1 Chapter 1: The White Mouse

1.1.2022

The yawning sun began awakening, rising to highlight the natural

beauty of the Arabian desert area, Fata Morgana, near the territory

held by the Democratic Organization. Close to the scattered Bedouin

tents, the desert kings were roaming peacefully; camels, sheep and

donkeys greeted each other with, "Ahlan wa sahlan" which is Arabic

for "Welcome", with their moaning, bleating, and braying.

Barney opened his eyes slowly, rubbing them sleepily. At the same

time, the blows he was receiving from the side of the helicopter struck

his head from every angle and helped his brain to regain its regular

activity that, at times, was normal and predictable, but was usually

unpredictable and insane.

Everyone in the helicopter watched curiously, their eyes softened with

smiles of sympathy, when the White Mouse,– the notorious facility

that served as a prison and mental hospital for the craziest and most

dangerous prisoners – appeared in front of them. The building was

dirty and ugly, and the stench was unbearable. In Fata Morgana, the

stained white colors were in extreme contrast to the vast brown desert

that spread out like a wall in every direction, preventing anyone from

escaping the facility. From the corner of his eye, Barney noticed that,

as usual, Monro was dressed in a military combat suit, decorated with

camouflage patches of bright ochre, with row upon row of false

honors and medals for bravery, which, according to him, he had

received for his participation in obscure, unknown, and unfamiliar

battles. He wore a stylish striped combat hat on his head.

Suddenly, the underbelly of the helicopter opened, and from within,

Monro's heavies stepped out and scrutinized everyone: the members

of the government, the guests, and the worldwide press. The

ceremonial band waited anxiously on the concrete surface, near the

entrance to the facility. Several microphones had been set up nearby,

on a little podium decorated with awful colors. It stood on a long red

carpet that extended to the helicopter landing pad. The heavies

finished inspecting all the people and checked what was going on

around them. Again they asked each other:

"Is everything okay, Grisha and Boris?"

"Yes, all fine. Is everything okay, Alex and Nicolai?"

"Yes, Grisha and Boris here. All okay."

"Yes, Alex and Nicolai here. Everything is fine.

Is everything okay, Ivan and Oleg?"

"Yes, Ivan and Oleg here. All okay. Is everything okay, Grisha and

Boris?"

Grisha and Boris answered angrily, "Idiots, you already asked us

that." Grisha turned to Monro and stupidly, he saluted him.

"President Monro, everything is okay. We can leave the helicopter

now."

Monro tried to leave the helicopter, but the heavies stopped him,

checking his appearance. Then, everyone exited the aircraft behind

Monro and the heavies, who checked everything constantly,

continuously bothering each other with their hysterical worries and

dumb questions, as if any minute, aliens would appear from outer

space to assassinate Monro.

Barney stared curiously at the two characters approaching them from

the prison gate. They seemed familiar to Barney. They both saluted

Monro and the higher-ranking one turned to him politely.

"Hello, Honorable President. I am Chief Warden Blaffof," he said,

then indicating his companion, "and this is my deputy, the greatest

thief of all, the rabbi Joves from New York. Welcome to the White

Mouse facility. Usually, those who enter these gates never leave them

again."

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Monro flinched at this last remark and looked at both of them with

contempt. "I am Monro the Great, the chosen Monro, I'm not scared

of anybody, not even in this place."

Prof. Cheers whispered in Monro's ear, "That was a joke, Mr.

President. Take it as a joke!"

Monro started laughing crazily and slapped Blaffof's shoulder

forcefully with a karate chop that almost made the chief warden lose

his balance.

"Don't worry, President Monro. He meant the criminals and the mad

people who come here, not the politicians."

Blaffof and his deputy slapped one another on the back, giggling like

schoolgirls. Only then did Barney remember that those two clowns

had once been among the leading kings of fraud and corruption

worldwide. Therefore, he turned to Yeats, whispering,

"Tell me, I remember that Blaffof was sentenced to 150 years and the

rabbi – I do not remember how many years he got. So what are they

doing here, holding the important positions of prison warden and

deputy?"

Yeats smiled arrogantly and said to him proudly.

