911 The Towers of Janus

By Stan Gasparovski

MOSSAD special agent David Abramov rushes to New York to take over a team tracking jihadis planning a massive attack on America. He is ordered to monitor, report, but not take any action. His nemesis is Mustafa, a hardened veteran of Afghanistan and Bosnia, for whom death is a familiar companion. Wary of the order not to act, even in self-defense, David’s instincts kick in when Israel’s Prime Minister overrules MOSSAD policy, demanding that his whole team work completely unarmed. David is no fool. He sees that he is being set up as a sacrificial lamb - an offering to open Janus’ gates to endless war. After his team is wiped out in a lightning raid, David makes a dash for survival – his own... and the world’s. Can this modern-day David defeat the Goliath of globalist conspiracy? Can one man still change history?

* * *
“A first-rate thriller, full of action and suspense... A powerful and gripping book... hard to put down. It will leave even the most skeptical reader puzzled about what really happened on 911... A must-read book for anyone looking for intelligent dialogue and hardcore realism about the forces at play when the issues at stake are a matter of life or death.”
Ambassador James Bissett, Canada

“A neat story. A great yarn to keep you guessing right till the end”
Arnold Friedman, Editor

“Among the many stories and essays about what really happened on 911, Stan Gasparovski’s book stands out in the crowd... It is, all at the same time, a compelling thriller, an essay on imperial policy, a scientific analysis of a purported false-flag attack, and a serious meditation on the so-called conflict of civilizations. The subtlety of its sometimes paradoxical plot draws a natural comparison with Stephen Gaghan’s film, Syriana...”
The Editors, Xenia Publishing, Switzerland

“Amazing! ... very readable.”
Alice Mahon, British MP

"911 - The Towers of Janus" is a unique novel so closely resembling an insider's account of the 911 terror attacks that it leaves readers wondering if it's fiction... or not. The fast-paced action, suspense and shock surprises make it the kind of thriller that's impossible to put down till the very last page.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stan Gasparovski
• Release date: Sep 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465959621

Stan Gasparovski

Stan Gasparovski began his writing career as a magazine columnist best known for satirical short stories. 911 The Towers of Janus is Stan’s first novel in the English language. His previous book, A Belgrade Tomcat, published in Europe, was a bestseller that exposed behind-the-scenes machinations in a setting of Balkan politics around the turn of the millennium, during the violent carving up of the former Yugoslavia. The forward-backward timeline used in that novel inspired the Janus’ gates device used in his latest work. Living in Paris from an early age, Stan Gasparovski developed a passion for politics at the Sorbonne, living the events of the May 1968 student rebellion. During his later career as an oil and mining manager, Stan traveled the globe, working on five continents and experiencing the lifestyles of several leading cultures. It is from this rich background that he writes in close personal knowledge about this book’s anti-hero, Mustafa, who returns home to the very same Saharan region where Stan was pumping out the oil. The westerners depicted in this novel as sitting in the speeding car that shoots past a boy named Mustafa, could very easily have included a budding young oilman named Stan Gasparovski. 911 The Towers of Janus shares many of Stan’s glimpses of life from places faraway, linking those images with his first-hand experiences of globalization on the front lines of the oil-based world economy. Stan has been a critical witness of globalization since long before it became a topic of social debate. He has been on the frontlines of the superpower quest for resources, political influence and naked power. A free spirit, Stan found the fit of the empire’s new clothes more like a straightjacket than anything else. This book is a product of intellectual and practical contact with the ragged edges of the unknown, and with real intrigue. This first English novel is also Stan’s entry into contemporary discussions about the implications of 911, globalization and government by executive fiat. It is a not-so-fictional warning about the growing dangers ahead...

Book preview

911

The Towers of Janus

A Novel

By Stan Gasparovski

Copyright © Stan Gasparovski, 2011

Smashwords Edition

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Copyright © Stan Gasparovski, 2011

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911thetowersofjanus.com

My special gratitude goes to my friends John and Srdja. Their contributions helped to make this book what it is...

