‘The man that you are looking at goes by the name of The Teacher, AKA Al-Mudarris, AKA Abdul Bin Jabbar. The world presumes him dead, he’s not. Abdul Bin Jabbar is alive.’
I ended the recording.
I calculated the time in England. It was about half-past six in the morning. I made a phone call to the only person that I thought that would do this. My heart accelerated with every ring and when it was answered, it raced a little more and just for a second I’d forgotten why I’d called.
‘Jay,’ she said.
‘Sophia,’ I said. ‘Did I wake you?’
‘No,’ she lied. I could almost picture her shuffling up against the headboard. ‘Tell me you’re okay?’
I turned my head back over my shoulder and glanced at my dad.
‘I’m okay,’ I said. ‘But I need a favour. You can say no if you—’
‘Yes!’ Sophia said.
I smiled. I think she did, too. I told her that I was going to send her a video and explained what had to be done with it, and I think I trusted her to do it.
‘Go,’ she said. ‘I’ve got work to do.’
I pocketed my phone.
Now… it was over.
There was nothing left to do but turn my attention to my dad, and I wasn’t sure which one of my contradictory emotions would emerge.
Chapter 73
The Teacher
One year ago Bin Jabbar first set eyes on his son. He knew, then, that nothing would ever be the same again. It would be the start of his downfall and the demise of his life’s work.
The victories he’d celebrated when he’d driven a hole through the West, and the failures he’d suffered when he’d watched his people perish seemed insignificant, whenever he was near his son.
Bin Jabbar had long lost the ability to express emotion on his face, but he smiled anyway. Smiled as he recalled trying to convince his beloved Afeesa that their firstborn would be named Javid. It meant eternal. He knew now that he was wrong, that nothing lasts forever.
Besides, Javid preferred to be called Jay.
If he could find a voice, Jay is what he would call his son. If he could find the strength, Jay is what he would whisper in his ear as he held him tightly in his arms.
But he couldn’t do any of that.
So he just blinked at his son and took in every word that came out of his mouth.
‘They’re coming for you, again.’ Jay stood in front of his father, his face that of a child, small and innocent. One that didn’t belong there. ‘But this time won’t be like the last. I made sure of that.’ Jay nodded to himself. ‘Me and you, we’re even. I don’t owe you a fucking thing!’
Bin Jabbar watched his son carefully, committing every detail to memory. Jay forced a hand through his hair and kicked up earth under his feet as he walked in small circles, as though doing so would take back what he’d just said, but it just seemed to make him angrier.
‘You should see yourself. The fucking state of you. Is this what you wanted when you set out to be a hero, the big fucking man?! Can’t move, can’t talk. Can you even fucking hear me?’
Bin Jabbar heard every word. He let it in, cherished it.
Jay smiled to himself, there was great sense of sadness to it. ‘I didn’t know how I’d feel when I saw you again, but now that I have, I don’t ever want to see you again.’
Jay took a step closer to his father, and another until Bin Jabbar could almost feel him, almost touch him. He crouched down and reached out, gently touching his hand.
Bin Jabbar’s enemies may have riddled his body with bullets and transformed him from a crusader to a cripple who had lost any sense of feeling in his body. But he felt his son’s touch.
Jay looked up at his father and said, ‘I wish they’d killed you.’
Chapter 74
Jay
I chose not to say another word.
I sat back and dug my palms into the dirt either side of me and stretched my neck up to the heavens and wondered whose side God was on. The sun had now gone into hiding behind grey clouds and a drop of rain rudely slapped me on my forehead.
Beside me, my phone rang. I reached for it, expecting Imy.
‘Where are you?’
‘Jesus! I’ve called you a dozen times.’
‘Teddy?’ I said, as tired as I was feeling.
‘Can you talk?’ he asked.
I got to my feet and moved away from my dad.
‘Yeah, I can talk.’
‘We found Omar Bhukara.’
