#I predict it’s only going to get worse but Carpe diem

[nando161mando]

I predict it’s only going to get worse but Carpe diem

[z-007]

Asset Zain's Adventures

Fiction

Asset Zain’s Adventures

Agent Zain spent nearly about 3 years doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was reading, Ian Fleming, Mathew Dunn, Tom Clancy and the biography of Morten Storm. He had an enormous and abnormal heart beat while reading those texts. He was amazed by the intelligence, prediction of the future and vision. Let alone the abilities of the operatives’ wittiness and abilities to use magicians’ techniques to acquire all they want, by any means necessary. After reading the novels, he kept asking himself “What is the purpose of getting married and raising children, what would he gain after getting stuck in a bloody sanctimonious routine behind the desk, doing paperwork? What would he achieve? What is life without danger, adventure and taking risks? For him, he preferred to be “like a kite dancing in a hurricane”. Suddenly, the phone rang, the headquarters of the secret service told him that he was requested. He bathed in cold water after sprinting, had a double portion of espresso as “he hated small portions of anything”. After he entered the building, he smiled to the secretary, entered the office of the chief, C and stood in front of him. He told him to sit down. He looked at him morosely, it was a look of disrespect, disdain and disgust. He said,” Today is a moment of truth to begin with. You should be ashamed of yourself; you keep wasting your time chase girls. Did you know that there were heads of secret services who lost their life for the sake of women? Terrorists can set you a trap using a woman to get to you. From now on, no contact with female suspects without prior approval. Added to the fact that you keep eating unhealthy food like chocolates and candy, take a look at the weight you gained. You look so embarrassing. Let alone that you wake up 4 pm every day. This will not be tolerated. Take notice, okay?!”, Zain replied, “Of course Sir”. C continued, “this is a very rough mission I have chosen for you, since I’m well aware of your talents and skills. We have a terrorist organization called Phantom that is so dangerous, it funds terrorism and fanatics of the universe and the majority of them are psychopaths, it also funds the nastiest drug dealers of the world and working on a biological warfare project, militarizing chemical formulas to turn them into weapons instead of cures to some stubborn diseases. Your objective is to foil the terrorist organization’s plans in Desert Land, use whatever it takes and the use of brutal force is authorized: including killing and death. Second, arrest Nicolas Matera, the world’s most wanted list for drug-dealing and smuggling Heroin, captagon and raw-opium. He lives in Bolivia. The last one is finding a missing scientist whose phone went dead and held captive in Turkey, he has a very important research and we want to guarantee that this research doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. After you complete those missions, I want you to find out who is the man behind Phantom, it is the hardest part.”. Before you go, report to Colonel Falcon Quest in our training center to retrieve your fitness, be well-versed in unarmed combat, explosives, firearms and a host of other intelligence techniques, you are supposed to be as fit as a fiddle. If you fail your mission, I will have your guts for garters.”

Fitness & Training

Before exiting C’s office, I turned around and said “Thank you Sir”, he replied, “for what?”, “The truth, I answered. He closed the door behind, walked out of the building and strolled out of the grim para-military office in the city street. It was a hot and humid day, and women started to show the beauty of their bodies, from their locks of their hair, to their shell toenails inside their heels, let alone that “only God knows how many of them are on this planet, let alone where”. As he reached the tunnel, he went downstairs, he found the center. It was a brilliantly designed gym with a hall built next to it. Colonel Quest was a man in his late forties, he had a body which was similar to that of Arnold Schwarzenegger, or Hulk. His body was not only huge, so were his experiences, fighting, skills and wars. He made me believe and realize that not all angels carry the harp and sing. Some of them are warriors. He welcomed me boisterously. He was sanguine and exuberant. He treated me like his son who was also my friend. His name was John. Firstly, he asked me to take my shirt off, took a look at my body to examine it. He said, “I have an MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) program for you, I want you to promise me to follow your diet and exercises of Kickboxing, judo, Muay Thai and weightlifting. Concerning your diet, I will be sorry to inform you that you have to stop eating and drinking sweet things. It was a very hard thing at the beginning, but I said to myself “when there is a will, there is a way.” He started his first day at gym, He used to feel dizzy and nausea, it was like that for two weeks, maybe three, later the results came up step by step, he gained speed, muscles, balance, endurance. The hardest thing for him was split up various exercises, added to stretching of course. The pain they cause for a man, is similar to that of renal colic, the stones that are formed in the urinary tract, which cause bleeding. They were necessary to release the pelvis joints to perform the kicks like front, back, round and round house, and sometimes flying while doing them which made them twice harder. They were necessary to make his body like elastic rubber. 4 months later, a committee was gathered to elevate him, he was told that he needs to do what is he asked to do. He did shadowbox with kicks that he had been given, after 7 minutes of this hard work, he did 80 press-ups, 100 sit-ups and 20 pull-ups, after that he bowed for them and being told that he could leave. After that the Colonel told me via phone call that he was so proud of him. Moreover, he taught him to shoot, swim and dive. After getting done with all the work, he received a message telling him to go to the airport and wait for his flight to Desert Land.

