal's father, how much he did for him, and indeed he is a holy man, for it is said by the prophet: "Cursed be the earthly world, and all that is on earth is cursed, except for Allah the holy utterrance, or zikr, and all that He loves, and except for theologians and those who study theology," Hadith "Sahih al Jami 'al-Saghir," so is written in the books uncle Saddyk gives. And Saddyk is a theologian, he knows the Quran and even writes commentaries on it, teaches the unenlightened and unsophisticated, like Kamal.
To no one, Saddyk would confess, even into himself he denied and could not admit he was a great sinner. His tainty sin consisted in the fact and deed that, edifying and teaching the right-faithful, he shuffled-garbled and lied. Muhammad ibn al-Hussein, may Allah Almighty be pleased with him, said: “It not behoveth to prudent Muslims to deviate away from Allah precepts through tricks that lead the truth be trampled and scorned,” - so Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani teaches, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him. The said by Rasul Allah, His messenger: "Be truthful, because truthfulness leads to piety, and piety leads to paradise. Beware of lies, because lying leads to depravity and indecency, and the lewdness and obscenity lead to hell. If a person ceaselessly lies and continuously adheres to a lie, then it will have Allah bewrite him being a liar, " - says the hadith of Muhammad al-Bukhari, may Allah be pleased with him and his father. And now, there is sitting Kamal, my friend's son, in front of me, and I lie to him about the benefits of killing infidels, I peer into his mad evil eyes - and I see nothing human, no warmth, only evil and thirst for murder, and nothing from modesty and humility or humbling, no commitment to attain the truth, that should be luminating the good faithful's gaze and his path to a righteous life and for paradise after death. And I cognite scare and feel appalled, because someday this arrogant and self-confident ignoramus with a flame of hatred devouring both his brain and himself will cut my throat as readily and easy. Here is he sits and worries he failed to kill another three dozen tourists, yet I’m even glad the action blobbed off, because would he had his plan accomplished, Allah would have written another terrible sin in His roll, a usury, since we are paid by the dead toll. And would write to my account, for the blessed are the poor in spirit, for and from whom the inquiry quest is alike and conformed. What is this stupid youngster whipper-snapper, thoughtless and merciless for the All-wiser All-knowing...
Forgive us, Almighty, we are mired in sin, and there is no forgiveness for us. It’s dreadful to lie, but Saddyk cannot be honest, either, there are too many lies in his sermons and books, too much money is paid for this, yet else, his days are numbered, he will soon appear before the Great Court. What shall or could he response? "For the glory of You, the Great, I violated the Islam canons and preached lies and violence"? But virtually, He didn’t ask it, Himself is capable to determine whom to execute, whom to pardon, and will condemn me for the sin of hubris, besides, and for a vainglory. Here I write in my books, “kill the unfaithful”, referring to ayah 4 from surah 47, but this is a directive of how to fight the kafirs-the kafiruna on the battlefield in a fair combat, “And when you meet the infidels on the battlefield, decapitate them with a blow on the neck ," but now the throats are cut not on the battlefield, not the soldiers-warriors are being killed, but quite civilians, women and children, thus is, a horror sin is committed and is being happened, the crime, meanness and abomination in His eyes. Jhurah was right when doubted and warned me, I didn’t trust, I thought, he's not a true Muslim, and an alien faith is strong in his soul, but the faith is same for and in everyone: lied - means sinful, killer - means sinner, thieved - means vile haram. And it does not matter who you are, a Muslim, a Jew, or a Christian, you will hold the answer to Him according to your religion canons, still these canons are the same with all.
Saddyk looked at Kamal again - and averted his eyes. "The Wise One sees, Great is Him and His name, I wanted to nurse a warrior of Allah and Islam. And nurtured a monster; he said: "Allah does not attach importance to the earthly world, and hence no laws and rules are here, on earth, and therefore any murder of an infidel or a sectarian is good and well for the Almighty and fine at Him, and I’m not a cowering creature and have the right, according to the law of Allah, Great He is, and in His name - on His behalf, in His part."" This younglet has already composed religion of his own, and already to me, Saddyk, he imputes, the "true believer" code of conduct, considering such a "believing" berserkerist as a true Muslim... The doomful and dreadful is what we officiate and minister, Almighty. We do effectuate the flagrant and ugly, we are guilty… Forgive us, forgive me, All-Merciful! Yes, there was a lot of politics and manipulations in our theory, in our interpretations and explications and clarifications we used and utilised only those ahadith that were usful and profitable for us to achieve our great goals, but these mindless puppies, they do not know a thing of, and entirely don’t want to know the Quran, they don’t have any notion or idea of Muhammad's preachings, may his name and deeds find favor in Your eyes, and there is a solid papped gruel of politics in their mellow-melted heads. But if so, then we become needless, they will perfectly bargain and deal with the authority-power seekers well without us. And we ... what about us? without us at the head of all this... chaos will come and the blood of the innocent will be shed. And be burned we all - and all together - in hell fire, for Allah curse does not kill, it combusts a person’s soul with scorching flame, leaving only ashes off, which even the scavengers' spirits do not eat.
Saddyk tries to bring insane Kamal into reason senses, but hears the response: “Ever since my father died, I give a crap about all the laws completely and altogether, it's kind of very hard to stay believing in God and constantly wish someone death. When I go to kill, I fulfill the will that I have heard from above, I am Allah servant and execute the sacred laws of heaven, for Allah has demanded this from me. I’m not afraid of death, for I was born for it, everything earthly is only a short-term ordeal, only there we will find the joy of existence, there will come the long-awaited quiet and comfort, and we will experience and we will conceive the sweet goodness and boon of paradise at whole measure."

- Where did you get this, Kamal, did you get a new mentor?               
- What are you talking, uncle, you and only you deserve my trust, I entrust my life and I confide my fate to you alone, and all my knowledge is from your books. You are the wisest, you discover the path and rut for me. Maybe you wrote it for a different reason, but it doesn’t matter at all, the main thing this is the way of truth, at such moments one wants to talk to it, because it’s scary to believe the truth was created by someone else, and you are the mere its slave, and it-self turns into the evil spirit of being's and life's fear.

Saddyk can object nothing, he shuts his eyes and shuts up.

Chapter 7

Tatyana arranged herself in the Tashkent-Istanbul plane seat, her bench-mate was an obese Uzbek consistently wiping his sweating bald. Baimurad Kadyrovich turned out to be the Tashkent machine-building grand enterprise' supplier and flew to Istanbul for equipment spares. Tatyana was ashamed to admit she was a shuttler-sack, and she introduced herself as a translator, which immediately attached Baimurad Kadyrovich attention. "You see, I’m not very strong in this Turkish, and there is need to sign a whole documents pile of documents for the spare parts supply, help me, Tanya-sheen, I’ll pay good," - Baimurad Kadyrovich peered begging at the travel-companion face, - “I’ve already been to Istanbul, I’ll be your guide and defender, it is dangerous such a young girl to walk around singly in a strange city.” His glance bashfully deviated from shapely legs barely hidden by a narrow skirt.
Ataturk Airport is one of the largest in Europe, there is a constant hum-booming of the aircrafts landing and taking off, as well of the greetings, shouts, conclamations, and directions meeting passengers from all over the world. Nobody met Tatyana, she by herself should make to the hotel, whose title was neatly written on a paperlet, and Baimurad Kadyrovich was met by a young man of a rather European than Asian appearance. It seemed all the more amusing to Tatyana when, introducing himself, he spelled the name Kamal, - almost Ataturk. She laughed:

- Say, is there anything in Turkey not related to Ataturk name?               
- Well certainly!

The young man smiled. "Would your will, with the extremest pleasure I could become your guide and show the Istanbul beautiness and attractions. Meantime, please do not consider an impudence, would you let me humbliestly offer you my transport. Which hotel are you staying at?" Tatyana unfolded her leaflet and read the address. “I guess, Baimurad Kadyrovich will not oppose we get you there.” Baimurad did not, and Tatyana sat into the car, entrusting the smiling Istanbulian the stuffing her things in the trunk.
The hotel, three starred, was not really the world topmost, but given the prices in Turkish hotels, quite tolerable, especially for just a week-stay. Tatiana unpacked her suitcase, took a shower and lay down on a wide bed, tiredness and sleepless night, combined with the anxiety of the mother for her, her own for the father, overtook theirs powerfully, the sleep piled on promptly and heavy. Meanwhile, Baimurad and Kamal went to a closed camp, officially listed as a Muftis training school, and held on a staid-proper oriental conversation, the first to speak, by all the etiquette rules and protocol, was the eldest, Baimurad:

- Pretty chick, a pity for her, you know, a Turkish prison is not lolly, wringing like that.               
- Don’t you waste so much, notta big deal she'd get. Well, they’ll stick-stack-stuck her, and check on, but there is nothing serious in those negatives, and you will depart meanwhile. We much greasy need this frame-up. The Turks rush in tears-down to join the European Union and want to curry favor with them, we gotta difficult to work, checks, searches, and still more, intelligence services have banded and pours off info to each other. I’ll take care of Tatyana, he-he, and personally, first myself, and then arrange her into some lamped parlor. Your president, I suppose, will not declare a state wanted list, and her parents, as I understand it, are not million-strongs, and a ransom would not offer. Now her life is in my hands, a chick could be useful, got some idea. Now in Middle - ha-ha, Central - Asia, it would not be a bad thing to set some scrap-brawl, let's say, get Uzbeks and Kyrgyz quarrel, and here we are with our slogans about the Muslims solidarity, we'd have spread round and got the former Communists shaken up-n-through, those bitches which now spruce up painted as independents and self-confidents. - Watch up the road, sank dreamed on, already rolled your eyes. Gonna kill yourself and send me to the next world with you. And I’m not in a hurry there, have things to finish hereabouts. All on Allah will, great is He, I will go there when He calls, myself not looking for death.

Kamal threw an askance glare at Baimurad, what a coward nit, uses Allah for hid, just trembles for his miserable hide, skilled to mail others to death and scratch his tongue, here, such a fatty-mug he got grown eating. Never got into a real pickled scrape, even now he demanded guarantees, and decided to stitch up this doll. "A pretty gal, a pity for her!" And himself only thinks to topple her on back, and drools when gawps her ass.
A week in Istanbul flew by unnoticed quickly. Where only has Tatyana not visited with her new squire, what only miracles she has not seen! Here were the Blue Mosque, and the Big Market, and much more what this city is glorious by and attracts tourists. But there came time to come back. Today Tatyana will receive that very coat which must be passed to Habib - and goodbye, the famous "City of Contrasts". Co-incidentally, Baimurad Kadyrovich also finished his matters and is also going on the return trip. Tanya helped him with translations, and he solved all the concerns. On the departure eve, Tanya and Kamal walked for a long time in the city, exchanged phone numbers and addresses, but Tatyana resolutely stopped Kamal's weak and not-insistent attempts to get in her hotel room, and he did not show an ardent fervor. In the morning, a telephone rang in the room, an unfamiliar male voice, the voice owner called himself Boris Mikhailovich and promised to come in the hotel. Having stretched with crunch and pleasure, Tatyana hopped out of bed and ran into the shower. At eleven, she was called from the lobby and informed she is awaited. At the reception hall, Tatyana saw a rather elderly person of European appearance with a holding a wrapped pack.

- Are you Boris Mikhailovich?               
- Yes, it's me, and this is what you have to hand to Habib. Did you already have breakfast? If not, I dare inviting you to a cafe opposite, they make wonderful coffee there, would you agree?

