Joel Rosenberg Quotes

The question shouldn't be "Why are you, a Christian, here in a death camp, condemned for trying to save Jews?' The real question is "Why aren't all the Christians here?

Yea, though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil, for I am the meanest son of a bitch in the valley.

What type of car do I get?" David asked. "As we like to say in the Middle East," Zalinsky said, "We'll blow up that bridge when we get to it.

Whatever you want too much you can't have, so when you really want something, try to want it a little less.

Evil, unchecked, is the prelude to genocide. - Anonymous

books are burned, they will, in the end, burn people, too.

Religion was dangerous, anti-intellectual, a crutch for the masses, and a game for the foolish, the poor, and the hypocrites. (Jacques Miroux)

I want you to tell them my little story, and then tell them the good news-that when you know Christ, you know there's something better coming.

What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?

To misunderstand the nature and threat of evil is to risk being blindsided by it,

It’s not for us to choose our times, Jacob. But we must be ready when they come.

Jesus said, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me.

The real test of a man is not when he plays the role that he wants for himself, but when he plays the role destiny has for him.

We are living on the brink of the apocalypse, but the world is asleep. JOEL ROSENBERG

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him.

the Lord may very well have removed His blessing from America the moment America stopped blessing us.

Maybe he who dies with the most toys doesn’t win, thought Bennett. Maybe he’s just dead.

Well, Jesus also said, ‘Why do you call Me, “Lord, Lord,” and do not do what I say?’ I guess it’s always more important to do what Jesus says on a tactical, moment-to-moment basis, than to just do whatever you want, even if it seems like the right thing to do.

Skepticism in the face of even the most impressive intelligence analysis was not only justified but essential. Groupthink, by contrast, was dangerous, especially when it came to national security. Too

The Possibility of somebody emerging as a nuclear power or events happening that surprise us on the nuclear stage is still a possibility. It always will be because there's an awful lot going behind the scenes. Our intelligence just has to get better on the score. -Peter Goss.

The possibility of somebody emerging as a nuclear power or events happening that surprise us on the nuclear age is still a possibility. It always will be because there's an awful lot going on behind the scenes. Our intelligence just has to get better on that score. Peter Goss

I thought of Matt. I thought of Yael. I thought of the decision I’d made on the plane to finally accept what I already knew in my heart to be true. I thought of the verse about what true love looks like—laying down your life for others.

What an honor to be chosen to care for God’s chosen people.” Luc reflected on that for the next few days. He hadn’t really thought about it as an honor. It just seemed the right thing to do. The Bible commanded him to love his neighbors. Weren’t these his neighbors, even if they didn’t believe the same things he believed?

I'm not saying I was scared. Okay, I was scared. He had an MP5. I had a Nikon.

yet what choice did he have? Nothing about this war was fair. Nothing about being Jewish was fair, The only question that counted was whether he wanted to live or not, and he did.

There are two critically important prophecies about the future of Iran in the last days. The first is found in Jeremiah 49:35-39.

Evil, unchecked, is the prelude to genocide.

We serve a prayer-hearing and a prayer-answering God, a wonder-working God!” he loved to say. “And answered prayer is one of the ways we experience him.

Whoever destroys, a soul, it is considered as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world. - Avraham Weisz (from the Talmud)

In that instant, Gogolov feared death. He could feel himself falling through the dark void of space. He was flailing and terrified and utterly alone. He braced for impact, but it never came. He cried for mercy he would never see. He felt the searing heat and the demons ripping at his eyes and face with claws like razors. And then, in a terrifying flash of clarity, he realized it would never end.

U.S. government infrastructure. I am concerned about the growing number of Americans who have been recruited to Islam. They are usually angry young men with a sense of hopelessness. Even if they are not suicidal, they may very well be genocidal as well as eager to seek revenge for what they see as injustice.

All stress is self-induced, he reminded himself. It’s in your mind. You don’t need it. Lay it down. Panic is contagious. But so is calm. Stay calm. Do your work. Slow is smooth. Smooth is smart. Smart is straight. Straight is deadly.

