BEA FRANZ
TRAPPED IN A WORLD OF HATE AND TERROR
Thriller
COPYRIGHT
EXIT HERE Copyright©2001
by Buddhismus Stiftung Diamantweg der Karma Kagyü Linie.
Issued under the seal of the United States Copyright Office,
the Library of Congress.
Published by TUBUK digital
TUBUK digital is an imprint of Open Publishing Rights GmbH
All rights reserved. The work may only be reproduced with permission of the publisher.
Cover design: Rafal Olech
Font copyright (c) 2003 by Bitstream, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Bitstream Vera is
a trademark of Bitstream, Inc.
E-book production: Open Publishing GmbH, www.openpublishing.com
ISBN: 978-3-95595-057-6
Visit our homepage: www.tubuk-digital.de
EXIT HERE is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, event, locals, or any race or religion, is entirely coincidental.
www.facebook.com/exit.here.book
DEDICATION
For my Buddhist Teacher,
for my Lama, for my Friend,
for Lama Ole Nydahl
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My deepest and heartfelt thanks to all friends on the way who helped to make the realisation of Exit Here possible:
Anthony Hopson, Alexander Press, Astrid Ferrara Santamaria,
Berno Kuerten, Christa Albrecht, Dmitry Kudinov,
Emanuela Agostino, Eva Sencic, Irma Cantoni,
Kai Burmeister, Marco Calipari, Mikel Klein,
Milena Rimassa, Norbert Wolf, Patricia Press-Schaffrick,
Peter Arras, Peter Fasshauer, Renate Schwarz,
Rafal Olech, Sigrid Frank, Stephen James,
Tanja Boehnke, Thilo Schreiber, Vagid Ragimow,
Vanni Ferrara Santamaria, Wojtek Tracewski, Tomek Lehnert,
Victor Shmarkovsky & Jakob Sintschnig.
EPIGRAPH
Death is not a problem.
The problem is a life without meaning.
Lama Ole Nydahl
AUTHOR’S NOTE
EXIT HERE was born as an original idea for a feature film based upon Buddhist teachings about Death, Intermediary State and Rebirth as taught by Lama Ole Nydahl.
EXIT HERE is about freedom and the courage of those who protect it. The aim of the film is to show the audience how to deal with the fear of terrorist attacks, in particular, with the fear of death. Due to 9/11, the movie industry either didn’t want to touch Exit Here or just wasn’t interested in a meaningful, gripping and deeply touching story or it could be that the time wasn’t ripe for it yet. For more than 15 years the feature film project exit here lay idle to resurface like a phoenix from its ashes. Now it is available for everyone, everywhere as a thriller and fiction!
In the summer of 2001, Elista the capital city of the Republic of Kalmykia, Russia, is still characterized by the decay of Soviet-built institutions.
Old-fashioned clothing and buildings unveil life in the south of Russia. Children are playing and laughing in the street in front of the big iron door of a dilapidated three-story school. A nine-year old boy called Ivan pulls at the pigtail of a blond girl named Sveta. She starts crying. The boy approaches her apologetically and hands her some American chewing gum. She stops crying and accepts it with a smile.
A bell rings and a friendly woman, the headmistress, opens the iron door. The schoolchildren run into the building heading for the second floor.
Eight men with dark-bearded faces wrap camouflage scarves around their heads to conceal their identity. They sit in the back of a truck and load their Kalashnikovs. The truck passes the Buddhist Stupa in Elista. One of the dark bearded faces points his gun at the Stupa and hisses:
“Idols. I’ll blow it up.”
The one beside him raises his Kalashnikov:
“Later. God is great.”
The headmistress still stands by the door. A young woman crosses the street and approaches her. They shake hands. The headmistress smiles at the young woman:
“Let's meet with the children and the other teachers. They’re waiting for us in the main hall upstairs.”
The young woman hesitates. The headmistress takes the young woman's hand:
“Don't worry. The children are great. You’ll get along fine with them.”
The street in front of the school is silent and empty now, the iron door creaks in the wind. The muzzle of a Kalashnikov appears around the edge of the door followed by seven dark-bearded faces wrapped in camouflage scarves.
Russian rock music blasts from the radio of a modest apartment of the Plattenbauten – a large-panel system building in the outskirts of St. Petersburg, the second largest city in Russia.