Boris Mikhailovich smiled. Tatiana was a little confused, but in a few seconds she replied gaily: "Why not, I absolutely don’t mind to breakfast together with you, Boris Mikhailovich, just give me a couple of minutes, I have to change dress."
Then they breakfasted in a cafe, and Boris Mikhailovich told funny jokes that made Tatyana laugh till childlike non-mediated tears. After all farewells, Boris Mikhailovich cast a serious look at Tanya and dropped: "Have a nice trip, and be careful, babe." Tanya has not heard the warning in a routine phrase and did not relate as importance, only much later did she understand what Boris Mikhailovich meant.

Chapter 8

Istanbul Airport is huge, crowded and noisy. There is always a humming rumble and people crowding, some check in their luggage, others undergo a personal search, thus a routine busy circumstances. Having her luggage booked, Tatyana noticed to the guy examining her unceremoniously. So, just what has he seen, maybe something 's wrong with a hairdo, or, even worse, the clothes are not quite in order... She decided to visit the lavatory and take a carefully self-test in the mirror. The mirror showed she was all right. Leaving the toilet, she saw Baimurad Kadyrovich going through a customs vetting, and stood in line. Baimurad’s face was tense and he didn’t even turnabout; several people in line separated them. “Well, no matter, we’ll meet in the cabin and talk there,” - she thought. Unexpectedly, the customs officer, skipping the few people between her and Baimurad, approached her and demanded to untie the bundle. “There is a coat,” - Tatyana said in Turkish, - “Come on, do it,” - the attendant in charge stared at her in rage. Angry, Tatyana started to untie the knot, it was tight and did not yield, the customs official took a penknife out of his pocket and cut the rope. Unfolded the paper, the he took out the coat, it was man's, but not that did alert the seeker, - the lining emitting an odd crunch. He summoned his work-mate, who was just examining Baimurad’s baggage, the partner, without even finishing, quickly drew a chalked scrawl on the bag, let Baimurad go, and come to his fellow. Meanwhile, the official was already un-picking the lining with his penknife; the photo-tape negatives occurred under-sewn in different places. The customs officer got hold a walkie-talkie and called the police on duty in the terminal building.
“Fool, god, what a stupid I am,” - Tatyana thought, - “now that's it. A Turkish prison. I should give a sign Baimurad Kadyrovich, he will report what happened here to the embassy, they will help me out, and I will tell everything I know, all about Habib's errand and load, and about Boris Mikhailovich." Tatyana waved her hands and tried to call up her acquaint benevolent, but he pretended he did not comprehend anything, mere looked aside, and vanished in the doorway to the boarding entrance. She already saw the policemen approaching, when strong hands grabbed her and dragged her back to the terminal exit, the police rushed after. Now Tatyana, understood nothing, was clutching someone’s firm hand tightly and running, running away from this nightmare, these customs checks, and the prison threatening her, unknown why and what for. She was literally lugged out of the airport building and pulled into the crowd; Tatyana still could not sight her savior's face, firstly it dimed to her it was Kamal, but then she realized her impetuous savior was another, the one who thoroughly eyed at her up there, inside, before the inspection. They ran to a parked car, and a fast order followed: "Sit in speedy, we must get out of here as soon as right now."
Already in the car, the guy looked at the pale frightened girl and smiled hearty. They raced on the road off the airport and were silent. Observing her sudden rescue, Tatyana was pondering who this young man could be and when he would start questioning about her vicissitudes. But unexpectedly, the guy said:

- My name is Ali.               
- I am Tatiana, I am Russian, was here on business, for contract setups and stocked up on goods, but who knows what will happen to it now, of course, everything will be taken off the flight and searched, and I won’t be able to pick it up, and fly home neither, I have no money, and I don’t know where to stay. And why did you rescue me?               
- Where did you learn to speak Turkish so fine?               
- I am a student, studying at the foreign languages faculty and specializing in oriental languages, I know Turkish, Arabic and Farsi.               
- Wow! Even Farsi! Great, though namely Farsi is not quite necessary to be known in this country, the Turks do not especially like the Iranians, considered them not Muslims, but sectarians. And why did you turn up as a supply agent? Got your own store? Or can’t find a job in your field, and forced to trade? No, it's my mom trades, but she is only a seller, and the owner Habib is very busy now and thus asked me to go while it's a vacations in the university.” Here's my lucky trip... only troubles and losses.               
- Yes, dear, you got deep in trash, but didn’t you figure out you were framed?               
- Framed?.. How is it... Who would it be... Why?               
- But just your well-respected Baimurad, is it really not clear.               
- Consider me a complete fool, but I don't understand anything. After all, he was returning on the same flight.                - That's why. On the same flight ... comfy to track how everything turns out. The customs officers got a tip-off about you in advance, and while they were puzzled with your pack, they checked your friend sloppy-handy. Obviously, he managed to smuggle something very valuable. Tell me, who else was with you all this time?               
- Well, there was Kamal, but he is just a nice guy, and we just walked together.               
- Do you have his address, his phone?               
- Yes, but why?               
- Well, that's later, for now we need to find some night lodging.

They stopped at a roadside hotel, Ali went to make out a room. One room was issued, and there was one bed. Tatyana was ready to flare, but Ali explained, he could not execute two rooms, since Tanya has no documents with an extended visa, and her terms of a legal tourist stay is already expired. "You must trust me, then we get through, otherwise... You were played with and put for, you see, now don’t panic and worry, we’ll break out, there is also need to tell your parents everything is fine with you, so they don’t get panic and worry. There’s a phone in the hotel, so you can call them, don’t mind costs."

Chapter 9

Tanya’s business trip time passed, but she still did not return. Zinka was anxious and crazy restless, often cried and blamed herself for conceding and sent the girl to cope alone. She met with Habib and pleaded him to find out what happened to Tanya, - or she herself would go to seek for. "After all, aren't you interested? It's your goods, and I need something to sell." Habib made a worried face, but, as Zina realized, was not very concerned about the goods and documents return. He tried to comfort Zinka, saying the young girl just went on carouse feeling free, whom does not happen with, will back sure. Zinka was torn between sick husband and the search for daughter, she raced to the embassy, looked for people from Istanbul flights, maybe someone heard something or saw her daughter. But one night a phone bell rang. “It's me, - Zinka heard Tatyana’s voice, - “Mommy, don’t worry, I’m fine, I’m alive and well, I have a lot to tell you about this damned business trip and about your Habib ...” And Tatyana went silent, for how much Zinka did not try to shout up, the phone gone mute, even the beeps were not. Stifle the crying, Zinka came up to Mockej, he was pale, his hands' stumps trembled: “Don’t worry, she’s alive and everything will be fine, she’ll come soon.”
In the morning, Tanya and Ali left the hotel and drove to a koy, a Turkish village, where Ali had a small house. The house was run by a young woman in traditional national clothes, only her eyes were visible, huge and very beautiful. She looked Tatyana around and, snorted displeased, went out to the kitchen. A few minutes later she appeared in the room, carrying the tray with a fresh brewed coffee of a wonderful aroma, said something Ali, and went out again.

- Is this your wife? She is not very happy with my apparition in your house.               
- No, this is a sister, and she is unhappy with your appearance, mean, the way you dressed, they don’t dress like that in the hamlet, you need to change clothes, don’t be offended, please, Hatice is a good woman, she will pick something up for you. I have to leave for a few days, you heed and hold by her, and do not go out anywhere, and do not call anyone.               
- Even Kamal?               
- Him especially. I have to find out if he is connected with Baimurad and whether it is not dangerous to meet him. Besides, it's necessary to make new documents for you, and then we'd think about how you'd return to your homeland.

Tatyana felt much obliged to this man. A clump of questions, why he helps her, what made him take risks for her, remained unresponded, and still she confided him, she herself could not answer why, but there was something in him tended her believe in his intentions' sincerity. In thoughts, Tatyana often compared Ali and Kamal, and Ali's superiority was always obvious to her. Why? Perhaps Ali’s candour was read in his eyes, they were fair, and  those long eyelashes, like girl’s, they just turn her mad, and Kamal’s eyes were dimmed and cold, even when he said nice compliments to her, his eyes shed some false and seemed even more evil. Taught by her bitter experience, Tatyana was now afraid to trust anyone, so Ali also could not invite her full credibility, he too often left somewhere, and then, throwing glances at her, conversed in whispers with Hatice for a long, but there was no other option, she needed someone to help.
Several days passed, Ali backed home. "Here is it, now all seems coming clearer. The fact you were cooked-up-n-down was plain from the very start when they got unscrambled through the negatives. No crime, just Istanbul sights views, can be bought in any souvenir booth. Your stock went to Tashkent the next flight, so Habib did not lose, but I still could not figure out the Kamal's part. You see, his presence was not occasional, he is bound to Baimurad somehow. Before you fly home, and I think you are in danger there too, we ought to deal with all this, and here only you can help me, since only you have the opportunity to meet Kamal. Tomorrow you call him and set an appointment, and forget all you learned now. You ran with some guy, then you lost him in the crowd, then you lived at a kind-hearted woman, and now you have run out of money, so you called him because you don’t know what to do. Fear nothing, I’ll be near, but for now rest." Tatyana went to her room, and Ali was still quietly talking with Hatice. Tatiana pricked ears up and grew waried by, the language the brother and sister spoke was neither Turkish nor Arabic, it was a language that could not be confused with any other, the language of the Bible.

Chapter 10

After Tatyana’s runaway, Kamal was perplexed, he could not understand where she vanished to, and, the mostly, who was this rescuer, be he beshrewed, depraved to ashes his ashes be, from where did he fall out and spoiled all the game. He visited the airport, talked with the right people, inquired the details about the escape from customs, even found out the guy’s descriptives and hallmarks, but nothing else. And most important, he did not know where this Russian shoat is now hiding. Kamal’s plan was genuinely simple, it was him who phoned the customs control and warned about the package; after an arrest and after the jet departure, Tatyana was supposed to contact him, and he was to appear as a savior and help out the frightened innocent sufferer, especially since there was no crime on or behind her, and the film in the coat lining was just a dummy with silly postcards. He would support her up with her visa extension, and then - there would be mere a matter of time and compliments. He could even send her home if or when get bore and tired of. Now he does not know anything about her and, a shaitan onto her head, what she knows or what she guesses on. And she knows quite a piece, first of all, Baimurad, and Boris Mikhailovich and, of course, Habib, and she knows me. The question is, does she surmise the part each of us played in her lot and in the whole scene. The message received from Saddyk said the task was completed, and gratitude was expressed. Baimurad brought very valuable information, a little more - and the dream of the Islamic brotherhood will become a reality, and then all infidels will receive their punishment in the name of Allah and on His prophet Muhammad's appeal, blessed be his name. The Baimurad report noticed revolutionary coups were brewing in the Middle East countries, and “Muslim Brotherhood” could come to power on the wave, the nearest so-called Islamic revolution is expected in Libya. The Middle East states were already blazing in the civil wars fire, the Americans steeped in Afghanistan were unable to restore order in this country, now Iraq has joined, then there will be Libya and Egypt, Syria and Yemen, and further on Jordan, Lebanon and Turkey. And that's then the centuries-old dream of truly righteous Muslims will come true, the Great Islamic Caliphate will be reborn, in a new, even more magnificent radiance and triumph of victory. Saddyk could celebrate and exult: the life was not spent for nothing, it was not in vain he ventured and embedded into the minds and hearts of Islam fighters' ideas that are now being realized, in the flesh and blood, in their flesh - and with the blood of enemies, may they be cursed forever and ever.
The civil war in Libya at first was of socio-economic nature only, though, Gaddafi ruined relations and quarreled not just with Western countries, but also with the League of Arab States. The year 2011 was a break point for the overthrow and subsequent assassination of the Jamahiriya leader Muammar Gaddafi, which led to the Bedouin tribe's scission and Libya disintegration into a number of self-governing regions created on the territorial-tribal or clan basis, the supporters of the self-proclaimed so-declared Islamic State came to the rule in many of such. Libya events gingered up the Arab Spring revolutions in Egypt, and then in Tunisia, Yemen, Syria; they all started as protest movements against the clans long overstayed in power, and they all ended with the new leaders' arrival professed a radical Islamist ideology. The West and the US reactions were mixed, at first the governors enthusiastically welcomed the new leaders and their so-called democratic re-forms and re-makes, but soon they came ascertained the men not much convenient and completely unwanted grew to power, in particular, the Muslim Brotherhood movement' heads. Thus happened in Egypt, where after the overthrow of the Mubarak regime, elections brought to helm not the former IAEA head, Mohamed ElBaradei, who announced his intent to become Egypt president, but Mohamed Morsi, an active Muslim Brotherhood member, and only in 2013 the next coup by a group of military led by al-Sisi downturned and uptuned this mode. Riots in Egypt accelerated revolts in Tunisia and Syria, but not always the state heads renounced power willingly. In Syria, for example, the matter escalated into a protracted civil war with numerous casualties, and whenas in Egypt or Tunisia the wickered were hundreds, then in Syria hundreds of thousands.
But all this will be a little later, presently Kamal urgently had to find that silly gal who could shank snoops onto their trace.
In the evening, Ali came to Tatyana’s room: "So, are you ready to call and meet your friend?" Tatyana looked at him musingly. "I don’t know what to do, because I can’t believe any of you, maybe you’re right stating Kamal is tied with Baimurad, but you too, Ali, are playing some kind of your own game, and you’re not that you say you are. I heard you and Hatice whispering in Hebrew, I probably know this language not as fine as Turkish, but something I do understand." Ali was struck. He could expect anything, but to get caught, so stupidly, and whom, - by some girlish lass, a complete layman-outsider in intelligence-service games... well a sec... maybe not such an unlearned ordinary? Or maybe this is also a finy script, and the whole scheme is just to ledger him a bait.