I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, naval architecture, navigation, commerce and agriculture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry and porcelain. —John Adams

Other believers had suffered in this country. Others had died at these hands, and hands like them. Jesus had suffered far worse. He had suffered and bled and died for her. For her sins. To set her free. To adopt her as a child into His family. To bring her into His Kingdom. Forever. How could she not be willing to suffer and bleed and die for Him? If that's what He asked, she would do it. With the strength He gave her. Be the grace He provided. And maybe she would see Him soon, face-to-face.

They effectively gave us what amounts to $150 billion, and for what? To buy our assurances that we would stop enriching uranium for a decade? To rent our promise not to build any nuclear warheads? Why would we have said no? The whole thing was a farce. We were not even asked —how does the saying go? —to sign on the dotted line.

By grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.

Where books are burned, they will, in the end, burn people, too.

Or maybe he should always just expect the worst. Most often he would be right, and the few times he was not, at least he would be pleasantly surprised.

Iran also continues to provide seemingly “limitless support” to the Hezbollah terror organization in Lebanon. In 2006,

Why are you, a Christian, here in a death camp, condemned for trying to save Jews?’ The real question is ‘Why aren’t all the Christians here?

others

me?” “What

2 days to the U.N.

Parlez-vous français, aussi?

the world must never know the things we do here,colonel. Never. Do i make myself clear?

rebels captured that base and

We are living on the brink of the apocalypse, but the world is asleep.” Joel C. Rosenberg

throat.

in damages to the families of the American victims. Yet

you will remember this number. you will memorize it. you will answer when it is called. you have no name any longer. just a number. any prisoner who forgets his number or doesn't respond when his number is called will be shot. do you understand?

ground shake violently beneath her feet. She could hear the deafening blast. She could suddenly feel the scorching heat. She had enough time to realize that her best efforts to protect the president had failed, that it was over, and then, sure enough, it was.

Jacob remembered it distinctly because it was his twenty-second birthday, and he was annoyed at being awakened by his uncle at 1:17 in the morning. But Avi had no time to be sentimental. He ordered Jacob to hightail it with him through a bone-chilling winter night to get to some safe house they’d never been to before and make it there by the top of the hour. Jacob had been hoping to sleep in a little and maybe eat a half-decent meal before sitting down to plan the sabotage of a radio tower near Antwerp, an operation scheduled for the coming weekend. But none of that was to be.

It seemed that a prodigious cloud of toxic, nervous, and paralysing gas had engulfed the country. Everything was unravelling, falling to pieces and being thrown into panic like a machine that was drunk, everything was taking place as if it was part of an indescribable nightmare. ANDRÉ MORIZE

now she was doing what she did best—serving those who needed her most. She was remarkable that way, Luc thought. It was a gift she had, and he loved to see her use it. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her comfort each guest and get them settled in the living room or the dining room.

John 1:12 says, ‘As many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name.’ And the apostle Paul told us in Ephesians, ‘By grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.

Elam is one of the ancient names of Iran, just like Persia. The passage tells us that in the last days, God will scatter the people of Iran all over the earth. For many centuries, this seemed impossible because we Persians are such a proud and nationalistic people. But as incredible as it was, this prophecy actually began to come to pass in 1979.

Why, Uncle?” Jacob asked. “Why are they doing this?” Abruptly, Avi pulled the Adler around a corner onto a street that, for the moment at least, was as quiet as it was deserted. Avi slammed on the brakes and shut down the engine. Then he turned sharply and stared into Jacob’s eyes. “Because he’s a Jew,” Avi whispered. “They’re killing him because he’s a Jew.

He felt as though every molecule in his body were shaking. Evil was on the march, and though everyone around him seemed bound and determined not to believe it, there was no question in his mind the Nazis were coming for them, for the people of France, all of them, with all their murderous fury, and he desperately feared the bloodbath that was coming with the jackboots and the broken cross.

was that possible? The whole notion of State Department and CIA personnel being inside a country whose language they didn’t speak seemed ludicrous to Charlie. How could one government understand another—much less build a healthy, positive, long-lasting relationship—without at least being able to talk in the other’s heart language? It couldn’t, Charlie knew, and now Washington was about to pay the piper.