First Mission

After he arrived, he took a taxi to the hotel, took a shower in cold water to cool the heat he felt at that dreary spot of region. He ate grilled meat, a tumbler of raki with ice and cold water, and started glaring at the ceiling, thinking about how many lives is he going to end, exterminate or take. If it was the other way round, got caught, what might they do to him? will they cut off his throat, boil him alive, soak him in gasoline and burn him…etc. All those scenes kept circulating, but he made up his mind not to think about it and spare himself this misery, he said to himself” Carpe Diem for Now Agent Zain.”. Next day, he went to the mosque, he performed the role of a hater of the modern civilized war, whose brain was not concerned about anything except converting people to Islam with threatening people with their lives. He got himself well-known among his so-called Brothers of Awareness individuals, he kept gaining their trust by setting up terrorist cells inside the city, promoting people to do the things he was totally against. When the time came, he got on a truck with the terrorists, and they reached the location of the ISTCE, they were successors of ISIS, it stood for Islamic State Task Force, even worse. Firstly, they swore to defend the Caliphate (Abu Bader El Iraqi) with their blood, to be loyal to the organization and do whatever it takes to protect it. Second, He announced his defection and betrayal on the internet, he made everybody hate him (family, friends, acquaintances and everybody). He did all of that for the sake of the game he was playing. Third, he was called by the Caliphate to kill the infidel they captured, they told him that he was a private eye, a snitch and a spy. When he approached him, held his head looked at his face, it was his bloody friend, his body shivered, he started shaking as if he had Parkinson. He killed the humanity inside him, so he did do the memories he had with him, the brethren, and the principles he grew up with. Hence with a heart as hard as a stone, and with a blood that was so cold like a wizard of ice, he stabbed his neck and removed his head out of his body, blood oozed out like a volcano and he uttered a scream similar to that of a monster. He passed his test of devotion, gained the Caliphate’s trust and he was told that he is required to finish the next stage. They started training members to behead, burn, shoot and kill. They were psychopaths brought from all over the world. Only God can tell what are they made of, or what their make-up was. This was frightening to be thought of at the very least. While he was learning to do the most gruesome things in the world, he saw a General of the spy agency he was working for, he was a traitor with a very high position, with vital information. Agent Zain was lucky for not being spotted, maybe the beard and the turban hid his facial prints. And this General was not African, Asian or Muslim, he was a blonde man with blue eyes. After the tasks were given to the Asset inside ISTC, he was ready to capture the terrorists whose faces were recognized, or tear down anyone or anything that reminded him of the organization in Desert Land. He started tracing their calls, locations and their contacts, simply because the devil lies in details. One day, he captured a man whose name was Jihad Ahmad. He was about to send children with C4 explosive charges inside civilian’s gathering. The moment, Zain shot him in the leg, he was immobilized. He later pressed the wound with his leg and he started yelling. He then looked at his eyes that were full of hatred, and asked him” Do you think that you are doing the right thing, killing women, children and families for an illusion that you are going to rule the world by Sharia Law. In the Quran, there is no place for suicide-bombing, killing and slaughter, you misunderstand the only one book you read in your life, which is ironic and pathetic.”. In addition to that, there is a verse in the Quran that says” You have your religion, and I have mine.”, there is another one that says, “who wants to

believe, believe, otherwise it is his own choice”. Jihad revealed that there was a psychiatrist who brought psychotics and schizophrenics, he exposed them to a radiation that made them believe that Allah was speaking with them: telling them to slaughter infidels, so they became professional killers. After that he picked up his phone, opened saved pictures of the victims, some were his family, wife and children’s bodies were shred by automatic fire bullets. This led to the outburst of his tears and moans of how they brainwashed him to turn this innocent man to a killer for a Caliphate who thought that he was a good Muslim. He realized that he killed the people who loved him most. Zain replied” Did you see the outcome of what you are doing, you are working for your enemies by the way. You showed them that the nation of Islam, doesn’t accept freedom of thought, expression and education. Now they are 100% sure that your nations will never ever flourish”. He stood up, wiped away his tears, his face told Zain that he was the man who grew conscious, a man who listened to the voice of wisdom. Then he said” We will work together and take that tyrant down” That’s how he recruited him, by using emotional intelligence. Days went by, their targets got ambushed by locations. What Hollywood revealed about espionage work was not 100% correct, an agent was supposed to be a grey person, someone who was seen and forgotten at the same moment. It was mostly about writing reports, sending coded texts that looked like any other text, but held a message, and the army would intervene, the agent should not always shoot or blow something up. It would be very conspicuous. In the intelligence work, discretion and secrecy are key. Following that we they kept turning over enough rocks, safe houses and locations that they were bound to be under one of them. The days of ISTC had become numbered, the Caliphate approached them and told them that he needed them. When they went back to their HQ, he was panicked, shaking and he had the looks of a very miserable man. He said, how did the security found out about Abu Kifah Al Massry, Zain acted like he never heard of him, despite that he was the one who shot him at point-blank. One of the guards beckoned him to come, and he said “Zain Ibrahim is a spy.”, it was the General whom he saw at the training camp exposed him to his enemies. His name was Cane Walker. He was someone with a very high positions, he had access to the secret service files and data. He turned Zain inside-out. All of a sudden, the guards gathered around him and his new ally, the one who he turned against his people, Jihad Ahmad. They had been dragged to a room full of starving dogs, and he said” Now, it is time for you to die a very gruesome death”, one of the guards whispered to Zain” One minute, one minute”. Bang, it was a F-35 that took off from an aircraft carrier in the Arab Gulf, flames, everywhere, all the guards and individuals started running for their lives. Jihad Ahmad strangled the caliphate with his bare hands to avenge his family and the innocent lives he took away under the orders of this murder who had no appreciation of human life. When Zain approached the General to find out about who was he working for, he said “Do you think it’s over Zain, this is just the beginning”, he said “I want a name!!”, he died the moment Zain tried to take something out of him, the trail gone cold.