- How do you know Hebrew? This language is not taught in your colleges and universities. Are you from the FSB school? There this language is really studied, and not only. I should not waste time helping you, as I see, you can quite do without me.               
- I am not from the FSB school, I am a student of the Oriental Languages Faculty, and I studied Hebrew because this is my diploma topic. In theses choice, our students take either the Turkic languages, or, much rare, from the Arab group. Nobody picked this one, I’m probably the first. I was warned that more than a “B” or "good" score would not shine for my diploma with that theme, but I wanted to read the Bible in the origin source. Not the one adapted hundreds times, with the evangelists' comments, but the very first. I have a Shapiro dictionary edited by Professor Grande and a self-tutoring text-book, I obtained it with great difficulty from an Israeli tourist, and nothing else, and without literature it is very hard, almost impossible to learn the language, and without live communication. You can help me, and I will help you. You want to meet with Kamal, right? Note, I do not ask who you are and why you need this meeting, I need help
- and let it be a purely commercial agreement.               
- Hm. You also are not as simple as you wanted to look like. Okay, suppose, a deal. Before your appointment with Kamal, we need to make up with a legend for you about how you managed to escape and where you were all this time, and most important - why did you decide to call him.

A few more days were spent on a script invention, and then Tatyana called Kamal. “It's me,” - she tried to sound timidly and spoke almost in a whisper, with slightly-tragic breathing - “I have no one to refer or ask, and I call you, please, help me...”
Kamal was gaped and gladden at the same time, this is it, finally this chicka disclosed up: "Where are you? Haven't you not flown off to Tashkent?" Tatyana took at telling Kamal haltingly, confusedly and tearfully about her misadventures, and when she finished and made an appointment, Ali looked at her admiringly: "What an actress you are!"

Chapter 11

Saddyk sat on the bank of Ankhor, which carried itself through a bustling city, like through time. The leisurely fluence of water and the coolness it breathed out soothed him. The instructions brought by Baimurad are very valuable; it is necessary to organize the free-will mercenaries recruiting from the Central Asian republics to be sent to the Middle East. Looks like, something grand is going to up, since it's not even hundreds are in talk, but thousands. Money? There will be money, a lot of money, there are such people and banks back-up its stream that we can go ahead no problem. One thing is bad, getting old, already no that energy, such enthusiasm, and it’s hard to run on-n-forth, I need an assistant, and who would be better Kamal for this job. Gotta call him to here, and enough's enough him be dangling out and about on those europes and pushing head under bullets, in the last action he barely took pins off, and I need him. From the last conversation, Saddyk realized the lad got schemed up with this Russian girl, say, she disappeared, and, say, she might know something or guess. Okay if she ends up at Turks in their police, they'd shut eyes on our tricks. But if the interpol comes out on her? Or even worse, guys from the international anti-terror clubization. Right today I'll call and order him to come.
Saddyk's call and his insistment to arrive brought Kamal puzzled. On the one hand, he was obligated to carry an order out, and on the other, something was to be decided with this Russian. Kamal tried his best to convince in needs to stay, but Saddyk committally demanded an early coming, they agreed on Kamal would meet with that Russian girl and right then go home without more ado. Tatyana was to the meeting place not alone, she was accompanied by some guy, she wore a closed black dress and a hijab, the guy named himself Ali.

- Where have you been lost?               
- Hiding from customs and police. I was very scared, was so good Ali helped, and Baimurad pretended not to know me, although I called and signaled him. Ali is an Arab from Gaza, he saved me and let me stayed with his sister, but I need to get home, and my document is expired. Please, help me fly away. You have some contact tracks here, don't you?                - Well of course I'll help you, but it takes time.               
- Time, time... That's what I don't have. Kamal, you know, my parents are going to get crazy there, and my father is disabled, and my mother cries all the time.

During the conversation, Kamal was throwing glances at Ali. Looks like an undoubted Semite, but not much like an Arab, there's something in him from a Russian Jew, gotta check everything here through. Kamal tried to quest where Ali lived, whether he was associated with Hamas, what he did at homeland, and why in Turkey now. Ali answered concisely, and finally stated he would allow no offense toward and upon the girl, he liked her, and meanwhile she'd live at his sister's. Then he wrote down his phone number for communication and pointed to call him when everything be ready. On that the parties have goodbyed.
Oddly, Tatyana resignedly followed her new boyfriend, while along counting on Kamal's help - and this was also odd. No, there’s a lot to check, there’s something wrong and weird. Sure, there are some binds and informants, but the Islamic organizations disunity and factionalism sometimes just does not allow to quickly and operatively run a-through on the person of interest, though Hamas ties are quite another matter. They can check up Ali’s identity and, if they dig up some bizarre, they will sure inform, and meanwhile I let her remain his hostage, altogether this way be less troubles with her, with the time, if some comes wrong, I resolve them both off. Meanway, it would be nice to report to Saddyk, he is wise, he will tell you what to do, and his connections are bigger and more serious, see, this Ali could reveal he be clean before the brotherhood and good to be used for the Almightiest benefit.
Contacting Saddyk, Kamal retold the meeting with the Russian chick and her escort and asked for information about Ali. All this made Saddyk utterly interested, and he no longer pressed on Kamal speedy return. After a little while, he received the full records on Ali's personality and score. It revealed, Ali really is of one Hamas combat cell' head, efficiently participated in Gaza Strip battles against the Israelis, and they are looking for him as an enemy to be destroyed immediately; inserted in Turkey with a view of sending a caravan to blocked Gaza; has significant connections with IHH, Humanitarian Relief Foundation, the International Non-Governmental Organization, founded in 1992 and officially registered in Turkey. This organization functions in 120 countries and is defined by the CIA as radical, having links with extremists in a number of Islamic countries, as well as with "al-Qaeda" - the "Found Base", the "Basic Principle". And although the Turkish flotilla mission of broke through into the enblocked Gaza failed, Ali’s mission was honor completed, and Ali himself was forced to hide from the retaliation. All he got known, Saddyk handled over to Kamal and asked him to offer Ali a position in their structure, away from the Israelis thirsting his blood: “By the way, if you can’t come yourself, ship this Russian sheep together with Ali, and here we’ll consider what to do of them both."
Kamal was very glad about this shift, for as much he painly did not want to return, besides, Saddyk's assignments usually fabled to distributing some brochures and persuading to become a shahid, and this was not for him, a fighter accustomed to prove his allegiance to Allah by weapon. A few days later, Ali was phonecalled; during these days Tatyana received so many books regarded the Hebrew language she could prepare not only her diploma, but also a doctoral dissertation.

- Documents are ready, Tatyana can go. But there is a suggestion, can we meet and discuss?               
- Well, why not, especially if the proposal is worthwhile.

At the meeting, Kamal straight forward proffered Ali to accompany Tatyana home.

- You kinda too fast enlisted me a caregiver and herder. Tatyana is a full-grown girl, can find the way herself. Or you do have some else, then speak up, and I'll think.               
- Okay, I’ll give you full-on. We checked your dossier and know who you are, we also know you walk on the blade verge, and the Israelis hunt for you, I contacted my chiefs, and they offer you to flee off here, as we are all brothers and we must help to each other. Like us, you war for the cause of great Allah, like us, you are a member of the great brotherhood Ummat al-Islàm, and we do not reject and leave the ours. Accept, bro. Both there and here great things await us, we got'em a huge lot, help needed.
 
Kamal told who Ali will have to work with and what he will have to do, shared they wanted to engage him to this stuff, but he is just an operative hitter-smasher, while here a literate sophisticated person is necessary. Still, Ali asked for a couple of days for think. A few days later, Ali called Kamal and said he had settled his affairs in Istanbul and ready to set off with Tatyana. This time, boarding the plane went noticeably smooth, Ali's and Tatyana's seats occurred be next to. Tatyana was joyfully excited from the upcoming meet her parents, Ali was somewhat tense, well why not, for the first time he flew to unfamiliar Uzbekistan where he was supposed to set up with Saddyk.

Part 2. Saddyk

The Allah will, which Saddyk preached and promoted, turned out a lie, the lies by Saddyk, and therefore, by violating the heaven' sacred laws, he became the Allah enemy, and Allah will demand expiation.

Chapter 1

Tashkent, the capital of the now independent state of Uzbekistan. Much has changed in this city, new houses, squares, shopping centers have appeared, but also there remained what was twenty, forty and even sixty years ago. It seemed, the street Tatyana lived on has not being changed for ages. The same neglected one-story adobe constructions, the same 'common amenities' in the courtyards, as if time had stood still namely here, on the approaches to this pre-war city, the same was in the 37th and 68th, and so will be today and tomorrow, already at 21st century. The same people, the same boozes and drunken-sprees, the same family scandals and hysterical screams of women beaten by besotted husbands, merely the children replaced their grandfathers and fathers, and now they, grown up, wailed in a topsy stupor: “I 'll kill you, bitch!”, inheriting the unchangeable relay baton. Ali first came in this city, and after the Hospital Market, verily eastern, where the kebabs and flat breads was grilling, with teasing by its smell, and forcing, alike Pavlov’s dogs, constantly salivate, and gearing up appetite, after mountains of dried fruits, casually laid out on shelves and counters, and after teahouse, where the Uzbeks in cotton robes, rained in sweat, drank hot green tea, this street led Ali in a shocked state. Ali, Alex, Sashka, Alexander Mekhlis, and that's him was the very “Palestinian” arrived to meet Saddyk, knew a lot about this city. Here his mother was born, studied and lived for a long time, she often recounted about this city that had received refugees from all over the Soviet Union during the war, and was rebuilt by the same Union after a terrible earthquake. A city where the internationalism spirit coexisted with anti-Semitism and the local population belittling attitude by the “elder brother”, who imposed the dominance of the Russian language and the Cyrillic alphabet along with the downwhelming demonstration of its superiority over an obscure ancient culture which was declared a backward holdover that must be fought, by learning and studying with all the diligence of the ignorant and the uncouth, as with the poor relative's reverence gratitude for the benefactions, in particular, in the form of the same Cyrillic alphabet, and where now, as if like a reply on  these humiliations, nationalistic chauvinism and the terrible enemy of mankind, Islamofascism, found place.
Ali was supposed to stay at the "Moscow" Hotel, the reserved room was waiting for him beforehand, but first he decided to accompany Tatyana home and meet her parents, which she also would strongly like. Was it an accidental or fate's irony, or providence itself, in no way dependent on the will of mortals-the earthly beings, but Ali came to the very street where his mother had once lived, and to very Mockej, about which he learned when a neighbor shouted greeting out to Tatyana and asked about her father's health, whom he named Mockej. Ali knew about Mockej as well, his mother often recalled him, he did not know just what Mockej had become, and was stunned, trying not to give himself out too much when he saw a helpless wheelchaired old man, blind, mute and armless.