"Their lawyers suggested a plea bargain. Instead of letting them rot in

prison, they suggested these two be allowed to serve as warden and

deputy, on the condition that they return as much of the stolen money

as they can. I suggested to Monro that he accept without hesitation.

I'm a genius; don't you agree?"

Barney's shock was complete. "Of course, everyone knows you are a

genius, Yeats. But how do you know they will not escape at the very

first opportunity?"

"Are you mad? They will never do that. Each one of them, like all of

the prisoners has an electronic ankle monitor. One more thing, if they

try to escape, they will be caught and returned to the facility to face

Itzhak Begerano

life sentences as prisoners, rather than living a life of luxury as

warden and deputy."

"And where are the keys to their electronic anklets?"

"What kind of an idiotic question is that! Of course, like at every

another prison worldwide, they are held by the prison warden and his

deputy, here at the prison office."

Suddenly, everyone raised their eyes towards the sky at the loud and

annoying sound of Aswad's helicopter approaching.

Yeats screamed at the orchestra, "Ready everyone!"

Monro signaled to the journalists that they should come over and

listen to him. He said, "The new President of the Free Islamic Forces

seized power in a bloody military revolution. They eliminated their

enemies, both internal and external, with anthrax poisoning, bird flu,

swine flu, camel flu, donkey flu, and a range of other diseases. Finally,

he took Mike Satanic under his wing. Satanic was a former Israeli

who converted to Islam and became the notorious and elusive Caesar

of Terror. Aswad sent him to burn and eliminate his competitor's

largest oil wells, and thanks to his successful completion of the task,

the powers of the Free Islamic Forces became the largest, in fact, the

sole suppliers of oil throughout the world. Aswad became their

exporter and the richest billionaire among the oil powers."

The humongous helicopter, adorned with symbols of the Free Islamic

Forces, landed near them. Monro, the bodyguards, the members of the

government, and the interpreter waited near the aircraft. When the

door opened, President Aswad stepped out, wearing a black military

hat, an army uniform, similar to Monro's, with camouflage print and

medals of honor and bravery, all of which were the fruits of his

productive imagination. He was accompanied by several members of

his government, the Islamic media, and his interpreter. Photographers

from all over the world began shooting with their cameras. To their

disgust, Monro and Aswad were forced to shake hands in front of the

press and kiss one another on the cheek, with expressions of distaste

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on their faces. The two interpreters introduced the two much-lauded

presidents and the members of their governments, who refrained from

looking at each other, preferring just to exchange a quick symbolic

handshake. The two leaders walked toward the podium, greeting one

another with obvious revulsion, exchanging false pleasantries, whilst

on the inside, each was praying for the other's death. Their mutual

questions about each other's health were empty, quite devoid of

sincerity.

"How are things, your Honor?" ….

"Are things going as you wish, your Honor?"

"How are you doing?" …

"How are you?" …

They both sighed with relief and satisfaction when they were finally

standing on the podium, each holding a nicely wrapped package.

Monro held a small model of a camel, with Aswad's face on it. He

handed it to him saying:

"Take this small gift from the people of the Selected Democratic

Organization and me." He thought with a smile, "I would have

preferred to give you poison…, you asshole."

Aswad smiled an empty smile, with no connection to the moment, and

seemed pleased and happy for no apparent reason.

"Thank you, my dear brother, Honorable President Monro." …But

meanwhile, he was thinking smugly: "It's a pity that Hitler did not

exterminate you and the rest of the democrats along with the Jews."

He handed Monro a miniature statue of a pig, whose face resembled

Monro's. "Take this humble gift from me and the people of the Free

Islamic Forces, who admire and love you."

Itzhak Begerano

They shook hands once again, with mutual smiles of contempt for the

applause. Monro whispered to Aswad, "I hope you will continue

supplying oil to the Selected Democratic Organization and stop

raising its price as Mr. Aziz, your predecessor did."

"I hope you will keep sending us your agriculture and grain exports

and stop manipulating and fucking with us," said Aswad.

"Of course, President Aswad, you will not be disappointed," he said.