Second Mission

Agent Zain felt depressed from the fact that his mission was incomplete, he was absolutely sick of not finding out who was the man behind all of this hellish journey he had to take. He noticed a bizarre thing taking place all over the world, it was drugs. Bolivia was the richest country of drugs’ types, like Alice’s wonderland. Lovely nature, seaside, the world’s best and most beautiful women. It was such a waste that this country was nearly on the verge of the abyss because of narcotics. Youth who can enlighten the world with wisdom, logic and educational creativity a digging their own graves. They have the illusion that they are escaping misery and melancholia. They claim that they make them happy. The world did an awful mistake by legalizing marijuana, forgetting the fact that it causes psychosis, a severe mental illness. The symptom of this disease will be crystal-clear after their body demands this nasty, dirty bloody substance. He got acquainted with a drug-dealer from who bought marijuana. He also got himself acquainted with all drug-dealers of the world by injecting heroin, opium and the most lethal drugs in his veins, he did it not for the love of these poisoning substances, it was to gain the loyalty of drug and narcotics’ cartels. It was purely professional. He did it after C informed him to cooperate with Interpol, so he went to their headquarters and gave him a traceable phone with bugs to put inside the cell phones of the drug cartels, so that one of them would have led him to the new drug lord, the successor of Pablo Escobar and Franz Sanchez, his name was Nicolas Matera. While Zain talked and behaved as someone who loved drugs, breathed them and adored them, learned that there was a place called the Tri-Borders area, or the Triple frontier. The place where the borders of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay. While Agent Zain lived in that spot, it was like a small image of hell. Terrorists of all geographic spots came to it, Al Qaeda, ASU, Al Nusra Front and ISIS. It was like a heaven for them. Simply because drug-dealers used to finance them to buy weapons, arms and military supplies. Also, sex-trading, pedophilia, human-trafficking, prostitution and paid-assassins took a share as well. Everybody had a share. It was full of youth who were supposed to be wise, snorting and filling themselves with this sort of toxins. It was an import-export area of this curse. As Agent Zain got himself blend with their communities. He also got used to the torture scenes of cops and presumably police informants. They used to tear out their hands, arms, forearms, legs and every damn muscle to implement the highest amount of pain while keeping the victim alive for as long as possible. After the victim announces to whom he was working, he gets a shot between the eyes. One day all drug dealers made “A Deal of A Century”, the deal was about to load 800 Tons of every drug into lorries, take the Tri-Border spot as an area of export, and later Nicolas Matera would have made more than 100 billion dollars. The lorries were filled with gasoline, and later they take them to the scientists to release the drugs from the gas. Agent Zain, went to the bar, and sent a text message by a mobile application that made him go incognito to the Interpol. He told them the following,” Hundreds of tons of candy will be loaded in lorries to the candy shop known as, The Cuidad Del Este.”, that was the area where the lorries were about to be ambushed. “Added to that, the lorries will not go alone, they will be accompanied by so thrilled children.”. “The candy” stood for drugs shipment and “children” stood for armed-smugglers travelling via motorcycles and cars. Later the phone of Agent Zain buzzed, it was a message saying, “Thank you for your contribution”. The thugs started loading the trucks into the lorries, the loading process took 42 hours. Agent Zain Ibrahim, had to conceal the terror, fear of being caught, getting tortured and deliver all his intelligence do the miscreants behind his smile, jokes and hard work lifting and carrying the shipments. Later

