Nuclear Surprise

by Rob Carnell

  "Thank you father, this will be a most worthy charitable work."

  The next day one million dollars was wired into Kamal’s U.S. bank account.

  The building Kamal had found was a dilapidated old boarding house not far from Cambridge. He arranged for a bank transfer for payment. He did not even haggle on price. The building was not in high demand, so the price was discounted anyway. Next, he hired a team of contractors, and six weeks later the alterations were complete. A sign that read Boston Muslim Brotherhood was placed above the main entrance.

  A forty year old refugee from Egypt called Amir was hired through an agency to be the manager. He was also to run the small general store attached which supplied the traditional food supplies needed. Amir also did the catering for the dinner meal which was supplied to the students.

  Kamal had no trouble finding tenants, since he subsidized the rent. Muslim students were lined up at the door when word spread through the campus. The place was full within a week of opening.

  None of the Muslim students or even the manager Amir had any idea that Kamal had financed the whole project. The title deed for the building was in the name of an untraceable holding company and they also handled payments to Amir.

  Chapter 6

  Boston Mosque

  Boston, Massachusetts

  26 Years Ago

  * * *

  WHILE KAMAL began with no real interest in electronics, he swiftly learned to love the way that the laws of physics governed all things. The more he learnt the more he wanted to know. His professors thought his work was top class, and most even expected Kamal to stay on to teach at M.I.T. after he had graduated.

  He tried his best to abide with the strict teachings of Islam, but immediately found this almost impossible in the uncultured United States.

  Razak, Kamal’s father had insisted that Kamal attend a mosque regularly whilst he was studying overseas. Soon Kamal became a regular member of ISB, the Islamic Society of Boston. There were a number of mosques in Boston, but the favored one was the small congregation located not too far from Cambridge. This mosque was presided over by Imam Hillali. As well as presiding over prayers, it was also the realm of the Imam to give rulings on Islamic questions of faith, and to keep a watchful eye on younger members of his flock.

  Imam Hillali of course did some research on Kamal after his first visit. He needed to be certain that there were no spies in the congregation, so he had each new member vetted. This was not too difficult since westerners were discouraged. Hillali knew a network of religious leaders in other countries. They worked together quickly to ensure the sanctity of their community.

  If there was ever any question at all about a new congregation member, they would be questioned by members of the faithful. If the answers they gave were found lacking, they were forbidden future entry.

  The Imam was excited when he received answers back from an old friend in Riyadh. He learnt all about Kamal’s family and their untold wealth. It was decided that Kamal would be subject to special guidance.

  One morning, at the conclusion of organized worship, Hillali approached the young man. "Kamal, how are your studies progressing?"

  "Teacher, I am applying myself diligently to my work" said Kamal truthfully with a bowed head "I study every hour that I can. My grades are all excellent."

  "Wonderful, I am pleased to hear this. Allah needs smart young men to further our cause" began Imam Hillali.

  "I have an overseas visitor staying with me for a few days, please come and share tea with us." A request from the Imam was an order not to be refused.

  As they sat cross legged in the Imam’s residence, a surprisingly tall man with bright blue eyes, a bushy beard and white scull cap joined them. He was a little older them Kamal.

  "This is my friend The Sheikh" said the Imam as he made the introductions.

  "Sheikh, this is one of my young students, Kamal."

  Kamal took the lead from the Imam and used a similar address.

  "I am honored to meet you Sheikh. What brings you to Boston?" asked Kamal.

  "I have business interests all around the world. My aim is simply to further the cause of Islam. I can be quite forceful in the way I do this."

  Imam Hillali took this as his queue to leave to attend to other matters.

  Over the next three hours, Kamal was fascinated with the stories told by The Sheikh, of life in Afghanistan, Bosnia and Sudan. He had no idea Islam was under such attack from the West.

  Kamal had belonged to a relatively benign sect of Islam, but the Sheikh began to explain to him the teachings and beliefs of the other sects. Kamal had no idea that Islam could be interpreted in so many different ways. The Sheikh explained the subtle and not so subtle differences in beliefs between Sunni, Wahhabi and Qutbism.

  Kamal walked home to the Brotherhood that evening excited and full of enthusiasm. It felt wonderful to belong to Allah’s chosen people. He knew he had choices to make in his own life and decided to learn more from the Sheikh.

  In fact Kamal went back to the Mosque every day during the Sheik’s U.S. visit. The pair had lots in common. Kamal learned that the Sheikh also had a background in engineering, having obtained a degree in civil engineering in 1979.

  In the second week of his visits, as Kamal was rising to depart, The Sheikh asked him a simple question "Think about your answer carefully before you answer. What would you be prepared to do for Allah?"

  Kamal could not sleep that night pondering this simple question. How could he simply ignore the Jihad and let people like The Sheikh shoulder all the responsibility?

  The Sheikh finally announced one day, "Kamal, I will be leaving the United States tomorrow. I hope we can continue to be friends."

  Kamal had tears well up in his eyes. In the short period of two weeks, The Sheikh had become more of an older brother to Kamal.

