Announcement "Orders from Higher Up"

Note: This is a translation from the Dutch announcement of the book dated February 24, 2012

Amsterdam, May 24, 2012 - The Dutch version of the true crime "Dead End Street - Why the Dutch Secret Service Murdered Their Top Secret Agent Theo van Gogh" by Slobodan Mitric, alias Karate Bob, was published by the Willehalm Institute Press in Amsterdam this spring and is available in bookstores and on the Internet.

This book dedicated to Theo van Gogh is described by the writer as a literary crime-report, based as it is on personal observations and secretly recorded conversations and filmed scenes with directly or indirectly involved figures. It is, like his earlier books such as The Golden Tip - The Entanglement of the Upper and Underworld and the Murder of G. J. Heijn, Help! They’ve Kidnapped Me! Lady Di and 911: The Accusation - Bringing the Guilty to Justice in no way conspiracy theory, but conspiracy practice. Accordingly, the author as a former top counter-intelligence agent emphasizes that he can prove everything brought forward in this new true crime and if required can testify behind close doors. The most remarkable shocking and lugubrious events of his report are:

1. A few days before Mohammed Bouyeri, the "Chosen One" on the morning of November 2, 2004 shot down Theo van Gogh at the Linneausstraat opposite the district office of Amsterdam East and then cut his throat and pinned a letter on his chest with a knife, he was as the Prince of Death, donned in a long white Arab garb, honored in public on the flower-covered Java Street in Amsterdam East in the presence of his Imam, body guards and hundreds of spectators, including even officials of the police and the secret service. The writer actually witnessed this public ritual himself perchance and has described in the chapter "Homage to the Prince of Death".

2. As the final chapter reveals, this liquidation of Theo van Gogh was not, as is generally maintained and believed,  the sole action of an Islamic fundamentalist, but a covert operation prepared, carried out with military precision  and subsequently perfectly covered up (at least until now) by the Dutch secret service and their infiltrators in the national press and media.

3. This operation had probably not been necessary, if Theo had only listened and complied with two urgent requests and warnings from the Director of the AIVD (Duch Secret Service) to remove the article "Shadow Commando of the Prince" from his website "The Healthy Smoker". This article by Jan Portein as well as a supplement to it under the title "Lubbers and Muslim Bomb" - in which the writer Karate Bob in his at that time secret function as director of World Atomic Counter-Espionage (WACE) plays the central role in a secret multi-million plutonium transaction - were according to the Dutch Secret Service (AIVD) a threat to national security and the Queen. The literary representation of the two conversations between Theo van Gogh as a member of the secret service and the head of the AIVD in Cafe Cinetone on the Duivendrechtsekade and Cafe Danzig in the center of Amsterdam can be read in the chapters "Shadow Commando of the Prince" and "DNA". The two relevant articles that Theo refused to remove from his website are found in the appendices, which include legal documents related to the threatening, illegal and inhumane eviction of the ailing writer by the Dutch state to the former Yugoslavia, a letter from the then Premier Lubbers to Slobodan Mitric, testimony by Prof. Rüter, a former president of Amnesty International, about the credibility of Slobodan Mitric, plus a comprehensive CV and an overview of his work as a writer, artist and filmmaker with his wife Iris de Vries, who died under suspicious circumstances in an Amsterdam hospital in 2006.

4. The then mayor of Amsterdam (Job Cohen), the Minister of Immigration and Naturalization (Rita Verdonk), the chief of the Amsterdam Police and the Chief Justice were not only aware of this state liquidation, but allowed the police, who followed the preparations closely, to let the murderer and his team go about their business undisturbed: "Orders from Higher Up!" The Amsterdam village idiot, who had publicly called his pig Allah on television and who had made the film "Submission" with Hirschi Ali had to be sacrificed to abate the fury of the Islamic community at home and abroad in order to prevent worse. This is related in the chapter"  Jewish Bacon Cunt" based on a conversation secretly recorded at the mayor’s residence in Amsterdam by the Dutch secret service. The chapter "Submission," with which this book after the Prologue "On the Java Street There Is Something Going On" starts, and the chapter "Fox" also present a somewhat different perspective on how this film actually came about, while from the chapter "DNA" and the conversation at Cafe Danzig between Theo and the AIVD it turns out that the former had doubts about the true identity of Hirschi Ali and ordered an investigation to determine whether the preparations for the murder were an insider’s case of "estherism" (a term from the vocabulary of counter-intelligence work, in which a criminal prepares a criminal act which he then discloses to the authorities in order to gain a foothold and high position therein).

5. Part of the preparations for the murder of Theo van Gogh was that the "Chosen One" was taught the art of throat-cutting by an Imam and a colleague under the watchful eye of two big bodyguards. First, through the use of a goat as described in the chapter entitled "Islamic Butchery" and then even on a Ukrainian man, as described in the chapter "Body Wrapped in a Carpet" illustrated with a color picture of the crime scene in Amsterdam East. That as well was closely followed by the police, who could have prevented it, but who were told not to intervene: "Orders from Higher Up ...!"

