by Suzi Weinert
“So what we heard was bad enough,” Jennifer said, “but it could have been worse?”
“Yes, much worse. A mastermind, let’s call him ‘Foreign Leader’ imbedded about a dozen men in every state, twenty to thirty years ago. A week ago he smuggled operatives into each state to lead those sleeper cells in terrorist attacks. Let’s call the one arriving in Virginia last week ‘Local Leader.’ He moved into a sleeper’s house in McLean with diamonds to fund this attack. Local Leader hid the diamonds and you know what happened next.”
They nodded, knowing all too well.
“You know the events taking you to the bank, where you wisely called police, enabling us to nab cell members there and at your house. Those still at large tried trading your grandson for the diamonds. Fortunately, only terrorists were injured in that confrontation and we captured more cell members. One of them revealed during interrogation you brought only half the diamonds, which he threw back to you before his arrest. Yours was a smart move.”
“Yes he did. They were tied in a sock.”
“Furious that you caused them to lose many cell members, that you kept the diamonds, that you compromised their attack here and that you humiliated them at every step, Foreign Leader told Local Leader to eliminate you.”
Jason sat forward in alarm. “You mean a fatwa?”
“In Islamic faith, a fatwa is a legal judgment made by a qualified mufti on an issue pertaining to Islamic law. An Islamic death sentence is only one example but has become the one commonly thought of here. We believe this wasn’t a fatwa but a simple hit—because you stood in the way of their mission and made them really mad in the process. When he got the order, the Local Leader assigned a cell member to do the job. That man shot at you through the window, Mrs. Shannon, and when you fell down, he thought he’d killed you. Fortunately, luck was on your side.”
Jason muttered, “And I only learned what happened when I asked about the hole in the window.”
Steve continued. “That’s when we asked Fairfax County Police to protect you with a cruiser parked in front of your home. The patrolman checked the perimeter of your house twice an hour.
“Once we destroyed the cell, we told police to remove protection because the threat was over.”
Jennifer reached for her husband’s hand. “The threat is over, Jay. That’s why the cruiser left.”
But Jason seemed edgy. “Steve, how did you learn about this local terrorist cell in the first place?”
“A sleeper placed in McLean twenty-five years ago decided not to join the terrorists even though he was sent here specifically for that purpose.” Steve remembered Ali. “At their first meeting, they asked if anyone wanted out. One did but knew defying them meant death. He approached us that morning for witness protection. That afternoon he bailed with his wife and kids, and we arranged an explosion at his home that, as far as anyone knew, killed the entire family. He told us at that first meeting he saw ten others, nine of them sleepers sent to blend seamlessly into the population. A brilliant, long-term plot implemented by Foreign Leader, whose true identity we now know, by the way.”
“Thirty years?” Jennifer marveled. “What planning and patience.”
“Oh, yes. Thirty years is nothing. They feel time is on their side.
“About then, your son-in-law, Adam, alerted us to a psychic’s vision. Though not verifiable, it underscored details close to what we knew. We learned more yet from the seven members we captured, thanks to Mrs. Shannon’s involvement. That left two at large. Then Local Leader also defected. He told us Foreign Leader substituted cash for the lost diamonds and sent ten replacement cell members for the seven we caught, so the attack was back on again. But we got them all and confiscated the military weapons in their warehouse. They bought them from a Russian cartel, giving us another unexpected link to a group working against us.”
Jason smiled, “It’s the story behind the story, as Paul Harvey would say.”
“Now the bottom line,” Steve said. “The good news is I bring the gratitude of Homeland Security and your country, Mrs. Shannon, for the role you played to help us deal with these terrorist attacks. We can only guess how many thousands of lives you saved across the nation. Predictably, several government organizations, including ours, initially ginned up ‘valid’ reasons to confiscate those diamonds. But considering your service to our country, we unanimously decided you should keep them, with the full blessing of your government.
“And the bad news…” Jason asked warily.
“We strongly advise you not to bring unwanted attention to your diamonds. You don’t want the terrorists to know you still have their treasure. Like the Mafia, they have big ears and long memories for revenge. You don’t want them to pick up your trail again.”
“Just a minute now,” Jason said. “They tried to kill her once, so they already know who she is and where she lives. Why do you think they won’t use that knowledge to harm her again?”
“Local Leader gave us two reasons: first, Foreign Leader didn’t ask for her name, and second, when the assassin the Local Leader sent to do the job said he killed her, the Foreign Leader was told she is dead. If he doesn’t know who she is and he thinks she’s deceased, she should be safe.”