  Kamal’s father Razak never understood Kamal. But, Kamal believed that he and The Sheikh were soul mates.

  "How can I help the cause?" Kamal asked on his last visit.

  "I will be in touch" said a satisfied Osama bin Laden with a nod and a wink.

  Chapter 7

  Charles River

  Boston, Massachusetts

  25 Years Ago

  * * *

  THE M.I.T. sailing dock was located overlooking the Charles River in Cambridge. It is one of the most beautiful places in picturesque Boston. It could be an unwelcome place in the middle of winter, but at this time of the year it was a wonderful place to be.

  The M.I.T. sailing club had many members, and one in particular was the reason that Kamal had come down here today for his first practical sailing lesson.

  Geraldine Flynn was a lovely looking girl with flowing red hair and freckles. She was in a couple of the same classes as Kamal, but seemed never to notice him when Kamal tried to make contact. Kamal did some clandestine research on Geraldine, and found out that her passion was sailing. He decided that was how he would win her heart. To him there was no question that he would have this woman. He had no doubt that he could win her over. It was just a matter of planning and time.

  Kamal had taken a couple of books from the library and now knew the physics involved in propelling a small craft through the water. He was surprised to learn that sailing boats could sail almost into the wind by pulling the sails tight. Doing this created lower pressure on the front of the sails, causing the craft to be pulled forward almost like an aircraft wing.

  Now it was time for him to learn the practical side.

  He was very disappointed when he returned to the dock three hours later after his lesson. It seemed to him that the volunteer instructor was more interested in a nice afternoon on the river rather than to impart any real knowledge to his student.

  Kamal decided that this was not the best way for him to learn. Later that day, he took a walk around Boston Harbor and found a commercial sailing school not far away.

  "How long will it take me to learn to sail" Kamal asked the ex-America’s
Cup crewman who now ran the sailing academy.

  "That depends on how much you have to spend and how often you can come down here" was the honest answer from the weathered sailor.

  "Then I am sure it will not take very long" said Kamal smugly.

  His lithe physique was ideally suited to the sport of sailing, and he loved his time on the water.

  Kamal was extremely proficient after two weeks of almost constant lessons and he received a certificate of comGregncy.

  Inscribed on the certificate was a quote that Kamal always remembered:

  We cannot control the wind, but we can trim our sails.

  His instructor was impressed with Kamal and asked him "Do you want me to find you a crew position on a racing boat?"

  "No thanks, I want to sail on smaller boats. Thank you for your tuition. You are an excellent teacher."

  The next weekend he turned up at the M.I.T. dock with his certificate and hired one of the one man single skiffs. It was much easier to sail than the larger boat he had learned on, but Kamal found that the wind had a much greater effect on the little boat’s performance.

  During the week he did some research on the prevailing weather conditions. He also studied some theoretical texts on sail shape. The mathematics was surprisingly complex.

  The next weekend he entered a race. He did well at his first attempt finishing in the top half dozen. His heart throb Geraldine was also racing. Kamal pretended not to notice Geraldine on the water, and was easily able to beat her home around the final buoy.

  As he was unrigging the little craft, Geraldine noticed Kamal. She came over to him and finally spoke to him "Hello, aren’t we in some classes together?"

  Playing it nonchalant Kamal countered with "I think maybe we are. My name is Kamal Pashwari."

  "Hi, I am Geraldine Flynn. You are a pretty good sailor."

  "I used to sail on our family yacht at home" said Kamal in an outright lie. But then lies had always come easily to the young Saudi.

  Geraldine was still dripping wet. "It’s freezing out here. Would you like to go grab a coffee?" asked Geraldine.

  "Of course, I would love to" said Kamal truthfully this time.

  Thus began the first and most memorable love affair of his life.

  Sailing on the Charles River became a regular thing for them. They even sailed a boat together to win one of the inter university races.

  Chapter 8

  Boston Muslim Brotherhood

  Cambridge, Massachusetts

  25 Years Ago

  * * *

  IT WAS a cold day on the East Coast. The roads were icy and the sidewalks had a dusting of snow.

  The warmest place to be was in his room, and Kamal was lying on his bed reading one of his school texts.

  The telephone rang loudly and Kamal pounced on it.

  "Hello" said Kamal.

  "How are things in Boston, my young friend?" Kamal instantly recognized the qyiet accented voice of Osama bin Laden.

  "Sheikh! I am so glad you called."

  "Tell me of your studies" suggested bin Laden.

  "School is going well Sheikh. I am in the top five percent in all my classes, and only two more years to go until I graduate."

  "Excellent, it is important to learn. Education will prove the background for everything you accomplish in life. Study hard."

  "What can I do for you Sheikh?" asked an excited Kamal.

  "There is a letter waiting for you downstairs with Amir" explained bin Laden.

  Kamal was very surprised. He had not told the Sheikh how to contact him or his address.

  "When you have read the letter, please memorize it and then destroy it."

  "Of course, Sheikh. I am glad that you have chosen me to help. What do you need me to do?" asked Kamal.