In the meantime, none of the folks who had come from Sedan with Monique and Jacqueline had departed. Nor had the Halévy family from Brussels. Homeless and shell-shocked, none of them seemed to know where else to go or what else to do. The Europe they had all known, the Europe they had all grown up in and loved, was gone, in the hands of a madman who was now attempting to conquer Britain and North Africa as well.

Adolf Hitler and his Brownshirts had surged to power. Now they held Germany by the throat. The Gestapo was rapidly creating a cruel and brutal police state that treated all but true Aryans like dogs and swine. That was certainly true for Jews like the Weisz family. In just the last few years, they and all of the Jewish families in Germany had been stripped of their citizenship and denied many of their most basic rights. Jacob’s father, an esteemed professor of German history, had been summarily fired from his prestigious post at Frederick William University in Berlin. The Weisz family had been forced out of their beautiful, spacious home in the suburbs of the capital. They’d had a big red J stamped on their official papers and had been denied permission to leave the country. So they had left Berlin and made a new home in Siegen.

Have them drop their pants. Then we will know who is a kike and who is not.” It took only a moment, but soon all the men were standing, their bodies trembling, their knees shaking. One by one, they removed their underwear. Von Strassen shone his flashlight at their private parts. Three were found to be circumcised—a father, his teenage son, and his six-year-old son. “Away with them,” Von Strassen spat. “Send them to Auschwitz.

The house was full. They had no idea how they were going to care for all those who had already come. He could only imagine the enormous burden she must be feeling, and now this? It wasn’t fair to her. As much as it pained him, he would have to say no. They weren’t running a refugee center. They were just putting up a few people for a few days. That was all. But before he could utter a word, Claire spoke. “Of course you can stay with us, Mr. Halévy. Come in; please come in.

It was now clear that the little town of Sedan—with a population of less than eighteen thousand people—was one of the Germans’ first targets. How long would it take them to overrun and consume the town? How long would it be until everyone was dead or a prisoner of war? Once the Nazis controlled the bridges across the Meuse River, they could pour their forces into France, annihilate her armies, and march on Paris. How long would it take them to occupy and enslave the entire country?

Other believers had suffered in this country. Others had died at these hands, and hands like them. Jesus had suffered far worse. He had suffered and bled and died for her. For her sins. To set her free. To adopt her as a child into His family. To bring her into His Kingdom. Forever. How could she not be willing to suffer and bleed and die for Him? If that's what He asked, she would do it. With the strength He gave her. By the grace He provided. And maybe she would see Him soon, face-to-face.

Jacob Weisz feared the power he held in his hands. The power to shatter. To wound. To take a man’s life. But his uncle Avraham assured him he was doing nothing wrong. To the contrary, Avi insisted, this was his duty, and this was his moment. “There is a time for every activity under the sun,” Avi explained. “That’s what Solomon said. A time to give birth and a time to die. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time for war and a time for peace. It’s not for us to choose our times, Jacob. But we must be ready when they come.

Before they knew what was happening, the eighty-four-year-old Marshal Philippe Pétain, a puppet of Adolf Hitler, was suddenly the head of a new French government operating not out of Paris but out of the town of Vichy. To make matters worse, they heard reports that Hitler’s forces were heading to northern France, now known as the Occupied Zone, while allowing Pétain to administrate the center and south, ostensibly now known as the Free Zone, though it could hardly be truly free with the jackboot of der Führer on their necks.

Az men krigt zikh miten rov, muz men sholem zein miten shainker,” Avi had said when he first put the rifle in Jacob’s hands. The old Yiddish proverb could be roughly translated as, “If you’re at odds with your rabbi, make peace with your bartender.” His uncle offered no explanation, but as Jacob had chewed on its meaning, he had concluded that Avi meant something like, “Always be prepared” or “Have a plan B.” The problem was, Jacob didn’t want a plan B. He didn’t want life to change. He wanted things to be the way they had always been.