"I wish the oil drilling tower would fall on you and crush you, you

thief, extortionist, and liar."

"Of course, Mr. Monro, all will be fine," said Aswad, "I hope you are

swallowed up and chopped into pieces by a combine harvester, you

thief and liar."

Barney stared at them curiously, wondering what they were hiding as

they continued smiling at one another. They reminded him of two

poisonous snakes. Aswad laid a fatherly hand on Monro's shoulder,

while the latter instinctively prepared to do a karate move. "Maybe we

should go inside."

Monro's response scared Aswad for a second, but the latter calmed

down when he sensed Monro's embarrassment.

"I want to see the condition of the Arab prisoners. I hope that your

prison warden is treating them well," said Aswad.

"Okay, Mr. Aswad. Let us go inside. You will see there is nothing to

worry about." He chuckled. "You will see that the Arabs receive better

treatment than the prisoners from the Selected Democratic

Organization."

Suddenly Aswad turned to Monro and pleaded: "Dear Mr. Monro,

Honorable President, would you be gracious enough to make a small

gesture, in honor of the good relations between us and our countries.

Please release Mr. Mike Satanic and hand him over to us… He

deserves to be in the prison of the Free Islamic Forces". He smiled

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sarcastically at the cameras. "Give peace between the Free Islamic

Forces and the Democrats a chance."

Monro answered through clenched teeth: "Chosen, brave, and smart

President Aswad, your sweet Mike Satanic, was responsible for

blowing up magnificent buildings and massacring innocent people

without discretion. I will never release such a despicable terrorist."

They glared at one another, pure hatred in their eyes. Then, as if by

magic, they suddenly smiled sweetly at one another, putting on a

show for the cameras, and continued with their diplomatic and

political routine. Monro turned to the journalists with a sweet smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press, if you have any questions, now is

the time."

The journalist of the Democratic Organization asked Monro: "How do

you see the relationship between these two countries?"

Monro replied all smiles. He said, "I'm the new leader of the

Democrats and I seek peace and understanding with President Aswad

and the Free Islamic Forces."

Aswad responded, "And I'm the leader and general of the Arabs and

Muslims who are looking for truth and happiness in their world, and

especially within the Selected Democratic Organization."

A democratic journalist who was standing close to Monro asked: "Mr.

Aswad, the world would like to know why you don't allow the

Nuclear Weapons Control Committee or any other control committee

to check your reactors?"

Aswad grabbed the microphone and said, "Bullshit, the Atomic,

Chemical, Bacterial, Cosmic and Galactic Control Committees can

check whatever they desire. The reactors you mentioned are the

elaborate installations of the Islamic Forces which we are using to try

to produce gold artificially, synthetically, and microbiologically. We

would like to be the first ones in the world to succeed in the

production of artificial gold."

Itzhak Begerano

Another democratic reporter screamed, scarcely able to contain his

rage, "How is that relevant? What is this nonsense about producing

gold?"

Aswad chuckled. "Producing gold is considered nonsense? What

about the Democratic Organization that already has nuclear weapons

for use against the Islamic Forces? Is that nonsense? We will produce

gold missiles, gold airplanes, and gold submarines. We will become

the world's largest gold empire."

Monro responded, "Mr. Aswad if the Nuclear Weapons Control committee does not check your new reactors, we will acquire reactors

similar to yours. We will also produce gold as you do, but free gold

that is better than your gold."

Aswad was furious. "I don't want to hear about the reactors and gold

anymore. Enough with the questions. God elected me to lead the

Islamic Forces forever." He stated assertively: "We must continue;

let's go inside."

The prison warden took out his cell phone and spoke with the guards

in a loud voice. The guards opened the gates with a dreadful creaking

sound while one of the Islamic president's entourage handed him the

leather briefcase he had been carrying until then. President Aswad

took the briefcase and put it under his arm, then he continued walking

with his entourage, towards the open prison gate. One of the guards at

the gate pointed at the briefcase and mumbled: "Mr. Aswad, you are

not allowed to bring a briefcase inside the prison." The Islamic

interpreter explained to the president what the guard had just said.

