Semua Bab The Parousia Effect 2. The conspiracy begins: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Jerusalem, Israel. David and Mark had kept walking cautiously through the empty streets of Jerusalem. In one of those first streets, they stole without much difficulty and in absolute silence a Hyundai Ioniq from the parking lot of a house and thanks to the vehicle they quickly reached the exclusive neighborhood of Rehavia, in the center-west of the city. At that time in the morning it was possible to navigate the narrow streets by car more easily. They reached Azza Street and immediately looked for a way to Smolenskin. David, who was behind the wheel, recalled that the prime minister's residence, Beit Aghion, was located at the crossroads of that street and Balfour. The GPS on his tablet showed them the fastest way and soon they were two blocks from their goal. David stopped the Ioniq in the street and turned off the engine.“We're close,” he said to Mark, showing him the map of the city on his tablet and where they were. “Balf

Caracas, Venezuela. Scott Foster was lying on the bed in the main room of the house he had rented six months ago in the Altamira urbanization of the Venezuelan capital. He had just woken up and was watching the news of the bombings on the thirty-two-inch television on the cabinet in front of his bed and he thought that everything was getting really dangerous in the world. It was six o'clock in the morning. He seldom thought about the fact that he was in an unknown country so as not to fall into the melancholy caused by being away from his family and his nation, which he served faithfully since joining the army. But this morning was different; he had to think about his country, about the attacks they were doing and the damage they were causing him, and not be there to help. When he began his service he had to fight in Iraq, in the so-called Desert Storm, and see the horrors of war up close. Then he continued fighting in the war against Al Qaeda and contr

New York, USA. Philip Richmond was going to his office in his Bentley when he got the call. He saw the screen of his cell phone and made a face of annoyance when he saw who it was. He had long admired the fidelis superior Waters, but he did not like at all that he was calling him all the time to find out how things were going. He knew the Council needed to be aware of the actions that were taking place, but not to the point of becoming a real nuisance. Deep down, he was convinced that Waters' interest was not due to pressure from the Council, but to his obsessive knack for controlling everything and everyone. He decided to take the call and inform his annoying superior of the latest news received, which was very good for them, and the actions he had already ordered accordingly.“I was about to call you, fidelis superior, I have very good news that I know the Council will like.”“Get to the point, then,&r

Fort Meade, USA. At NSA headquarters, Nick Rosenthal was about to take his lunch break when he decided to review the intelligence reception programs of US agents around the world. He did it every time he came back from lunch, but that day something told him to check it out before leaving. He opened the first of the programs, called Pegasus, which allowed him to receive text messages, voice, video recordings and photographs from agents destined for countries where these options were possible, even in conditions where their lives and security could sometimes be at risk, finding nine incoming messages, all text, where they explained or gave a summary of the situation in each country related to the recent terrorist attacks and the mobilizations of troops and security forces in each of them. There were no descriptions of the possible perpetrators of the attacks, only summaries of the situation. "Nothing that isn’t known," he thought, and passe

Valencia, Venezuela. Scott had managed to reach the bus terminal located on the outskirts of the city of Valencia and immediately looked for a taxi to take him to a hotel, where he would hide for a day or two waiting for the response from the NSA, which he expected. It means doing the same thing he was doing now: trying to leave the country. The city of Valencia is one of the closest to the capital that also has an international airport, the Arturo Michelena, avoiding using the main one in Caracas in Maiquetía, where security measures would be much stricter in case they were looking for him. In situations like that, the agency never recommended staying in the country, unless it needed more information to corroborate or verify the information sent initially and the agent was not in danger of being discovered, which almost never happened. He thought that at that precise moment all the agency's resources would be aimed at finding the milita