Europa Conspiracy (Babylon Rising 3) (24 page)

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All of a sudden there was a tremendous flash and an explosion on the south side of the bridge. Gerber could see smoke rise up on the other side of the tower.

Then he saw the tall thin Arab-looking man take off running.

What the...!

Instantly it all fell into place.
He must be part of the terrorist group.

Gerber turned off the motor and jumped out of his car, in pursuit of the terrorist. Soon the distance between the two men had lessened.

Fadil had no idea that he was being pursued. He had only one thought in mind: to get as far away as he could, as fast as he could.

Fadil didn't hear Gerber until only a few feet separated the men, and by then it was too late. Gerber had leaped into the air in a flying tackle.

Other commuters who had heard the same radio announcement had also put two and two together as they watched one man chasing another. Several climbed out of their cars and followed. No longer would people sit idly by as America was destroyed.

Gerber grabbed Fadil around the waist, and they fell to the ground. Fadil fought like a madman, biting, scratching, and kicking. By then a burly taxi driver had come to Gerber's aid. Soon other men joined in to subdue Fadil, who was screaming in Arabic.

A bridge security team had made it to the south side of the Manhattan tower. Dressed in black SWAT uniforms,

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they looked ominous. They had keys to the elevator room.

Sharif was unzipping the bag containing the detonators when he heard some noise at the door. He stopped and reached for his automatic.

He had just gotten the gun in his hand when the first SWAT officer entered. Sharif swung his arm upward and fired three quick shots. The first bullet hit the officer in the chest, the force knocking him down. The other two shots drove into the wall behind the officer.

The second SWAT man fired five shots into Sharif. Somehow the terrorist lived for almost three minutes before he finally died.

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FORTY-FIVE

THE TRAFFIC ON the lower level of the George Washington Bridge was moving very slowly. Sometimes it stopped completely for up to two minutes.

Najjar was getting very anxious. He was still a good two hundred feet from the center of the bridge. He knew that he needed to be directly under Asim on the upper level for the most powerful effect. He wanted to do it right. This was to be his mark in life. He would be remembered for this day.

Move! Move, you filthy Americans! We have history to make today.

Since the age of eight, he had been taught that giving his life for jihad was the most honorable thing he could possibly do. His parents told him that he would one day make them proud by giving his life for his people. He did not fear death; rather he looked forward to it. He could hardly wait for his reward. In a few minutes he would be in paradise.

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Buck Wilson had been driving eighteen-wheelers cross-country for over twenty years. He had driven his semi-truck in all kinds of weather and through most of the large towns in the United States. He preferred the open road to city traffic. However, he knew better than to get mad during rush-hour traffic. There was no point. Or maybe he didn't really care because it gave him a chance to listen to his favorite country and western music.

I can usually put up with a lot of traffic, but this is ridiculous
, Wilson thought.
There must be some major accident on the Washington Heights side of the bridge.

He began turning the channels of his XM Satellite Radio looking for a New York traffic report. As he did so, he heard a late-breaking news update. "A terrorist alert has been posted for the George Washington Bridge. FBI agents have informed us that they are looking for two Rapid U-Haul trucks. One of the license plates is JRZ738, and the other one is KLM211. The Rapid U-Haul trucks are yellow in color and have a large blue arrow on them with bright red lettering. If you see a vehicle that matches this description on or around the George Washington Bridge, please inform authorities."

Those lily-livered cowards! They only attack innocent women and children!
Wilson was looking at the stalled traffic ahead when he spotted a yellow truck.
Could it be one of the trucks the FBI was searching for?

All lanes of traffic were stopped. Wilson couldn't contain his anger. He left the motor of his truck running, put

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on the emergency brake, and climbed out. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he couldn't just sit there.

He walked in between the stopped vehicles toward the yellow truck, which was two cars ahead. His heart raced as he glanced at the license plate. He could read all but the last two numbers which were covered by mud.

KLM2 ...
.
That's one of them!

He could see the driver of the truck looking at him in the rearview mirror. He would be suspicious and ready for him. Wilson continued to stroll by the truck, not even glancing at the driver. He walked two cars ahead and then stopped. He pretended that he was trying to see what was causing the holdup. Then he threw his arms up in disgust and tapped on the window of the car next to him. The driver rolled down the window, and they talked briefly. Wilson was hoping that the driver of the yellow truck would think that he was just an angry motorist who was frustrated with the slow traffic.

Then Wilson turned and walked back toward the yellow truck, shaking his head. When he got even with the truck, he stopped and knocked on the door. Najjar rolled down the window.

Wilson spoke in a soft voice. "What do you think is holding up the traffic?"

Najjar couldn't really hear because of the noise of all the engines around them. "What?"

Wilson casually stepped up on the running board of the truck. "I said, what do you think is holding up the traffic?" Then Wilson reached into the truck and wrapped an arm around Najjar's neck. He squeezed tightly, lifting and pulling at the same time. Wilson was

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so strong that he began to pull Najjar out of the truck through the open window. It happened so quickly that the terrorist had no time to reach for the gun that was beside him or the detonator on the passenger seat.

Once Wilson had dragged him out of the truck, Najjar tried to reach for a .32 automatic strapped to his leg. Wilson saw the move and hit him in the jaw. The staggering blow shattered Najjar's jawbone.