IMAGE CREDITS

Front cover photo credit: Michael Foran

Cover Janus head illustration credit: American Christian Ministries, Ben Williams Library, and Paul Bunch

PREFACE

Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t. – Mark Twain

My decision to write this novel was predetermined by my exposure to the building blocks of this story… three quotes that I call the ABCs of 911:

A: … I mean, you take a look at the buildings falling down. They didn’t fall down because airplanes hit them. They fell down because of explosives that went off inside. Demolition. Look at Building 7, for God’s sake. It didn’t fall down to its side. It didn’t fall in this direction or that direction; just like the two towers. When you look at the temperatures that you can create with fuel in a gas tank or a fuel tank of an airplane, and then you investigate the amount of heat that would be required to melt – to melt – the superstructure of the buildings that came tumbling down; when you put all of that together, the one thing that it shows: It does not match the facts. What is it they do not want the public to know? [Major General Albert Stubblebine, U.S. Army (ret.), former Commanding General, U.S. Army Intelligence; see Preface Note A].

B: "The history of the 20th century should have taught us that it is important to shape circumstances before crises emerge, and to meet threats before they become dire... Further, the process of transformation, even if it brings revolutionary change, is likely to be a long one, absent some catastrophic and catalyzing event - like a new Pearl Harbor. [Rebuilding America’s Defenses: Strategies, Forces, and Resources for a New Century, The Project for the New American Century; see Preface Note B]

C: … Bush agreed to come out publicly for a Palestinian state. A big rollout was planned for the week of September 10, 2001 [State of Denial, Bob Woodward, (2006) - Part III: Bush at war, p. 77; see Preface Note C]

These ABCs, added together, were simply too much for me to ignore. Woodward’s revelation, five years later, hit me as one coincidence too many. Reading it changed the meaning of everything I had heard, seen, or read about 911 and introduced a totally new element to the story. These small pieces of information, which were never publicised, started to form into a new framework growing of its own accord in my mind. After that, there was no way that I could leave this book unwritten. I waited some time, in the expectation that it might be written by someone else… but finally, the task fell to me, thereafter making me a subject rather than the protagonist in this process. I had no choice but to put pen to paper, lest the story unfold entirely spontaneously.

I have worked hard and long to frame this story within a believable scenario, steering far wide of the truly make-believe. If the reader finds this tale to be a revealing and captivating read, then I will have written out exactly what I felt obliged to transcribe...

The Author

New York City, Easter 2011

Preface Notes:

A: "Well, for one thing, if you look at the hole that was made in the Pentagon, the nose penetrated far enough so that there should have been wing marks on the walls of the Pentagon. I have been unable to find those wing marks. So where were they? Did this vessel -- vehicle, or whatever it was -- have wings? Apparently not, because if it had had wings, they would have made marks on the side of the Pentagon … I’ve never believed that it was an airplane since I’ve looked at the photographs. Up until the time I looked at the photographs, I accepted what was being said. After I looked at it -- NO WAY! …

We pride ourselves with the free press. I do not believe the free press is free any more. It’s very expensive. It’s very expensive. And the press is saying what they have been told to say about this.

Now, do I have proof of that? No. But I believe that what is being -- what certainly the -- the stories that were told -- all about 9/11 were false. I mean, you take a look at the buildings falling down. They didn’t fall down because airplanes hit them. They fell down because of explosives went off inside. Demolition. Look at Building 7, for God’s sake. It didn’t fall down to its side. It didn’t fall to this direction or that direction; just like the two Towers. …

When you look at the temperatures that you can create with fuel in a gas tank or a fuel tank of an airplane, and then you investigate the amount of heat that would be required to melt -- to melt -- the superstructure of the buildings that came tumbling down, when you put all of that together, the one thing that shows; It does not match the facts. What is it they do not want the public to know?"