- Why is he such way, who did this to him?               
- We don’t know, he came back from Piter like that, many years ago, and since then he has been trying to tell us something, but alas, youself can see, he only moos and moans, and then falls crying. Mom said he was very handsome and healthful when he left there, here he held the whole district and the Tezikovka, and before a leaving he passed everything to Khabib. When he returned, Khabib had already taken everything in hand and, as a great favor, took mom to work, Dad did not earn a pension, and disabled are given a penny, just so they would not starve to death. This is how we survive, mom vends, and I study, yet, recently there appeared private students, now many want to know several languages, and it's possible to make some money. Whatever, somehow we manage scramble out, thanks God for no worse... You know, once I fabricated something like a prosthesis with a pencil and asked dad to write what he wants to say, but it was hard for him handle, and the only thing we understood was "Zheka-Jhurah". Mom later said some guy named Zheka used to live in their yard, but he died in Afghanistan, and who is Jhurah - mom does not know.

“Yeh, your mom doesn't know, but mine sure does,” - Sashka-Ali thought, - “And I must, I'm just obliged to inform Mockej about Jhurah. Mom trusted Mockej, and I credit this man, he probably can tell a lot. He needs to be treated and cured, everything must be done so that he would up in Israel and testify, and they, I real bet that were them who mutilated him, they must pay response."

Meanwhile, Tatyana, as a hospitable hostess, went to the kitchen, where Zinka was already busy about, and Ali, seizing the moment he was alone with Mockej, took on emotionally whispering to the ailing man. When the women returned, Moñkej was sat in his prime chair and smiled, although, in his eyes, or in the place they once were, tears stood. Tatyana was the main talker at the table, since Ali did not speak Russian, and Zina did not know other languages than, therefore they communicated in Turkish, so Zina could catch a few familiar words. Then they had tea, and after, Tatyana showed Ali some from her ripe diploma, and they disputed for a long time and repeated words completely unlike Turkish, and later Ali, having promised he would visit Tanya soon, goodbyed and left. At the hotel, Ali entered his room not turning on the light, tossed things on the bed and sensed someone's presence. He pressed the button on the wall, a lamp shed a light. In an armchair by the window an old man sat with a reverend hoary broad-n-thick beard of an aqsakal, he wore a richly embroidered skullcap on his smoothly shaven head, he was dressed in a sound European suit and decent Italian shoes. “You are Ali, and I am Saddyk-aka,” - the visitor spoke in Arabic, - “Kamal sent you, where is his letter?”
Ali took an envelope with Kamal's message from the inside pocket of his jean jacket. From the side pocket of his jacket, Saddyk produced a case, put on his glasses and plunged into attentive investigation. After reading the letter, he grinned in satisfaction.

- It took you quite long to get from the airport. Well, I know, I know. Escorted your Russian sweet-birdie and sit-stayed at hers. See, I called you here not for love making, the help I need, great things will up soon.               
- Have heard a lot, Saddyk-aka. Kamal said he had already begun work up there in Turkey and resolved the question with the camp, and himself's eager to go with the first troop straight into battle.               
- Our toughs are of this kind: we cannot recruit people through the Internet. Those who have it, praise be the Highest, are in pretty well, and well informed, also here. And in qishloqs where the poor youths dwell, they not only don’t know about the Internet - sometimes they don’t even have electricity. Who will bring them our truth? But you’ll go, you’ll carry the literature, explain what is not clear, teach'em right ideas, well, and help materially. For a start-up, we gotta form three or four batches, and then we'll see. Well, agree and ready? If yes, then go tomorrow, I leave you all the instructions and literature, Allah is great and great are His deeds, may good luck accompany you.

With these words, Saddyk got up and warded out the room.

Chapter 2

First thing, Ali checked the packs left by Saddyk. Three of them contained literature, one sack in Arabic and two in Uzbek by Cyrillic; a small packet held US dollars in three bundles, of 50, 20 and 5; and on the table, instructions lay with names and places of the supposed meetings. Sashka was about to start filming all of this on a mini-camera, but remembered Saddyk was already in the room when he entered, which meant the number is being watched and listened through. That's why Saddyk has entrusted and dropped both papers and money so easy. Yeah, gotta hold on with the report to the Center. Ali went to the shower, changed into a tracksuit and lay down on the bed with one of the brochures in Arabic. Dulp-fiction reading about the unity of all Muslims and the fight against infidels turned out to be not the most fascinating, the whole day tiredness felled him into a heavy sleep, he closed his eyes without turning off the light.
Saddyk could not sleep, his repose was constantly disturbed by Jhurah. It would seem, how many years have passed since his death, but now and then he 'd will appear in Saddyk's shut-eyes, and again, as anew, 'd start arguing and prove, Saddyk will not see Heaven enclosures and pastures, and burnt be his sinful soul in flame fire. And today, just as Saddyk fell into a blurry-bleary slumber, Jhurah emerged, watched Saddyk with reproach for a long time, then talked by sepulchral ghostly voice: “Do you believe in God, indeed? If yes, then answer me this question: in both Islamic and Jewish interpretations, the words “commandment” and "precepted" contain a connotation of finality, ultimate designedness and immutability-unchangeableness. The Quran says: "Fasting is prescribed for you," thereby emphasizing: so Allah had ordained, and no one shall, and no one could will to change it and alter it, neither vary, no transform. Thus, if we are guided by the belief that, since Allah recorded Israel for the people of Moses, - then people are not free to change or reverse this, not in human will and not in human understanding are to regulate and correct Allah will and word, great and wise He is. As professor Khalil Mohammad points out and reminds, may Allah be merciful to him, in his work “The Quran about the Jews”, in the Quran fifth surah, in ayahs 20-21, it is said clearly and unequivocally: "and Musa said to his people:" O my people! Remember the mercy shown to you by Allah when He appointed the prophets among you, made you the peers and granted you what he did not to any of the worlds' inhabitants. Oh my people! Enter the Holy Land which Allah has decreed for you; you shall not turn backward (from fear of its rulers), or else you be suffered and bear loss." Consequently, starting from the seventh century, when Muslims first came to this land, they were well aware of who it belongs to and by whose Highest Will, great be Him, and His thoughts and deeds. And the interpreters and commentators of the Holy Book, may their works be acceptable to Allah, do also and same way recognize Israel - and Judea, the land of Israel and the country of the Jews - as granted to Jews and belongs to them justifiably, by birth right. This is what Ibn Kathir, let him find favor with Allah, says, a scientist and knowledgeable in the face of the Omniscient, about "foreordained (that is, bequeathed) to you (that is, them, the Jews)" in the ayah 21,   in the fifth surah, "to the earth, which Allah promised (that is, predestinated, forewrote and ordered by covenant) to you", namely, "the land Allah promised to you through the lips of your father Yaqub, Jacob-Israel, ibn Ishaq ibn Ibrahim, the land which is the heritage of those of you who believe." Thereby, everyone who refused to obey God's will (in any case, in understanding within all confessions that go back to Abraham's faith) - all are accomplices in the crime, because we claim the land and ground that does not belong to us, and we must thank the owners for giving us shelter. And you, what are you calling for? To the war with those sheltered you, and to the slaying them and their wives, children, old people. Once I believed you, but my soul did not find rest, it was destined to roam the desert, but your soul is even more sin and black, and an even worse punishment it awaits - and you."
An iron hoop squeezes Saddyk's throat, he gasps and wakes up of his own wails and howl, all in sweat, and can no longer fall asleep all the remain scrap of a night.
"Ooo, Almighty! Spare me from this Jhurah's ghost's visits! With his tricky and insidious conclusions, he convicts me of lying and uncover my false. Yes, I deceived, the sinful I am, forgive me, All-Seeing and All-Merciful, send me forgiveness, oh, Almighty! But I did in Your Name and for the good of Your decree and Your providence! To achieve the great dream of my fellow believers, using their discontent and grudge - and how else could this dumb herd be raised to fight for the idea of a world caliphate, a world, where will be only one God, the single ruler, and judicator, and arbiter - You, the All-Benevolent and Benefactor, who granted us happiness to know your truths and doctrines light - and which will live according to the Sharia code, according to the charter prescribed by You to true Muslims! And may I be an involuntary victim, violated the Quran surahs, but the descendants will grate and will thank me for my modest contribution." Saddyk sat on the bed and gazed out the window. From a cloudless night sky, thousands of bright stars watched into his eyes, dazzle and tear. "These are souls ... O Lord God Almighty, the souls blaze of those whom I, Saddyk, sent to death, for the sake of my own lucre and a perjuring spurious idea. Allah is great, he does not forgive liars, the Prophet Muhammad said: "Whoever spells a hadith on my behalf, knowing and aware this is a lie, is one of the forgers." And these Jews have statement about false prophets, how it is there, in their Book, "If anyone says that I speak through him, but I did not speak, he lies, and if anyone says that he speaks from Me, but I did not tell him - he be damned, for he lies and forgers." My God, all one to one, where could Jhurah, a convert, not a Jew, not a born Muslim, know all this? Lord, I told him, the faithful should not think much, and think in general, all the troubles of the world are from thinking, and all my troubles are now that this Urusi dared to think and reason... The faithful must believe, zealously and earnestly, Lord, You see and know, I have always believed and believe!"