The book of 192 pages with 28 in color is a translation by N. J. from the Serbian original, which appeared in January in Cyrillic under the title ЋОРАВИ СОКАК and in Latin as ĆORAVI Sokak in Mitric’s own publishing house "L'Atelier de la Liberté" in Amsterdam. It contains a foreword "Does a Dead End Street Have an Exit After All?" by the Serbian philologist and writer Prof. Dr. Rade Bozovic, first impressions by the Serbian journalist and writer Dusan Tesic Luzanski and, as an introduction, a press release from the Government of the Republic of Serbia and two press releases by the Willehalm Institute about the panic brought about by two postal packages with seven of Slobodan Mitric’s books, including the Serbian editions of "Dead End Street", which were sent early in February to the prosecutor for war crimes in the Serbian capital Belgrade. 

This Serbian-Dutch cultural cooperative ends with a brief history and presentation of the objectives of the publisher: the Willehalm Institute Press Foundation, established in 2005 Amsterdam and named after Willehalm, the 9th century founder of the original House of Orange in southern France, a paladin of Charlemagne, who in 1066 was declared patron saint of the knights, especially for his part as the supreme commander of the Carolingian army in the Spanish Mark in repulsing the march of Islamization at that time in Europe.

Copies of this "intriguing book with sparkling dialogues" (proofreader Ton Majoor) were submitted on February 16 to the national daily newspaper TROUW in Amsterdam for its Police and Justice editor Adri Vermaat (as yet no reaction) and Slobodan Mitric's lawyer Henri Sarolea. The next day, copies were presented to the Queen (personally delivered to her guards stationed at the gate of her Palace Noordeinde in The Hague) and to Geert Wilders (via the mail room at the Parliament Buildings); for him the Preface by the publisher entitled "Can the Current Rise of Islamization Still Be Countered?” might be of special interest and possibly even a welcome opportunity to raise question in the House of Parliament to the government (no reaction as yet). Also that day, three copies were personally presented by the publisher to the parents of Theo van Gogh in their hometown of Wassenaar, who received them with an interest. To them, Slobodan Mitric dedicated the following words in his book: 

"I cannot bring your son back alive, but what I can give you is the truth how and why he was murdered, which you can read in this book. I hope that having read it, you will not allow this cover-up to continue."

This is also the message to his readers on the back flap of his book: 

"For each murder, no matter whom it concerns, it is necessary to tell the truth and nothing but the truth as well as to write the truth about it, whether one likes it or not. It is up to you, dear reader, to either support or reject this novel. But if we remain silent, the murder machine of the dark forces will continue their killing without any further hindrance: Yesterday Theo, tomorrow one of us. Nobody has the right to kill – irrespective of whether a person really deserves to die under the law of a state or a religious community. Especially in the so-called free democratic world that claims to follow the path of freedom and justice.
Let us help bring all those responsible for the murder of Theo van Gogh to justice."

Interested reviewers can request a (Dutch) copy from the publisher (RJK).

Biographical Note on the Author with Painting

Slobodan Radojev Mitric, alias Karate Bob, is a former Yugoslav top counter-intelligence agent who, after having defected to the West in 1973, was appointed by Major General Raymond Healey as Dutch, European and finally World Director of Reserve Police-International (RPI) which was at that time still based in Tucson, Arizona, USA. A poet, playwright and artist, he is also a karate master 10th Dan and criminologist with an honorary doctorate in law from the Arizona College of Police Science (1986).

The title page of this book shows the building of the AIVD (General Intelligence and Security Service) in Rijswijk, Holland with the emblem of that service: three superimposed fish.

The author has been living and working since 1973 in Amsterdam without a proper residence permit under the constant threat of being deported by the Dutch government to his native Yugoslavia, despite a court order from 1986 prohibiting this and despite his services as described in his novel “The Golden Tip” to the Dutch Crown. In Yugoslavia awaits him certain death for having committed high treason in 1973 for refusing to execute the general secretary of the illegal Marxist-Leninist Communist Party in the person of Vladmir Dapcevic, an opponent of Marshal Tito with whom Mitric was on close terms and for whom he served as an adviser and bodyguard.  In a related shooting incident in Amsterdam that year, three of his compatriots were killed, which adds to the likelihood of blood revenge by their relatives in the former Yugoslavia should he be deported there. For this shooting incident and other so-called crimes he was unjustly imprisoned more than 18 years in this country.

He was married in the Netherlands with the independent artist Iris de Vries, who died under suspicious circumstances on January 10, 2006 at a hospital (OLVG) in Amsterdam.

Dedication

Theo van Gogh

You wanted

To certainly solve

A snarl of snakes

Of global times

With your bare arms

Totally on your own.

This novel

I Dedicate to you

My immortal Theo.

Slobodan Slobodan

Table of Contents

Please note: This Tabel of Contents has been replaced by 
the one in the book that is appearing on November 2, 2016, 
which has a new preface by the publisher and fewer appendices, some of which are new.

Foreword and Justification by the Publisher

Can the Current Rise of Islamization still Still be Halted?

Instead of an introduction

A press release from the Republic of Serbia and two press releases Willehalm Institute

Foreword by Rade Božović

Does a Dead End Street Have an Exit After All?