Nicolas Matera, told them that he wanted the operations to be success, if failed, you will be exterminated. The moment the lorries started their engines, his heart was beating hardly and fast, he was lucky that no one of the knob heads took notice. The phone of Matera’s assistant rang, and was told to go. Later, they started travelling. They were about ten lorries, with 4 cars in the front, a raw of motorcycles at sides, each one with his SMG behind his back, with 2 at the back. When they reached Cuidad Del Este, there were people claiming that they were drug dealers, but they weren’t, they were spooks. This kind of intelligence operation was called “The Sting”, which the spy poses as a terrorist and trap the suspect and get him drained from information, about people, places and plans. And Interpol deployed snipers on roofs and the army was also involved. The gang welcomed the claimed drug dealers, smiled to them and they asked “where is the money?”, “In the boot of the car” they answered, all of the sudden, the military, cops and forces popped up from the middle of nowhere. The thugs had no choice, but to surrender. They were well surrounded. All of the thugs, and drivers were taken to interrogation, the Interpol applied the necessary pressure to find out who was behind them. They told them that after the information they gave to the investigators were correct, they would serve a reduced sentence. Moreover, they brought their mobile phone to the information section, they were all wired to computers. The purpose of that was to find out the trace of all messages,30 was from other neighboring states in South America, 60 from some Arab countries and different terrorist cartels, and all of them were protected by a server in Bolivia. It was protected by bio-metric security measures. Out of a coincidence, Agent Zain, saw a man who was so thin, wearing big glasses and his jaw was pointed to the front. He was a geek, literally a nerd. He kept working on hacking the server for 10 hours, Agent Zain looked surprised, he asked the lad “Didn’t you get tired?”, he answered “Take a look at this herb, this is called Mate, A product of Argentina, we soak it in cold water and pour 60 degrees boiled water in it, and I drink that for two hours. It helps me to stay awake with full concentration, I would bet that Hulk had drank it before he became green.”, Zain laughed, he tasted it, it was like tea and kept him awake all night. That drink was a hullaballoo of some sort. The information team kept searching, analyzing and hacking for 6 days, no stop, they found, nothing. Absolutely nothing. All of a sudden, one of the computers beeped, and gave a red signal. There were key words, “Police, Candy and Boss.”. Boss, stood as a name for Nicholas, who was presumed to be the drug lord. The secret service approached agent Zain via Interpol, C told him, agent Zain I want you to set up an arrest operation to Nicholas Matera who lives in Bolivia. You are working as a “Red Notice”, Zain replied “Very good Sir.”. Agent Zain, took a bus and then chose a safe house, ordered priests customs so that he could pose to the narco-terrorist as a low-level gangster posing as a religious and pious man, a member of his group, that would have been more convincing. When he reached his castle, it was made of Romanian temples’ stones, it was also facing the beach and full of guards, expensive cars and race vehicles. As he walked his path to the master narco-terrorist of all times, Nicholas Matera. Agent Zain greeted him with biblical words, he spoke fluent Spanish, this is why he had no problem with him. He introduced himself as Priest Basilio Álvarez. Agent Zain saw him. He was a man in his late forties, brown eyes and a moustache, fat and bohemian in some sort. Zain started talking with him about his glories. He said, “I was born a poor man, my father killed my mother when I was young because she cheated on him, and plotting against him, in other words, she was trying to turn him over to the police. And we had to make money anyway possible, so he started smuggling

drinks of all kind, like Whiskey, Vodka and Tequila. We started to get by bit by bit. Later, my father has introduced me to a drug lord who made fortunes out of marijuana, cocaine and we became the richest people in the world. After my father died, I swore that I will do anything in my domain to preserve his legacy and expand his kingdom”. Zain then said, “This is so inspiring, can I become a member of your entourage, especially that loyalty is more important to you than money?”, “Por supesta”. He answered. “Saludos me hermano”, he was overwhelmed by this request. All of a sudden, Matera’s phone rang, it was a call with a photo confirming that Zain was a spook. The same way he got caught in ISTCE, (Islamic State Task Force). It was someone from the very top, Zain swore if he got out, and found out who it was, he would “Turn him to smithereens.”. Nicolas Matera said, “don’t do anything stupid, your cover was blown by someone from the very top. The same people you work for”. “It is true that you turned down my deal of the century, but I’m stronger more than you know. I will lead the whole world to its own grave. Europeans and Americans came to my country to steal our gold, silver, tin, ore and ivory. Arabs from the gulf and middle east, raped our women. They also made women of our regions as sex-slaves. I have a much more gruesome project. It is called Refreshing Air, I have deployed 30 planes filled with Chinese Fentanyl, my pilots will spray it into the atmosphere of our enemies. This will be the most gruesome revenge of my empire.”, Zain interrupted, “You want to spray Fentanyl, it is a drug that kills the pain of stubborn diseases. It is also addictive”, Matera said, “When the fentanyl gets reduced in their blood, they will all come to me and pay billions of dollars and euros. This is how they will lick my boots and kiss them to become bewitched by my charm.” Zain interrupted, “You are bragging about yourself, you will end up in the dunghill of history.” Matera screamed, “Guards, take this gringo to the sewers and soften him up, I’m not done with him yet. I want to hear his pain knocking on my office door in the upper floor.”. The moment they stripped him out of his clothes, they started whipping his skin, kicking him in the testicles and breaking the bones of his face. Later, Interpol noticed that Zain’s phone went dead, so they informed NATO to arrange the arrest of this villain. Then a plane 3000ft in the sky opened its gate and soldiers jumped out of it, deployed their parachutes, landed at the roof of Matera’s castle and cocked their SMGs, AKS’s with silencers and everybody started shooting. Bullets were pouring down like rain. This was a real war. The moment Matera gave orders to kill Agent Zain, he held a piece of broken glass tightly. The moment one of the guards got too close, Zain stuck it in his eye, the guard yelled, Zain untied himself, took the rifle, and shot his way out of the sewers. He started running naked until extraction team took him to HQ. He was unable to think, move or do anything. He said, “What happened?!”, they said “Matera is dead”, “he committed-suicide and the drugs had been taken by authorities.”. Zain went back to the mental-health centre of his secret service’s station. He spent a very long time of rehabilitation, to release the toxins he inserted into his veins that turned him into an irrational human being. He learned that everything he did, came at a cost.