Barney eyed the briefcase with suspicion and fear. Aswad looked

stunned and a feeling of contempt rose up within him. He looked at

the guard suspiciously, then at the prison warden and Monro, and

said: "What do you think? That I have an atomic, chemical, or

bacteriological bomb in the briefcase? Are you Democrats so paranoid

and quick to accuse me? You have decided that I am the devil, right?"

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Everyone was stunned at his exaggerated reaction. Yeats jumped

forward toward President Aswad. "You are wrong, Mr. Aswad.

Everything is fine, Mr. President; you can bring your briefcase inside.

"This guard is stoned; he has just smoked a little pot and was

probably bribed."

The democrats were afraid that this rough and awkward incident

would cause some serious diplomatic incident, but the Islamic

president raised his hand and replied, pale-faced: "It's not okay; I'm

furious! I feel like canceling everything and going back to the Free

Islamic Forces." His assistant whispered something in his ear, and

finally, he said jokingly:: "But there is nothing for me to do; you are a

country of suspicious, nervous instigators and agitators. You are a

Democratic Organization of nutcases and paranoids."

Aswad opened the suitcase with a blank face that, for a brief moment,

appeared mean, and showed everyone the laptop that was inside.

"This is a laptop, a gift to my friend, Mike Satanic, see? There are no

explosives, no atomic, chemical, or bacteriological missiles. You can

calm down now."

Everyone sighed with relief and they all entered the prison. Barney,

Yeats, and Prof. Cheers stared at each other uncomfortably. Monro

and Aswad, each still suspicious of the another, smiled awkwardly,

like hungry cannibals. Aswad was in a good mood; he laughed with

incomprehensible enjoyment and patted Monro on the shoulder.

"Everything is fine, Mr. President. You don't know how much I

appreciate you and the Selected Democratic Organization. I'm glad I

came to visit you."

"Of course, Mr. President," Monro said and patted Aswad's shoulder.

"Everything is fine." Laughing, he added, "As they say in Arabic,

ahlan wa sahalan. I'm also happy to have you here."

Monro mumbled under his breath: "May you burn in hell forever."

Itzhak Begerano

The final iron door at the entrance to the facility opened, and

everyone entered. Then the door closed behind the last man.

"Mr. Monro," Aswad said jokingly, "I hope that at the end of the visit,

you will let us out of here. I hope we are not your prisoners forever?"

Monro laughed. "Just behave nicely, and we will let you go. If you

create problems, we will forcefully detain you, or perhaps even hang

you."

Everyone laughed. Monro whispered into Yeats' ear:

"Listen, and do exactly as I say, immediately. Build two new nuclear

facilities that are identical to Aswad's nuclear facilities; build them

near the existing reactors. Take some people, as many as you need,

from the unemployment office, and place them in the new facilities.

Dress them in white lab coats and goggles, so they look like scientists.

Cover and disguise the existing reactors. The new buildings should be

made of plaster; also, use plaster to cover and disguise the existing

ones. Complete the job within two weeks. Take as many people as

you need: unemployed, sick, and handicapped people, soldiers before

enlistment, and even enlisted men." He chuckled. "Use however

many people you need."

The minister of defense looked shocked. "But—"

Monro looked at him with the eyes of a threatening lion.

"Okay, Mr. Monro. We will take care of that ASAP."

Monro continued frightening the minister of defense. "If needed, in

the meantime, create a fake picture of how everything should look

after it has been built and hide the old one. Then publicize it in the

media all over the world. Why do we have computers, graphic artists,

special software, Photoshop, Facebook, Google, and YouTube? Please

recruit the entire media for that. This is an emergency."

The minister of defense nodded his head. Aswad handed the briefcase

to one of his assistants. A shout of astonishment burst from

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everybody's mouths at the excessively shiny and polished appearance

of the interior of the facility. The deputy warden opened the door to

the warden's office, and everyone walked in and crowded together

uncomfortably. Within the spacious room, the guards sat watching the

big TV monitors in front of them, that showed different areas of the

prison: the prison yard, kitchen, showers, clinic, gym, prisoners' cells,

the closed ballroom, corridors, and library. It also showed the

positions of the guards on the towers all around the prison. Barney felt

sick at the sight of the people inside who would never come out.