Dušan Tesic Lužanski on Dead Street

Prologue: On the Javastraat Something Is Going On

Chapter 1: Submission

Chapter 2: Open Discussions of Moroccan Youth with the Amsterdam Police

Chapter 3: Fox

Chapter 4: Islam

Chapter 5: Shadow Commando of the Prince

Chapter 6: Threat

Chapter 7: Unmasked Ones

Chapter 8: I Call My pig Allah

Chapter 9: Islamic Butcher

Chapter 10: DNA

Chapter 11: A Body Wrapped in a Carpet

Chapter 12: "Jewish Bacon Cunt"

Chapter 13: Tribute to the Prince of Death

Chapter 14: Arms Dealer

Chapter 15: Assassination

Appendices

I. The Shadow Commando of the Prince

II. Lubbers and the Muslim bomb

III. Letter S. Mitric dated August 29, 2004 to Dr. R. Lubbers 
on his Contract with Him to Mediate in the Transaction of 60 kg. Plutonium 

IV. Fax R. J. Cellar Dated. 6 Sept. 2004 Dr. R. Lubbers about the above contract

V. Letter by Premier Lubbers dated November 2 1984 to S. Mitric on the Exchange of Spies

VI. Four Statements Written in November 2008 by Slobodan Mitric 
on his Appeal to the Rejected Request for Waiver of his Alien Status

VII. View S. Mitric Dated January 16 2012 concerning the 
Intention of the Immigration and Naturalization Service to Deport Him

VIII. Testimony of Prof. C. F. Rüter on 15 February 1988 in the Case Mitric

IX. Mutilated Letter Dated January 20 2012 Jan Bloem to Dutch TROUW

X. Belgrade's Crisis Disrupts Public Prosecutor

XI. Another Package Arrived for Vukcevic

XII. CV of Slobodan Mitric and Overview of his and his Wife Iris' Work

XIII. Title Page and Back Flap Netherlands's Mafia

XIV. Title Page and Text Operation Twins (Part 1)

XV. Title Page and Text Operation Twins (Excerpt Part 2)

XVI. Title Page and Text The Golden Tip

XVII. Title Page and Text Help! They Kidnapped Me! Lady Di

XVIII. Press Release: 9/11 EXPOSED!

IXX. Title Page and Text of  the Book William of Orange, Parzival and the Grail 

XX. Willehalm Institute: Origins and Objectives

Can the Current Rise of Islamization Still Be Halted? -Introduction and Justification by the Publisher

Instead of an introduction to this shocking and at first sight incredible book and to its - with imminent deportation beleaguered - writer you will find, dear reader, one press release from the Republic of Serbia and two press releases from the Willehalm Institute about the panic caused by  two packages containing seven of Slobodan Mitric's books, including the Serbian original of this book, recently sent to the public prosecutor for war crimes in Belgrade in the Serbian capital Belgrade.

This is followed by the preface “Does a Dead End Street Have an Exit After All?” by the renowned Serbian philologist, Dean, author and lecturer of the Serbian editions of Mitric’s book Prof. Dr. Rade Božović and by the first impressions of it by his compatriot, the veteran journalist and author Dušan Tesic Lužanski. The latter sees no way out anymore, because as he states in his letter to the writer, "that the third millennium is characterized by the unstoppable advance of the [third] Islamization of Europe." Thus he asks: "Do the Dutch realize at all what is happening to them? And, what is the official response to your book?"

Apart from the fact that the Dutch state is apparently doing everything in its power to finally deport the author to the former Yugoslavia, it is still too early to answer this question. But it is expected that the publication of this book, which its author describes as a literary report, a true crime based on his own observations and secretly recorded conversations and filmed scenes of involved figures, shall sooner or later have a major influence on the public debate about the Islamization of the Netherlands and Europe and on the related entanglement of the upper and underworld. The latter is a phenomenon that the author has signaled earlier in his novel “The Golden Tip”, but because of the boycott by the national press and media it has so far had no positive impact on the public debate and the judiciary.

The various texts and legal documents in the appendix present information about the inhumane and illegal attempts by the government to deport the writer - he was repeatedly warned from himself as a writer to keep quiet - and also to support the credibility of his reality novel. Because everything will probably be done by the counterparty, insofar as it is not hushed up again, to make the Dutch people believe that everything in this book is but the work of a dreamer, if not a crazy, sick old man.

Towards the end there is a summary of the work of the author with links to many sites and his impressive CV.

The book concludes with a brief history and representation of the goals of the publisher, which as a foundation is named after the main character of the epic poem by the German medieval poet-knight Wolfram von Eschenbach “Willehalm” in the person of the original Count William of Orange of the 9th century. This paladin of Charlemagne and founder of the original House of Orange in Southern France was in the 11th century named patron saint of the knights, mainly because of his courageous efforts as supreme commander of the Carolingian army of the Spanish mark  to halt the second advance of the Islamization of Europe by the invading Moors from Spain. May this patron, who was married to an Arabian Princess Arabelle and whom he converted to Celtic or Grail Christianity, become an inspiration to halt the current - according Lužanski unstoppable - rise of Islamization not through violent, but peaceful yet vigorous spiritual ways and means.

Slobodan Mitric's Books May Cause Panic in Belgrade, But He Is No Murderer!

 

Amsterdam, February 4, 2012 - The melodrama involving the packages of books sent to the Serbian Public Prosecutor for War Crimes Vladimir Vukcevic in Belgrade (see image on the right) covered by our press release two days ago under the title “Slobodan Mitric's Books Cause Panic in Belgrade” has taken a turn for the worse.  For the three articles under the headings "Belgrade's Crisis Disrupts Vladimir Vukcevic", “UDBA Agent: I Sent Two Packages to Vukcevic” and "Another Package Arrived for Vukcevic published by the newspapers Novine and Kurir in the Serbian capital can, with due respect, only be described as muckraking journalism (see PDF attachments with the Serbian original texts and other relevant material - here in this blog not available). 