Chapter 3

The city Ali arrived in was dirty and unattractive. The flat monotonous grayish-yellow palette from dust was enlivened only by a blue domed mosque, it was beautiful with a special exotic beauty that distinguished it from Christian and Catholic churches and cathedrals. The mosque reminded Ali, for Central Asia, the Muslim world meant and represented the future. What future? Clear and calm - or bathed in blood, with weapons in hand, at the will and behest of insane Saddyks? Now Alex, aka Ali, knew that Saddyk and people like him denoted the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU), an Islamic organization reputed for radicalism and close cooperation with al-Qaeda. The leader of the IMU was registered Muhammad Tahir, aka Tokhir Yuldashev. IMU was started talking about for the first time, back in 1988, when a group of theologians and religious leaders advocated "reforms in Islam" was formed, it included Abdumalik Abdusalom Mirzoyev, the imam of the Sabbatical, or Jami, that is of Friday, the cathedral Mosque (Juma mosque) in Andijan. Further on, students of this religious "authority" became IMU activists, and already in the 90s radical religious political structures were organized with the units' commandment staff throughout Central Asia. The military wing was under Jumaboi Khodjiyev, better known as Juma Namangani. The "movement" purpose, as declared, was the creation of the Islamic Caliphate in the territories of Northern Africa, as well as Spain, Portugal, Italy, France, Turkey, Albania, Bulgaria, and, of course, the states of Caucasus and of Central Asia, India, Bangladesh and Bhutan, the Philippines and Indonesia - a sickle, which subsequently was to mow down all countries of the Earth, including the main enemy, the United States of America, into the Islam cover.
In December 2002, after a series of terrorist attacks, the group changed its name to the Islamic Movement of Turkestan, idem the East Turkestan Islamic Movement, and also known as the Turkistan Islamic Party. The IMU headquarters was located in the Afghan city of Kandahar, the organization worked closely with the aggressive Islamic movement "Taliban" ("Pupils" or "Students"), but with the Americans arrival, it was forced to move to Waziristan, where IMU militants participated in the war on the Taliban side. In 2009, an American drone liquidated Tokhir Yuldashev, and the organization was headed by the new emir, Abu Usman Adil. Now Ali had to implement the new leader remove, the highly complicated task, and additionally, a reliable communication was needed. Sashka-Ali had already been racking his brains for days for how to fill out the assignment. He knew he has been weightedly monitored, still someone could help. There already was first group formed for sending, fifty young not very literate men who failed to find themselves in this country and in this life, who were ready to kill for money or die, they themselves did not understand, for the what sake, but simply living and staying here and now was so sickingly obtuse and tiresome bore of that they agreed to go anywhere, no matter what for, only to faraway off here. Nah, he could not trust any of them. There is one person who could help him and whom he believed, Mockej, but he is not young and not well. Or maybe it's for the good, who will pay attention to a sick old man who wants to improve his health? What is required of him is to tell, to pass information, but just that cannot be expected from the tongueless dumb, he also is not able to write it down, since he has no hands and he is blind. How could and would they there, up in his homeland, proceed the data to the Center? After all, Sashka could not ship either a note or a cassette with a recording. Encrypted message? And if it falls into the wrong hands? Saddyk has everything gripped here. But not in Moscow. Well, that's a solution, Zinka will fly to Moscow with Mockej, and from there to Israel, the risk, of course, 's enormous, but here is nothing else.
Sashka has just returned from another trip about qishlaqs and towns where he tried to harvest recruiting volunteers for the Islam' army. At the beginning Saddyk kept silent his comments about the recruited warriors, now, as he got more and more annoyed, he expressed Ali his dissatisfaction and discontent:

- Do you purposely collect those morons? They oughtta be taught and taught everything, they even had no estimable gun in hands ever, and I know, after the Union crashed, hundreds of militaries were left no work, and even officers as well. Just where do you exercise your campaigns to find only this expendable cannon fodder?               
- You are utterly and exceedingly right, Saddyk-aka. Only those officers you know about are soaked with patriotism they got drummed in their brains in their schools. They don’t give a damn about your Islamic calls, if you don't believe it - go yourself, and try to foist your pamphlets on them, they will quickly surrender you to the relevant authorities. You think the commies will leave them without work? They picked up nice warm places for everybody, but you - you lost your game. You didn't manage get to power, did you? Neither in Tajikistan, nor in Kyrgyzstan, not mention here, in Uzbekistan, where this communist' pet-suckling Karimov has flooded you all with blood. They do not believe you, Saddyk-aka, they do not trust you, and they do not credit your appeals. Wanna know, why? Here you write, the death in the name of Allah, great is Him, let His name be glorified, is a great honor, - and same time you push on them drugs and cash for this death, though the Prophet Muhammad, may he find favor with Allah, said that narcotics and usury is a vast sin. So what? You stupefy a man, and then you fool him of and offer him money for his life? A cash for exchange of a being? While he's under junk-stuff? It comes out, you bargain the honor of Allah name, His name is Holy and Sacred. And do you preach the ahadiths worthily? Not for nothing I drove through the qishlaqs, I spoke with respected people, with religious and spiritual authorities, with the elderly, and with common folk. They don't want to battle, they'd rather go to earn in Russia or Kazakhstan than go to war. So be glad for at least those agreed.
 
Saddyk is silent, but he thinks to himself: "The snotty whelp is right, we reaped nothing. Even where, it would seem, we won, the Soviet Union spirit is strong in people, and the former Communist Parties secretaries, now having seized power and being called presidents, have restored and established the old regime and orders."

Chapter 4

Ali began active preparations related to Mockej's voyage. First of all, it was necessary to contact the Israeli Embassy in Uzbekistan, what in itself was a quite complicated enterprise in the complete surveillance circumstances, but thanks to a good school, it was possible to outwit Saddyk's keekers. The conversation at the embassy took place well after midnight and lasted almost three hours, all points have been discussed, and the most important - the delivery of a living witness to the Islamists' atrocities. Mockej’s testimonies will permit not only reveal the IMU’s connections with world terror, but also start to destroy their elements, clusters and arrays by Unit X. On one of his free days, Ali came back much worried and upset. "Where were you?" - Saddyk asked, although he knew very well, Ali visited at Tatyana.

- Saddyk-aka, I was at Tatyana's, everything is bad there, her father is severe ill, he needs to be taken to Moscow, help, please.               
- But why do you concern so much about her father? Maybe, the wench is funcie funsy? Yet she’s not of ours, whadda you need her? Look about, see how many our beauties are around, still, all you all drawn to these Russians.               
- Heart doesn't obey orders, I like her. And there are a lot of them at ours, in Palestine, you know, many our guys studied here in the Union, and then they brought home Russian wives, they live there according to our laws and bear to us children, true faithful believers. And about our beautiful girls… Inshallah, Allah is great, by His grace, I will get to feet - and I will take not just one to marry.               
- Well, if so, let Allah bless you. Besides, you set a good example to both Muslims and infidels. Old people should be reverenced, ill persons should be helped. Okay. I’ll support you with money, go on send your cripple for treatment.

Soon, Moñkej and his wife left for Moscow. In the telegram Tatyana received, it was reported that Mockej is in the hospital, and Zinka got there as a cleaner, so now she can look after him. Actually, Mockej and his wife were transported to Israel, of what not only Sadyk, but also Tatyana, had no tint guess. Not only the “Israeli military militarists”, known to the whole world, can work miracles, no less, if not more famous all over the world, Israeli medicine created another miracle also this time. Mockej started speaking, a specific peculiar device allowed him to pronounce words instead of mooing. Of course, they costed to Mockej a great hards, but now his speech could be understood, and he was finally able to tell who made him disabled and what connections Jhurah had. Through his channels, Sashka also received a message, where he was expressed gratitude and acknowledgment for a valuable witness. The liquidation of Abu Usman Adil, the new head of the IMU through an American drone missile in Pakistan, occurred be possible largely due to data received from an informant Sashka provided.
In April 2012, Usman Ghazi was announced the organization's emir; in October 2014, he stated the merger of the IMU with the Islamic State, ISIS. Hence, the structure of the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan was over, the group oathing ISIS obeyed Hafiz Saeed Khan, the Khorasan “governor” - district chief marshal of the brave-n-courageous isisians. Now, not only Ali, but Saddyk himself was out of work, the enlistment activities were replaced to the Internet and social networks, and Saddyk's ideas propaganda and these ideas themselves revealed to be too liberal and tolerant compared to the methodic and methods practiced by his readers and followers, by ISIS propagandists.
Since the end of 2011, when coalition forces invaded Libya and destroyed the Jamahiriya regime, the domino effect sequenced as a series of colored revolutions in Arab countries, and that helped strengthen and expand ISIS terrorists' affect and actions in the Middle East and beyond. Sashka could not ever imagine that this little-known organization would spread to such a scale and achieve such septic and metastasic popularity on the Muslim ground and milieu.
The process, like it's said, turned pithy and became growthy - as simply as usual, with beautiful words and loud slogans. The United States, accusing Saddam Hussein of concealing chemical weapons and the threat of their use, invaded Iraq. Aggression against a sovereign state, the destruction of the institutions of power and all the others existed in the country, and, as solemn final fanfare, the government head assassination, led to a civil war on religious grounds involving religious motives, the most effective triggers for the average common population of any state. The Sunnis and Shiites war, who somehow more or less survived along each other before the incursion of disinterested devotees of universal human values, democracy, peace and convenient energy prices, did and added its quite an ample bit for ISIS ideological activists and military formations. The war in Libya, where the predominant Sunni majority did not promise dramatic confessional strife, after the state head Gaddafi was dispatched beyond and during the ongoing struggle for political supremacy, brought to power the same “Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant”, still same ISIS, which played the role of a balancer in the  weights swing at tenders, or bargains, between: the National Transitional Council; the remnants of the 'White Guard'ian Libyan Armed Forces; the high-ranks of the newly created Libyan National Army; and others, smaller players, including mercenaries from the surrounding terrains. An analogous situation em-reified in Egypt, where another analogous "bloody dictator Hussein"-Hosni Mubarak was replaced by the "Society of the Muslim Brothers", Muslim Brotherhood, and here we go, the next act and new scene of the same play, on the stage are the same and Assad in Syria, and - who could ever have thought, the threats and yells about chemical weapons, and with magic wand up-beat, ISIS triumphs again.
Yes, Saddyk is right in asserting, the slogan under which this or that revolution is taking place is not at all important, the main thing is the result, the coming to power of the Sunni brotherhood of “true Muslims”. All others, sectarians and apostates, must be destroyed. Aged Saddyk sits, drinks green tea and thinks: “No, I have been on life these years not for empty, my dreams have come true on live. And even if somewhere sometimes some failure was accompanying us, the mere fact there is a symbol and a sign of the Islamic state is my great achievement and accomplishment toward on Allah glory and a sign - the clear proof my doing and deeds are acceptable and pleasing before Him."