It is 6:00 in the morning. There are cigarette butts overflowing from an ashtray on the table in the simple living room as well as several empty vodka bottles, half eaten watermelons in the garbage-can in the kitchen, evidence of a wild birthday party the night before.
Two young athletically built men, Sergey and Andrey, are arm wrestling. Sasha and Dmitry, the same type of men turn their heads as an older man named Yuri steps into the room smoking a cigarette and smiling.
Yuri is a medium-sized man, has dark hair and alert bright blue eyes. He wears a tight black t-shirt with an American slogan and black jeans. The t-shirt shows his muscular chest and strong arms. Sergey wins the arm wrestling match. Andrey is a bit embarrassed and jokingly looks up at Yuri:
“Commander, it’s unbelievable, your training methods have really helped. This child has become bloody strong.”
Yuri grins broadly: “Or you just had a glass too many.”
The others laugh. Kirill rubs a deep scar on his neck while Mikhail puts out his cigarette and grabs a guitar. Mikhail asks looking at Sergey:
“What shall I play for you then?”
Sergey, happy to celebrate his birthday with all his friends and his commander answers:
“What about Strawberry fields forever?”
Mikhail agrees pensively:
“Hmmm, an old Beatles’ song. Why not?”
Mikhail starts playing the song.
The sun sets over London, the capital city of England and the most populated city in the United Kingdom with a metropolitan area of over 13 million inhabitants.
The sun setting creates a range of the most beautiful shades of red and the big windows of the stately home at Oxford street appear to be golden.
The entrance of the building is decorated with a brass sign engraved with FireWorks International. Inside of the building on the first floor a young editor of the private television broadcasting FireWorks International is looking at the footage of The Rich & Famous together with a young woman.
It’s the celebration of an international music award in Los Angeles. White limousines drive up in front of the celebration building. The doors of a limousine open. A woman gets out. She is wearing a transparent dress.
A finger, adorned with a beautiful ring belonging to Alba Smith, an Italian-American woman in her late twenties points at the monitor. Her intense green eyes have the same intense green colour as the precious emerald of her ring. She addresses the young editor:
“Vincent, look at her! Do you know how old she is?”
Vincent amusedly answers:
“She looks like she’s 30. But she can’t be. I know that she’s been in the business for some time already.”
Alba makes a comment about the star:
“I think she looks better than ever. At least on the screen. She’s 55 actually.”
Vincent freezes the picture, although Alba continues with her comment:
“She’s living proof that expensive plastic surgery and a lot of hard work in the gym help you look young. Doesn’t she look ageless?”
Vincent pretends to be indignant:
“You may call it ageless! I think she looks like a caricature of herself when she was 30.”
A noise in the back makes Alba turn around.
In the doorway stands Cynthia Broccoli, the head of FireWorks International. She is in her late forties and wearing a provocative party dress. Cynthia edges herself into the conversation saying:
“Ageless? She spends a fortune to look like that.”
Alba who did not expect to see her boss in the TV studio looks at Cynthia puzzled: “What are you doing here? Is the party over?”
Cynthia answers that the party was quite boring and complains that her dress was not appreciated.
Alba reassures Cynthia that her new look is gorgeous and asks: “It's Vandani. Isn't it? It must have cost a fortune.”
Cynthia smiles, looks down at her dress and nods: “Well, Richard bought it for me. He likes me wearing clothes like these“. Cynthia turns around to the frozen picture on the screen saying: “We are more or less the same age. Maybe I should start to have plastic surgery as well”.
Cynthia looks at Alba puzzled. Alba does not react. Cynthia changes the subject:
“Anyway, I am not here for that. Steven had a car-accident. He’s in hospital.” Alba is concerned:
“Anything serious?” “No, fortunately not. A few bruises and a mild concussion. It means he can't fly in case there has been any damage to the blood vessels in his brain.”
Alba looks at Cynthia slightly irritatedly and asks:
“Fly where?”
“To Edinburgh. Steven was due to go to an international anti-terrorism experts meeting. Only a few journalists have been invited to participate.”
Alba nervously replies: “I still have to finish The Rich & Famous. I need to do the interviews with Harry Rocky and Count Carrano. I’m flying to New York tomorrow to see them.”
Cynthia sternly says to Alba: “You’d better cancel your flight until after the meeting in Edinburgh.“
Alba sighs and says: “Cynthia, you know how difficult it was to get time to interview those people.”