Luc and Claire gathered in their bedroom late at night, after each day’s work was done, after everyone else had gone to sleep, after they themselves had washed and changed and gotten ready for bed. Together, they got down on their knees and prayed. They thanked the Lord for having mercy on them all, for saving their lives and providing for their essential needs. They asked for mercy for their country and the whole of Europe. They took turns praying for specific family members or friends. Most of all, they pleaded with the Lord for wisdom.

they had to do it anyway. They had to try. They had taken an oath, and they would be faithful to the end. On the bank of surveillance monitors in front of her, she saw a dozen of her best agents—guns drawn—suddenly rush the convention stage, surround the president, grab him by the arms, and literally carry him away, his feet barely touching the ground. Sanchez then bolted out of the command post and met the president’s protective detail backstage and ordered them downstairs, into the makeshift bunker. “Go, go, go,” she yelled as they raced the president down one corridor after another, into a heavily guarded stairwell, and down five flights, eventually bursting into the basement, where all the convention center’s HVAC systems were housed. They turned one corner and then another, ducking pipes and ducts along the way. A moment later, they raced the president into a large storage freezer, slammed the door shut behind them, and worked feverishly to put him in a protective suit, gloves, and mask, pre-positioned there by the army’s nuclear, biological, and chemical fast-reaction team. That done, Sanchez and her agents began to suit up themselves. But just then, Sanchez felt the

Crossing Pont Neuf didn’t turn out to be the problem. The problem was the other side. As he came around a bend, Luc found the road clogged with vehicles of every type. Now a new fear gripped him. No traffic jam had prevented their crossing the Meuse River. But one still might prevent them from successfully fleeing the German forces, which were at that very moment overrunning the town. Seeing so many red taillights ahead, Luc slammed on the brakes. They came to a full stop. They were just idling there while the Nazi forces pressed their attack, closing in on the bridge with every passing moment.

she saw all those who were in the pickup truck with her husband. Their clothes were torn. Their hands and faces were covered in blood and dust. They looked as shell-shocked as they felt. What’s more, they were hungry and thirsty and exhausted and grieving their families and friends and the town they had left behind. “I heard, on the wireless,” Claire said without missing a beat. “It’s all anyone is talking about. Thank God you’re okay. Come in. All of you, please come in. We will get you something to eat and give you a place to sleep and a hot bath. Come in; don’t be shy. You’re with friends here.

Colonel Klaus Von Strassen stepped out of the command car. Under the cover of darkness and flanked by German soldiers bearing submachine guns at the ready, the Nazi officer slipped through the back door of a schoolhouse on the eastern edge of Sedan to see the nearly three dozen prisoners—men, women, and children—sitting in orderly rows on the floor. They had been forced to strip down to their underwear. Their feet and hands were bound tightly with ropes and chains. They were blindfolded and gagged. They sat shivering in the cool night air, thick with the smell of gunpowder and burning human flesh.

The northern end of the Maginot Line was many kilometers away. The bulk of the French forces were positioned along that line, waiting for a frontal German attack that Luc now realized would never come. The Nazis had achieved what the generals and politicians in Paris said was impossible. They had carefully navigated their way through the Ardennes. They had used the trees as cover to keep French reconnaissance planes from spotting them. And now they were launching a devilishly clever sneak attack. They were outflanking the French forces. They were about to skirt right around them and attack them from behind.

Luc, however, was not following them. Instead he raced back to the corner where he had left his sister. Reaching the spot, he slammed on the brakes, jumped out—leaving the engine running—and ran over to Monique, who was still weeping and shivering against a brick wall. With no time to be gentle, he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to the truck, and then, opening the passenger-side door, he pushed her inside and slammed the door shut. Back in the driver’s seat, he slammed his own door and hit the gas. “Hold on!” he yelled to the people in the back, then turned to Monique and ordered her to do the same.

Then one day he heard the whistle of the daily one o’clock train pulling into the station. A few minutes later, he heard more pounding on his front door. To his astonishment, there were three families—more than twenty people total—standing on his front porch. They were dressed much as the Halévys had been dressed the night they arrived, and they had that unmistakable look of fear in their eyes. “We’ve heard you take in Jews,” said one of the elders of the group. “Is it true?” This time, before he’d even taken time to think about what he was doing, Luc heard himself saying, “Of course. Come in; please come in.

