The house’s interior was in keeping with the exterior, neat enough, but bespeaking a “make do” attitude. They dropped their bags, looked around and made themselves comfortable in the living room.
“My nephews, I’m so happy to be with you tonight and share with you some exciting news. We have been given the go ahead to conduct an act of heroism against the tyrant that allows our brothers and sisters to starve, to not be educated, to live in deplorable conditions, and to be treated as slaves by other nations. I have been watching each of you for a long time. You have emerged as the leaders of your family of cousins. Tonight, I’m going to tell you why we’re here and what we have been called upon to do.”
Mustafa for the first time told the four boys in the room about what had happened in Iran. He confided how the boys had been taken from their true families and placed with the people whom they thought were their mothers and fathers. There were soft gasps. All eyes were on him and wide-seeming as saucers. He told the boys that these people who had raised them were not truly man and wife, but that they also had been taken away from their original families and put together by the leaders of their country, leaders who had grown tired of sanctions and being humiliated by the United States and the Western world. These leaders had conceived a grand plan that would take over twenty years to implement. He talked about how the leaders had the patience to take the long term view. “We had been oppressed for thousands of years; twenty more was nothing, if it would allow us to exact the revenge we so desired.”
He began to describe the mission. He showed the boys maps of the targets in a city with which they had all become quite familiar due to the field trips Uncle Mustafa had taken them on over the years. The boys understood well the symbolism of the sites they would target. They began to ask questions, not about, why, but rather were concerned, instead, with logistics. Mustafa was quite proud, not only were the boys willing to undertake what needed to be done, but they were immersing themselves in bettering the plans.
However, Kamal, one of the cousins, began to ask questions that disturbed Mustafa.
“Why us? We have not lived in Iran for most of our lives. Why is this our battle?”
Mustafa had anticipated some push back. He knew it was important to answer, but also not to let such matters derail their purpose. He hadn’t expected it to come from Kamal. Next to Aziz, Kamal was a strong leader and he was counting on Kamal to play a key role.
“Kamal, you have been blessed to be in a position to take this revenge. Others are not as fortunate as you. Others would give anything to be in your position to exact this revenge, but can’t. You must stand up for them.”
“I fail to see what this country has done to me. Our families have found success here. We’re getting good educations. It seems we might possibly be able to do more if we worked with Americans than trying to destroy them.”
“You are young and I appreciate your idealism,” Mustafa assured the boy. “However, our leaders have chosen another course. They believe it is the time for revenge and our best opportunity to strike out and inflict great pain. Then, maybe we will talk to the Americans.”
“It seems pointless! They will not let us just take their buildings. They will not allow us to destroy their history.”
Mustafa’s patience was running out. He noticed the others started to show concern and give affirmation to Kamal’s words. Mustafa needed to stop this.
“Kamal, please allow me to continue. I have only begun to outline what is being asked of us. I think if you will let me continue, it will become clearer. If not, we can discuss your questions further.”
Kamal nodded dutifully. “Yes, Uncle. Please continue.”
They had talked through and discussed the plan for almost three hours, when Mustafa decided it was time for a break. They reluctantly broke off the conversation, and each took a turn going to the single bathroom. A couple of the boys went into the kitchen to scavenge for food and Mustafa found a menu on the refrigerator for a local pizza place, which delivered. He called and ordered three large pizzas and several liters of soda. He wanted to reward the boys for their efforts so far. Mustafa was so excited that he believed nothing could cause them to fail.
After the pizzas arrived, Mustafa asked Kamal if they could talk privately. Kamal stood up and walked with Mustafa down the hall, to a bedroom in the back of the house.
“I’m disappointed in you, Kamal. I had thought you would be a strong leader for me; but now, I have my doubts”
“Uncle, I support the cause you want us to fight for, but I’m not in agreement with the tactics. We’re in a good position here to bring about change by using the ways of democracy that they have in this country.”
“I’ll not hear of that. This is Satan’s land. We will never work within their system. There is only one way and that is to destroy this country.”
“I don’t believe we can. We do this and they will just do more harm to Iran and our people. Uncle, we will bring about more death and pain to our families, and do little to this country. They will rebuild. They will come back. I can not support what you ask of us.”
“I understand Kamal and I’m disappointed. I respect your decision however, it is no longer possible for you to continue to be with us.”
“I understand uncle. I’ll leave now. I’ll tell no one.”
“Yes, you must leave now, and you will never tell anyone!” Mustafa pointed to the door. Kamal turned and began to walk toward it. Mustafa grabbed the boy’s face with his left hand, his right hand already snapping open the straight razor. As Kamal made to cry out, Mustafa raked the blade across the boy’s throat, cutting him from ear to ear. There was a gurgling sound as Kamal began to clutch at his throat, Mustafa letting the boy flop to the floor, sidestepping to avoid the arterial spray. Blood puddled from the artery onto the carpet. Mustafa did not question the will of Allah that this boy should die. He wiped the razor and his hand clean of blood on the boy’s shirt.