Monro stood there, smiling at everyone in an arrogant pose. He said,

"Be aware that this is the most sophisticated facility in the world, and

all thanks to me. Everything in here is modern and new, and it was

purchased with my money."

Yeats whispered arrogantly, "But your Honor, we built this facility

from with government funds. Did you forget?"

Monro got angry and screamed at him. "I don't want anyone to

interrupt me while I'm speaking! Shut up! Everybody knows that this

place exists thanks to my money, the money of Monro, the chosen

one. And if anyone dares to interrupt me one more time, he will stay

in this prison for good – he will enjoy a free holiday here for the rest

of his life."

They were all taken aback and lowered their faces to the ground.

Monro smiled at the look of shock on Aswad's face.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President. I have the most professional prison guards,

the most sophisticated systems, and, of course, during the five years

that this prison has existed, no one has escaped, and no one will

succeed in escaping. Nobody who ends up here will ever get out,

except in a coffin on his way to a better world."

The main screen revealed one significant, closed room that looked

different from the rest. Aswad pointed at it curiously.:

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He asked, "To whom does this wonderful room belong? How many

prisoners stay in it? How many Arabs, Americans, or ones from other

countries? How many guards? Show us the yard."

"Here, we have male and female prisoners and also mental patients,

including thirty Arabs from all countries, ninety Democrats from all

countries, twenty foreigners, and thirteen on-duty staff. The room you

asked about belongs to the most famous prisoner in the world, Mike

Satanic."

The chief warden answered with pride, while Barney noticed that

Aswad's face became rigid and bitter. Everyone's attention turned to

the screen that showed the prison yard. They all moved closer to the

screen and stared at it with their mouths wide open, astonished, and

confused. The sight of the characters who appeared on the screen

illustrated reality, but they all saw the most prominent individuals in a

surprisingly different light: Every pair of eyes watching the scene was

captivated, astounded and unable to respond.

President Aswad asked with astonishment, "Some of the people in this

yard are famous, but there are some who are no longer with us. They

are not alive, so what's going on here?"

"You are right, Mr. President," Prof. Cheers said.

"But they are not who they appear to be. All were regular people who

wanted to become famous and did everything to impress the world,

but when they understood that nobody was paying attention to them,

they went crazy."

"That's enough!" Monro shouted, and turned to Barney, "Tell

President Aswad some jokes to allow him to forget the patients and

this place."

"This is a joke for the honored president." Barney suddenly recalled a

joke he had told his beloved Elena a week ago, and immediately he

began to tell it to Aswad, without thinking about the nature of his joke

and its punchline.

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"A Christian, a Muslim, and a Jew go for a walk and find a trunk full

of dollar notes in an alley. Each claims it as his. Finally, they decide to

turn to the mayor, so he can determine who it belongs to. They tell the

mayor what happened. He takes a piece of chalk, draws a circle on the

floor, and says that anyone who can prove that he should be allowed

to keep more money than the other two will get it all. The Christian

announces that he would throw the money in the air. Whatever falls

within the circle he takes it.. Whatever falls outside the circle belongs

to God. The Muslim says that he would throw the money in the air,

and whatever falls outside the circle is his, and the rest belongs to

God. They were certain that the Jew would not be able to come up

with a new idea for the money, but the Jew surprised them by

announcing that he would throw all the money in the air. "Whatever

God wants, he will take, and whatever falls on the floor is mine."

President Monro's entourage cracked up laughing; Barney laughed at

his joke and was incredibly pleased with himself. He surely looked

like a mental patient who was waiting for applause. Aswad looked at

him and screamed at him in disgust: "You are not ashamed to

humiliate Islam in my presence? You, like always, think that the dumb

Islamic people should be made a laughing-stock?"

Monro's entourage became quiet, their faces filled with

embarrassment.

"I promise you that one day, we, the Arabs, will humiliate you without

consideration or mercy, to the point when you would choose death

over suffering at the hands of the Muslims."