Jason and Jennifer exchanged uncomfortable looks.
Steve shrugged. “Look, they’re a secretive organization. We don’t really know what eyes and ears they have in the U.S. This cell operating right under our noses exemplified that. But if you hush the diamonds, we think you’ll be okay. If we hear anything different, we’ll tell you immediately.
“Any questions? If not, I thank you for your time and, Mrs. Shannon, for your remarkable contribution. Here’s my card if you need to contact me about this.”
He stood to go. They thanked him and showed him out. After he left, they stood awkwardly in the foyer, looking at each other.
“He says it’s over at last, Jay, so why don’t I feel relieved?”
He shook his head as if to clear it and said sarcastically, “Well, enough happy time. I need to deal instead with something I can control—your broken windshield. Do you suppose our insurance company covers us for an act of grandchild?”
117
Friday, 5:30 PM
Jennifer stood at the foot of the stairs to call her husband, but a car circling the cul-de-sac caught her eye and she looked out the front window instead. She half expected to see firefighters or medics or a protective police cruiser. Hard to accept a threat’s end once you’re geared for fear. She studied the empty Donnegan house across the circle, remembering early days when both their houses rocked with boisterous family activity. No happy holiday ahead for the Donnegan children this year, but at least they wouldn’t wrestle with their father’s misdeeds. She glanced down the street at the other houses, so similar on the outside, so different on the inside.
Turning, she called up the stairs, “Jay, it’s the cocktail hour. Want a glass of wine?”
“I’m on my way down.”
By the time he reached the kitchen, she’d poured two glasses and handed him one. “Cheers.”
"Actually, three cheers." He grinned and at her questioning look explained, "First, you're a national hero, Jen. Homeland Security says so. True, you can only tell the immediate family but I think it's incredible and salute your service to our country with a toast."
She smiled her surprise as they clinked glasses and sipped.
"Mmm, a good Malbec." He continued. "Second, we toast your windshield repair at ten o'clock tomorrow and third, repair of the broken garage door an hour later at eleven. "
Into the swing she added, "And fourth, shouldn't we also toast becoming three million dollars richer with the government's blessing?"
“We are but we aren’t, Jen.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“If we hush up the diamonds as directed, how can we sell them? How can we declare them as a financial asset? Where did they come from? Who knows where the terrorists’ eyes and e
ars he mentioned may hide? In the back room of a jewelry store, in our CPA’s office, with the IRS? And if we make a mistake, murder could be the payoff. Who knows when the future knock on a door signals they discovered you’re alive and are making the hit? If anyone else is at home that day, what do you think is their fate? Jen, Jen, I don’t want to scare you but I don’t know how to protect you.” He shifted uneasily. “It’s gnawing at me.”
“Look, Jay, the situation isn’t ideal, but unless they tell us differently, I’m going to assume we’re safe to live normally. We’ll figure a way to make the diamonds pay off. Here’s your first brilliant solution.” She wiggled her fingers so the flashing stone in her new ring dazzled with light. “I know you’ll think of others. Thank you, Sweetheart, for this thrilling gift, a fabulous surprise you schemed up all by yourself.”
“Guilty as charged.” He smiled and slid his arms around her. He pulled her close, smelling her perfume. “White Diamonds?”
“When you gave me this perfume for Christmas last year we didn’t dream the name would fit this new page in our lives.”
He held her out at arms’ length. “You are the rose in my garden of life. I love you, Jen.”
“Still?” She looked up into his eyes. “Even after all these years and madcap adventures?”
“Still.” But as an afterthought, “Although you could make life easier for me in the future.”
And then a new thought struck her. “Guess what, Jay, I have an exciting idea.”
“Jen, I adore you, but I’m not brave enough now to face one of your exciting ideas. These days they strike terror in my heart.” He blanched. Did that mean he lived with his own terrorist?
She smiled. Today was Friday. Tomorrow the weekend garage sales began in earnest.
“Now what’s that Cheshire Cat look on your face?” he asked.
Her smile broadened. She put her arms around him and whispered. “He who loves the rose must accept the thorns…and even the knock on a door.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This is my chance to thank those who graciously gave their time and shared their knowledge to improve accuracy in this story. If errors exist in my novel, they are my mistakes alone.