Lord Jesus, I need you. Thank you for dying on the cross for my sins. Thank you for rising from the dead. I believe you are the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I believe you are the only way to heaven, the only way to the Father. And right now, as an act of the will, by faith, I open the door of my life and receive you as my Savior and Lord. Thank you for forgiving my sins. Thank you for giving me eternal life. Have mercy on me, Lord. Show me your will. Teach me your Word. Guide me by your Holy Spirit. Take the throne of my life, Lord Jesus, and make me the kind of person you want me to be. In your holy and precious Name I pray, amen.

Just then he spotted a German Messerschmitt in the sky ahead of them. It was firing its machine guns and seemed to be aiming right for them. He ordered everyone to dive into the alleyway beside them, and they all took cover just as the fighter roared by, killing all those who remained in its path. Then came another explosion, just behind them. Luc pressed his body down on Monique and Jacqueline, doing everything he could to protect them. But he knew they couldn’t stay pinned down. He could hear the German tanks rumbling up the road from the east. The Nazis were approaching far more quickly than he’d expected. They had to keep moving.

Listen, Monique. Nic is dead. He’s gone. He was trying to help people. He helped carry a wounded man into the church. I was about to follow him there myself. But before I got there, the bombs began to fall. They destroyed the church. They killed everyone inside. I watched it happen. I’m sorry. But he’s gone.” Just as Luc feared, Monique collapsed in his arms. She was sobbing uncontrollably, crying, “No, no, no!” Luc set her down gently, then glanced across the park. The rest of the group had reached the truck. They were waiting for him. They were counting on him. He again scooped up Jacqueline in his arms. Then he pleaded with Monique to come with him.

Still, there were some glimmers of hope. Luc’s fellow pastors were becoming a great support. They had no problem with caring for so many people. To the contrary, they were thrilled. In a wonderful answer to prayer, Chrétien and Émile and their wives brought over bushels of fruit and vegetables to help feed everyone. They brought fresh clothes so the group didn’t have to wear the same things day after day. One morning, Émile showed up with new identity papers for each person and a plan to move most of them in with other families, including his own, to lighten the burden and not draw so much attention to Luc and Claire, lest the authorities start asking questions.

The German bombers kept coming. In town after town, Jean-Luc Leclerc could hear the air-raid sirens. But he refused to stop, refused to take shelter. He had one mission, and that was to reach Le Chambon, no matter what it took. He desperately wanted to hug his daughter Lilly, only six years old, and her sister, Madeline, not quite four. He wanted to hold them and never let them go. Even more he wanted to hold his beloved Claire. Surely she had heard about the German invasion. She was constantly listening to the news from Paris and London on the radio. He couldn’t imagine the anxiety she was going through. Finally, just after two in the morning, he reached his objective.

We’re home, you two,” he whispered. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” After some initial resistance, Monique finally roused, and Luc got them inside and settled upstairs in the room that once had been Monique’s when they were growing up. Now it was a guest room, quiet and cozy and safe. Luc went to fetch them some fresh towels and brought back a pot of tea and some fruit as well. Monique nodded her thanks but said nothing. She just began to weep softly again. So Luc held his eldest sister until both of them heard Jacqueline stirring on the bed, asking for her daddy. At that, Luc gave Monique a kiss on the forehead, slipped out of the room so the two of them could be alone, and closed the door behind him.

He motioned impatiently to his adjutant and was handed a small stack of identification papers, which he quickly riffled through. Von Strassen concluded immediately that there was no one of value in the bunch. No military men. No intelligence officers. No one who likely had any information that could be of use. “Stand up if you’re a Jew,” he ordered. No one stood. “I’m only going to say it one more time,” Von Strassen growled. “You’re all going to be sent to a prison camp—a labor camp, a work camp. You will remain there, serving the German war effort, until the war is over and der Führer decides your fate. But if you are Jewish, you will be treated specially. You will be treated differently. So you must stand to your feet if you are a Jew.

quoted from a statement Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini—the leader of the Islamic Revolution in Iran—had said just the day before. “. . . it is incumbent upon students to forcefully expand their attacks against America and Israel, so that America will be forced to return the criminal, deposed Shah.” Then she read a lengthy statement prepared by the students. Several lines jumped out at Charlie. “We Muslim students, followers of Imam Khomeini, have occupied the espionage embassy of America in protest against the ploys of the imperialists and the Zionists. We announce our protest to the world, a protest against America for granting asylum and employing the criminal Shah while it has on its hands the blood of tens of thousands of women and men in this country. . . .

