The Mark of the Rebel Read online

  The Mark of the Rebel

  By

  BK THOMAS

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to freedom fighters everywhere.

  To the brave men and women who make up the grassroots efforts on the streets to those on the front lines across the world fighting against evil disguised as religion or political demigods.

  Thank you for your sacrifices and may Freedom Rise!

  “I prefer dangerous FREEDOM over peaceful slavery.” – Thomas Jefferson

  Acknowledgments

  A special thank you to my family that puts up with me while I bury my head in my computer and hammer away at these stories!

  Thank you, Dave Johnson, for providing the idea for this book. The idea sprouted and grew into a full-blown story and keeps going.

  Another huge thanks to Jim Welke for providing great feedback.

  Thank you, the reader, for going on the adventure found in this book, enjoy!

  The Mark Of The Rebel Copyright © 2019 BK Thomas

  Published by The BK Thomas Group

  [email protected]

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Published in the United States of America

  Paperback ISBN 978-0-9854442-8-0

  Contents

  The Mark of the Rebel

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  The Mark of the Rebel

  Damascus, Syria

  Today Kalah’s face is brighter than it has been in years. The civil war has made it hard for most people to smile. Even for a little girl, the days are hard in a place like this. She turns ten years old this year. The war has caused her to grow up faster than she should. She grows more serious each year. Her mother died in the first few years of the war. Her father joined the fighting when it roared close to home. She and her sister are caught up in the riptide of the revolution.

  Chaos has swirled around her and eroded her smile. She does not scowl but carries a serious look for a girl her age. This new expression replaces her once carefree smile and bright eyes. There is so much she doesn’t understand about the world around her, but her father told her she can help make everything better today. She wants to help, so she will happily do her part.

  Kalah is a pretty girl that loves pastries. She doesn’t like chocolate as much as the pastry sweets. She does not get to have many desserts anymore since the little money they have is spent on surviving each day because of the war.

  She did find some money one day when soldiers from the cause visited her father. She was cleaning up after the soldiers had left their house when she found enough change to buy herself and her sister a pastry. She doesn’t tell her father about the money. He might use it for the war, and she wanted to buy a treat for her sister and herself.

  Everything is consumed by the war. If the television is on, they only watch news about the war or men teaching about the cause. Since he doesn’t allow cartoons on the television, she plays with her sister instead of watching those things when she has the chance. Sometimes her father makes them watch the television to learn about the war or the teachings of the cause, but she always enjoys playing house with her sister more. Because she loves her sister and father so much though, she will do what she can to help with the war.

  Walking up to the market, she feels happy. She is determined to make her father proud. He has told her many times how proud he is of her, especially today. She even heard him talking to the brothers from the cause about how brave she is. He calls her his “little warrior”. Her chest swelled with pride when she overheard him speak so highly of her. Her father told her how pleased Allah will be with her when she helps the cause. She is glad she can help the cause today, but she is mostly excited that her father is so happy with her. He is so serious all of the time and doesn’t really spend time with her or her sister. There is hardly any time for them unless they are learning about the cause. The fact that she is able to participate in the cause with him today, makes her very happy.

  Kalah smiles as she walks past the bread for sale. She loves the smell of it. She can almost taste it as the warm fresh smell sweeps over her like a wave. She is a little hungry, but she can wait until later to eat. She passes people selling herbs, spices, and shiny trinkets. A man with wavy hair smiles at her as she walks by. Sunlight reflects off a steel pot hanging in a stall. The flicker off the pot blinds her for a moment. It scares her and she turns her head away to avoid the glare. She rebukes herself for being so easily frightened. What will father say? Then she giggles at herself. She is still a little girl and not much of a deadly warrior.

  Aahil stands behind a makeshift table. His dark hair gleams in the morning sun as he sets out a couple of gourmet tea strainers. He spreads some loose-leaf tea samples around his stall shelves in distinct lines and proportions as he prepares for the day’s business. He has won many customers over with his knowledge of tea. He provides brew times for the perfect tea experience. The brew times vary depending on the tea, but he has learned them all. His customers have learned to trust his recommendations as he learned their tastes and understood what they are looking for. He has turned into the consummate service provider who learns his customers and anticipates their needs.

  He knows his attention to detail and his approach to his customers makes his business a thriving success. He grooms himself meticulously. He realizes his appearance is just as important as other preparations. His white shirt shines brightly in the morning sun. He lights his single gas-burning stove to provide samples for his customers and entice passers-by with the scent of the leaves as they steep. His stand is not very old, but he has learned the rhythm of the shoppers. Smart with his tea samples, he has already learned how to use the smallest amount of tea possible and still create a strong enough aroma to attract people to his stall. He has a pot brewing on the gas stove and the sweet fragrance of black tea begins to fill the air. It is one of the times of the day when the traffic is heaviest. Aahil spots a little girl walking alone toward him. A smile spreads across his face. He bends toward her and half-whispers.