Omar! That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. As exhausted as my body was, my brain started shooting. Why hadn’t Lawrence mentioned the fact that I was surrounded by dead terrorists? Why hadn’t he mentioned that I was sitting three feet away from Bin Jabbar? I looked towards the hill, finally catching sight of Imy. He looked tiny in the distance, half walking, half sliding his way down.
Imy hadn’t made the call. Lawrence didn’t know.
I reached out for reason, but before it could come to me, Lawrence staggered up to me.
‘He was found along with his associate, Wasim Qadir, in the back of a camper van at a disused aircraft hangar in Coventry. They’d both been shot dead from close range.’
The rain picked up, a droplet dripped down the back of my shirt adding to the chill already travelling up my fucking spine.
Wasim Qadir was a forger and a weapons dealer. I knew this because last year when I was undercover for MI5, I’d met with him to secure sawn-off AK-47s and Glock 19s.
‘Tommy wasn’t there,’ I said. It wasn’t a question.
‘No.’
I swallowed hard, and started to test my theory out loud. ‘The van was empty. No weapons. No documentation. He killed them and took everything.’
‘It’s a theory that we’ve considered, but… it doesn’t fit. According to your intel, Omar and Tommy were going to meet with Wasim Qadir. Qadir was willingly going to supply them with guns and forged documentation. What motive would Tommy have to kill them?’
‘He never converted!’ I said. ‘I told you already that there was something off about him as soon as I set eyes on him. There was coldness there.’
‘It’s a stretch, Jay.’
‘No, it’s a start! Tommy was a fucking loner, and in the absence of anyone likeminded, he used Omar, got close to him and spun him a fantasy about setting the world on fire. Don’t you see, it was just an in! It was the only way he could get his hands on weapons and documentation.’
I heard Lawrence sigh, his brain taking time to catch up with what I was trying to tell him. The idea that Tommy was on the other side was MI5’s very last fucking thought. I had once gone undercover to infiltrate Ghurfat-al-Mudarris, and now Tommy had done the same fucking thing for his own hateful gain.
‘There’s got to be a target,’ I said.
‘Where?’
‘Are you serious?’ I ran a hand through my wet hair, and laughed incredulously. ‘You really don’t know shit! This man was born and raised in Southall amongst Muslims, it’s all he knew, and all he knew is all he despised. That’s got to be the starting point. Look at surrounding Mosques, especially Fridays, there are four in Southall alone, and a lot more in surrounding areas. Look at Asian festivals, at Muslim weddings. Work it the fuck out, Teddy!’
He took a moment to reply.
‘As soon as you step back in the country, I’d like you to come in. Your experience may be of value.’
It was a clumsy way of asking for my help. I didn’t think I had a part left to play, but on the flip side I saw things that they never could. I had the ability to play devil’s advocate and see the war from both sides.
I opened my mouth to answer, but somebody else had his attention. I heard hushed and rushed voices.
‘Hold the line, Jay,’ Lawrence muttered.
I pressed the phone tight to my ear. There was some rustling followed by silence. Followed by the sound of a tinny voice. My voice.
Sophia had executed her task by creat
ing dummy accounts and uploading the video via every possible social media channel.
I switched the phone to speaker, and opened up Twitter. In the search bar I typed in Bin and it quickly picked up #BinJabbarAlive. It had already hit 482,973 views, and that number was climbing rapidly. I didn’t expect the impact to be so quick. I should have.
Social media does not fuck around.
The world would wake up to the truth.
Lawrence was back on the line.
‘Jay…’ he said. ‘What have you done?’
I disconnected the call.
Chapter 75
Imy
It fell still around me. Silent. Flat on my stomach and looking through the scope of the rifle I watched Jay carefully. He had a way about him, uniquely his. He was pointing a phone at Bin Jabbar. It was clear what he was doing. Jay never bought into assurances that MI5 would present Bin Jabbar a fair trial. This was his insurance. I don’t think I could have stopped him even if I’d wanted to. Let it be. Let him enjoy his victory. It’d be short-lived. My actions would soon see him a broken man.