So he gunned the engine and turned the wheel hard to the left. He hopped a curb and accelerated. He began driving over people’s lawns, through their backyards, across their fields. No one was around to stop him. Everyone on this side of Sedan had already evacuated. After a few minutes, he came to the end of a cornfield and found the main road heading south. At first he was glad to reconnect with a real road, but he found it just as clogged as all the roads behind him. He didn’t think twice. He veered into the lane of oncoming traffic and gunned the engine again. In any other circumstance, it would have seemed like an act of lunacy. But in this case there was no oncoming traffic. The lane was empty. Not a soul was heading north toward Sedan and the Belgian border.

Don’t you get it, Claire? Khomeini’s thugs have the entire embassy. They have the vaults. They have the files. They know who I am, and they’re going to want information I can give them. Right now they’re taking a roll call of every employee. When they find we’re missing, they’re going to look up our address. If it’s been destroyed, they’re going to put a gun to the head of Liz Swift. If she doesn’t give us up, they’re going to kill her in front of everyone else. Then they’re going to ask Mike Metrinko. If he doesn’t give us up, they’re going to kill him. Then they’re going to turn to John Limbert. And they’re going to keep killing people until someone breaks. I don’t know who it will be. But someone’s going to give them our address, and then they’re coming for us.

father owned the building where your brother and his family rented a flat. When my father passed away a few years ago, he left the building to me. I became your brother’s landlord. We’ve known the family for years. But when rumors of the Nazi invasion began several weeks ago, we made preparations to flee. We begged Philippe and Muriel to come with us. They are, I must say, our dearest Gentile friends. But they did not think Hitler would really do it. We pleaded with them, ‘Come with us. There is no more time.’ But they refused. I’m afraid we could not wait any longer. Last Tuesday we fled the city. It broke our hearts to leave our friends and our home, but we simply couldn’t take a chance on being captured by the Germans. We hear they are sending Jews to work camps all over Europe.

collapsed into bed just after four o’clock in the morning. He knew he would have to be up soon. As soon as the sun peeked its head above the wooded hills behind their home, he and Claire would need to care for their own children as well as make breakfast for all their guests. There was so much to do, so much to decide. How long would everyone stay? They certainly couldn’t go back to Sedan, but could they really stay here? Monique and Jacqueline could, of course. But how could they house and feed and care for the others? Hopefully most of them had relatives in safer parts of France and could go there. That might take some time to sort out, but at least it would be a start. But for right now, it was too late. Both Luc and Claire were physically and emotionally spent, and they needed a little shut-eye.

Rather than inserting more Marines and engineers to harden and defend the American Embassy—thus sending an unequivocal message that such an assault against American sovereign territory in the heart of Tehran would never be tolerated again—the bureaucrats back at the White House and State Department had panicked. They’d reduced the embassy’s staff from nearly a thousand to barely sixty. The Pentagon had shown a similar lack of resolve. The number of U.S. military forces in-country had been drawn down from about ten thousand active-duty troops to almost none. The only reason Charlie had been sent in—especially as green as he was—was because he happened to be one of the few men in the entire U.S. diplomatic corps who was actually fluent in Farsi. None of the three CIA guys on site even spoke the language.

hotbed of radicalism in the capital, the campus and its adjacent streets were jammed with students. Just finished with their midday prayers, they were now chanting and marching. Some were firing machine guns into the air. Charlie could feel the same violent spirit that had pervaded the scene around the embassy, and he immediately slammed on the brakes and screeched to a halt. Jamming the car into reverse, he gunned the engine and began to back up but was cut off by a VW van filled with students that had come up behind them. The VW’s driver suddenly began screaming something about their American car, and six young men jumped out, carrying wooden sticks and metal pipes. “Lock your doors, Claire,” Charlie ordered, doing the same on his side. Wild-eyed, the students surrounded the Buick, taunting and cursing them.