The result of this public disinformation and scare mongering was that the noble intention of Mitric to supply the said Public Prosecutor with discriminating material in the form of his 7 books (see attachment Confirmation) in order to encourage the launching of criminal investigations and finally bring the dark forces behind a number of unsolved international heinous crimes against humanity (e.g. 911) to justice was reversed: Slobodan Mitric himself is not only labeled but also shown (see the photo on the left) as a dangerous murderer, a threat to public safety, who should therefore himself be put behind bars! However, the articles yielded at least the knowledge that it was in the first instance not the Dutch government that is intending to deport him to his homeland, but that it was the Serbian government that asked the Netherlands for his extradition in order to bring charges against him for the murders described in his books that he wrote while in Dutch prisons Geheim Agent van Tito (Tito’s Secret Agent, not translated) and Tito's moord machine (Tito’s Murder  Machine, not translated)!

"I Did Not Kill Anyone!"

But ho, Slobodan – Serbian’s President Boris Tadic is his cousin - is not a killer. On the contrary, as a top counter-intelligence agent, he was forced to adopt that false image in order to penetrate the very dark forces that he later in his literary works has brought to light! This is what the postscript reads to Appendix IX in the Dutch version of his true crime "Dead End Road - Why the Dutch Secret Service Murdered Their Top Secret Agent Theo van Gogh" that is scheduled to appear on February 10:  "Although Slobodan Mitric was convicted for the above ‘liquidation’ [the shooting incident in Amsterdam on 25 December 1973 at Café Mostar, in which three of his countrymen were killed] he disputes this. In reply to an e-mail dated January 21, 2011 under the title "I Did Not Kill Anyone" to a friend in Belgrade, he wrote: ‘The truth is that I did not kill anyone. The bullet that hit my right hand on December 25, 1973 (as a result of my preventing the murder of Dutch uniformed police officers) was fired from the same gun with which the two UDBA agents were killed. In order to stay alive, I had to ascribe it all to myself, because on December 24 and 25, 1973 I was not only shot at by the UDBA, but also by the secret service of the Netherlands. I was only defending my bare life.
We will see what happens…’ This also goes for his two novels Tito's Secret Agent and Tito's Murder machine. The described killings are done in the name of the narrator and thus the writer, but he adopted the guilt of the murderers  as a kind of identity swap with the true culprits in order to be able put their murder story on paper ... This may be compared  to the wise old hermit Trevrizent from the story of Parzival by Wolfram von Eschenbach, who did penance for his sick brother the Grail King Anfortas, who was ultimately healed by the redemptive question put by Parzival "Uncle, what ails you?" with the help of the Risen One."

A further symptom of this muckraking journalism are a number of factual inaccuracies, even defamations, e.g. in the E-novine article, which one could easily have been avoid by doing some research on the internet or contacting his “alleged” publisher Robert Kelder in Amsterdam by e-mail, who would have referred him to the texts and documents and Mitric’s CV from e.g. The Golden Tip . Thus, Mitric did not refuse to become an UDBA  liquidation agent to kill immigrants, he already was a counter intelligence agent directly responsible to Marshal Tito to control the UDBA and did not refuse to liquidate immigrants, but quite specifically to kidnap and/or kill the head of the illegal Marxist-Leninist Communist party Vladimir Dapcevic in Brussel.  To write that “he presents himself as a Doctor  in Science” is nonsense, because he does no such thing for he attaches no great importance to the honorary degree in law that he received in 1986 for, among other things, his trilogy Operation Twins from a Police Science College in Arizona on the recommendation of his foster father US Major General Raymond Healey, former CIA Director for Asia and Europe. He is no commander in chief of "The Serbian Army", but the publisher and chief editor of a magazine with that name founded in the 90's in Amsterdam together with his wife, the artist Iris de Vries. Furthermore, he was not a sort of unofficial president of the "Free State of Serbia" in the Netherlands, but its one time officially appointed president, earlier Minister of War, and has never called upon any Serbs abroad to eradicate members of the Kosovo Liberation Army. Instead he has saved the lives of many people, even that of unthankful Dutch Crown Prince William-Alexander, as described in his book "The Golden Tip", not to mention his part in ending the Cold War between America and Soviet Russia through his Operation Twins trilogy, which earned him in 1986 that honorary doctorate in law after which he became European and later World Director of International Reserve Police.  (See Slobodan Mitric www.willehalm.nl ). And finally, it is commendable that E-novine calls for the translation into Serbian of Mitric’s The Battle of Kosovo, but that play written was originally written in that language in 1989 to commemorate the 600^th anniversary of that historical clash of civilizations and has already been translated into Dutch and English. Pertinent would have been to call for its production on stage!

Incomprehensible is the description in the Kurir article by Robert Kelder as "alleged” publisher of Slobodan Mitric, because I wrote on 1 February a confirmation to that newspaper (see attachment Confirmation Kurir) that as Mitric's publisher I had sent twee packages to the public prosecutor and, this I write now, I certainly did not add anything  for the bloodhounds of the terrorist units in Belgrade that could made them freeze. What I have not written to Kurir is why Mitric did not bring his packages to the post himself. That is because  for a year and a half he no longer dares to go out for fear, after a series of unsuccessful attempts, to be liquidated, and because he is so physically ill and weak that he can barely walk. Mentally however, he is, unlike what is implied by a Dutch newspaper and elsewhere without any reference to his books,  perfectly clear, and despite his physical condition capable of working a couple of days without sleeping.