Mustafa walked to the door. The mission would be complete before the family who owned the home would return from vacation, so he didn’t need to worry about disposing of the body or make any attempt to clean the room.
Mustafa rejoined the group and restarted the discussion. “Kamal will no longer be with us.” The others looked back at the closed bedroom door.
Chapter Forty-One
In the morning, after Mustafa had led them in prayers, the boys loaded everything into the van and returned to Mustafa’s house. Mustafa had them meet in his basement, so that no directional eavesdropping could capture their conversation. It was time to move from the general overview of the mission and discuss specific roles and responsibilities. He again went to the map of the target area. It was a different map from before. This version had color-coding in different areas of the map. Mustafa explained that the colors corresponded to each one of them and told each boy which color he was assigned.
Aziz’s area of responsibility corresponded to the color yellow, the yellow section of the map in the lower center, consisting of three buildings. Aziz knew the area well and he knew what the area meant to the citizens and the history of the United States. He was intrigued with what his Uncle had told them so far and he was trying to figure out what exactly was his mission would be.
Aziz was pleased his Uncle felt he was ready to be a leader. He respected his Uncle greatly. Mustafa had taught Aziz much, more than he felt he ever learned in school. His uncle meant more to him than Akmed did. Aziz could no longer consider Akmed his father, knowing that he was not. He had mixed feeling in regards to Mahasin. She’d been kind to him and he felt she’d loved him and he loved her back. He might always think of her as his mother.
Mustafa had moved down to the yellow colored area of the map and was looking at Aziz.
“Aziz? Are you with us? I know I have covered a lot, but this is important. I’m going to be telling you your exact role.”
“Yes, Uncle. I’m sorry. I was just thinking about some things you had said. I’m with yo
u and very much want to hear what you have to say.”
“Good. Good. You have a critical role. You and your team, unlike the others who only have one building, will take over and hold these two buildings. It will be a challenge, but critical to our overall success. You will also need to keep an eye on the perimeter at the back of this building. This is most likely one area in which the police and their SWAT teams will try to retake the building. I’ll give you more details on what you will have at your disposal to protect yourselves and your teams. Remember these are historical buildings. They were built solidly, but they aren’t fortresses. With them being in the downtown area there are many vantage points for the police to watch you. You must stay away from the windows and in your other building you must use the tarps your team will have to block the large window. If you don’t succeed in doing these things you risk the success of the mission.”
Aziz nodded throughout the explanation. He understood what would need to happen and what he was responsible for during the mission. It was a huge task, with many risks in the heart of the city. If Mustafa believed in him, then Aziz knew he would be successful.
When each cousin understood his assigned role, Mustafa began to discuss the overall logistics of the mission. He knew it was complicated and if he’d had more time he could have given broader information but, that luxury was gone. At least Allah had blessed him with smart boys. They picked up the information quickly and continued to be engaged, even as he saw the awareness on their faces of what he was asking them to do.
No one flinched, no one-raised objections. Perhaps it was only because of what happened to their cousin but, Mustafa hoped it was more. He wanted these boys, his boys, to be as committed to what they were doing as was he. It was the only way they could be successful.
The boys had maps and diagrams laid out in front of them. The maps had been marked with arrows and listed directions. Each map showed where the boys would be dropped off and how they would proceed to each target, showed and described in detail how they should enter and how they should deploy their cousins. With the maps came a list of the supplies and equipment each would have with them.
“Your cousins will be joining you here in the next hour.” Mustafa interrupted the boys’ thoughts. “You should be thinking about how you will communicate to them. It will be critical that each of them understand these three things. First they can talk to no one, not even their parents about this. You may tell them their parents know they will be doing this with Uncle Mustafa, but they cannot share any of the details, second, they must completely understand their role by the end of the day. Finally, they must be committed to what we do. No one can hesitate or it will cause disaster. We can only be successful if we all do this together. We’re a family and we must work and act like a family when we do this.”
All of the boys nodded. While they had a level of fear about what they were being asked to do, their fear of their Uncle was greater. For Aziz it was all coming together, the time spent with their Uncle, the drills, the team competitions, and the “talks” about the evils of The United States. It all made sense, that this wasn’t something their Uncle had just decided to do. Aziz could tell from the maps and the instructions that this had been in the works for some time. He wondered how much his father knew? Aziz had seen the boxes in Mustafa’s van that had been in the storeroom at his father’s shop. His father must have ordered these items and would surely have asked what they were for — unless he already knew.
His Uncle Mustafa appeared anxious. Aziz took that to mean that they would be underway soon. He was surprised at how Mustafa had dealt with Kamal, since Aziz had liked Kamal. As Aziz looked over his directions and the map itself, he would stop and think of asking Kamal a question or an opinion, only to remember the Kamal was no longer there. He thought Kamal was the smartest of all of them, seeming to always know the answers to the questions Mustafa would ask. Kamal was quick to figure out how to fix things or come up with an alternative which allowed them to be successful. He would have been of great value.