“Yes, I know. Well, Major Jefferson is Steven's contact. He’s the leader of the American delegation. He’s agreed to provide you with the missing information which Steven needed for A World of Terror. I can't send anybody else now.”
Alba insists: “You know that I’m not prepared for anything like this!”
Cynthia does not answer to Alba’s objection and instead hands Alba an envelope:
“Here’s a short briefing and your ticket.”
Alba indignantly states:
“I have never had anything to do with the world of terror and besides, it’s my mother’s 60th birthday tomorrow. You know I don’t see her so often because she lives in New York. Look!”
Alba takes a mobile phone from her handbag: “I was going to give her this present. It is her first mobile phone.”
“I’m sorry Alba, but you know how things are sometimes.”
In the background there is a loud bang. Alba jumps. Champagne bottles are being opened.
Cynthia turns around and walks out of the office.
Vincent apologises and freezes the footage tape once more.
Sergey’s mother, who is about 50 years old, comes in with a huge plate of fried potatoes and fish. She puts it on the table and listens to the last bars of the song. Her face brightens up and smiles at Mikhail:
“How wonderful. I first heard this song when I was once in the West with Sergey’s father. Nine months later Sergey was born”.
Sasha is looking at Yuri trying to be serious: “Commander, that means you are going to have to be careful. Stay away from the blondes.”
Sergey curiously asks:
“Commander, are you going abroad?”
Kirill grins at Sergey: “Your commander has been invited to Scotland to report to an international conference. He has to tell them how strong you’ve become!” Sergey seriously inquires: “Is that true?” Yuri answers with a twinkle in his eyes: “Actually, Kirill is right. I am going to talk to them about our Motherland’s contribution to their security.” Yuri clears his throat and rests his arms on the table:
“Ladies and gentlemen, instead of my speech on behalf of the Russian parliament and our president I have to inform you that we are in fact trapped in a very difficult situation. One very dangerous individual is amongst us. He’s slippery like a snake, and we never know where he is. When he has trapped you, you have no chance to get out alive.”
Sasha joins Yuri by saying: “That’s it. It's all over. We may as well prepare to die.” Sergey, still very earnest, addresses his commander: “But Captain, you have never been defeated! And none of your men have ever died. How can you talk like this?”
Yuri shakes his head and now talks about his genuine concern:
“Well, he really is one of the most difficult little toads to catch.”
A guitar string breaks. Mikhail looks up. His eyes meet Dmitry’s eyes. Dmitry expressionlessly remarks:
“Ali.”
Yuri’s eyes become ice-cold for an instant then he laughs:
“No, that’s Sergey!”
The men turn to Sergey and slap him on the back laughing. Sergey is embarrassed but flattered at the same time. Yuri pacifies: “Luckily for us he has recently joined Spetsnaz. Those terrorists don't stand a chance. Okay, the conference is over. Let Sergey get to work.” There’s much applause from Yuri’s men. Yuri grins, grabs Sergey by the shoulder, brings him to his feet and hugs him warmly. The men thank Sergey’s mother for the food and start to eat. Yuri’s pager beeps. He gets up, walks to the phone and dials a number:
“Hello, this is Captain Sokolov speaking. Yes, Sir. Immediately.” Yuri hangs up and turns to his men:
“We’re leaving.”
Immediately the men stand up, grab their jackets and leave the apartment. With a deep sigh Sergey’s mother looks at the breakfast on the table. Yuri embraces her saying:
“I’m sorry that we have to leave so soon. Sergey should be back this evening.”
The headmistress and the young woman enter the big hall on the second floor. The children get up from their chairs and look at the new teacher with curiosity. The headmistress and the teacher walk to the stage where the other five teachers stand lined up behind a table. She motions to everyone to sit down. Smiling at the young female teacher then at the children and finally at her staff she says:
“Lena Parilova is our new teacher. She has come all the way down from the north, from Murmansk, to marry Dr. Batra. Would you like to know more about Murmansk in the north of Russia?”
The children nod. Pleased, the young teacher smiles:
“Okay, children. First I will draw you a map and show you where it is.” She turns around toward the blackboard. A picture of a strange-looking beast with three blood-shot eyes and enormous fangs and holding a big wheel in his hairy paws stares down at her. Lena Parilova is surprised:
“What's that?”
Sveta stands up and responds seriously:
“That’s Yama, the Tibetan Lord of Death.”