Thus here are some corrections of errors in these two newspapers. I demand that they be corrected,  mainly because of the added danger tot the personal safety of my writer, for the most evil result of this character assassination could be that based on that misinformation someone could come upon the idea to take law into his own hands and as a so-called good deed take his life. I end by calling upon all people of good will to assist Slobodan Mitric to in his personal struggle for freedom, peace and justice.

Robert Jan Kelder
www.willehalm.nl
http://willehalminstitute.blogspot.com

FOREWORD - Does a Dead End Street Have an Exit After All?

The new novel by Slobodan Radojev Mitric, Dead End Street meets the expectations raised after the release of his second last novel Help! They’ve Kidnapped Me! Lady Di! By means of short, concise dialogues the writer leads the reader through the story. He traps, describes and unravels. The story is clearly and concisely defined. The characters are recognizable by their dialogue, which is often juicy but never banal. Written in pure literary language with here and there the necessary jargon.
Slobodan Radojev Mitric is an experienced writer in a field that I would call the political crime genre. The heroes are mostly fictitious and otherwise, at least their names are such, the location of the events are that only occasionally, while the content always comes from our daily, political and criminal life. In almost all of Mitric’s novels, as is here the case, there is a sophisticated and metaphorical quest for the invisible and chief culprit. The reader is expected to adopt caution and a critical attitude towards the events which the writer describes. Instead of excitement, which police novels usually offer, this one also suggests, like all his other novels, a deceptive hope that whoever reads it, will see the presupposed moral side of the novel, its gentle yet strong message: Wake up people - this takes place in your, our surroundings! So also here in this novel, the terrible and - for a normal person incomprehensible - murder of filmmaker, artist and columnist Тhеo van Gogh. A crime that reminds me of the recent murder of Santa Claus in Tajikistan. 

The content of the novel leads us, after the description of the actual events, to think seriously about the presence of more and more radical believers among us, who do not shy away from senseless violence and murder. The world has become a strange place. In some countries, even in the democratic West, they know how to sentence outsiders for a verbal offense, which although pronounced was not implemented, in the East, unfortunately, especially with Muslims, they can therefore not just plain kill you, but even cut your head off. As if there is a difference between these two crimes? Neither of them, not in the West nor in the East, is good, and that is brought in a convincing manner to our attention by this short, fast-moving, sharp and interesting novel with the metaphoric title Dead End Street.

Finally, let me say that in this novel it is not Theo van Gogh, who was murdered, but that it is suicide by the fundamentalists, whom are increasingly to be seen in the political sphere, as if many of them have switched from the religious sphere. This novel urges us to think about whether we have come to the end of a dead end street, or whether, despite everything, there is still a ray of hope. If we would have no hope, we would not live, right? Those reading Dead End Street will, I hope, find an exit. Politicians and clergymen will face a tougher task: they are fond, I am afraid, of dark, narrow and mysterious alleys.

Dr. Prof. Rade Bozovic

Prof. Dr. Rade Božović was born in Vojvodina in a place that later changed its name, so that a broad section of the population would not get to know who was Pašić (1845 - 1926, Serbian, later Yugoslavian premier). He was an assistant at the university of Belgrade, afterwards professor, distinguished translator, author of some 20 books and member of the Serbian Writers Union. 

Letter of Appraisal by Dusan Tesic LUŽANSKI

Dear Slobodan,

The book has arrived. I've received a few days ago. I read it the same day.
But I needed some time to process all the impressions after reading it. I've never read a book that evoked so much excitement with me as reading your book did.
The style is beautiful and the description of the characters and events is unmatched.
To evoke in people such a significant and exciting experience in only 88 pages, you have to have a special gift. But also experience.
I needed, as I said, a few days to process all the impressions, concerning the most dramatic period in European history, which you, only you it seems, recognizes.
The event itself is not important, it is what lies behind this event that is so important and that only you seem to understand.
Islam has invaded the political life of a European country. One of the richest and most democratic countries.
I have already written in my books that the third millennium is characterized by the unstoppable advance of the Islamization of Europe.
Is that correct? You live there and are more aware of the dramatic times that Europe is now experiencing.
This is the third Islamization of Europe within the last fifteen hundred years, only this time it is unstoppable and permanent.
Do the Dutch people realize what is happening to them? And what is the official response to your book?
My sincere congratulations on your knowledge of the circumstances and events. And my sincere hope that you can repeat this performance again.

Your Dušan.

Dušan Tesic Lužanski is a journalist by profession. His working life, he spent with the [Yugoslav] Politika newspaper as a commentator on foreign political events. His work dealt with two main energy sources - oil and nuclear technologies: energy sources which during the second half of the twentieth century determined the political, economic, military, technological and other relations between the superpowers and other countries and nations of this planet.
His CV mentions that during his journalism career he attended more than three thousand conferences and that as a journalist he wrote more than twenty thousand pages text for the newspaper where he worked.

Chapter 1 - Submission

"STOP! No! No! And no!" cries Тhео.