As they ate, they would listen to the latest news from Paris, as well as from the BBC in London. None of it was good. Not ever. On the night of May 15, they listened in shock to details of Holland surrendering to the Nazis. By May 28, Belgium had formally surrendered too, though they had long since been overrun. They listened in silent horror to report after report of German forces blazing and murdering their way through northern France and moving steadily toward their beloved Paris. They couldn’t imagine the Germans actually seizing the capital, but on the night of June 10, the BBC reported that the French government had begun evacuating Paris. Four days later, they wept upon hearing reports of the Nazis entering and occupying the capital. Soon the French were signing an armistice with Hitler. Prime Minister Reynaud was stepping down.

9:12 P.M.—GROUND ZERO, WASHINGTON, D.C. Without warning, the capital of the United States was obliterated. At precisely 9:12 p.m. Eastern, in a millisecond of time, in a blinding flash of light, the White House simply ceased to exist, as did everything and everyone else for miles in every direction. No sooner had the first missile detonated in Lafayette Park than temperatures soared into the millions of degrees. The firestorm and blast wave that followed consumed everything in its path. Gone was the Treasury building, and with it the headquarters of the United States Secret Service. Gone was the FBI building, and the National Archives, and the Supreme Court, and the U.S. Capitol and all of its surrounding buildings. Wiped away was every monument, every museum, every restaurant, every hotel, every hospital, every library and landmark of any kind, every sign of civilization.

Ten minutes later, Charlie eased their black Buick Skylark onto Ferdowsi Avenue, dubbed “Embassy Row” by local diplomats. Were other Western missions under siege, he wondered, or just his own? The boulevard was as congested as ever, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. No protests. No demonstrations. No presidents or prime ministers being burned in effigy here, even though hideous mock-ups of President Carter were being torched just a few blocks away. It was odd. They were so close to the student mob, but here he could detect no hostilities of any kind. Still, Charlie could tell Claire was getting anxious. If they were going to get out of this city, they needed to do it quickly. “Where will we go?” she asked her husband. “I’m not sure,” Charlie conceded. “Even if we could make it to the airport, they’d never let us out of the country. Especially not with U.S. diplomatic passports.

To the north, Winston Churchill was warning that Hitler wanted to take over the world. The new British prime minister had been saying it for years. No one had listened. Now der Führer was on the march, and France was not ready. Not the people. Not the politicians. Not the press. Not even the generals. In Paris, they said the Germans would never dare to invade France. They said the Nazis could never penetrate the Maginot Line, the twenty-five-kilometer-thick virtual wall of heavily armed and manned guard posts and bunkers and concrete tank barricades and antiaircraft batteries and minefields and all manner of other military fortifications designed to keep the Germans at bay. They’d convinced themselves Hitler would never try to move his panzer divisions through the forests of the Ardennes. Those forests were too thick, too dense, too foreboding for anyone to move tanks and mobile artillery and armored personnel carriers and other mechanized units through.

Netanyahu then explained to me why the stakes were so high. The Iranian leaders, he said, “want to concentrate on completing their nuclear program because once they have that, then they could threaten the West in ways that are unimaginable today. They could take over the Persian Gulf on all its sides and take control of the oil reserves of the world. They could topple Saudi Arabia and Jordan in short order and, of course, Iraq. All your internal debates in America on [the future of] Iraq would be irrelevant because nuclear-armed Iran would subordinate Iraq in two seconds. Then they would threaten to create a second Holocaust in Israel and proceed on their idea of building a global empire, producing twenty-five atomic bombs a year—250 bombs in a decade—with missiles that they are already working on [and that they want to develop] to reach the eastern seaboard of the United States. Everything else pales in comparison to this development. This has to be stopped, for the sake of the world, not only for the sake of Israel.