Aziz focused on the other cousins who would be part of his team. For the most part, he felt he’d have the strongest group. His only worry was with a couple of his youngest cousins. It wasn’t that their support wouldn’t be there, because they would go along with whatever the group was doing. He was more concerned about their ability to keep up with the others and to stay focused when things would get crazy. Aziz had no doubt that things were going to get crazy.
Chapter Forty-Two
Jordan returned to the command post the next morning. He’d spent what sleep time he could at a hotel in Center City that they were using to grab rest. He’d slept for almost four and half hours but, more importantly, he’d gotten a good hot breakfast of oatmeal, poached eggs and bacon — what he called his “breakfast of champions.” His special breakfast always picked him up and allowed him to face the good and the bad of the coming day. He was ready for action and wanted to move, but he knew they couldn’t because they didn’t have enough information on anyone and didn’t know when, where or how.
He walked into the post, and was immediately aware of the subdued tone in the room. At breakfast, he’d gotten a copy of the Philadelphia Inquirer and read the articles on the deaths of the two officers. A veteran near retirement and a young female rookie who seemed to have all of the talent and skills to be a great police officer – both were now gone. The city had become a war zone. He knew many of the people with him would know the sergeant who was murdered. Jordan was still nagged by feeling that even though, on the surface, there seemed to be no connection with the numerous cop killings, there had to be a tie. Something bothered him, usually, when cop killings happened in large numbers, there had been a trigger point, such as a trial in which suspects were acquitted even though the public was convinced of their guilt, or at other times, the cause might be a police crackdown on drugs or other criminal activity, which resulted in retaliation killings by those who ran the illicit businesses. However, in Philly, none of that had occurred.
As he entered the main room of the apartment, not many of the agents and officers looked up. Jordan gave a nod to each that did because, he knew what they were feeling. Over the years, he’d lost men, many of whom were friends. It was never easy and, while one would try to rationalize it because of the mission or the service they provided, the death was still a person who was gone. He’d found, at such times, it seemed to be best not to say anything. Words seemed meaningless.
He did want to find Kate and Max as soon as he could, however. He headed down the hallway to the back bedroom they were using as their office. William was there.
“Hey, pretty tough night for these guys.”
William turned away from the window and looked at Jordan. “Yeah, most knew the Sergeant. Top-notch guy. They’re taking it pretty hard, but they’re also professional; so, they’re on the job.”
“Have you seen Kate or Max?” Jordan asked.
“Here we are,” Max said, both women looked as somber as the rest of the group.
“Guys, I’ve been thinking.” Eyes rolled around the room. Whenever Jordan had an idea, it usually meant work for them.
“Okay, let’s hear it,” Max sighed, never knowing what tangent Jordan would pursue, but well aware that his track record was pretty good in that regard.
“These cops being murdered have me intrigued. There’s no reason, no cause for the effect. I want — I mean, I would like to ask Kate’s team to dig into these suspects. It’s interesting that they all ended up dead shortly after they committed the murders. I think there might be a link, but I don’t think it’s going to be found on the surface. I think looking into the families might provide some details.”
“Interesting,” Max looked over at Kate. “Can you spare a few people to track this down?”
Kate smiled. “If it was anyone else, I would say no, but I think I can free some folks.”
“Great.” Jordan grabbed William. “Who’s in the best shape out there that
can work with Kate, but also keep quiet about what we’re doing?”
“That would be Pat. He’s sharp and he definitely would want to help and knows when to keep his mouth shut.”
“Great, William. Will you get him together with Kate?”
William nodded, already starting to leave the room.
“Kate — thanks. I know you aren’t swimming in resources, but I think this might lead to something. How quickly do you think you might have some preliminaries?”
Kate laughed. “Wow, I don’t even know what to look for and you’re already asking for a report?”
Jordan shrugged, adding, “Let me know as soon as you find anything, huh?”
Chapter Forty-Three
By late morning, the rest of the cousins had arrived at Mustafa’s and were grouped into their teams. Aziz, along with the other leaders were going through the plans. Assignments were being given out and Mustafa had told each team he wanted them to brief him and go through their assignments at noon.
Anyone who walked past would have assumed that Mustafa once again had his nieces and nephews over as they played games in the yard. The neighbors knew not to disturb these family events. Any of the neighborhood kids who would try to join would be politely turned away and told this was for family only. Any adults trying to have a conversation with Mustafa would find he wasn’t interested in anything but being with his “kids,” as he called them. The neighbors admired him for the time and commitment he made to his nieces and nephews, saw the respect the children paid him and felt he was having a strong impact on their upbringing. If they only knew, Mustafa had often thought, the idea amused him.
Enemy Among Us-A Jordan Wright Thriller Page 16