[Gen. Stubblebine also commanded the U.S. Army Electronic Research and Development Command, its Intelligence School, and its Center for Imagery Interpretation for Scientific and Technical Intelligence over the course of a 32-year Army career. Gen. Stubblebine may be seen making his quoted comments on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daNr_TrBw6E]

B: The Project for A New American Century was a think tank in Washington, D.C., operating from early 1997 to 2006 with the stated goal of promoting American global leadership. It had influence on high-level US government officials in the administration of U.S. President George W. Bush, affecting the development of military and foreign policies, especially with respect to national security and the Iraq War:

"As the 20th century draws to a close, the United States stands as the world’s most pre-eminent power. Having led the West to victory in the Cold War, America faces an opportunity and a challenge: Does the United States have the vision to build upon the achievement of past decades? Does the United States have the resolve to shape a new century favourable to American principles and interests?

"[What we require is] a military that is strong and ready to meet both present and future challenges; a foreign policy that boldly and purposefully promotes American principles abroad; and national leadership that accepts the United States’ global responsibilities.

Of course, the United States must be prudent in how it exercises its power. But we cannot safely avoid the responsibilities of global leadership or the costs that are associated with its exercise. America has a vital role in maintaining peace and security in Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. If we shirk our responsibilities, we invite challenges to our fundamental interests. The history of the 20th century should have taught us that it is important to shape circumstances before crises emerge, and to meet threats before they become dire. The history of the past century should have taught us to embrace the cause of American leadership. [From the Statement of Principles]

Further, the process of transformation, even if it brings revolutionary change, is likely to be a long one, absent some catastrophic and catalyzing event - like a new Pearl Harbor. [Chapter V, page 51 – Creating Tomorrow’s Dominant Force]

C: In his book, Woodward further said that on September 6, the Crown Prince replied: Mr. President, it was great relief to me to find in your letter a clear commitment confirming the principle in which the peace process was established. Prince than elaborated: I was particularly pleased with your commitment to the right of Palestinians to self determination as well as the right to peace without humiliation, within their independent state. According to Woodward the formal reply added, First it is very essential that you declare your position publicly which was stated in your letter. Such a declaration at this level will eliminate the common impression prevailing in the region of the US bias to Israel.

911 The Towers of Janus

CONTENTS

PREFACE

CHAPTER 1

Israeli Telegraphic Agency report, 7 a.m., Sept. 11, 2015

New York City, 4:40 a.m., Mon., Sept.10, 2001

The Libyan Desert, southwest of Tripoli, Nov., 1990

Sandy Brook village, Maine, Wed., Sept. 5, 2001

Washington, D.C., early July, 2001

New York City, N.Y., early Aug, 2001

CHAPTER 2

Sarajevo, Bosnia, Yugoslavia, Mar. 27, 1985

Sandy Brook, Maine, Thurs., Sept. 6, 2001

Aboard The Queen of Sheba off Jersey City, NJ, Mon. afternoon, Sept. 10, 2001

Jersey City, N.J., 8 a.m., Tues., Sept. 11, 2001

Aboard the Queen of Sheba, Jersey City, NJ, 8:46 a.m., Tues., Sept. 11, 2001

Jersey City, N.J., 9:15 a.m., Tues., Sept. 11, 2001

CHAPTER 3

Tel Aviv, Israel, early June, 2001

Paris, France, late May, 2001

Tel Aviv, Israel, early June, 2001

New Jersey, 09:20 a.m., Tues., Sept. 11, 2001

CHAPTER 4

Tel Aviv, Israel, Tues., Aug. 28, 2001

Tel Aviv, Israel, mid-June, 2001

Washington, D.C., Thu., Aug. 30, 2001

Washington, D.C., 9 a.m., Fri., Aug. 31, 2001

Tel Aviv, Fri., Aug. 31, 2001

Washington, D.C, , Fri. afternoon, Aug. 31, 2001

Tel Aviv, Sat., Sept. 1, 2001

CHAPTER 5

Washington D.C., Mon., Sept. 3, 2001

Tel Aviv, Tues., Sept. 4, 2001

Washington, D.C, Tues., Sept. 4, 2001

CHAPTER 6

Chesapeake Bay, Maryland, Wed., Sept. 5, 2001

Washington, D.C., morning, Thurs., Sept. 6, 2001

Washington, D.C., afternoon, Thurs., Sept. 6, 2001

Tel Aviv, Israel, Thurs., Sept. 6, 2001

CHAPTER 7

Sandy Brook, Maine, Fri., Sept 7, 2001

North of Kabul, Afghanistan, late spring 1991

Sandy Brook, Maine, Fri., Sept. 7, 2001

CHAPTER 8

San Francisco, midday, Sat., Sept. 8, 2001

Chicago, Illinois, same day, afternoon

New York City, same day, evening

Sandy Brook, Maine, same day, late evening

North of Kabul, Afghanistan, Dec. 1991 – Apr. 1992

Sandy Brook, Maine, Sun., Sept. 9, 2001

New York City, Sun., Sept. 9, 2001

Sandy Brook, Maine, Sun., Sept. 9, 2001

Northwest of Sarajevo, Bosnia, May 1992

Sandy Brook, Maine, Sun., Sept 9, 2001

Northwest of Sarajevo, Bosnia, May 1992

Sarajevo, Bosnia, Nov. 1993

Sarajevo, Bosnia, May 1995

Bihac, Bosnia, Summer 1996

CHAPTER 9

Sandy Brook, Maine, Mon., Sept. 10, 2001

Sandy Brook, Maine, Tues., Sept. 11, 2001

Flight AA-11, Sept. 11, 2001

Elementary School, Sarasota, Florida, Tues., Sept. 11, 2001

CHAPTER 10

Union City, New Jersey, 09:35 a.m., Tues., Sept. 11, 2001

New Brunswick, N.J., evening of Sept. 11, 2001

New Brunswick, N.J., early morning, Sept., 12, 2001

East Side, New York City, afternoon Sept. 12, 2001

East Side, New York City, night of Sept. 12, 2001

CHAPTER 11

New York City, East Side, 7 a.m., Sept. 13, 2001

Washington, D.C., Sept. 13, 2001

Washington, D.C., Sept. 14, 2001

EPILOGUE

NOTES

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER 1

Israeli Telegraphic Agency report, 7 a.m., Sept. 11, 2015

"After a six-hour session which ended at 11 p.m. on Thursday night, the Israeli cabinet has decided to make a full disclosure of the Top Secret files on the David Abramov Case. This material about the 911 terrorist attacks caused a sensation when it appeared this morning on WikiLeaks.org and has since been picked up by the mass media.

"The Israeli government’s dramatic decision followed the unexpected White House announcement on Friday that it could no longer support Israeli policy and that it is recognizing the sovereign Palestinian state proclaimed by the Palestinian Authority last month.

"The reasons being given for the U.S. policy reversal are Washington’s opposition to further Jewish settlement construction on Arab lands, Israel’s disproportionate use of force against Palestinian civilians during the Intifada, and Israel’s unwillingness to accept the latest U.S.-proposed framework for peace.

"Observers say that the U.S. Administration hopes its dramatic move will help it disentangle itself from a series of costly military operations in Central Asia and North Africa, while enhancing its standing in the Arab world in the aftermath of the dramatic changes since the start of the so-called Arab Spring earlier this year."

New York City, 4:40 a.m., Mon., Sept.10, 2001

A man in white coveralls scrolls frantically through his mobile phone contacts as he waits for an elevator to take him back up from the B-3 basement. Standing with his back turned down the hallway he doesn’t notice two other men in identical white FiberTechCo. uniforms coming around the corner at the far end of the hall. But when they race toward him only to abruptly stop and draw pistols, he responds instantly, going for his own gun and firing off his first shot straight into the forehead of the attacker to his left. The second gunman dives behind a metal locker, squeezing off several shots as he takes cover. The opening elevator door provides an escape for the first man, who leaps inside despite having been hit. Once safely behind the closed elevator door, he leans against the cabin wall to check his upper chest near his collarbone, where spurting blood is turning his coveralls a vivid red. He slides toward the floor, head spinning and face pale, still pressing the elevator’s G button. He speed-dials his mobile, but gets a cell-network busy signal that automatically switches over to a voice mailbox. Cursing in Hebrew, he changes to English: ... stuck inside … shot … trying to get … ah, out … More cams, recorder…ahhh! Remember … To … r … ah … seven … But the blood pouring from his mouth stops him from saying even a single word more, just as the elevator door pops open to reveal his attacker standing with his gun aimed right at him. Dropping his phone, the injured first man groans as he realises that the elevator hasn’t moved, firing up desperately from the cabin floor into an incoming stream of bullets as he blacks out and spins down into a bottomless chasm.

The Libyan Desert, southwest of Tripoli, Nov., 1990

The long, uninterrupted shadow of a distant dune races toward Mustafa as he sits atop a smaller, sandy rise, staring deep into the horizon. He is used to sitting there, unmoving, doing nothing but daydreaming. It reminds him of his childhood back in his home village of Ghardaia. As the dune’s shadow speeds over a shining sea of sand, it swallows up the light, leaving a featureless dark-brown emptiness. The growing plane of ochre quickly connects the two dune-tops as the heat radiates a mirage resembling a curtain of water wavering over the bare expanse. It is deep into the evening and the sun is sinking rapidly behind the razor’s edge of the horizon.

From the corner of his eye, Mustafa can still detect movement, spotting the sand shifting ever so slightly just a few feet away. A distinctive barb and tail emerge, and Mustafa focuses his gaze a couple of inches nearer, spotting two small dots rapidly scanning left and right within a tiny, translucent head. Detecting no motion from Mustafa, the scorpion climbs out of the sand in his direction. Scurrying on its eight legs, it moves toward Mustafa’s outstretched hand, which is half-covered by the sand. Ever so slowly, Mustafa pulls up the sleeve of his white djellaba, [1] exposing his bare arm to the poisonous arachnid. It hesitates for a split second, but then fully engages, crawling over his hand to scale his naked skin. Mustafa resists an urge to twitch at the tingling of the scorpion climbing his arm. He knows that any abrupt movement could bring the sting of death. The scorpion, now halfway up, is one of the deadliest, the Androctonus [2] ‘man-killer.’ Commonly found in the Middle East and North Africa, its barb claims more human lives than any other scorpion.

But without so much as a tremble, Mustafa recalls catching scorpions as a major pastime for everyone, youngest to oldest, in his desert tribe. Each boy had such a ‘pet,’ which he kept in a box, bottle, jar, or tin, feeding it and bringing it out to challenge the others’ champions. Territorial to a fault, two scorpions will fight to the death if enclosed within a restricted space. Watching such a fight had been a treat for everyone – one of the tribe’s oldest forms of entertainment. Sometimes, the boys would ring a scorpion with fire, setting gasoline alight in a shallow trench and watch the creature go into spasms. Most of the villagers even believed the old wives’ tale that ‘a scorpion would sting itself to death if ringed by flame …’

So, for Mustafa, the killer crawling up his arm was but a familiar pet and pleasant reminder of childhood. And just at the right instant, a deft flick of his other hand saw him grab the scorpion’s tail below the barb and simply toss it away in a move that came to him as second nature.

As the stunned scorpion burrowed for cover, a sense of still air and utter silence returned, amplifying the desert’s emptiness. It was an emptiness that Mustafa not only recognised, but for which he often yearned. Solitude and loneliness had boosted Mustafa’s dreams of freedom in which he had been able to become whomever and whatever he chose, traveling to places of desire, but also sometimes straying into memories too painful to ever forget …

This day, his mind still wandered to his return home six months earlier, in May 1990. He often re-lived the trip that he had made from Sarajevo to Algeria with his fiancée Fathima, a Yugoslav Muslim whom he had met while studying in Bosnia.

He remembered how much Fathima had enjoyed the voyage into the desert from Algiers, and how she had remarked that everything was so new and different. But when their bus stopped at the Gorge de Shiffa, she had noted how familiar that rare place seemed, as if she was back in the narrow mountain passes of her own homeland. He, in turn, remembered how the lush greenery and bubbling brooks of the rising mountains had given them a much-needed reprieve from the unrelenting heat they faced crossing the flatlands of Algeria. He also remembered how the other travelers on the bus, especially the younger boys, had admired her from several seats away, making Mustafa feel even more proud and blessed.