"My apologies, your honorable President, my foolish friend didn't tell

the joke well." Prof. Cheers panicked, glaring angrily at Barney's

pale, shaking body.

"He is just a dumb fool. He got confused because he is so stupid. He

meant to say that the Jew spoke second, and the Muslim was the one

who said he would throw the money in the air and take whatever God

didn't take. The Muslim triumphed over the Christian and the Jew."

Itzhak Begerano

Barney wanted to bury himself under the dark mountains. He cursed

the moment he was born and was sure that only he could cause a new

war between the Selected Democratic Organization and the Free

Islamic Forces – one that would turn into the Third World War. He

was not sure that President Aswad bought what Prof. Cheers said,

even though she had probably saved the situation.

President Aswad studied Barney with suspicion, wishing he could kill

him, and mumbled with disgust: "Okay, I got you. Let's continue; let's

go to my dear friend Mike Satanic's room."

They continued walking in silence, down the long corridor, until they

reached the end, then they turned right, and then left until finally, they

were standing in front of a gnarled door, on which the words "No

Entry" were written, in English, Arabic, and Russian. Barney didn't

know where they were standing, innocently believing that it was a

regular room for VIP prisoners. The prison warden buzzed the

intercom and asked for permission to enter. The camera that was

placed on the ceiling above the door focused on everyone, and the

door opened wide. Had he not seen this room with his own eyes, he

would not have believed that such a room could exist in a place like

this. The guests stared at it with astonishment, enthusiasm. Shouts of

"Wow!" burst out of their mouths at the sight of an amazingly

organized and furnished room that was nicer than Monro's office at

the Democratic Presidential House.

Blaffof explained with puffed-up pride, "Welcome to the room of the

Caesar of Terror, Mike Satanic, who was caught by the CIA and

Mossad in Germany, with a false identity. He was secretly transported

to Demos, the capital of the Selected Democratic Organization, and

was sentenced to ten life sentences without parole. The adjacent

rooms are reserved for his security people who also served as his

secretaries, wives, and mistresses, who sleep with him every night,

one girl or two, or three, or four at a time, as many as he pleases.

"Mike Satanic is a man whose assets are currently estimated at

USD1.5 billion. The Selected Democratic Organization also regularly

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places the helicopter at his disposal. Mike Satanic occasionally takes

the helicopter for a ride, accompanied by his guards, the prison

warden, his deputy, and some prison guards. He already knows the

entire surrounding area. The putz enjoys looking at us from above."

Everyone burst out laughing. The room, which was sixty-five feet

long and thirty-three feet wide, was furnished with Persian and

Chinese carpets, that were later discovered to be fake. The walls were

painted with the latest colors; there were new, sophisticated air

conditioners that cooled or warmed the room, according to his wishes.

The room was divided into two equal parts. In the back corner was a

luxurious, electric canopy bed, and on the opposite side was a 150-

inch 3-D TV, with a fantastic bathtub beside it, an amazing Jacuzzi, a

closet, and washbasins. The front corner was a copy of a hi-tech

CEO's office. Satanic was sitting behind an impressively large, solid

executive desk, on an executive chair of high-quality leather. He was

flanked by six Arabs in suits, his tough, fearsome bodyguards. In front

of him, beside the desk, were three empty chairs of high-quality

leather for his guests. On the table were desktop computers, portable

computers, tablets, land-line phones, and a smartphone, along with

various accessories. There were large TV screens on the wall opposite

him, broadcasting from all the world capitals. His six

secretaries/mistresses sat at desks along the walls, dressed elegantly in

the latest styles, wearing veils over their faces, and typing on their

portable computers. The Islamic-Democratic group stood looking at

the scene in front of them, astonished. The Caesar of Terror, Satanic,

in a gallabiyah and a keffiyeh, stood up and walked toward President

Aswad with his hands extended for a hug. The latter reciprocated his

gesture and asked, "How are you, my dear friend, my beloved brother,

the new prophet of the Islamic Kingdom?"

They hugged warmly and kissed each other on the cheek.

Mike Satanic asked: "And how are you, my dear friend, my beloved

brother Suleiman Aswad, the new prophet of the Islamic kingdom, the

leader of the Islamic army? Did you remember to bring me a gift?"