The young female teacher looks at the headmistress. She nods. Encouraged, Sveta adds:
“He reminds us that all people and animals have to die. No one can escape death …”
The girl can’t finish the sentence. She is interrupted by seven black masked men who burst through the door, shouting commands and pointing their Kalashnikovs. They force everybody to go to one corner of the hall.
Ivan, the little boy, breaks away from the others and runs to the open door. One of the black masked men, obviously the leader moves quickly and fires into the body of the boy. The others cry helplessly with horror as the dead body falls to the ground.
The masked man who has just killed Ivan shouts:
“Shut the fuck up! On your knees, I don't want to see the faces of pigs! Heads down! Turn to the wall!”
The headmistress tearfully tries to make the children understand that they must follow their orders.
The masked man who has just killed Ivan takes out his mobile phone and says with a malicious grin:
“Good morning Mr. President. Sorry for disturbing your important business but we have a difficult situation here. Maybe you can help.”
Yuri and his men have arrived at Elista airport. Dressed in black combat overalls they jump out of the aircraft carrying their equipment in worn-out bags. Three officers escort the head of the local police as he approaches Yuri. They salute each other.
The head of the police informs Yuri: “Commander, the terrorists have changed their demands. Now they want six of their people to be released from prison in exactly 15 minutes. If we don’t comply, they’re going to shoot the first hostage, the second one 15 minutes later, then the third in three quarters of an hour.”
Yuri sums up:
“250 hostages, 6 teachers, 8 terrorists. The hostages are all on the second floor?” The head of the police agrees:
“That is correct, Commander. Seven terrorists are in the building and one is on the roof. We’ve heard shots already.”
Yuri inquires:
“Is there a three-story building nearby?”
“There’s one in the back of the school.”
The head of the police hands Yuri the floor plan of the school building and a map of the town.
Yuri asks: “Are the helicopter and ambulances ready?”
“Comrade Commander, everything is here and at your disposal”, he responds.
Followed by his men, Yuri climbs into one of the waiting police cars of the mechanized division driving the unit to the waiting helicopters.
On the way to the helicopter he studies the floor plan of the building and the map of the town.
Before the police car of the mechanized division can stop in front of the waiting helicopters Yuri’s men put on their bulletproof vests, harnesses, guns, knives, balaclavas and ready their headsets for the hostage rescue operation. They jump into one of the waiting helicopters.
Sergey is stopped by Yuri. He looks at him pointing on the map:
“Go on top of that roof! I need you to take one of the terrorists out of action. You’ve got 6 minutes from the moment you are on the roof. Use your silencer.”
Sergey salutes: “Yes, Commander.”
Sergey and two of the local policemen drive off.
The Head of Police hands Yuri his mobile phone. Yuri passes it to Dmitry. He jumps into the helicopter followed by Dmitry. The helicopter takes off.
The terrorist on the roof of the school building sees the police cars in the street and, using his mobile, calls the terrorist-leader to come downstairs in the big hall, the second floor, where the hostages are kept:
“The police are gathering behind the building.”
The terrorist leader answers: “I don't give a shit. Anyone from Spetsnaz?”
The terrorist on the roof responds:
“I don’t see any.”
The leader orders: “Keep watching!”
Sergey’s masked face appears at the edge of the roof on the building opposite the school, and within seconds he is up, takes aim and a dull sound comes from the silenced gun.
Still holding his mobile, the terrorist slumps to the floor on the roof of the school. There is a bullet hole in his forehead.
The helicopter with Yuri and his unit aboard flies up to the 3-story building behind the school complex.
Yuri looks at his watch, then announces to his men:
“I want this over and done within 8 minutes exactly!”
He and his men set their watches.
It is very hot in the big hall where the hostages are kept. The big windows are closed. The headmistress is still on her knees. She moves slightly:
“Please, we do need some water.”
The terrorist-leader hits her on the head with the butt of his Kalashnikov:
“Shut up, you old bitch!”
The headmistress collapses to the ground. The terrorist-leader kicks her in her belly while checking the time on the clock on the wall. Only now he sees the thangka. Disgusted and raged he shouts:
“Demons!”
He points his machine gun at little Sveta and jabs her in the back:
“Turn around, pig face, and get the demon!”
The little girl is petrified. She looks at the young female teacher beside her for help. The young teacher is too scared to look at her and doesn't move.