The cameraman stops filming.
"What now?!" grumbles the actress.
The director gets up from his chair. He walks with arms outstretched to the beauty, until he stands in front of her face. "You female, that is anything but convincing."
"Аh!"
"No ah! Cоncentrate and try again. Come on, now full of enthusiasm ... Look into the camera and think about your first lover, understood?"
She begins to blush, but the director can see nothing of it. The niqab covers her whole face except her eyes. "Okay! Oay ... "
Тhео goes back to the chair marked 'director' and sits down. He gazes around and once satisfied that everyone is ready, he sticks two thumbs up. "Let's go!"
The cameramen set their cameras. A girl with a black-faced clapperboard comes forward on which is written in white chalk: SUBMISSION 1/3 (Scene 1. Take 3 ...). She lifts the top of the wooden clapper up and lets it come down to the bottom.
BANG! It sounds dull.
The actress, dressed in a transparent black silk and niqab in her arms a rolled up small rug takes two steps forward on the big luxurious carpet. Her body sways back and forth, as if she just stepped into a lake. Her full breasts and swollen like ripe melons after a spring shower rock gently back and forth. The actress leans forward and gently spreads the cloth out. She stands upright again. With her bare feet she steps on the rug. With a penetrating glance she first looks into the camera, then spreads her arms and brings her hands to her face and as if doing gymnastics, spreads her arms again after lowering them.
The camera men zoom in.
SUBMISSION 1/4  The same girl reappears with the black clapperboard in front of the camera. BANG!
"Allah is great. In the name of Allah the Beneficent, the Merciful!" Again she brings her hands to her face, immediately lowers them and continues. "Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the worlds. Most Gracious, Most Merciful. Master of the Day of Judgment! You alone we worship and Thee alone we ask for help. Leads us to the straight path. The path of those upon whom You have bestowed favor. Not the one of those upon whom wrath is brought down, nor of the heretics. Amen."
The actress lies with her face down on the carpet; she turns her body and raises her hands. "Оh Allah, while I lie wounded here, my spirit broken, I hear in my head the voice of the Judge who finds me guilty, my sentence you have pronounced: ’Scourge every adulteress and adulterer with one hundred lashes and let not pity distract you, as Allah prescribed this, if you believe in Allah and the Last Day, let a party of believers witness their punishment.'"
The director makes a cutting motion with his hand in the air. The cameramen stop filming. Theo gets up and walks to the actress, while he extends his hand to her. She stands up and he says, "Much better, much better! But now like you're in the mosque. Again."
The director goes back to his seat and sits down. "Yes! Once more, but I want you now to give all of yourself ... "
The actress nods."Okay!"
Satisfied, Тhео smiles. "Let's go!"
The cameramen zoom in again.
SUBMISSION 1/4 Again the same girl with the clapperboard comes in front of the camera. BANG!

Chapter 12 - "Jewish Bacon Cunt"

Two men and a woman step inside the residence of the mayor of Amsterdam. The mayor welcomes them, "Welcome, gentlemen."

The newcomers shake hands with their host. "Thank you. Thank you."

The mayor assigns them seats and the guests sit down. The woman is the first to speak. "The matter is complicated. But don’t worry; we’ll turn a blind eye."

The Mayor smiles benevolently. "That of course is in your interest, Madam Minister."

"In the interest of the whole country," says the chief commissioner of the Amsterdam police.

"Of course," nods the chief public prosecutor.

"To be honest, I feel sorry for him," says the mayor.

"If you ask me, he's crazy," says the chief.

"Gentlemen, if we do not silence him in time, I'm afraid that we cannot prevent a bloodbath. The Muslims in Amsterdam are bitter," says the mayor.

"Not only in Amsterdam but in the Netherlands they are furious," explains the Minister of Immigration and Naturalization.

"That is good for your party. Then you have a reason to dislodge all Muslims from our beloved homeland.”

"That's not true. This harms all parties. Don’t you think so?" she says to defend herself.

“Right, we have no alternative," the mayor adds.

"Okay, gentlemen, but what if it the word gets out that we all knew about this in advance?"

"This is not going to leak. The Muslims will dismiss this as an act of a fanatic," the mayor replies confidently.

"Are you sure?"

"Don’t worry."

*

In the residence of the governor of Amsterdam, the whole conversation taking place in the mansion of the mayor is followed by the Governor and the Director of the General Intelligence Service; this service placed during a renovation of the building secret microphones in every room.

"Jewish  bacon cunt," says the Director of the General Intelligence Service angrily.

The governor looks at him.  "What the hell is that?" he asks.

"That’s how we call Jews, the Jews that eat bacon."

"But does the mayor eat bacon?"

"No offense, but he eats shit. I didn't literally mean bacon."

The governor coughs in his fist. "Hm. Hmmm. I see. You mean it figuratively."

"Yes! What a hypocrite!"

“Politics is, as you know, a very dirty business.”

"Unfortunately."

Chapter 13 - Tribute to the Prince of Death

Today is a day like all others, the Java Street is as usual full of passers-by, yet there is something else going on. All shop entrances on both sides of the street are decorated with garlands of different flowers. The shopkeepers dressed in festive clothes are standing as straight as candles in front of their stores. From Java Square, on the left side, until the tunnel, thousands of fragrant roses are spread out on the pavement. A young Moroccan dressed in royal Islamic clothing, like a figure from the fairy tale Thousand and One Night, surrounded by handsome fellow countrymen acting as his bodyguard, walks slowly over the flower-strewn steps of Java Square to the tunnel. The shopkeepers bow low before him. Approaching him one by one they kneel on the pavement, kiss his hand, and then anxiously, as if they fear it is not enough, they stop rolls of European banknotes in the same hand.