Chapter 5

The “Islamic State” is so closed information about it leaks out to the media by meager drops. Well-known are only the terrifying newsreel footage widely broadcasted and illuminated by the isisists themselves. Usually, they demonstrate executions with heads being chopped off, or children fulfilling the apostates shooting, or apostates' children extermination. So what is the "Islamic State"? First of all, it is an organization of Sunnis, a fraternity declaring social equality and strict observance of Sharia law. In places where the Islamic State has established its power, leaflets are hanging everywhere telling about new laws and regulations, one of which is a smile on a face, a person must display he is happy, “smile - or be shot up,” who does not rejoice to the new regime - is traitor of the Islamic revolution, the enemy of Great Allah and the people. A complete ban on the use of alcohol, tobacco smoking, wearing T-shirts with the English text or the women image, in general, whatever image, except for new leaders heading the triumphal procession to the true values; inadmissibility of European hairstyles and clothes, especially for women; a woman has to be concealed so as only her eyes could be visible, she may not be outside the house alone, without a man or an elderly female relative accompany. Symbols of the IS are everywhere, even on the supermarket bags, on all lampposts and on any usage items, like once there were red flags and pentagrams with sickles and hammers in the country of the victory march of socialism towards communism.
In the realmdom run by the IS, there are many Europeans, arrived voluntarily, out of curiosity or of aim to dip into a completely different life, and got fused with the local population. De facto, the “Islamic State” is a military dictatorship, but with a kind of front-showy socially oriented signboard. They have good social welfare, salaries, and allowances for military. The "Islamic State" has health care, education; government institutions function; parliament, ministries, police and Sharia courts present. Albeit all this is called the terms of the Prophet Muhammad times, still, establishments do not much differ from modern agencies. The value of assets controlled by ISIS is $ 2 billion. Al-Qaeda, from whose cell and shell in 2005 IS has spired-speared and sprouted, looks an inessential trinket compared to the golem it generated. The Islamic State budget consists of the oil sale, even at low, almost dumping prices, this is almost $ 2 million per day (in the absence of its own monetary unit, as well as a single economic space, ISIS uses the currencies of several countries and spongerly obstructs commodity and capital exchange between subordinate wilayat and within them, reducing the domestic economy to medieval subsistence farming); in addition, there is a income 10% tax going into the country budget, as well as various-percent taxes practically and virtually on everything in all conceivable and inconceivable areas, from the tax on banking institutions safety to the tax on archaeological sites looting, including 5% tax on fabled social security from all citizens, regardless of age and any other features, and even state tax on personal funds withdrawal from personal bank accounts - in addition to the usual bank duty for a standard transaction; “enemies of the state” are being deprived of all property, if they have nothing suitable for confiscation or simply have no money or no property at all - they turn into a legalized slave state, as was the practice in ancient and early medieval states and in states with developed prison-camp systems for providing free labour and slave force in the militants favor - for the needs of the victoried military protectors and guardians of national goods and desires. Clumped with the solemnly representative public executions, in whole, the outlined picture is a somewhat gloomy sinister the primal-barbaric cave' interior, which and that frightens somebody and attract other.
Such is the life today of some Libya enclaves, when the country has  disintegrated on to the feud apanages, this is a way parts of Iraq and Syria now live, such is the dream of life and living by Islamists-radicals for whom there is no understanding of the concept of “life”, their goal is death - posthumous non-existence, there and only there they are destined for the eternal peace and pleasure, the presence and abundance of essential products, and the absence of the need for eternal struggle and permanent war. Such is the harvest of the god of war Ares' dragon 's sprouted teeth, sown to bring death and destruction, to selves and to all. Grains and stems that do not fit into the ISIS spike and sheaf are forced to break away and flee from their homes, from the land into which the roots of their ancestors, traditions and culture go. They rush from Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, Tunisia, Yemen, Libya, Egypt, Syria and other countries to where armaments do not rattle, houses do not wreck, women do not get raped  and men do not get killed, they run to where is some job, where one can to buy something to eat, where it is possible to wake up not from the machine guns cricking-cracking and not from the bombs explosions, but because the morning come and the sun looks into the window, and the children laugh rejoicing in the new day.
It’s heavily for Sashka to see these torments and sufferings, his fists are clenched, he could just strangle this reptile-toad Saddyk, but he well comprehends, the monster of Islamofascism will not be destroyed with Saddyk's death. Too much has been lost due to manipulations and games with "democracicism" and "liberalicism", too often accusations and self-accusations of excessive and unnecessary cruelty and "inappropriate use of force" have been shouted, with diplomatical bows and diplomatistic curtesy to unprincipled criminals.
But there is also a happy man rapturously welcomes the new authorities and its ruling regulations. It seems Kamal has been transmade, the smile is not wiped off his face, he is joyful and ready to share his joy with akin and like him - with bandits suitable for only one thing: killing with the willingness those who disagree and nonconform. For him, a trip to the front line is the working day start, his productivity is the number of people killed and tortured in a day; the only thing can cause vexation is a case the number of victims today is less than yesterday. At the sight of the next prey, his eyes light up with enthusiasm, like a ill-bred crude thoughtless child seeing a new, yet not broken up toy, or a still-survived not torn apart frog, not destroyed butterfly, or a bird not downed slingshotted. He, in almost voluptuous anticipation, smooths out a thin beard with a carnivorous grin: “Allah said, kill the unfaithful,” which for him is equivalent to the commander's command, “aim-and-fire!”, with no think and a second delay, it is imperative to execute, and here that's all, Kamal is ready to kill, kill, and more kill. He amuses of by Ali’s hesitation and rotten feebleness, the way he looks aside when Kamal humiliates and tortures the captured, and how he shudders from the next-on-turn shot at the next-on-line knelt victim's nape.

- We are the soldiers of Allah, and came to this world to murder thus restore the justice legated for us by the prophet Muhammad, let he find Allah mercy. Åither with us, or against us and so our mortal enemies, either all of humanity will live by to our laws - or we will annihilate humanity, for Allah does not put importance onto the earthly world, as indicated by Muhammad Nasir-d-al-al-Albani, may Allah have mercy on him, in a hadith "Sahih at-Targib wa-t-tarhib". I am also glad because everything uncle Saddyk, may his affairs be please Allah, wrote about in his books, today has become a reality. See, Ali, you are a bad warrior. Nah, bro, don’t take offense, but you gotta heart too kind, you probably are smarter than me, and you know Quran much better, but in our struggle, you are not useful.               
- Still, have you ever reflected, Kamal? Just because of knowing the Quran better than you, I can’t afford killing everyone indiscriminately, like you do. The Quran teaches patience, tolerance and friendliness. Once, a funeral procession passed by Allah's Messenger, may he find favour with Allah, and he stood up before it. Then someone remarked: “Oh, Rasul Allah, this is a Jew being bury!” The Prophet, may him be favoured by Allah, replied: "But is he not a man?". Why don't you understand, for Allah there is nothing more important than a man, and you in your cruelty have become like a bloodthirsty crocodile, and you quite well can be anathematized for that. Mend your thought ways, for Allah sake, great He is.

Never did Ali speak to Kamal like that, and no one ever did. The thought did not home in his head, but a venom spite sat down and lay low in his heart toward a too clever and speechy spotter-pointer upon inconvenient mismatches. Here look at him, the dervish's detected, a blissful preacher.

Chapter 6

The Kamal's cruelties, his cave instinct sensing the absolute impunity and infinity of despotic self-rule arbitrariness, were especially manifested on the Yezidi Kurds. The Kurds, one of the most numerous ethnic groups in the Middle East, have dreamed for centuries to create their own state, Kurdistan, and samely centuries-long, this dream has remained hard-feasible, almost unrealizable. This ethnos is not only sizeable, but also varied, representing a wide range of cultural, linguistic, everyday -being, and confessional phenomena. In total, about 30 million Kurds are in the world, the majority professes Sunni Islam, but there are Shiite Kurds, Alevi (not to be confused with the Alawites), Yezidis, Christians and even Judaic (lakhlukhs). They live mainly in Turkey, Iraq, Syria, Iran; there are Kurds in Armenia, Russia, Kazakhstan, Germany, the USA, Israel and other countries. The Kurdish language is not Arabic, not Semitic at all; Kurmanji (and its dialects) belongs to the abundantly flowering Iranian-Persian branch, although the writing, as in modern Iranian, is Arabic. The systematic extermination of the Yezidis by the devotees subservient the "Great Eternal Kingdom-Reich" - the "Islamic State", personalized in as ISIS, began after the Northern Iraq capture. The campaign with massacres, women abductions with following sale into the brothels, the expulsion of the Yezidi and generally Kurdish population from cities, villages, houses, became known as the "Campaign of forced conversion." During the offensive in Northern Iraq, when Kamal's brigade also participated, ISIS managed to seize the city of Sinjar, where mass executions began, during which more than 60 thousand Yezidis fled to the Shingal mountains, seeking salvation in the sacred heights. The Islamist warriors besieged the fugitives' asylums amid the Neolithic monuments, the besieged, like Masada defenders, were dying from food and water lack.
Today Kamal brought to the camp three young captives: two girls, one looked like about 20-22 years old, the other was just but a teenage of 13-14 years, and a boy of about 6. Kamal radiated sheer full-fed joy, these were sisters and a brother, children of a prominent and respected man among the Yezidis, their house was destroyed, their father, along with several other men, got captured; the elder sister's, Almase', husband was killed. The seized were to be shot down, but Kamal left to himself Almase and Lona and their brother Bado, to convert and edify them on the true faith path. "Today I will sleep with Almase, if she strives to please me, then also tomorrow, and then I sell her. I gonna make Lona true Muslim and marry her, a daisy has already ripe. Seen the boobs got she grown? You, Ali, also could have gotten such a heifer goat, would you came with us, instead of sitting here with your good for nobody books. Yeh sure, I know, you’ll now start your old song, like, Saddyk asked you to teach us what the Prophet Muhammad said, be he pleasing Allah, with his sacred writs, and what is written in Saddyk's books, be he pleasing Allah likewise. But, see, here is an essential difference between what the prophet says in his writings, may Allah's deign be onto him, and what teaches this old fogy, who himself is afraid of his scribbling twaddle, may Allah judge him. And you repeat all this nonsense awholesale. Now tell me, how to understand ayah 4 from surah 47? "And when you meet the infidels on the battlefield - chop their heads." Well, we broke into the house of these infidels, when I just saw Almase, my heart leaped in upsurge, I came to her and grabbed her chest, and her husband threw on me with fists, well, I pushed a spurt, see, a machine-gun is nott fists. What battlefield, what hit-hammering to the neck ... full crap, all nonsense and granny's tales, nobody go fighting with axes or hammers since along, now you go instruct to put Buraq-the horse instead of normal enginery, and fly riding it, and let it emit shells and missiles. Need to write like this: "take everything by right of the strong, and whoever does not agree, kill." Such way we must fight and kill nowadays, and tomorrow I will feature you a show." Kamal stretched, “Got tired today, go sleep,” then he nudged Almase: “Let's move, kiddie-goat, and be tender and nice, or else I dispose you to guys in troop tomorrow. Here's thing more, Ali, Lona and Bado need to be learned Arabic, see, except for their Kurmanji, they no understand a damn thing, and they gotta study the Quran." He shuffled to the house, spurring Almase on with a gunbarrel, also recaptured from some Yezidi, the children sluggishly followed them.
In the morning, on the square, the public execution of captives taken previous day was performed, the ceremony was commanded by Kamal. He solemnly came out with Bado, the kid was attracted the shiny assault rifle on Kamal's neck, and he constantly attempted to reach and clutch on a fancy toy. Then the prisoners were brought out, barefoot, with sacks on their heads, they have been placed facing the duval, the mud-brick fence. Kamal took aim, then picked the boy up and showed which hook pawl should be pressed, the shooting line clattered out, and people fell dead. The boy laughed, he was joyful, and he liked the game raised by adults, among the funnily tumbled were his father and uncle.
Ali stood aside, clenching his fists. With entire delight he would right now tear this sadist's head off, but what could he do... except if save Lona and Bado. Must try to steal the children out and escape.