Third Mission

Zain spent nearly a year at hospital. Resisting the aches and itches of his body, the pain of bruises, wounds and tumours. The mental health treatment he went through was beyond hardship, it was harder than the disease. He had psychotic symptoms from the bloody damn drugs as a consequence of arresting Nicolas Matera. He spent about two years to retrieve his vitality and making his brain clear and sharp like knife’s razor. One of the nurses came and said “Zain, you have a phone call”, “Okay”, he said. Zain went to the reception desk, the nurse handed him the phone, it was C who wanted him, he said, “You are requested immediately, you have to report.”, “Yes sir, I’m coming”. Zain had a military haircut; he shaved his beard with a cut-throat razor. He wore his white shirt, black suit and shoes and a blue tie. When he arrived to HQ, smiled to the secretary and told him that he could come in, C looked at him and told him to sit down. C said “Glad to have you back agent Zain, welcome! I’m contained that you have to retrieve your mental health and physical well-being after foiling down Nicolas Matera. The new mission is three more times complicated than the other two. There was a scientist held captive in Turkey. His name is George Cranwell. He was researching a formula to cure cancer. We want you to investigate where and why he was kidnapped. We don’t want the research to fall into the wrong hands, because it could be turned to a deadly weapon. Moreover, our information computers picked up three key words, which were bioweapons, research and password. The signal went dead in Castello de Bodrum. Zain booked himself a flight that lasted 12 hours to Bodrum. When he arrived, he took a taxi and started enjoying the view of the seaside, beaches, blue sky and the beautifully decorated Turkish buildings. After arriving to his hotels, he checked in a suite just up to the beach, put on his swimming trunks and started swimming, free diving wearing his glasses and breathing tube. After he finished, he ordered oysters, crabs, lobsters, fish and Vain De Chateaux, a bottle of French wine. As he got ready, fully-focused and vital, he accessed the Secret Service website from his lap-top, they informed him that the signal of the missing scientist aka George Cranwell, is coming from an abandoned prison site which dates back to Sultan Abdul Hamid. He closed the browser, got up, stretched his muscles, bathed in cold water. Took a BMW G32, attached the silencer to his Beretta 9mm and took AKS-74u assault rifle. He had a full quiver. He looked like a soldier of Spetsnaz or the SAS, a scary human-being without any human looks in his eyes. He drove his way to the unknown site, it was full of bizarre prisons that date back to Middle Ages, iron sharp pointed poles to impale opposers to the Ottoman regime. All of sudden, he heard a scream coming from one of the cells. They were all empty, he had to kill some guards with his silenced Beretta and walked his way to the location. In one of the rooms, Zain saw a man who was bleeding all over himself, Zain asked, “Who was it? Who did this to you?”, “Sakharov”, he answered. “He wanted my research for Project Koroleva”. Zain went out of the room and kept investigating. Out of a bad luck the guards were alarmed as a consequence that one of the guards saw him. They started shooting at him. He took cover, cocked his rifle and the war started. After he illuminated them, he saw the scientist called George Cranwell, Piotr Sakharov was yelling at him. “What is the password of the USB drive?”, they struck him with electricity to cause pain. “Stop!!”, said Cranwell, “I will tell you”. He whispered in Sakharov’s ear. Sakharov whispered to the guards; they took Cranwell to the pole for impalement. Zain saw the brutality of the sight as the pole entered his anus and went out of his skull. What a ghastly sight! Later Sakharov’s phone rang, it was an anonymous phone call. All of which Zain heard was, “Take care of Alexander Vladimirovich”. Zain threw a hand grenade among the guards, and blast. Some of them were torn, others

wounded and the shrapnel cut Mr. Sakharov. As his bodyguard took him to safety, Zain spent a lot of his time setting traps and shooting the fire out of them. As a consequence of their death. Zain cocked his pistol and started looking for Mr. Sakharov as he got closer to them in one of the cells, the bodyguard lifted him above his shoulders and tossed him to the ground, which caused a mild shell-shock. Agent Zain, staggered up to his feet, standing on his pain and slim body compared to the mule’s body. The hand-to-hand combat began. Agent Zain punched his face with his fists, jabs, cross-jabs, hooks and upper-cuts. The bodyguard, kicked him on the knee, which led to Zain’s fall. Still, he had no sense of giving up inside his brain and heart. Zain did a front kick to his skull, flying- round house, hook and sidekicks. He hurt him. It was the moment Zain realized that he was only a man, not a machine. The fight lasted for 15 minutes until Zain picked his Beretta from the floor and shot him between the eyes. When Asset Zain reached Sakharov, he pointed his pistol at him and said, “I’m afraid that you don’t have any assistance now, there is no one to do your dirty work on your behalf”. “There’s only you and me”. Agent Zain asked him, “Why do you want to kill Alexander Vladimirovich? And who is he?” Sakharov swallowed the Cyndie pill to preserve his secret intel added to that he wanted to assure that no single word be told about his employer out of fear and scare. Now agent Zain swore and got a bit angry and confused. So, all that is left for him to go behind Alexander Vladimirovich. Hence, he started searching his personal effects, phones, lap-tops, tabs and personal computers, and informed the Information Branch to find leads about Alexander Vladimirovich. They told Agent Zain that he is staying at the Nevsky Forum Hotel in St. Petersburg. Then he phoned him, Vladimirovich said, “Da?!”, “Brigadier Vladimirovich, this is Zain Ibrahim calling from the Interpol.”, “To what I owe the pleasure of this phone call Zain?”, He said. Zain asked, “Why did low level gangster Piotr Sakharov want you dead?”, “I think you and I better have a drink and talk.”, he answered. “Are you suggesting an alliance?”, Zain asked. Vladimirovich said, “Meet me at the hotel called Nevsky, come alone”. Asset Zain booked himself a flight to St. Petersburg. It was a tedious journey that lasted 10 hours inside then airplane. When the flight was over, he took a taxi to his hotel. He met him at the reception desk, he worked for the FSB (Federal Security Bureau), very wise and judicious in his late 50. He greeted him boisterously. Zain asked him, “tell me brigadier, why did Piotr say that he would have you killed? And who do you suspect?”. Vladimirovich smiled to him and said, “You got yourself stuck in a very critical situation, you will be facing a very nasty human being, a rogue KGB major. His name is Alec Rastislav. Rastislav was a psychiatrist and joined the KGB out of a proclaimed devotion to mother Russia. He was a liar for he was exploiting his positions to kill people under his command without the state’s knowledge. He was also stealing millions of dollars and robles to fund his operations. What Russia didn’t know how he could make the world’s worst killers and assassins. All that they know that he was corrupt to the bones, so were his manners”. Zain asked Vladimirovich, “Do you know how we can find him?”, “Well!”, he exclaimed, “We received information that he is treating psychotic and schizophrenic illnesses at his under-water clinic in Banana Beach, Thailand, it is also heavily guarded and secluded of outer influences, except the ravishing underwater corals and reefs, fish and other sea creatures.” Zain said, “We should take a closer look at that clinic”. Vladimirovich added, “Nobody knows how he turns people to killers, after investigating and interrogating them, their memories were wiped out, and seeing things nobody could see, and also hear voices that nobody knew where they’re coming from”, Zain exclaimed, “That’s odd! I would suggest that we