Murphy was close to the bridge when the traffic finally came to a complete standstill. At almost the same time he heard the radio announcement describing the yellow trucks and giving license numbers.
What if the trucks are already on the bridge? I can't just sit and wait for an explosion!

Murphy got out of the rental car and started to jog toward the bridge alongside the roadway. It took him about two minutes to reach the bridge entrance. He began to jog across the upper level looking across the traffic for a yellow truck. He had mixed emotions as he ran. On one hand, he hoped that the trucks were not on the bridge. Maybe it would only be a false alarm. On the other hand, if the trucks were on the bridge, he was praying that God would give him the strength and wisdom to stop the attack.

When Murphy neared the center point, he could see a yellow Rapid U-Haul truck stopped on the other side of the bridge, its hood up. He began to weave his way through the stopped cars until he reached the center divider.

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No one was in the truck. Someone was looking into the engine compartment, talking on a cell phone.

Murphy climbed over the center divider and wove between the vehicles toward the truck. He could sense people watching his movements. Probably they'd think that he was some driver who had gotten out of his car and was acting irrationally.

Murphy was about two cars away from the Rapid U-Haul when the maintenance workers' vehicle exploded. The shock of the blast caused him to stagger and brace himself between two cars. He looked to his left as a huge ball of fire lifted into the sky followed by a cloud of black smoke. The noise was deafening.

Asim was standing in front of his truck when the blast went off. It took him by surprise. He ran to the edge of the bridge and looked down. Something had gone wrong! He knew that now he couldn't wait for Najjar to get directly under him on the lower level. He would have to hope that he was close enough for the blasts of both trucks to rip the cables and bridge apart.

Asim had just pulled the detonator out of his pocket when Murphy hit him. The detonator slid partway under the car just ahead of the truck.

Asim staggered backward and stopped at the bridge railing. He focused and looked at his adversary He was not about to let some American infidel stop his mission. It was now life and death. He had to get to the detonator ... but first he had to eliminate Murphy

Asim reached for his switchblade and flipped it open, the sharp blade glittering in the sunlight. People in nearby cars sat wide-eyed as Murphy and Asim began to

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circle in front of the truck, Murphy dodging Asim's slicing motions.

At one point Asim lunged straight toward Murphy's stomach with the knife. Murphy reacted with a downward block on the terrorist's arm and grabbed his wrist with the same motion and pulled him forward. He stepped to the side, and Asim's knife and hand jammed into the side of a silver Mercedes.

Now it would just be hand to hand. Asim jumped into the air with a double kick that caught Murphy in the chest and knocked him back toward the guardrail. He was trying to regain his breath when Asim hit him in the face and spun him around.

Pull it together! Breathe!
...
Think!
Murphy told himself angrily

Asim was charging in for the kill. At the last second Murphy dropped to one knee and leaned in toward his attacker. Asim's momentum carried him forward, and he tripped over Murphy's body and crashed into the car ahead, giving Murphy a chance to breathe deeply.

Asim charged again with his head down and his arms outstretched. Murphy jumped up slightly and wrapped his right arm around Asim's neck, then shot both his feet off the ground and dropped straight down with his full body weight on the back of Asim's head. The terrorist did a direct face plant into the asphalt with Murphy on top of him.

It was all over.

Murphy got up and reached under the car ahead for the detonator. Then he tossed it off the bridge into the Hudson River two hundred feet below.

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Carla Martin had looked out her side window, two lanes over. She had seen Murphy just as he hit Asim the first time. She had witnessed the entire battle and was horrified. Then she saw the police coming.

It's about time! Grown men are so stupid to get into fights over getting stuck in traffic. I hope that they both get arrested.

She smiled to herself and put in another CD.

It was only moments before the SWAT team arrived. Murphy was handcuffed along with Asim while the police tried to sort out what had happened. They questioned the witnesses in the cars and took Murphy down to headquarters to find out what role he had played in the aborted attack. By 3:30 P.M. everything was sorted out and Murphy was set free.

Murphy was bruised, physically exhausted, and emotionally drained. But he thanked God that the terrorists' plan hadn't succeeded.

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FORTY-SIX

The night of the attack, Babylon, 539 B.C.

CAPTAIN HAKEEM was nearly out of breath as he ran up to General Azzam's tent. The guard stopped him from entering. General Azzam emerged and acknowledged the captain.

"Sir, I have news from General Jawhar. They'll break through to the river in about fifteen minutes. He asked me to let you know that it's time to prepare the archers. The water will soon be running into the marsh. Within another hour the moat should be drained enough for the men to wade under the wall."

General Azzam nodded and smiled.

It was close to one-thirty in the morning when Daniel climbed up the stairs leading to the great hall. He was walking as fast as his age would allow. He was surprised to not hear music playing. He was even more shocked to not see drunken men and women all around the outer court. Something was different about this banquet.

As Daniel entered the great hall, he saw the king sitting on
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the floor surrounded by guards and personal aides. Everyone looked terrified, as if they had seen a ghost

"Are you the one they call the old Hebrew
--
Daniel?" the king said in a frightened voice. "My grandmother says that you have the spirit of the gods with you. She says that you are filled with enlightenment and wisdom."

"Yes, I am Daniel."

"Look over there! See what is written on the wall! I have called for my wise men and astrologers. I asked them what it meant. They cannot read what it says."

Daniel looked at the wall. He could see the words etched in the plaster: