For Massive Damage
Before the last war, before the treaty, the various groups of angry Arabs with guns could count on passive support from most of the population. Not many were willing to pick up a bomb and throw their lives away, but plenty were willing to turn a blind eye to what might be going on in their villages and neighborhoods. More still relied on the clinics, schools, and sanitation that such groups provided--Hamas spent 90% of its prewar budget on such things--in the absence of a competent government, reinforcing their legitimacy.
But by now, it was a different story. Hamas was smashed, its social functions supplanted initially by the occupying peacekeepers after the war and now by the semi-competent, Jordanian-backed PA. In addition, with peace came free trade. Nearly every Palestinian now knew an Israeli or two just to say hello, and vice versa, and though few would call each other friends, the two nations traded goods daily and employment and investment across the borders was very common. Prosperity made the opportunity cost of conflict and suicide far higher, and daily interaction made it harder to dehumanize the other--the joint schools were an example. As a consequence of this, civilians’ tolerance for disruption was low, and desire for a return to the bad old days almost nonexistent. While no doubt some people still harbored such wishes, they were too few to provide effective support for those militants who survived the war and wished to keep fighting. In addition, news of the kidnapping had spread everywhere thanks to the proliferation of cellphones and 15G towers. Namoor and Yitzak were popular among the common people too, and few were those who would not help to rescue them if they could.
So it was that a night watchman in the Port of Gaza City noticed an unusual amount of activity around a run-down warehouse near the docks, and that some of the men coming and going carried AK-47s. He flagged down a squad of Singaporean peacekeepers on patrol, who used a snake cam to look inside the warehouse and found the hostages, guarded by several gunmen. They called for reinforcements, and within minutes the general’s own “special” squad was on the scene. Door charges blew, followed by flashbangs, and with Americans in the front door and Singaporeans in the side door, the terrorists were dead in a hail of bullets before they knew what was happening. The hostages were safe, and barely had time to be stunned as the shooting was over so quickly. Most of the gunmen were killed, though two survived their wounds and were taken back to Jerusalem for interrogation.
I called Namoor’s phone, which went straight to voicemail with his recording “Yo, my phone’s been taken by terrorists, you probably don’t want to leave a message. I’m changing my number when I get home.” Yitzak’s phone was simply dead.
Namoor called from his new phone the next day.
“Guess this is what it takes to get more press than you for a couple of weeks,” he joked. “Damn Yitzak, this whole trip was his idea. I said I’d never come back here after last time, didn’t I?”
“Yeah you did. What changed your mind?”
“I dunno, he showed me these Q-ratings, I had no idea I was big over there. I mean really big, like my Q-rating over there is higher than yours. Yitzak’s too. He got offered this UN Goodwill Ambassador thing and he wanted me to get it too, plus I got a couple commercial deals over there so...I thought, what the hell.”
“Indeed.”
“Actually now I’m glad I did. I’m seeing a lot more of the place than I did on our basketball trip. It’s amazing.”
Yitzak had the same number but a new phone (his old one was destroyed by a terrorist when he tried to call for help), and he was remarkably calm. “We’re gonna finish the rest of the trip. Change up the order of stuff a little bit, hire a couple of mercs as bodyguards, but we’re not running away.”
Before the last war, before the treaty, the various groups of angry Arabs with guns could count on passive support from most of the population. Not many were willing to pick up a bomb and throw their lives away, but plenty were willing to turn a blind eye to what might be going on in their villages and neighborhoods. More still relied on the clinics, schools, and sanitation that such groups provided--Hamas spent 90% of its prewar budget on such things--in the absence of a competent government, reinforcing their legitimacy.
But by now, it was a different story. Hamas was smashed, its social functions supplanted initially by the occupying peacekeepers after the war and now by the semi-competent, Jordanian-backed PA. In addition, with peace came free trade. Nearly every Palestinian now knew an Israeli or two just to say hello, and vice versa, and though few would call each other friends, the two nations traded goods daily and employment and investment across the borders was very common. Prosperity made the opportunity cost of conflict and suicide far higher, and daily interaction made it harder to dehumanize the other--the joint schools were an example. As a consequence of this, civilians’ tolerance for disruption was low, and desire for a return to the bad old days almost nonexistent. While no doubt some people still harbored such wishes, they were too few to provide effective support for those militants who survived the war and wished to keep fighting. In addition, news of the kidnapping had spread everywhere thanks to the proliferation of cellphones and 15G towers. Namoor and Yitzak were popular among the common people too, and few were those who would not help to rescue them if they could.
So it was that a night watchman in the Port of Gaza City noticed an unusual amount of activity around a run-down warehouse near the docks, and that some of the men coming and going carried AK-47s. He flagged down a squad of Singaporean peacekeepers on patrol, who used a snake cam to look inside the warehouse and found the hostages, guarded by several gunmen. They called for reinforcements, and within minutes the general’s own “special” squad was on the scene. Door charges blew, followed by flashbangs, and with Americans in the front door and Singaporeans in the side door, the terrorists were dead in a hail of bullets before they knew what was happening. The hostages were safe, and barely had time to be stunned as the shooting was over so quickly. Most of the gunmen were killed, though two survived their wounds and were taken back to Jerusalem for interrogation.
I called Namoor’s phone, which went straight to voicemail with his recording “Yo, my phone’s been taken by terrorists, you probably don’t want to leave a message. I’m changing my number when I get home.” Yitzak’s phone was simply dead.
Namoor called from his new phone the next day.
“Guess this is what it takes to get more press than you for a couple of weeks,” he joked. “Damn Yitzak, this whole trip was his idea. I said I’d never come back here after last time, didn’t I?”
“Yeah you did. What changed your mind?”
“I dunno, he showed me these Q-ratings, I had no idea I was big over there. I mean really big, like my Q-rating over there is higher than yours. Yitzak’s too. He got offered this UN Goodwill Ambassador thing and he wanted me to get it too, plus I got a couple commercial deals over there so...I thought, what the hell.”
“Indeed.”
“Actually now I’m glad I did. I’m seeing a lot more of the place than I did on our basketball trip. It’s amazing.”
Yitzak had the same number but a new phone (his old one was destroyed by a terrorist when he tried to call for help), and he was remarkably calm. “We’re gonna finish the rest of the trip. Change up the order of stuff a little bit, hire a couple of mercs as bodyguards, but we’re not running away.”
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