The Prince of Death deftly hands the gift to one of his companions, bows to the giver, who humbly goes to the side, and calmly walks on.
In front of a laundry mat with the number 51 stands a fairly large Arab. His beard reaches almost to his waist. When the Prince of Death reaches his shop, a plain-looking Arab - he looks like he accidentally ended up here - comes between the Prince and the bearded Arab.
One of the companions of the Prince of Death - built like the mythological God Atlas - grabs the unfortunate passerby and throws him like a rag doll to the side. The unfortunate man folds like a ripe pumpkin against the wall of the shop and after gathering himself goes, constantly excusing himself, away in direction of Java Square.
The bearded Arab bows to the ground. First he kisses the feet of the Prince of Death, and slowly getting up, gently takes the hand of the Prince, kisses it and fills it with a big bundle of bank notes...

An old scrap iron-collector with a hidden camera in his scrap-cart is filming the tribute to the Prince of Death.

The trio walks towards the tunnel and enter the supermarket 'Dirk van den Broek’.

The old iron-collector parks his scrap-cart opposite the supermarket in front of a payphone. He grabs his camera and sits down on a bench. A uniformed policeman with the rank of sergeant walks up to him. "What are you doing here?" he asks sternly.

"That's none of your business."

The policeman put his hand on his gun. "ID!"

"I'm a Dutchman."

"Credentials"

The scrap iron-collector takes his identity card and hands it over. "We're colleagues."

The policeman looks at the card. “Look who we have here, James Bond."

"I have been ordered to ..."

"What have you been ordered to do?"

The man shows his camera. "To film."

"Are you crazy? Do you want to spoil everything!?”

"That’s none of your business."

"Аha! You wanna play that game?"

The policeman grabs the camera. He pulls the film out of the camera, puts it in his pocket and then gives the camera back to the owner. "So, now you can shoot as much as you want, but without a film."

"Give me my film back!"

While this is happening, another police officer with the rank of inspector leaves a computer repair shop and walks towards the tunnel. "What’s going on here?"

The sergeant smiles. "Sir, here's spy from RIAD."

"Аhа!"

"Mr. Inspector, he’s taken my film!"

"That's his job."

The sergeant puts his hand on his gun again. "Get out of our district!" he says in a rough voice.

"I’ll report that you confiscated my film!"

"Report as much as you can," the police inspector snarls. "And now get lost, or I'll beat you up completely."

The scrap iron-collector obediently gets up from the bench and walks with his scrap-cart through the tunnel towards Eerste van Swindenstraat.

Both policemen walk back to the computer repair shop. The sergeant hands the film to the owner of the store, who then pays each of them two thousand euros.

Chapter 14 - Arms Dealer

A fat man firmly holding a bag rings the bell three times. The front door opens. With difficulty the fatty climbs the stairs leading to the attic. There the imam awaits him smiling. ”Shalom, Ron.”

"Shalom! Shalom my dear imam," the guest greet backs.

The imam lets him in. "Welcome! My staircase takes away your breath, I see. Come, sit down."

Panting like a dog, the fat man sits down. "Give me a glass of water, please."

The imam takes a bottle of mineral water from the fridge, opens the bottle, brings glasses and puts them on a small table in front of his guest. "Help yourself, dear Ron."

The guest quickly pours himself a glass of sparkling water and drinks it all at once. "Thank you!"

"Have you got it?"

The fatty pours himself another glass and drinks it in one gulp. He sets the glass on the table, wipes his mouth with one hand. Looking at his host, he opens the bag. "Of course."

“I’m curious.”

The guest pulls a gun out of the bag and gives it to the imam, then grabs a box with 50 bullets and two empty ammunition magazines. "Good quality."

The imam inspects the gun carefully and places it on the table. Then he takes the ammunition magazine and opens the box of bullets. "Awesome!"

The dealer stands up. "Charge it when I'm gone. Show the money!"

The Imam lays the ammunition magazine back on the table and walks over to a closet. He opens a drawer, takes out a thick envelope and walks back to his guest. “Five thousand. As agreed."

The guest opens the envelope. "Five thousand thus."

"Count it when you leave," quips the imam.

The arms dealer puts the envelope back in his bag and smiles. “Ha ha, you pay me back in the same coin."

The imam walks smiling to the door and hold it open. "Exactly."

The dealer leaves the attic.

Chapter 15 - Assassination

Amsterdam, Tuesday, November 2, 2004

"Dad, can you give me ..."

Тhео interrupts him. "Only 50 euros".

"100, Dad!"

"100!?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Why do you need so much money?"

"My sneakers are broken."

“Aha, and now you want to buy new ones?"

"Yes, Dad."

Тhео takes out his wallet and gives his son the money.

"Okay, but I think sneakers are a bit cheaper."

The boy grabs the money and runs to the exit from the living room. "Thanks, Dad! You’re ... "

"The best father in the world."

"Yes, Dad!"

Happy, the boy leaves the house.

*

Тhео looks at the clock; it's already been half past eight. He puts the butter, cheese and remaining milk back in the fridge and stops the bread back into the stainless steel lunchbox. He washes his hands and dries them. He does not forget to splash cologne on his face and suit.

On leaving the house he locks the door. Slowly he walks to his bike, removes the lock and hangs the chain on the handlebars. Handily he jumps on the bike and leaves Pythagorasstraat towards the Linnaeus-quay.