Itzhak Begerano

The president opened the briefcase and presented the laptop to him

"My good friend, my dear brother, please accept this humble gift.

This is Mickmack's latest laptop."

"Thank you, my dear brother. I accept your gift with love and

affection and humility, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

The Caesar of Terror bowed slightly and laid the briefcase on his

desk.

President Aswad approached Monro. "Mr. President, I would also like

to introduce to you a truly outstanding person, precious and tireless. I

am talking about Mike Satanic. He is your most important prisoner

here."

Monro approached the Caesar of Terror with his six bodyguards,

while the Caesar of Terror approached him with his six heavies.

Monro shook the Caesar of Terror's hand, smiling condescendingly.

President Aswad stood in front of them with a suspicious and devious

smile on his lips. The 12 bodyguards eyed each other like hawks. It

seemed they couldn't wait to knock one another's heads off.

"Mr. Warden," whispered Aswad, "my dear brother Satanic, told me

on the phone, several days ago, that you promised to organize a

masquerade ball for the prisoners instead of the Halloween party.

Why has that not yet taken place? Because you didn't manage to

prepare masks for the prisoners? I am not interested in reporting this

to the United Nations. But this is a rude and blatant negation of

prisoner's rights. I demand that the ball be organized immediately, and

I have even brought masks for all the prisoners. They are in my

helicopter."

The prison warden and his deputy whispered to each other, clearly

embarrassed. Monro feared the media reaction regarding the

masquerade ball fiasco.

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"It's a pity I didn't know about that. Take the masks that the

honorable President Aswad brought and prepare the ball immediately,

for tomorrow at noon. If you need any help, I will make sure it's taken

care of. Please come to me with any requests you might have," said,

Monro, somewhat impatiently. "I think that we've been here long

enough. Let's go."

Everyone left the facility with a sigh of relief. When they got outside,

some of the prison guards were pushing wheelbarrows laden with

large boxes of masks for the ball, which they had fetched from the

helicopter. President Aswad took his leave of Monro with artificial

friendliness and the obligatory kisses. His physical aversion was clear

to see, and his smile was ostentatious, plastered, frozen on his face.

Monro smiled back at him arrogantly.

"Mr. President, if you would come to visit us at the Selected

Democratic Organization for a few days, I would love to have you at

my estate and to show you some beautiful places." I will take you to a

slaughterhouse, so you know what your fate is.

"I would have gladly accepted your invitation," Aswad patted him on

the shoulder, the smile disappearing from his face immediately, "but I

must go back. I would love to visit you next time. I'm sure it will be

soon," he murmured. Monro replied under his breath: … "I'll make

sure that the gates of hell are waiting for you."

A few minutes later, Aswad's helicopter disappeared into the distance,

on its way to Muslimania, the capital of the Free Islamic Forces.

Monro, Barney, and all the members of the government got into their

helicopter and flew to Demos, the capital of the Selected Democratic

Organization.

The cabinet secretary reminded them: "Don't forget that we have a

government meeting at 10 a.m. tomorrow, where will discuss the

country budget."

Monro remembered something and stopped him, saying: "The

government meeting has been postponed, canceled. Tomorrow

Itzhak Begerano

morning, we are going to meet some of my special friends at the most

secret facility; you can bring along your wives." Smiling his devious

smile, he said, "It will be an unforgettable day."

Yeats said, "Maybe we can do it another day. There is an important

meeting tomorrow. It's best not to postpone it because—"

"It's all set for tomorrow, and I'm not canceling it now! The country

issues are less important than my good friends and me."

Everyone nodded apathetically, like a troop of puppets on invisible

strings. Barney did not care about the rest of the people and what was

going to happen the next day. Since they had left the White Mouse,

his brain had been humming like a beehive.

Barney felt chills crawling up his aching spine, that hurt constantly. A

frightening black cloud of the unknown that was about to happen

undermined the thoughts that pounded furiously at his temples, until

he finally gave in to the sweet, long-awaited oblivion of sleep.

To be continued

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