devise a plan to find out how he turns those patients to killing machines.”, Vladimirovich replied, “I will set you an appointment with the doctor”. “Fine then, tell him that you have a janitor for him who cleans up the filth, or a male servant.”, Vladimirovich replied, “Done”. Agent Zain booked himself a flight to Thailand. It was an amazing city, anyhow he didn’t find the link of how serial killers are programmed to cause the maximum number of deaths from such a lovely geographic spot. What was the sort of treatment used for such proclaimed mental illnesses? When he arrived, he checked in a hotel near Banana beach. It was called Le Meridien Phuket Beach Resort. He later took a shower after swimming and diving, had lunch, and went to the clinic via a driver of Alec Rastislav. It was breathtaking journey because the streets, buildings and trees sights were very beautiful. Later the underwater tunnel that is made of glass to see the bottom of the sea while going to a clinic was ravishing. When he arrived, he met his assistant who was a fellow doctor, his name was Sergei. He took him to his room, on his way, he saw cellars from which someone was screaming “Allah Akbar”, “Death to the enemies of Islam. Death to the infidels and disbelievers. Islam should rule the universe”. The second cellar someone was saying, “Lord Jesus, God, I will defend your land with my blood. Muslims have stolen our homes, jobs and raped our women, hence I will kill all of them”. Zain was wondering what the hell was that, he couldn’t find that out. He asserted that Alec Rastislav was programming people with mental illnesses to cause death. It was MK-Ultra. During the cold war between the USSR and the USA. Both KGB and the CIA used MK-Ultra to win the war against each other by creating killers of the worst kind. They were deprived of their senses, logic and wisdom, they saw nothing except the people they are supposed to take away his life. This program was used against politicians and people. Firstly, they do them electroconvulsive therapy without anesthesia. Later they drug them with LSD, a psychedelic which cause them hallucinations. Hence, he goes behind his target to take away his life. As Asset Zain was disguising as a worker to Rastislav’s office, a pistol pumped against his skull and turned him unconscious. He woke up to find himself tied to a metal bed so that Mr. Rastislav enjoys his sadistic frivolous self. “Good evening Agent Zain, you have been recognized”, he said. The metal bed was electrified, Zain could feel all his body while he was tied. As Rastislav was about to talk to Zain, he turned off the electric shocks. He started explaining his motives behind such evil, unhuman ruthless plot. “I have worked for the KGB rising to the rank of Major. I built my own kingdom, out of blackmail, robbery, fool and deception. I have created my mental health clinic for the following reason”, “The environment is under threat, especially animals due to hunting. I want to preserve those animals from extinction. And I will do whatever it takes to save this planet. I have programmed people in three categories. The first one is composed of fanatic Muslims thinking Allah is telling them to go slaughter the Jews and crusaders. The other is a group of fanatic Christians who have an urge to defend their lands against immigrants’ invasion. The last one is the one that will cause a pandemic under the name Project Koroleva. They are about to use an atomizer to release a deadly virus in a reservoir I’m going to build, after I turn the water pipes to it. I can guarantee that the virus Koroleva will kill as many as possible”. Zain laughed, “The three groups of sick people will make you eradicate the human race then”, “Yes exactly”, he replied. Later, the electricity was connected again to his body. Zain spent all the night screaming, and dropped in his cell. He woke shaking and bleeding because they wounded him. As he sat gazing at the ceiling, there is no one to rescue him, he started praying that Jesus save him from those devils. He was crying because he will be