In the white van, parked fifty meters from Theo's house, an Arab enters a number on his mobile. He gets connected immediately. “The pig is coming.”

"Okay," responds the imam. "Get out of there!"

On the top floor of the building adjacent to Theo's house, a secret agent looks through the window. He calls central command with his radio. "Commissariat, commissariat".

"Yes!"

"The lion has left the cave. He is taking the same route as always. "

"Okay!"

*

Тhео sets off from Pythagorasstraat and turns left on Linnaeuskade.  At the end of the street, he turns right on Middenweg and heads for Linnaeusstraat.

On the other side of Middenweg a gray Audi is parked. A young Arab presses a number on his mobile phone and gets connected immediately. "The Dutch pig is coming towards you."

"Okay. Get out of there, "says the imam in a commanding tone."We don’t need you anymore."

The Arab starts the motor and drives towards the neighboring village of Diemen.

On the same side of the Middenweg where the Audi is parked, ten feet away, a black van full of masked police officers in military fatigues is parked. In it, the head of the Special Unit for Combating Terrorism calls Central Command through the radio. “Hаllo, commissariat!"

From Central Command the officer on duty responds. "The lion has turned right onto Middenweg in the direction of Linnaeusstraat."

The head of the Special Unit is surprised, but reacts calmly. "Yes!"

"Trail him, but keep your distance."

"Okay."

The black armored van turns its blinkers on to indicate that it is turns left, drives slowly over the tram rails and then turns left again. Slowly it drives in the same direction as Theo.

*

To the left of the Linnaeusstraat, in front of the multi-pie-shop, a big Moroccan looks how Theo passes by on the bicycle path towards the tunnel. He calls someone on his cell phone. "The pig is about ten meters in front of the tunnel."

"Okay," replies the Imam. "Get out of there!"

The Moroccan jumps on his bike and cycles on Pretoriusstraat in the direction of Steve Bikoplein.

In the armored van of the Special Unit sounds a voice over the radio: "Јаn! Do you hear me? "

"Yes! Go ahead."

"Where are you?"

"A hundred meters before the tunnel, in Linnaeusstraat."

"Stop following," says the voice of the officer on duty.

"What?"

"Orders"

"Are you crazy?"

"Go to the police station, here, turn right. There they will explain everything to you. "

The head of the Special Unit is flabbergasted and swears, "Damn it! Fuck you, all!"

*

Тhео passes by supermarket Albert Heijn and cycles on towards Oosterpark.

The imam, who sits in the office with one of his followers, dressed in a burka and and working as a civil servant in the Amsterdam East District Office, looks through his binoculars attentively out the window. Seeing Theo pass by the supermarket, he immediately makes a call with his mobile and says sternly, "Rachid, that Christian pig is ten meters in front of your street. Give the tool to the Chosen One and get out of there."

"Okay."

One of the bodyguards removes the pistol from his waistband. From his pocket he pulls an additional magazine. All this he gives to the Chosen One. "Аllahu аkbar! Action! "

The Chosen One stops the gun in his waistband, the magazine he puts in his pocket.

The second body guard gives him two knives, a big knife and a small one.

"Аllahu аkbar! Kill the pig! "

The chosen one, who has turned white pale, stops the big knife in his waistband and the small knife in his pocket. "Аllahu akbar!"

The Chosen One sees Theo pass by Vrolikstraat, where he and his bodyguards are out of sight. Тhео is only ten meters in front of him. The Chosen One pulls his gun and ride towards Theo, shouting like a madman, "Now I'll show you Dutch pig, how great God is!"

Тhео instinctively turns around and sees the Chosen One come towards him. He turns pale with fear, his face is ashen. Quickly recovering, he starts pedaling with all his might. The Chosen One shoots and misses. He shoots again. While shooting he comes closer. Theo loses control over his bike and falls. He  stands up immediately but the Chosen One jumps from his bike. Theo screams and begs, "Please don’t!"

The Chosen One shoots and shoots. He empties the magazine and Theo falls on his back. He manages to to lift his head. The Chosen One stops the empty pistol behind his waistband and pulls his knife. Тhео looks at him. "Please don’t do it."

The Chosen One walks up to him and bends. With the knife he cold-bloodedly cuts Theo’s throat. Then he takes his small knife and a piece of paper from his pocket, which reads: "To the Jewish whore Aisha. You await the same fate as this pig." The letter he lays on Theo's chest and punctures it with a small knife. Then he grabs the large knife and thrusts  it to the bottom in Theo's chest, right through his heart. "АLLAHU AKBAR! ALLAHU AKBAR! "

He stands up and pulls the gun from his waistband. The empty magazine he removes and puts it in his pocket. From the same pocket he takes the spare magazine and puts it in the gun. Loads the bullet in the barrel. A policeman on a motorcycle rushes to the scene of the crime. The Chosen One notices him and shoots. He hits the policeman, who loses control of his motorcycle and falls. The motorcycle slides a few meters over the asphalt. The Chosen One runs to the entrance of Oosterpark and disappears in the park.

*

At the police station, the officer on duty comes in action. He gives the order to all police units in Amsterdam: "Theo van Gogh has been murdered in front of the district office Amsterdam East. The killer is dressed in white traditional Muslim attire; he has fled into  Oosterpark. Shoot him in the legs. I repeat: Shoot only in his legs. We want him alive.”

In Amsterdam hundreds of sirens sound, speeding towards Oosterpark…

The End