Chapter 7

For the third day, Ali has been wandering around the militants' camp, as if a restless ghost. The execution, where the father and uncle died by the little hands of the babish-silly bantling-gosling Bado, the sale of Almase by glutted Kamal to some transit merchant for five hundred dollars, - all this infuriated him. But what could he do, alone, among enemies who, in their permissiveness and lawlessness, became like beasts. Meanwhile, he has taken up teaching and thus partially venting his steams off. Every day, Lona and Bado came to him to learn Arabic, and Bado grasped faster than Lona, who hated this language, the language of murderers and rapists. Kamal with his squad more and more often went to the mountains, where he killed the disobedient Yezidis, burned and ruined their homes, and upon returning he brought young maidens and boys to the camp. All elderly women and all men he used to slay on the spot. As a result, Ali accrued a whole class for studying Arabic, together with Lona and Bado there eight pupils enrolled. Fifteen-year-old girl Jiman was the oldest, Ali saw how lustily Kamal was looking at her, how lecherous he fumbled by eyes her fresh well-formed body, he would have dragged the gal to bed long ago. But he got bored of violence, he is full up with it till throat, he wants tenderness and affection of girl’s hands, and Jiman does not understand him, she just babbles her idiotic gibberish. Kamal disports mocking Ali, calling him a nanny: “You miss only female dress and salwar, go put on and flock-care your chickens, you clocking hen. You are a coward, Ali. A milk-toast and a milksop. Just how did you war with the Israelis... I bet you were saving your hide in some school, being covered behind the children, cause Jews do not bomb children, eh, Ali?"
Ali is silent, what the use of responding to the evil attacks of the bastard, who is full of complexes and afraid of real thoughts and deeds, who is proud and self-righteous facing defenseless, who is bold and brave while holding an automatic gun, with one who takes politeness for weakness, and rudeness and impudence - for strength. Alex's mind is engaged by a scheming to rescue children from this place, the cruel and meaningless hell.
Meanwhile, the civil war in Syria entered a new stage, now the hated Assad was joined by Russians pursuing their own interests in this region. Russian aircraft immediately shifted the scales against the opposition and, therefore, against ISIS. The most successful of the rebel groups was Jabhat al-Nusra, the "Victory Front", literally "Front of the Supporters", which emerged as a detachment, a kind of Syrian branch al-Qaeda, under Abu Mohammad al-Julani command. What is happening in Syria can be said to be directly related to Middle Asia, since practically the Foreign Central Asian Legion fought on the ISIS side in the civil war. Among the approximately 1,000 Central Asian militants, the most - about a half - were Tajiks, in presence of virtually all region's ethnic groups and republics; there were also Landsknechts from the Russian Federation, and only where from not. Initially, al-Nusra and ISIS advances were explainable, the United States, Turkey and other NATO countries provided wide support to Assad's opponents. But both Russians, Assad, either Americans and their allies fought against ISIS, and what is ISIS? Territories captured by Sunnis-extremists, or territories where President Assad is hated? Or is it Kurds, long requiring autonomy? It’s hard to understand the chaos of war amid the chaos of war, and yesterday’s allies could become enemies today. The Russians get it easier, their main goal is to save President Assad, all who are against the current official head are opposition and rioters-insurgents, and hence, ISIS among them. Meantime the United States and its allies, as if entangled within three pines, still cannot understand who is who, so much the more paramilitary groups constantly change their names and slogans, some against the overweening president, others for autonomy, still others against the oppression of the Sunni majority by Alawite sectarians, but all for Allah.
Here it would not be bad to turn to the holy book of the Quran: “Say: We believe in Allah and in what was sent to Abraham, Ismail, Isaac, Jacob and their descendants, in what was bestowed to Moses and Jesus and provided to the prophets by the Lord of theirs. We conduct no distinction between them and we commit to Him." (2: 136). Maybe then the Shiites of the Hezbollah group and Shariah Supporters from ISIS could concord, and the IS Sunnis and the Kurdish Sunnis would stop shooting at each other, and the Alawites, Yezidis and other actually co-religionists would cease to be passed as heretics and sectaries, and blood would not be shed, and there would be fewer explosions and tears. Humanity, all people, every person are representatives of a certain religion or faith, even without being a parishioner, without even regularly attending a church, mosque or synagogue, or party meeting. Everybody, one way or another, have being brought up and fed-nursed with certain standards, thinking and behaving models. Woe to man, woe to mankind, if these laws and commandments are violated and stepped over, then man feels guilty and becomes this feeling's quarry, then he is easily vulnerable, and awareness, the mere under-perceiving and sub-apperceiving, subconscious sensing of a sin being committing or already committed itself becomes the hardest possible punishment, and it in itself is doing the whole punitive mission, in addition to earthly penalties or despite worldly approval or self-deception.
The denouement juncture came unexpectedly. Heavy fighting in Syria required reinforcements supplies, most of Kamal’s detachment transferred at another field commander's disposal, and Kamal himself and six of his selected fighters had to wait for the enlist refill, which was raising and procuring by Saddyk engaged in Tatarstan. Ali, meanwhile, managed to establish relations with a merchant promised to take the children to the location of the Yezidi Kurds for the promised solid pay, but flatly refused to enter into an armed conflict with Kamal's cutthroats, so this job remained for Ali. All the children were kept in a separate place where they were constantly guarded, Ali had to remove the warders, block the other fighters' outs, and deliver the children to the merchant’s car. Herewith, it was crucial to observe the maximum noiselessness, since the IS squads were nearby.
Ali realized unforeseen circumstances might arise, he needed an aide, but where could he get one... and he ventured, though the presumptive assistant was only fifteen, but Ali did not see another choice. At one of the classes, he told Jiman what to do and where to go if they feel threatened by Kamal and his bandits, and also informed the day and time of their will-be escape. Ali was not very strong in Persian, but by the girl’s eyes expression and her nods, he was assured she comprehended everything. In the morning of the appointed day, Ali received the message the merchant's ready and would wait for the children at night. Having blocked the door to the room where the militants were resting, Ali wrung the guard's neck and entered the chamber. The children were already prepared for the road, but Jiman was not in. It turns out, in the evening Kamal came and took her. Alex assigned Lona to walk the children away off house and wait for him, then he went to Kamal's. Bursting into the room, he saw Jiman, nude and quietly crying, and Kamal snoring beside. From his whispered exclamation, "Get dressed!", Kamal woke up.

- What do you seek here? This is now my woman.               
- Your woman? You are a rapist and a murderer!

Ali stepped to Kamal and hit him on the neck with his palm edge. The blow strength made Kamal wheeze and foam appeared on his lips. Grabbing the girl's hand, Ali rushed to the door, but suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, looking around he saw Kamal with a knife in his hand, backing to the wall where the machine rifle stood. There was no time left. In a high jump, Alex struck with two legs, with his left leg crushing in the nose bridge, and his right in the neck. The vertebrae cracked and crunched, foam appeared on the lips, now bloody, and then blood gushed out of the throat. Kamal fell to the floor, shaking and rattling in fore-death agony. Picking up an assault rifle and hauling Jiman along, a former Technion student leaped off the room.
The noise woke the fighters in the next room, and now they were trying to knock out the closed and barricaded door. They succeeded. In the corridor, they came across automatic-gun fire, two immediately fell dead, and two dropped flat shooting back, but Ali withstood this fight, in his group, he was the first in shooting not without reason. Finished with the bandits, he hurried to the children. Flocked into a handful of frightened chicks, the fugitives were hiding behind a large boulder, Jiman instantly found her brother and set to calm him down. When the party approached the car, the merchant, already nervously anxious and almost in an agitated panic, shouted to the driver "Go run!". Having loaded his priceless load, Ali jumped in, and the car rushed off. Only in the morning the camp havoc was revealed, IS warriors streamed in quest, but the escapees were already far away, and soon happened into the Yezidis position. The kids told how fearless Ali saved them, men clicked their tongues with admiration, women cried, then washed Ali’s wound and applied some ointments, carefully bandaging his shoulder.

Chapter 8

Mockej, after several months of treatment in Israel, became unrecognizable. From a “vegetable”, helplessly waving hands' stumps, unable to see, speak, move, he gradually and as on as more turned into a resemble human creature. Now he could speak, and Zina devoted hours to conversations with her husband returning from un-being; the doctors forced him to walk to strengthen his legs bones and muscles, and today he was first put on bio-prostheses for his hands' lifeless remnants, and, using the sensors implanted in the stump, could make the mechanical hands to take glass or spoon and bring to his mouth with the help of thought, or rather, with the directed brain neural signals' help. Of course, not all was achievable at once, but the doc said everything gotta be learned like anew, what and how to, Mockej just need his time, and sure, he would come a completely normal guy. Dina visited him, Mockej was talking about something with Zinka, but suddenly stopped short, due to blindness, his hearing and sense of smell became more acute, he felt her and, turning around, loudly spelled her name. She flew to him: "Sergey dear, what did they do to you, these fiends!"
Then there was a sea of dews, Mockej cried, Dina wept, Zina was flooding in tears, wailing and sobbing heart outed. While Dina told how Sashka was dying, while Zina told how lamed and crippled Mockej got back, what the life was on here and there. Tears dried up only when Dina told about Zheka's last minutes, how she took revenge on him and herself destroyed this scum. After, Dina exhibited Zinka photographs of her family, told about her daughter and grandchildren, and when she showed her son picture, Zinka exclaimed and clutched her head:

- But this is Ali, he saved my daughter and took her out of Turkey!               
- What Ali, who is it? This is my son Sashka, he is a programmer, though, often on business trips.

Here Mockej interfered: “Don’t be angry with him, Dina, this is indeed your son Sashka, and Zinka knows him as Ali, an Arab from Palestine. He told me everything, his work is such, difficult, risky, but he is your son, yours and Sasha's." Now Mockej, tensely and shoving forth every syllable, spoke of how Sashka, working in a secret international organization, had infiltrated the terrorists gang, and his main task was to delete this gang, and how these bandits framed his daughter Tanya, and the upmost big chief there was Saddyk, and Sashka vowed he would not calm until Saddyk was terminated.
So it ascertained who Ali was, only neither Dina, nor Mockej, nor Tatyana knew where he was now. The plague of Islamic terrorism has firmly spread roots all over the world, and now neither in Europe, nor in America, nor in Russia, or, say, in China, could anyone sleep, live and even breathe easy, and anywhere and at any time Sashka and his colleagues could be needed and turned up. Indeed, at any moment a terrorist could receive his amir's order - and then explosions, shooting and blood, blood, blood; and the struggle against all this - Sashka's and his colleagues' work duties. The Quran says, if you killed a person, it’s the same as you killed the whole world, hereby, how many times did the terrorist-killers and suicide mass murderers have this world ended, and how more victims are needed for this molokh, a monster named Islamic fascism...