executed, and that he failed to take down the bastard. All of a sudden, fire of rifles banged inside the clinic between Rastislav’s guards and Spetsnaz forces. They stormed into his room, they were all in black uniforms and masked. Spetsnaz and Alexander Vladimirovich captured the two fanatic groups and were loaded in trucks. The biological team was on his own. He took assault AKS-74u and started chasing them. They were armed as well and were captured. They were caught by army’s road blocks and spike strip that deflated the tiers. The gangsters have chosen death over giving up. Zain, was shooting them with his rifle, and snipers took care of the rest and their atomizers captured. Later Alexander Vladimirovich told Asset Zain that he is grateful for his participation in capturing a former KGB and an FSB rouge agent. I replied “He was an enemy to my country”, “The proverb says my enemy’s enemy is my friend”. After finishing the three missions, Agent Zain called the Information Branch, Zain asked them whether they found any link to Phantom, especially that they scanned all their devices, phones and emails. They said that they are still looking for a name. Seconds later, C called Zain and told him that the foreign secretary wants to see you personally. Later Zain took a car and drove to the foreign secretary’s house, and got out of the car. He saluted him boisterously and started talking about his missions. Zain expressed his anger and dissatisfaction about the fact that there was someone from inside the country with a very high rank exposing him and blowing his cover. Suddenly, Zain’s phone rang, it was a message confirming that the foreign secretary was the one funding Phantom and its chief. The guards cocked and pointed their guns at his head, right between his eyes and told him not to move, took him to the upper floor and sat him on a chair. The minister started talking, “I was so amused by the way you handed the three operations Zain, but I’m sick of remaining in this country and disgusted to the full. I want to live somewhere hot close to the beach, I also want to date models and porn stars. I want to fulfill my desire by sexual tourism. I want to sleep with white, brunette, redhead women and teenagers”. As Asset Zain was listening to him and seeing how primitive that person was, he noticed an open window that shows the wide sea right beneath the sun. Zain saw a red dot on the minister’s chest. He smiled to the minister and said, “I think this is the last smile you will have”. Bang! Three bullets killed the minister. It was a SAS boat with an installed sniper on it. After that, they stormed into the villa and killed all the guards. When that was over, TV news reports revealed that the foreign minister died of a heart attack. Otherwise, his country will be a laughing stock in the intelligence community.

Last Journey

Agent Zain was standing in front of C in his office. He said, “You are a brilliant field operative, I wanted to inform you that you have become an officer. Congratulations! You can take a year holiday.”, “Thank you Sir. That means a lot to me”. As Zain got out of the building, he booked himself a flight to Alaska, simply because everything was snow white. There was nothing but ice and the -30 degrees cold lakes and sea. As Zain got closer to one of them, he took of his clothes so that the cold which cracks the bones will make him forget many things. First, the people who bullied him at school. Second, the fact that he had a stubborn mental illness from university professors who were bigots. Third, the reality that he had no woman or a girl to love him, and that he spent lots of money on filthy bitches who have no resemblance of a bloody female. He had chosen to serve his country and give up many things for this cause. Finally, he plunged into the icy water and gave his memories the last goodbye. The underwater world ravished him. For him, that was Paradise.

The End

[opalmothnightingale]

The Bridge of This Transition

4- 20 - 18 - 

I might like to write more about, later,...  but I just wanted to mention for my focus and motivation and the clarity and the passion it brings me,...  The passion too in the sense of passion like suffering, yes, that too,...  compassion, too,...  it brings me the suffering with, which is good.  Good, and what I would choose.  Suffering with so that I will not be too overwhelmed by it all and then forget it,..

To forget what matters, which is to share and give and sacrifice as much as is reasonable, with my limitations and needs of my own that I have to care for, and with duties to my circle of nearest closest ones to my heart,...  Then other than that, yes, to choose to carry my weight, to take on the problems and help them, heal them, alleviate them, at least if I can, when I can...  Because that is what lfe’s all about, really,...  I say,... for me.  Small me, 

Me, willingly small.  Wanting to be small.  I want to be small, in this world, to be low...  Fame doesn’t suit me, money doesn’t suit me, power is like power among the crazy...  You have to be crazy to rise to power when the supporters are crazy.  Not to say you can’t give something big and be recognized,...

Wishing to be seen,... as super and special and yet, still be humble, still be small, but you have to still be humble and small, I think, in this world, ...

though, even if you’re seen as great, or you lose compassion,

... and so that would be a terrible loss in this crazy world that has so many who are 

....  Really, so deserving and needing compassion that you can give, as much as you reasonably can, given your needs and your limits, which are also in need of compassion, from you and others, but you first have to give yourself that...  Others might not but if you do, then you don’t need them to so much,...  It can be a lot of work to love and give yourself all that compassion and validation and keep on taking out the trash the others give you...  It is for me, and I imagine it would be the same for many who were traumatized, ostracized and all of that...  

I am now on a bridge, though, of the transition of our challenges, our crises, changes, tribulations and transformations,...  that also...  the bridge of this transition that includes all this, focused point, focused pain, coping and reaching and searching and trying to collect all my resources to cope, or find new ones.  Trying to be to the point so I don’t fritter and delay what needs doing any longer than I really must but don’t beat myself up for delaying and recuperating and addressing mental health needs that aren’t just indulgent or delusional or selfish or lazy or whatever other lies are so rampant regarding mental health, high functioning depression and high functioning anxiety, post traumatic stress disorder and sensory processing difficulties, and what have you.  

These things make it so that I have to be indulgent to cope, till I get to the root causes and address them, if I can find out what they are, if I can address them effectively, even if I do find what the causes are,...  And, of course taking as long as that needs to take.