I got to my feet, and with my heartbeat hammering in my ears I started my trek down. I wouldn’t rush Jay. He had earned his moment with his father and right now, he was screaming and gesturing, expressing his love through anger. The moment was too personal for me to consume. I remove the sight away from my eye and focused on my footing. It had started to rain and the terrain had become slippery.
I reached the bottom of the hill, and walked past every cold body that I had put down. Jay acknowledged me nervously with a small nod before approaching me. He stood in my path, stopping me in my tracks.
Before I could react, he was on me, arms around me, his face nestled in the crook of my neck. I could feel the sheer relief coming off him. I looked over his shoulder, the back of Bin Jabbar’s fallen head in my sight.
‘You didn’t call it in?’ he said in my ear.
I took a step back and broke the embrace. ‘Go, Jay,’ I said, as I removed the Browning from my waistband.
Jay blinked at the gun, and I watched him with sadness as realisation dawned on him. I looked into his eyes and hoped that he understood what was in mine.
‘Call it in,’ he said, softly.
I released the magazine, it slipped smoothly out of the gripped handle and fell to the ground. I replaced it with another and retracted the slide, lifting a round into the chamber.
‘It’s over,’ Jay said, ‘Make the fucking call.’
I shook my head and brushed past him, blocking out his protests in my ear. I felt his fingers dig into my arm, an attempt to pull me back. I lashed out blindly with my elbow catching his head. Jay dropped to his hands and knees.
I strode away, the gun in my possession felt natural, as natural as it had when I’d executed each member of the Kabir family. I rounded the wheelchair and finally, I came face to face with Abdul Bin Jabbar.
With a steady hand I pointed the gun at him.
Chapter 76
Jay
Imy knew better than anyone what this meant to me. It had never once occurred to me that maybe, it meant more to him. I’d been blind enough to think that this was my story.
It wasn’t.
The rain picked up, warm and dirty and thick. I lifted myself off my hands and knees, wiped away the rain from my face, and blinked away the blood that had escaped into my eye from where Imy had struck me.
I moved cautiously towards him, past my dad, my eyes only on Imy. I held my hands up high, palms forward. I didn’t get too close, didn’t want him to react.
I remembered with such clarity the very moment when this had started, the day Imy had entered my home and pointed a gun at me. I remember the uncertainty in his eyes, the tremble in his hand. Make no mistake, this wasn’t that. His eyes were like stone and in them I saw nothing but absolute determination.
I stopped a few feet from him, making up the third point of a triangle, and tried to get a measure of the magic fucking words that I needed to reason with him.
‘Don’t,’ I said, softly. ‘Please… Don’t do it.’
He didn’t reply, didn’t acknowledge my fucking presence. I moved in a touch, an arm’s length from Imy. He didn’t flinch, knowing that he could pull the trigger quicker than I could make my move. I risked a glance at my dad, the rain racing down his face and drenching his clothes. I wondered if he was even aware of what was going on, if he realised that this was just another fucking consequence of his actions.
‘Let Teddy know we’ve found him,’ I said, desperately trying not to let my voice betray my emotion. ‘Let him rot away for the rest of his fucking life. Just make the call, yeah?’
Imy remained unmoved, steady. He was savouring the moment.
‘Do not make this personal,’ I said. It sounded arrogant. I was a fucking hypocrite.
His jaw tightened as he inhaled and exhaled short sharp bursts through his nose, his thirst for revenge was palpable. I could feel it, I could fucking understand it, but I couldn’t allow it.
‘It’s always been personal,’ Imy said. ‘For you. For me.’
I couldn’t tell the rain from the tears that were now falling freely down his face, and I had the urge to fucking cry along with him.
‘Look at him. He’s already dead. He’s fucking nothing, he means nothing to me. I get it, I fucking get it now. After everything I’ve done to find him, I want him to stay the fuck away from me.’