The headmistress jumps to her feet, puts herself in front of Sveta and says to the terrorist-leader:
“It belongs to me. I will …“
“Shut up, old bitch“, the terrorist-leader shouts aggressively.
The thundering noise that sounds like a helicopter flying on the building is getting louder and louder and makes him hesitate for a moment as he is about to pull the trigger of his Kalashnikov. Instead, he grabs his mobile to call the terrorist on the roof. There is no response.
The terrorist-leader gets nervous. He yells at one of his henchmen to fetch the pig face and find out what is going on outside.
One of the terrorists grabs the petrified Sveta and uses her as a human shield dragging her to one of the big windows which looks out to the street.
Meanwhile, Yuri and his men fast-rope down onto the roof of the school building. They fix lines to the structure of the roof, fasten their harnesses and start to walk backwards very quickly down the walls of the school building.
Dmitry presses a few keys on his mobile phone. The terrorist-leader's phone rings. With a flash of rage he answers and shoots at the headmistress. The bullet grazes the headmistress’s arm and she collapses to the floor once again.
Simultaneously Sergey takes aim of the terrorist standing at the window. A dull sound comes from the silenced gun. The glass of the window breaks. The terrorist slumps backwards to the floor. There is a bullet hole in his forehead.
Sveta is free. Without missing a beat she disappears behind the heavy window curtain.
More glass breaks. There is an explosion, a bright flash and a loud bang. Yuri and his men jump through the windows.
Yuri shoots the leader, who drops the mobile phone and collapses to the floor. There is confusion and fury among the terrorists. Yuri’s men are shouting on top of their lungs: “Drop your weapons! Hands on your heads! Get on your knees. On the floor!“
The furious terrorists start to shoot at random. Two of them are hit by bullets coming from Dmitry’s gun. Lifeless they fall to the floor. Another two are disarmed by Kirill and Andrey and their hands are tied. The firing stops.
Black bags are pulled over the heads of the surviving terrorists. One of the surviving terrorists cowers on the floor shivering. The smell of terror and urine permeates the air. He is crying like a child.
The head of the police, his men and the doctors run into the room.
“Five of the terrorists are dead, three are wounded. You can find them crying in the corner over there”, Yuri says and points to the dead boy:
“This child was trying to escape. One woman is wounded.”
The children are gone from inside the big hall of the school building. One of the doctors gives a signal to carry away Ivan's dead body covered by a plastic body bag. Ivan’s father stares at his son’s dead body while Ivan’s mother cries in the arms of the headmistress. The headmistress' right arm is dressed and there is a bruise on the side of her face. She gently strokes the woman's hair and leads her to her husband.
The young female teacher from Murmansk can't stop crying. The other doctor gives her an injection to calm her down. The young female teacher confesses to the doctor with a tearful voice:
“I am so ashamed! I was a coward. I didn't help Sveta, I was so afraid of dying.”
The headmistress approaches and with compassion says to the young teacher:
“Don’t worry. Most people are afraid of death.”
Yuri, still masked, enters the hall with Sveta, holding the girl's hand.
The headmistress approaches Yuri and says:
“Thank you for saving our lives.”
Yuri nods: “It looks like you are one of the few people I know who aren't afraid of dying. Sveta told me that you saved her life. They could have easily killed you. You must have a good protection.” “Yes, Captain. I do.”
The headmistress produces a plastic-coated photograph that she wears next to her heart and hands it to Yuri.
He takes a look at it. It shows a man with bright blue eyes, short blond hair and who looks very strong. Sveta, raising her eyes to Yuri, and asks:
“Do protectors always have blue eyes? I think they do.” Still with the photograph in his hands, Yuri slowly takes off his mask. His bright blue eyes look first at Sveta and then at the headmistress who says smiling:
“This man brought back the religion of the Kalmucks that Stalin destroyed. He can protect you just as he protects me. He is a perennial protector.”
Yuri answers firmly: “Perennial protector? I have this to protect me!”
He points at his gun and shows his bullet-proof vest.
The chief of the police approaches Yuri with his mobile phone in his hand: “Commander, the President would like a word.”
Yuri nods and hands the photograph back to the headmistress. She stops him:
“Keep it, please. As a soldier you have no idea how long you will live.”
Yuri’s eyes catch the picture of Yama. He looks at it for a moment, thanks the headmistress and slides the photo in his pocket while answering the President’s call.