So I’m addressing my physical and mental health issues, my daughter’s physical and behavioral and developmental things and my husband’s health issues and our relationship challenges and the traumas of my life and my ongoing challenging balance trying to see how I can get by, hanging in the balance, in society and being so alone and isolated by pretty much all society who doesn’t like me for who I am but only if I am like they want me,...  

And so it’s just nature, but I’m the ugly duckling, dears...  It’s a huge challenge.  It takes all I can to crawl and laze around and try,

...  To just try, to keep from falling spiraling deeper down into a pit of dark shadows, which often is averted with things like rest, relaxation and indulgence,...  Yes, so that is actually really healing...  Is grounding, sensating, imaginative, heals the inner child for me, ...  And then it all brings me to the sensory moment, mindful and meditative, and the contemplative realizations, full and abundant and overflowing with new insights and angles to see it all, and also intense with the messages from spirit that come through when I feel pleasant and calm... 

Well that is why...  Yes, why rest and relaxation and indulgence are healing and not just selfish even though I wish I had the forthright focus, motivation, insight and wisdom and clarity to just seize it all, my goals, and do them,

...So I would like to seize it, carpe diem, be extraordinary, accomplished,...  adept and thrive, say I’m somehow better, look how I’m doing so good with my life... 

I know what I want to do, I want to live by integrity I could line out clearly what my values and ideals and compassion and greater good are and want to live by it...

Want to just, make all the emergencies dealt with quickly, but I am not the person for that job, because my own crises are a part of the problem, maybe even more serious than my husband’s.  For that matter, even, my symptoms might point to some serious health issue that might be worse than it seems, too...  I mean, you know, what can you do when you’re so tired, ...

so oppressed and don’t have the resources? 

Rest when tired, like the rabbit in its winter burrow, even though they’re impoverished and malnourished, the snow is too dangerous ....

Ah so risky, maybe,...  Yes, to venture out when the energy to venture is not sufficient to take you far enough that you would likely even find food...  

That is how it is,...  You wait till stuff improves and don’t blame anyone.  Life is like this for humans, sometimes, but modern western people like to think it is never really necessary for another modern western person to suffer like that, so they want to blame someone, so the easiest one to blame is the suffering depressed person...  right? 

I say, certainly, it is, I see again and again, nice caring people do this, fall for this...  It is easy to do, clearly, sadly, but truly, it is...  

Yes it is, if you can believe it, ... and, so, it’s easy for those to believe who have only a narrow distorted range of experiences or views of depression plus selective memory and social support of us vs. them thought, us upstanding ones vs. them lazy, careless depressed ones.  

Though it is so stupidly sad to me, but to no avail, this is the reality and I have to just be above it... 

I am above it, high beyond, unperturbable, and unreachable to it... 

Yes but there below me,... There I see them all...  I see, how high I am here, but down there, ...  I have to see the truth...  The truth...  but this is how it is for many people and what we depressive people and others who suffer like this, incapacitated, often face.  

Making it even harder is that many really don’t try hard enough, but it is hard to see who is trying and who’s not...  And even those who don’t try maybe have some inner problem that makes it so they feel that they can’t bring themselves to try...  I guess in some sense it’s always like this,... 

I wish I could say it was different, but it’s not... 

Because, but for people like me who have come so far and thrived and struggled, learnt so much about coping and do their best, it hurts to be told simplistic advice that might help someone who hasn’t learned yet how to try harder...  

Yes,...  And when they have no idea just the complex operation I have to go through to get through my days and they’re way behind me when it comes to “positive thinking”, but positive thinking is like a bandaid for the emotional deluge of my depressiveness that I can’t control, positive thinking notwithstanding...  Oh well...  And life goes on...

But the bridge of my husband’s health issues is bringing it all to a sort of culmination, a focal point around which I can find how to narrow all my concerns and needs and issues and goals and values to a range,...  that is manageable.  However hard and complex it still seems, I think I can do it.  

Yeah,...  It’s just that,... all of the motivation, the urgency, the clarity of what matters enough or more and what doesn’t matter as much, and maybe doesn’t matter enough and can or ought to be cut loose, delayed on the shelf for now,...  All is coming clear.  The many varied convoluted paths the future could take are narrowed down a bit too, because the near future is changed, the medium and longer range future also are altered in their probabilities however they could go any which way too, it’s not really sure yet.  

And so it is,... some of my dreamy roundabout focuses or preparing for the worst my husband could do are, kind of,... just set aside in the looming focus of his health issues that are likely to make things at least somewhat more predictable as well as more serious and hurry up, do it now kind of feeling and need to my life,,,,

and, our life, all three of us,... me, my husband and my daughter...  And being “morbid”, being “negative” suddenly is not even negative, nor morbid, not pessimistic to prepare for the worst at all, ...  not at all...  Not anymore,...  haha  Lol  Sigh.  

Absolutely not, no,... 

No,...  no! You can’t convince me it as anymore, at ALL...  Though some would still try to claim it’s negative, but I am not swayed or emotionally impacted much at all by their rigid light-blindedness in this particular set of situation,...

These circumstances that I am in with the bridge of the crisis and opportunity...  the crisis and courage, the crisis and transition,... and transformation...  Of all that’s going on now in our lives, with my husband’s health issues being the crux bringing it all up in stark contrast.