York. No amount of emergency planning had prepared anyone for something of this scale. Raging fires and radioactive winds were killing everyone in their paths, yet fleeing for safety was difficult if not impossible. Shock paralyzed millions. The lack of electricity paralyzed millions more, as did the inability to communicate. What had just happened? What was coming next? Where could one go to be safe? And how in the world should one get there? And then the City of Angels became the City of Demons. Jackie Sanchez picked up the secure phone on the console in front of her and took the priority-one call from General Briggs at NORAD. She could barely believe what he was telling her, but she had no time to argue. They had a minute, if that, to get the president to safety. She slammed down the phone and quickly shouted a series of coded commands into her wrist-mounted microphone. Her team reacted instantly, just as they’d been trained. She wasn’t sure if it really mattered. Perhaps all their efforts would be in vain. Maybe they wouldn’t save any lives. But

every direction. Those poor, unfortunate souls who didn’t die instantly suddenly found themselves blinded and burning and unable to move. Some would hang on for hours. Some would endure for days or even weeks. But there was no hope of survival. Nor was there any hope of rescue or evacuation. The vast majority of those who didn’t die immediately sustained third-degree burns over most if not all of their bodies. People’s eardrums were blown out. Their hands and feet were blistered and bleeding. And they would continue to suffer horribly, until they eventually succumbed to the most excruciatingly painful deaths imaginable; there was absolutely nothing they or anyone else could do about it. Manhattan took the next hit. The Scud C hit the heart of Times Square, and it, too, carried a nuclear warhead. The effect was as ghastly as it was instantaneous. The detonation eradicated every life-form in a half-mile radius within a fraction of a second. Every building from the theater district and the New York Times Building to Grand Central station and beyond was vaporized in the blink of an eye, just as experts had

Every building was just gone, and every soul as well. Across the Potomac River, the Pentagon shuddered violently from the blast wave and then began to partially collapse. What remained standing was utterly ablaze, as was every structure not flattened for as far as the eye could see. Howling, scorching winds soon began sweeping lethal radioactivity through the city’s northeast quadrant and into Maryland, surging through Prince George’s County and Anne Arundel County, as if they were following 295 to the north and Routes 50 and 214 to the east, through Capitol Heights and Lanham and Bowie toward Crofton and Annapolis. Soon more than five thousand square miles of Virginia, Maryland, and the District of Columbia were contaminated with deadly levels of radioactivity. And the nightmare had only just begun. Moments after the first missile hit D.C., a second missile struck the CIA building at Langley directly, its superheated fireball and cataclysmic blast wave obliterating the nation’s premier intelligence headquarters in the tree-lined suburbs of northern Virginia and vaporizing every home and office building, every church and mall for mile after mile

everything for miles in all directions. The Space Needle. The aquarium and the science center. Amazon.com’s headquarters. Safeco Field. And every Starbucks in between. All of it was gone in the snap of a finger. None of the city’s twenty-one state-of-the-art air raid sirens went off. They had originally been installed in the early 1950s during the Cold War. They’d been cosmetically upgraded in 2006 at a cost of $91,000. But they’d been useless. No one in the mayor’s office or the police department or the fire department knew the missile was coming. No one knew the threat that was inbound. Thus no one had activated the sirens. But even if someone had, would anyone in Seattle have known what to do or where to go? Would there have been any time to seek shelter? No one was left to ask the questions, for now the air raid sirens and the city they were designed to protect were gone entirely. Untold thousands lay dead and dying. More would join them soon. Indeed, the death toll in Seattle alone would soar into the hundreds of thousands within hours. An enormous mushroom cloud, crackling with toxic radioactive dust, now formed over the city. Those not blinded by the initial

blast could see the lethal, glowing plume from miles away. It was certainly seen on the Microsoft campus in Redmond, just ten miles away, and as the killer winds began to blow, death and destruction soon followed. It was only a matter of time. There would be no escape, and no place to hide. Surely first responders would emerge from surrounding states and communities, eager to help in any way they possibly could. But how would they get into the hot zones? How would they communicate? Where would they take the dead? Where would they take the dying? The power grid went down instantly. All communications went dark. The electromagnetic pulse set off by the warhead’s detonation had fried all electronic circuitry for miles. The electrical systems of most motor vehicles in Seattle—from fire trucks and ambulances to police cars and military Humvees, not to mention most helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft—were immobilized completely or, at the very least, severely damaged. Most cell phones, pagers, PDAs, TVs, and radios were rendered useless as well, as were even the backup power systems in hospitals and other emergency facilities throughout the blast radius. The same was true in Washington, D.C., and New