Vasilyeva was a fierce, powerful woman. She was able to struggle to her feet, actually pulling Patrick’s body up as she fought to free herself. The Russian clubbed his legs, swung at his groin, and snarled like a wild animal. She started to swing his body around, jumping up and down wildly in an effort to loosen his legs. He hit the walls several times and saw stars. With Patrick stunned, this time she was able to pin his legs back and land on top of him, the chain still wrapped around her neck, her face a contorted mask of pain and rage, with blood vessels breaking all over her face, making it appear as if she were wearing some sort of primitive war mask. She punched his groin, his legs, his chest, and his face, trying desperately to get him to release his grip.

Patrick was bent over in two so far by her weight that he found he was able to grab her head with his hands, tangling his fingers in her hair to help his grip. Using all his strength, he pushed with his legs. Now both of their faces were hideous contortions of pain. They both screamed in unison, loud, furious screams—until suddenly there was a loud snap! Ivana Vasilyeva’s eyes rolled sideways, her bloated dark red tongue unreeled itself from her mouth, and her body went totally limp.

Patrick lay on the floor for what seemed like a long time before untangling himself from the dead Russian, then crawled over to his wife. He carefully removed the knife from her chest, then held her lifeless body and wept.

He didn’t even notice when strong armored mechanical arms lifted him and Wendy up, carried them carefully outside, and placed them in a waiting tilt-rotor aircraft to evacuate them out of Tripoli.

ALTERNATE NATIONAL MILITARY COMMAND
 AND COMMUNICATIONS CENTER,

SIDI SALIH, LIBYA
 A SHORT TIME LATER

“My brothers and sisters, my fellow Libyans, we have been shamelessly and cowardly attacked by the great Satan, the United States of America,” Jadallah Zuwayy intoned. He was sitting in a small, cramped communications center in an underground alternate command post thirty miles south of Tripoli. ‘Tonight, while you slept peacefully in your beds, the forces of the United States, with help from their stooges the Zionists, launched a brazen sneak attack against the capital of the Kingdom of Libya, attacking the royal palace itself and killing many scores of innocent men, women, and children.”

Zuwayy raised his hands as if praying, then slowly curled them into fists. “As Allah, may His name be praised, is my witness, today the people of the Islamic world declare war upon the infidels, the destroyers, the crusaders from across the oceans who attacked our capital,” he went on. “May He deliver upon the faithful the strength to crush the enemies of Islam.