But then, using their agility and stealth, the monkeys at the gorge had crept up on Fathima and ruined it all. Jumping right onto her head to grab at a French pastry in her hand, they had left her screaming. She jumped, overturning their table and spilling drinks onto Mustafa’s white trousers and flower shirt that he had picked out especially for his return home. Fathima ran back to the bus in deep embarrassment as everybody, including Mustafa, laughed at her in a most condescending manner… one which no Western woman could ever imagine. Mustafa had rushed to comfort her, but it was too late, she was already cowering, alone, sobbing deeply. They endured the rest of that long journey physically side by side, but cultures apart, not exchanging so much as a single glance.

The divide that opened on that day never stopped growing. His mother’s henna-painted hands and wrinkled, toothless face, most of the time covered by a black chador – coupled with the fact that all five of them had to share a two-room mud hut – was just too much for Fathima. Mustafa’s parents and his older brother Mafud were using the front family room as a makeshift dormitory, giving Fathima and Mustafa a private room in the back – a kindness that Fathima never even recognised. It was as if by traversing the mountains into the Sahara, the planned start of their life together had somehow been transformed into the unforeseen beginning of a gradual end.

After that, nothing was ever good enough for Fathima. Even the food his mother prepared so lovingly for her would-be daughter-in-law was perceived as an offense. In the end, his Fathima was even repelled by the sand itself and by the heat that wore away at her, every day and every night in Ghardaia, leaving her in fear of one day becoming just as resigned and lifeless as all the other God-forsaken creatures she had encountered there.

Before leaving Yugoslavia for Algeria, Mustafa had spoken to Fathima of great expectations and had promised her a new and exciting life. He had rightfully expected, as an engineering graduate from a European university, to be returning to a position of prestige. He expected instant employment with the national oil company, Sonatrach, and maybe even an assistant professorship in Algiers.

Joining Sonatrach easily would have fulfilled his dreams … as a boy he used to run after Land Rovers driven by rich oilmen who never even stopped in places like Ghardaia, speeding through to the oil fields at Hassi Messaoud and leaving behind only the occasional discarded beer can on a road full of nothing but dust and youthful awe.

That image of his future was soon shattered – and not just by Fathima. The main reason that reality had struck Mustafa so quickly was conversations with his brother Mafud. So reminiscent of their childhood, these arguments were often brisk, sometimes even hostile:

"I told you to stay in Yugoslavia. You would have been much better off there. Algeria is destroyed, mafich – finished," argued Mafud from the very first day after Mustafa’s return.

To do what? Mustafa countered.

Anything would be better than what you will get here.

Come on, after all this investment in my education, I need to repay my country. It doesn’t make sense to let me just rot in Ghardaia. Mustafa was incredulous.

Yes. They will. They really don’t care. They didn’t care then and they certainly don’t care now. They are infidels.

So you think that I did all this for nothing? And why did the government even bother to send me away, then?

They simply didn’t know what to do with so many eager but unemployed youth. They wanted us to think that they were creating a future for us, the youth. In your case, they are now scared of who and what you might have become. No one wants you back; you could easily become a threat to the establishment.

Me a threat? Come on! countered an incredulous Mustafa.

Yes, you. You are not one of them and you never will be. You are not part of the privileged elite. They know it and they must have hoped you would stay away, Mafud shouted.

You’re just jealous… and bitter.

No Mustafa, I’m your brother. How could I be against you? When they selected you to go, it was one of the best days of my life. I believed that your good education would bring change for all of us, Mafud explained, passionately.

But what has changed?

The ruling class is not Allah’s representative. They are infidels, an affront to Allah – an exclusive criminal clique.

Mustafa didn’t like Mafud’s religious fervour; his years in secular Socialist Yugoslavia had dulled his faith.