  "It is all in the letter. We will talk again soon."

  Chapter 9

  Boston Central Post Office

  Boston, Massachusetts

  25 Years Ago

  * * *

  THE POST Office was not far from The Brotherhood building. He was able to take a bus from Cambridge into town.

  The letter from bin Laden had contained only a post office box key, and the address of the post office, nothing more. Kamal was disappointed at the time, but now also felt a sense of intrigue as he approached the ageing brownstone post office on foot. It was nearly midday, and there were a lot of people buzzing around on the streets. Kamal kept scanning the area looking around. He had the icy feeling he was being followed, but he saw no-one.

  He quickly located the post office box, number 79. The key opened it easily. Inside was a regular envelope. Kamal was surprised it was so light. He thought it best to read it somewhere quiet, so he slipped it into his inside jacket pocket and walked to a nearby bus shelter and sat down.

  He removed the single typed page from the letter immediately, putting the empty envelope back in his jacket pocket.

  The note asked him to attend a meeting in a downtown coffee shop together with a telephone number. The note also told him to meet four hours before the time to be set in the telephone call.

  "Hello brother" announced the voice when he called immediately.

  "This is K. . . "

  "No names!" interrupted the voice.

  "I am sorry. What time would you like to meet?" asked Kamal.

  "Is 7pm convenient my friend?"

  "Yes, that will be fine. See you then."

  Kamal tore up the note into small pieces dropped the pieces into a trash can.

  The appointment gave him a couple of hours to kill. Kamal just wandered around central Boston. He came across a sporting goods store.

  "How can I help you sir?" asked the athletic looking man behind the counter.

  "I need a new pair of sailing gloves" suggested Kamal.

  "I’m sorry Sir, we don’t stock boating equipment."

  "Oh. Thanks anyway" said Kamal glancing down into the display case. It contained a large selection of hunting knives.

  "Do you hunt sir?" asked the man excited by the prospect of a sale.

  "I’m afraid not" announced Kamal.

  "I thought sailors carried a knife in case they got tangled in the ropes or something" insisted the salesman.

  "I guess that would be a good idea" mused Kamal "do you have something that is not too large?"

  "This one has a razor sharp locking blade but folds up easily," said the delighted salesman reaching for one of the most expensive items.

  Chapter 10

  Smiling Bean Coffee Shop

  Boston, Massachusetts

  25 Years Ago

  * * *

  AS SUGGESTED in the letter, Kamal arrived at 3pm, four hours earlier than the agreed 7pm time.

  He was not expecting any trouble here, but the feeling of the new knife in his pocket was a comfort.

  He was not quite sure what to do, so he just grabbed a cup of tea and sat down at a quiet table in the back. There was a newspaper on the table and he thumbed through it.

  Kamal wondered how he would know his guest, but he did not have to worry, the guest had a picture of Kamal in his pocket to study.

  A few minutes later, a man who was already in the coffee shop came over to Kamal’s table and sat down. He was short but had the stocky build of a weight lifter. The beard made it hard to guess his age.

  "Hello, I am Roy, I am pleased to meet you Paul" said his contact.

  Kamal did a bit of a double take but realized that he was not to use his real name.

  They shook hands quickly.

  "What can I do for you Roy?" asked Kamal.

  "All in good time," suggested Roy.

  They chatted innocently for thirty minutes about the weather, Kamal’s study, and about Islam.

  Eventually Roy decided the time was right "Paul, I need someone to do some errands for the cause, can you help?"

  "Of course Roy, what do you need?"

  The stranger produced a small package from inside his gym bag.

 
"Please deliver this."

  There was an address already written in block letters on the package. Roy gave Kamal some additional instructions about time of delivery and the route to be taken.

  "One last thing" whispered Kamal’s new friend "it is best only to carry that knife when you might need it. You could draw attention to yourself if you are searched by the police carrying it during the day."

  Kamal was quite stunned at this warning, it seemed he was right about being tailed.

  Kamal delivered the package exactly as he was asked. He had no way of knowing that the package was filled with shredded newspaper and this was just a test.

  In fact he had been clandestinely shadowed ever since he had left his room at the Brotherhood earlier in the day.

  If Kamal had deviated from the instructions given to him in any way, he would have been immediately terminated.

  These were very careful people.

  Chapter 11

  Boston Muslim Brotherhood

  Cambridge, Massachusetts

  24 Years Ago

  * * *

  SO FAR, Geraldine and Kamal had managed to keep their relationship quiet, Geraldine had insisted. In truth, she was a little embarrassed having Kamal as a lover. She was worried what her friends would think about her having an Arab companion.

  Of course, women were not permitted in the Brotherhood building. But then again Kamal reasoned, since he owned the place, he would choose to make his own rules.

  It took some ingenuity for Kamal to find a way to smuggle Geraldine inside. She was quite excited at the idea.

  Kamal’s room was up one flight of stairs. There was a fire escape ladder that could be accessed from outside Kamal’s room. He noticed that it was quite old and rusty, so he oiled the joints so it could be swung down silently.