Veronika Viktorovna Bardonner, a native of St. Petersburg, Russia, now an American citizen in Indiana, told me about her native land, language and proper names. At CHAIN BRIDGE BANK in McLean, President and CEO John J. Brough, Heather Schoeppe and Mubeen Baig walked/talked me through my bank scenes. Cyndee Cannon, wife (and co-employee) of Mike Cannon, manager of McLEAN HARDWARE, filled me in on the company’s history, mission and community service. My sister and “cheer leader” Margo Gibbs read the first draft, edited typos and said it’s a “page-turner.” Carole Greene, my invaluable, ingenious editor and dear friend, masterfully coaxed my manuscript to show its best face. Chief Investigator Terry Hall, assigned to Fire & Hazardous Material Investigation in 1983 and with Fairfax County & Rescue for the last 42 years, gave me important insights for my fire scenes. Wink Harned, a hunter since age nine and a deer hunter for many years, proofed my hunting scene. Bob Maurer arranged an enlightening tour with staff insights about Tyson Corner Shopping Mall. Mutahara Mobashar, a Muslim friend and librarian at Central Rappahannock Regional Library in Virginia, guided me with Islamic names, insights and references. Rabbi James H. Perman of Naples, Florida, a professor of Jewish Studies at Florida Gulf Coast University, read and commented on the accuracy and legacy of my Genesis chapter. L. Tod Ross, a professional jeweler for thirty-five years, shared his engaging knowledge of diamonds and the jewelry business. Dr. Paulette Salmon, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, answered my veterinary drug questions. Nicola Tidey, RPL, E-911 Director for Orange County, Virginia, gave me input about operators’ responses to emergencies. Doctors Julie and Bill Wilson checked my medical scenes for believability and, authors themselves, made other helpful suggestions. Lt. David Winter, veteran of the fire service since 1999, member of the Fairfax County Fire and Rescue since 2005 and practicing lead medic, supplied me with information about fire and rescue techniques.
REFERENCES
I borrowed ideas and direct quotes from American Ways: An Introduction to American Culture, 3rd Edition, Datesman, Crandall and Kearny, 2005 by Pearson Education, Inc.
In The Holy Quran, 2003, Goodword Books, West Market, New Delhi, translated by Abdullah Yusef Ali, I read the story of Ibrahim.
In The Torah: A Modern Commentary, 1981, Union of American Hebrew Congregations, New York, I read the story of Abraham.
The Clash of Fundamentalisms: Crusades, Jihads and Modernity by Tariq Ali, 2002, Verso (London, NYC)
Islam: A Short History by Karen Armstrong, 2000, Modern Library Edition (Random House)
A Brief Illustrated Guide to Understanding Islam, 1997, Darussalam Publishers and Distributors, Houston, TX
Now They Call Me Infidel: Why I Renounced Jihad for America, Israel and the War on Terror by Nonie Darwish, 2006, Sentinel (Penguin Group)
Standing Alone in Mecca: An American Woman’s Struggle for the Soul of Islam by Asra Q. Noman, 2005, Harper (San Francisco)
Growing Up bin Laden: Osama’s Wife and Son Take Us Inside Their Secret World by Najwa bin Laden, Omar bin Laden and Jean Sasson, 2009, St. Martin’s Press, NYC
The Terrorist Next Door: How the Government is Deceiving You About the Islamist Threat by Erick Stakelbeck, 2011, Regnery Publishing Inc., Washington, D.C.
Religion of Peace? Islam’s War Against the World by Gregory M. Davis, 2006, World Ahead Publishing, Inc., Los Angeles, CA
The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements by
Eric Hoffer, 1951, Harper & Row Publishers
READING GROUP QUESTIONS
1. Discuss whether we accept what we’re told rather than fact-finding on our own.
2. Discuss the pros and cons of profiling in the current times.
3. How do you think we should balance trust and vigilance as individuals? As a nation?
4. Discuss trying to solve a kidnapping situation yourself verses turning it over to police.
5. Did this story make you uncomfortable? Why?
6. Which of the story’s characters do you find most believable? Explain.
7. Discuss what you think the future holds for Khadija and Ahmed.
•••
No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review. For information regarding permission, please write to: [email protected]. Copyright © 2013 Suzi Weinert. All rights reserved. Barringer Publishing, Naples, Florida. www.barringerpublishing.com. Cover, graphics, layout design by Lisa Camp. Editing by Carole Greene. ISBN: 978-0-9896338-5-7. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data. Garage Sale Diamonds / Suzi Weinert. Printed in U.S.A.