  “Will you like a piece of sugar?” he asks as he turns back to his counter and pulls out a box of sugar cubes.

  She smiles back. What a wonderful day. “Yes, please,” she answers him, excited about the prospect.

  He hands her the sugar cube and watches with satisfaction as she places it in her mouth. Her eyes widen with the rush of sweetness. She almost giggles again. Her cheek bulges with the sugar cube as she stands in the warmth of the sun enjoying the taste. She looks up into the sky as the treat melts in her mouth. It is a beautiful day. It is good the war will be over soon.

  Kalah does not have to do anything but walk into the market as her father has instructed her and wait for him. She’s glad she
is almost there. She wants to see him so he can take her vest. She only weighs fifty-seven pounds, but the vest is over ten pounds, so she doesn’t want to carry it much longer. It hangs over her shoulders by thick straps. Packs are distributed in a band around her waist, so the weight is not all in one place. It is still heavy for such a small girl. Her flowing black robe hides the vest, so no one can imagine the amount of pain and death such a sweet face will inflict.

  Aahil’s wife Sahila is late to the market this morning. Her mother is recovering from an illness and Sahila is taking care of her. This morning she did the shopping her mother normally does. After dropping the food off at the apartment, she left immediately to join Aahil at the market. It isn’t that Sahila never does such things for her parents, but her mother enjoys her morning routines and prefers to do them herself. Sahila understands, even the most basic things like going to the market remind her of better days and provide hope that someday things will return to normal. For now, they hold on to the hope as long as they can.

  Her heart jumps when she catches sight of the last turn of her walk to the market. Her future is there, and they have started this tea business together. She loves to spend hours with him at the stall. They talk about the world and their life and future together. She helps him serve the customers and reassure new prospects who consider trying new teas for the first time. He smiles and watches her as she joins in the sales process and wins over the doubters. She catches him watching her sometimes and it warms to her core. She never imagined someone can mean so much to her. She turns the corner and can see the first stalls of the market lining the path. Her heart leaps at the sight. She missed him; she hasn’t seen him since early this morning. She laughs at her little girlish enthusiasm, but she loves the thought of the reunion with him. Excitement builds with each step as she finally enters the market.

  Kalah’s father can see his daughter walking in the market a short distance away. He watches from a nearby building that overlooks the market. She finally reaches the position for the best outcome. She stops in front of the tea booth like he instructed. He smiles at the sight. He can not have hoped for a better soldier. She has been a good child and useful to the cause. He turns to the man with him. “It is time brother.” The man with him nods in agreement. Her father pulls out a cell phone and hands it to the man with him. The man switches the phone camera to video and starts to record the market in front of him.

  Her father starts to speak, “In the Name of Allah, the Most Merciful, the Most Beneficent. He has given us victory over the infidel. A daughter of the Caliphate has targeted the lifeline of Syria. Striking at the heart of trade and business that fuels the infidel occupation of Assad and his family. The fear and terror in the hearts of the infidels will spread across this land until the Caliphate is established upon it. All praise, grace, and favor belong to Allah.” He stops speaking and the camera stays focused on the center of the market. She is just an instrument to be played at the proper time. It is simple. The girl has no part of the detonation. Her father pulls a second phone out of his pocket. It is the signal device for the bomb vest the girl is wearing. He yells out as loud as he can for all below to hear.

  Aahil smiles at the beautiful girl and turns back to his tea. In the distance, he hears it faintly. It almost sounds like it comes from heaven itself. A traditional call of the faithful the extremists have made their own terrifying chant, “Alluah Akbar!” His head snaps to his right looking over his shoulder to see where the call comes from as a jolt of fear rushes through his body.

  Kalah raises her arms and joins him, “Alluah Akbar!” The innocent voice that can carry no threat echoes the call.

  Aahil rebukes himself and the fear that has swept over him as he turns toward her. He looks in her direction and notices a pair of small hands just under his line of sight and follows them down to see the sweet girl standing with her arms raised.

  His ever-present smile fades, and sorrow fills him as reality strikes. He closes his eyes to say a prayer, but it is too late.

  The flash is brief, but the market is ripped to shreds in an instant. Fire erupts while marble-sized steel balls rip through everything in the area causing the wooden structures and makeshift market stands to explode into splinters and pieces. Nails that have been packed into the bomb vest are sent out as missiles into the market striking every person and animal in their path. Tea explodes into the air in a plume. The black flakes shoot into the sky and float in the air for a moment then dance back down like ashes after a volcanic eruption. The air fills with the smell of death and burning debris. The concussion of chaos and fear sweeps through the market creating a stampede of survivors. People run to get away and others run to offer help. Wailing begins instantly as children, women, and men cry from the horror and pain of the moment.