I couldn’t help it and I didn’t care if Bin Jabbar heard. My emotions were out, and every word that was flying out of my mouth was the truth. But it was the truth for now. Fuck knows my relationship with my dad was complicated. Fuck knows how I’d feel if something happened to him. I felt furious at him, at myself, for putting myself in this situation. For fucking what! The thread that connected us was so fucking thin, but it meant something to me, it always had.
‘He took away everything,’ Imy said, his free hand reaching up to steady the gun, his finger tightened upon the trigger.
‘No, wait!’ My feet scrambled towards him. ‘Please, just fucking wait. He didn’t kill your family. He didn’t give the order.’
‘It started with him. I’m sorry, Jay.’
If I’d stopped to consider it, if I’d had the fucking time, probably I wouldn’t have done it. But my heart was calling the fucking shots and my arm came up, my fingers wrapped tightly around the Desert Eagle handgun. It felt like a fucking canon in my hands and I had to fight to keep it up. My thumb reached across, flicking the safety and I pointed it at Imy.
It was hard to tell through the rain, but I saw it. I saw him nod. Barely fucking perceptible, but I swear to God it was there. The realisation struck me like a hammer to the head.
It’s what Imy wanted. It was the only way I could stop him.
‘I’m not doing it,’ I said and then I screamed, ‘I’m not fucking doing it!’
Imy’s finger whitened and tightened against the trigger.
The gunshot exploded in my ears.
I’d pulled the trigger before he did.
Acknowledgements
Over the last eighteen months, the one thought that had constantly sat in my head was I don’t know what I’m doing. The thought of filling page after page with words seemed like an impossible task. I needed support and I was lucky enough to have some amazing people around me to motivate me, inspire me, and just be there for me. I’d like to thank you.
My beautiful wife, you make me laugh like no other and your compliments are always delivered as an insult. But I see through them. My two boys, watching you grow is my true inspiration. My mum, dad and brother, I do this to make you proud of me.
The Soho Agency and Julian Alexander, my supercool agent, a much-needed calming influence in my life. I think you would have made an excellent crisis negotiator.
My amazing new editor, Katie Seaman. I didn’t know what to expect, but you have been an absolute delight and your advice is always on-point. I’ve really loved working with you,
and don’t worry I’m working on my inner Sasha Fierce. Lisa Milton, Lily Capewell, Isabel Smith, Jon Appleton, and all those at HQ/HarperCollins who have contributed to this book. Your support is forever appreciated. A special mention to Clio Cornish and Jamie Groves. There are signs of you all over this book.
To the reader, where would I be without you?
Finally, and most importantly, I thank God. Each day that I don’t get struck by lightning is a good day.
Enjoyed Ride or Die?
Make sure you’ve read the rest of the Jay Qasim series
Go back to where it all began with the first book in the series
Meet Jay. Small-time dealer. Accidental jihadist. The one man who can save us all?
Javid – call him Jay – is a dope-dealer living in West London. He goes to mosque on Friday, and he’s just bought his pride and joy – a BMW. He lives with his mum, and life seems sweet.
But his world is about to turn upside-down. Because MI5 have been watching him, and they think he’s just the man they need for a delicate mission.
One thing’s for sure: now he’s a long way East of Hounslow, Jay’s life will never be the same again…
Buy Now here
Don’t miss the explosive second book
Reluctant spy. Trained assassin.
Whose side are you on?
Jay Qasim is back home in West London and in pursuit of normality. He’s swapped dope-dealing for admin, and spends his free time at the local Muslim Community Centre or cruising around Hounslow in his beloved BMW. No one would guess that he was the MI5 spy who foiled the most devastating terrorist attack in recent history.
But Jay’s part in sabotaging Ghurfat-Al-Mudarris’ hit on London didn’t pass unnoticed.
Imran Siddiqui trained to kill in Afghanistan by the terrorist cell who saved his life after his home was destroyed by war. The time has finally come for him to repay them – throwing him headlong into the path of Jay Qasim.
Ride or Die - Jay Qasim Series 03 (2020) Page 33