Chapter 9

Tatyana graduated from the institute and successfully defended her diploma; several organizations simultaneously sent their applications for a specialist with knowledge of Hebrew. Several travel agencies invited her for an interview, a relatively tranquil republic invited tourists from all the globe to admire the beauties of Bukhara, Samarkand and Khiva, and Israel was no exception. President Karimov reduced the country to order with an iron hand, there was no place for ethnic, national and religious strife, and Saddyk found himself feeling not at ease and off cozy. Besides, the influx of young and strong guys ready to join the ranks of stormtroopers for the mythical "eternal great caliphate" sake and in the name of has noticeably decreased here, and therefore Saddyk decided to move to Tatarstan, where the "Islamic Liberation Party", Hizb ut-Tahrir al-Islami, was successfully effecting, enthusiastically supporting the destructionist construction of the Islamic caliphate structure and enthusiastically supporting ISIS.
The misfortune with quite many states is that they do not quite straight off notice negative tendencies, and, like organisms with a suppressed self-defense system, they exercise quite a sluggish reaction to the malignant and pathological phenomena and processes' emersion and course. Particularly, the manifestations of aggression and terror by Islamic parties and organizations have long been ignored by the appropriate law enforcement and other legal institutions. Rather contrary, some of their slogans mimic the 'world-understanding' and the declaratory “geopolitical” superficial perception of these states dominant elites, as contributing to theirs, with all so-called “world community”, development and prosperity. There is still no unified understanding of even the very concept of “terrorism” and its clear definition, and while some organization is declared terrorist in one country, it can be accepted as a “liberationist” or “for democratic transforms” in another. And till this condition persists, a wide activity field of and for various terrorist and bandit formations and formants is open. Exactly this is what radical Islam propagandists make use of, it is on this soil a “World Islamic Caliphate” idea blossoms and strengths, altogether with ideology, theory and practice. So it was in Europe, where, guided by the principles of democraticism and multiculture, there was an inspired aspiration to remelt the new arrivals from the Middle East and nearby countries and make them not only equi-fledged, but also equi-valuable socium members, so it was in America and in Russia. But the new arrivals did not want to become Germans, Belgians, French or English, they reminded them, these Germans, French, British and Americans of their oppression, when their countries were colonies, they rememberated to the Americans their miserable existence as slaves, they reproached them all for their skin color, for their religion, for the fact, of course, due to the whites fault, they are poorly educated in Western sciences and arts, for the merciless exploitation of their fathers and grandfathers, and so on till no ending. Today they have come to those who yesterday oppressed them having their land conquered, and their main slogan is "We demand!" And - "You owe us. Give us everything. And if you do not agree - we will kill you, we will keep you in fear, because we are a brotherhood, and we are everywhere. And we will subdue everything and everyone to us, and we will get all under our rules."
Hundreds of thousands of refugees have flooded Europe, among them not only Syrians, here are Pakistanis, Libyans, Kenyans, Ugandans, Afghans, Yemenis and others searching to get a plenty tasty feeding, a curly pretty living, and a freedom off work. Have all of them been driven out of their homes by war? Far off. Most hurled up for a heaty pottage, bringing on their customs into other's house; and now Europe, with its pity-leaders and tolerantist streamer s and billboards, stands with its mouth open and does not know what to do with this spate of refugees; America, carrying "universal all-humankind and democratic" values with fire and sword to countries that live "in the Middle Ages" - in terms of American ruling concepts and values, is not able to not only realize, but also to take thought about the happened and done; Russia, delivering militants from Chechnya and Dagestan, Tatarstan and Middle Asia. Sooner or later, they will back to theirs, being well-fed, well-set up, and will tell the rest, who stayed home today: “Welcome to our convenient places, everything is ready for you, we have achieved it. The mosques are built, and they, those of there, walk in hijabs and jalabiyas, not defiling the righteous eyes and looks, and fear to wear short skirts, there is no pork, and the muezzin calls for morning prayer every morning. And many converted to Islam, some because of new-fangled elite-salon quirks, some became believers, some disappointed in former values, realizing those values failure, some in defiance of their parents, tending to show their infantile and undergrowth "maturity". We don't care, we do take care there are more and more of us, and the neophytes will be the first to stand up for us on the barricades, and even more fervent and more devoted than all; they will, with even more ardent and zealous than their demagogues-politicians, defend our mosques and bazaars in the midst of their once western cities and hold up for the ban on the sale of goods that are objectionable to us, and the use of things that are inappropriate for us."
Unfortunately, not only the good and the rational sown grow and bloom on this planet, and each sower considers and decides by himself what is for-ever and forever true, and "-isms" multiply, and blood spills. The grain, once scattered by Saddyk and those like him, sprouted a rich harvest. The seedlings of dragon's teeth are lushly earing and waving, exuberantly releasing up new growths at all intersections and paths. All his life he called on Muslims to kill the kafarah-the kafirs, infidels and rejectors-heretics, and today he is reaping his activities benefits. Terrorist attacks in the North Caucasus, in the USA, Germany, Belgium, France, Turkey, and how much blood in Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya and Yemen; they fight fight against dictators, rulers, against infringement of workers' rights, against discrimination based on nationality, against infringement of religion, against humiliation because of skin color, for the right to secession, against separatism, for the triumph of the new system, against innovation, for justice, for a brighter future, for oil prices, for some great values, one's own for each, for peace in the world; they war simply because the generation grew up in conditions of war and didn’t see anything else, because for some, war is the natural and only possible state and existence in being, no matter where and when the growth of a particular warring individual took place, if there wasn’t a real war - such an individual would have fought in everyday life, school and at home... These people know or can nothing else, and do not want anything else. Oh, the Great and Almighty, will not you enlighten your children, will you doom humanity to the darkness of medieval strifings, discords and slaughters?
This night, Jhurah visited Saddyk again. No sooner a dimmed bleary dream covered him with a dark pall, the uncalled guest, as if waited for the sleeping man behind the veil, was already there, meeting the sleeper with a steadfast gaze, reproaching him for grave sins: "Religion is sincerity," - Muhammad repeated thrice, may Allah being pleased with him, - "Sincerity before Allah and the Muslims. And you have lived in sin all your life and deluded people". “Take off your turban,” - Jhurah suddenly requested, and Saddyk obeyed, baring his shaved skull, - "Here, you see. Abu 'Isa Muhammad ibn 'Isa as-Sulami ad-Daryr al-Bug'hy at-Tirmidhy, Imam al-Termezi, let Allah be merciful on him, passed the hadith, which says that Muhammad, may Allah be merciful to him, cursed those who shave their heads. You are a reprobate impious sinner and damned by Allah. You were proud all your life for you elevated suicide to the rank of shahidism, but just, suicide is a great sin, and once Allah, the Great He is, said about suicider: "My slave got ahead of me, he dared to undertake My action and to make My decision, over Me, and I deprive his ability to enter Paradise." This is what Ibn Hajar al-Askaliani teaches, may Allah have mercy on him, in the commentary on "Fath al-Bari" to sahih by Muhammad al-Bukhari, may Allah be merciful to him. Just look what your lousy booklets books have done! Blood rivers flow, and already brother goes on brother. The Messenger of Allah said: "Let none of you raise weapons on your brother, because Satan can sit on his hand, and then he will fall into the pit with fire." This is stated in "Al Minhaj bi Sharh Sahih Muslim", the commentary by Abu Zakariyya Yahya ibn Sharaf al-Nawawi, may he please Allah''s eye, to the hadith by Muslim ibn al-Hajjaj."
"False!" - Saddyk could not stand, - "We are fighting against sectarians, they are not true Muslims!"                Jhurah glanced with sorrow: "Abu Hurairah reports that the prophet, may he be glorious in the eyes of Allah, said: "If someone raises a sword at his brother, then the angels will curse him until he lowers it, even if it is a half-brother on the paternal or maternal side." Before step out, Jhurah said he will be stepped haunting Saddyk until his death, and Allah will burn his dastardly petty soul. Saddyk intended to retort, but he heard loud blows, still unwoken, he got aware, that's for him. Yes, it was the special forces breaching doors. They will get not just him, they will take everyone who helps him today, they will clutch them with weapons and ammunition, with the literature he brought over, with drugs used to envenom the conscious and will of those who, “voluntarily and being in sound mind”, confessed themselves martyrs-shahids and enrolled as the "Islamic State"' militants. There left not much time, Saddyk definitely did not wish to prison, he threw the unfold turban over the beam under the ceiling, then reeled a loop, threaded his neck through, and pushed his legs off the bed. Upon burst in, special service mens found a wiggle- wobbling body. Saddyk committed suicide, thus, he left his life in sin, like as he has his life spent.
In the morn, Sashka came to know the operation to apprehend the leaders of the pan-Islamist organization "Islamic Party of Liberation" was successful and lossless, only one old man from "Hizb ut-Tahrir" topheads managed to hang himself. Sashka, who has transferred information through the embassy to the Russian authorities about the political terrorists heads' whereabouts, understood it was Saddyk. Another killers and thugs cell ceased to exist. And how many are still dispersed on the Earth ground...

Chapter 10

They stood side by side at the Tashkent airport, waiting for a plane from Moscow. Alexander cuddled Tatiana’s subtle shoulders, and she kept glancing at him every now and again. Finally, it' was announced the aircraft landed, and they turned to the ladder. Mockej and Zinka appeared on the stairway, he clamped a white cane firmly with his biomechanical hand, and black sunglasses were put on his lifeless eye sockets, Mockej quite confidently footed on the gangplank steps, got supported by youthened Zinka. Tatyana ran to meet her parents, then long kissed and hugged them. Sashka also came up, hugging Mockej, he whispered something in his ear. “I know, sonny, I know everything, thank you, thank you for all, if it weren’t for you...” - Mockej’s voice trembled, - “And huge thanks to your mother for revenge. Now let's go to ours with us, I have a lot to tell you.”
The first thing Mockej said upon entering the house was: he doesn't need his wheelchair, he needs to leg a lot and train his muscles; besides, his biomechanical prosthetic arms are not yet fully mastered, and he wants to achieve perfection and complete controlled management. The women went off to another room, Zinka, companied by her dauther, began to unpack the suitcases and view the gifts, while Sashka and Mockej told each other what happened, and Mockej addressed to Sasha no other than a “sonny.”

- A pity this stinky mongrel Saddyk did not face trial, well, never mind, the other judging court will be much direr.               
- There he will meet his friend Zheka and Kamal.               
- Who is Kamal?
- Kamal? O, this is the hellspawn. He alone worth both Saddyk and Jhurah put together. By the way, I recently found out Kamal is Jhurah's-Zheka's son, this is how life goes, evil gives rise only to evil, multiplied tens.
- You know, sonny, I’m not an angel either, I traded dope, pressed the Gorbachev era enterprisers, dreamed to make a lot of money, easy money, but your mother saved me. Yes, yes, Dina and my love for her, because I fell in love with her then, but I knew that she loves your father ... maybe that’s why I didn’t want to cooperate with Saddyk, maybe that’s why I promised Zheka-traitor to kill him, if he does not unveil the truth about his betrayal. You see, some sage said once, the love will save the world, and I believe it will be so, sooner or later only those who love will stay in the whole world.

Sasha did not want to foot into argues, too much this old man had rubbed through, too heavy way he attained his philosophy of the existence and rethinking of being. Then they dined and drank wine brought from Israel. For dessert, Tatiana brought a guitar and sang about a little paper boat and a sunlighty bunny, and Sashka looked at her cheeks' dimples as she smiled, at her blondish hair, and he cognized: the love and the namely love, not advertising beautiness, and not fashionably glamorous prettiness, but the very love will save this world. Only when this time will be on, a time of love and respect for each other? In the data Sashka received, a new evil figured. The ideological and practical danger emanating from "Hizb ut-Tahrir al-Islami", the so-called "Islamic Liberation Party", is in many cases more serious than the propaganda of "Hamas", the so-called "Islamic Resistance Movement". The Salafi sect "Hizb ut-Tahrir", created back in the 50s of the last century, proclaims its main purpose the destruction of Israel and, then, the creation of an Islamic caliphate, a theocratic state based on Sharia, all over the world. The widespread and broadcasted propaganda of "Hizb ut-Tahrir" ideas contributed to the ISIS creation. Today, a political and terrorist party uniting almost a million of its supporters, led by Palestinian Ata Abu Rashta (Sheikh Abu Yasin Ata ibn Khalil ibn Ahmad ibn Abdul Qadir al-Khatib Abu Rashta) operates in Israel, and not simply in Israel, but in East Jerusalem. The arrest of some its leaders on Russia territory made it possible to gain some additional records, and thence, Sashka was to fly to Israel.

Epilogue

Again they stood at the airport, now it was Sasha's depart, and Tanya escorted him, she did not cry, but tears were in her blue eyes:

- Please, understand me, I may not and cannot stay, there is still so much malign in the world, and someone must deal with it.               
- But you have already done this many times! And is it possible to eliminate all viciousness on earth?

Sashka was well aware, to terminate all evil on earth, of course, is far impossible. But if only one person killing leads to the whole world annihilation, then at least one person salving saves this world. He chose the path of araise, and those trying to erase this world fated themselves onto the rut to nowhere. On all un-different and un-variant forks, by all roundabout paths, this and such a route invariably and inevitably ways to nowhere and none. Our realm is a large mirror where our beingness is reflected, it can reflect the sky azure and green fields, in other case, it shows the dirty puddles, potholes and ruined buildings. This magic glass' reply feedback depends only on us, only person by self decides which strand ply is prepared and awaits him or her at the end. They parted, and none of them knew whether they would meet again. It would be like to believe that yes, but life is an unpredictable piece, and no one on earth can say for sure, what will be tomorrow in the mirror of world life: the triumph of harmony and love for one's neighbor, or dirt and bloody carnage.

V.A. Gaisinsky. 16.10.2016. Haifa.