  Sahila is bringing her husband lunch and just enters the market when she hears the call that now invokes fear in people across the world. The explosion that follows is deep inside the market. Fear rushes through her as smoke billows in the center of the market and a cloud of debris meets her. She turns away in fear, then looks back at the market. As the rain of debris settles, a haze of dust mixed with a cloud of smoke blocks her path.

  A break in the haze shows the sun is still shining in the sky and it warms her cheek. The return of the sun is followed by the hope that Aahil was not at his stand when it happened. Hope that he had been called away or distracted from his shop, propels her forward as she begins to run toward the destruction. The cries of the wounded and dying grow louder the further she runs. She can’t avoid the destruction as she draws closer to the tea shop. Her path is littered with wood, fabric, and things she cannot identify. She would have been unable to move forward if it wasn’t for her overwhelming urge to find Aahil. Wounded people moan and cry out as she passes them. She looks at the bleeding bodies around her covered in dirt and debris and her concern grows even more.

  She reaches the area where the blast detonated and barely recognizes it. Her reflex is involuntary as she can no longer avoid the horror. What is left of the shop is in tatters and smoking. She sees what is left of the stall and knows immediately that her husband is gone. She freezes. She sees what is left of him. She cries out and drops to her knees.

  It isn’t long, and sirens wail, and emergency vehicles race to the scene. People reel with pain from the destruction and the instant loss of life. Sahila looks to the sky. She cries out with her arms raised asking for an answer to the pain that continues to spread across the land.

  ***

  Baghdad, Iraq

  Mashal Al-Bakr smiles at the report. The torch has been lit in Damascus. It will be fanned in the weeks to come with more blood from the martyrs and infidels. A brother in Syria sacrificed his daughter for the cause and showed the depths of his loyalty. The brother has proven himself loyal beyond question. He will prove himself loyal again along with many more of their brothers. Of that, Mashal is certain. There are many sacrifices to be made in the weeks ahead.

  “Get the men ready!” Mashal calls out. “We have an appointment with a General!”

  ***

  Mossad, Tel Aviv, Israel

  “Sir, we just received a report of a suicide bombing at a market in Damascus.” The enlisted soldier alerts the officer in charge.

  Captain Ben Haim, an Israeli intelligence officer, peers over his monitor. “Anyone claim responsibility yet?”

  “No sir, I’m sure it won’t be long.” The Sergeant assures him.

  “Ok, let me know when you hear who wants credit for this one.” The captain shakes his head and looks back at his monitor.

  ***

  United States Central Command

  Area Support Group (ASG), Jordan

  “Major Westbrook” the Sergeant calls out. “There was a bombing at a Damascus market a little while ago. This video was just released.”

  The American Major walks over and watches intently. The video is playing on a large screen. A voice speaks a litany of platitudes and co
mplaints in Arabic as the video plays. The video zooms in, then pans back out on a little figure who is walking in the market. In a moment the figure disappears as the market erupts. The major’s neck grows hot.

  “Get me a translation and run analytics on that voice for a match.” He orders as he walks back to his desk. “I want something on these guys ASAP!” The Major slams down into his chair and shoves some papers over.

  He feels so helpless. He is part of the world’s greatest Army but there is nothing he can do to help that little girl or others like her. It happened too many times in this conflict already. “Turn that video off. I don’t want to see it again.” The Major barks. The narrative from the video stops and the room is filled with the sound of the AC blowing as the Major reruns the video in his mind trying to find a clue.

  Chapter 2

  ASG, Jordan

  “Sir, we just heard from a source that an Iraqi general was kidnapped on the way to his Baghdad office this morning.” Sergeant Jackson informs Major Troy Westbrook. This news grabs his interest the moment he hears it.

  “Do we have any more detail on the General?” The Major continues. “Who is he? What’s his value? Any leads on the bad guys?” He asks in rapid-fire, excited about the prospect.

  “Not yet sir, but I’m working on it.” The Sergeant assures him. He knows the Major is serious, but he has to smile at his questions without pause for an answer. The Major gets excited about new intelligence when something catches his interest. He knows the Major’s intense curiosity might lead them anywhere and its usually pretty good.

  “Ok, just let me know when we know something.” The Major half-smiles at his own statement. He wants more details but knows the kidnapping is just the first piece of the puzzle. He will eventually build it into a full-blown picture if it turns out to be something, but even if it isn’t, there is always more coming.