Following My Father's Path: Terrorism in America

By Ron Mullins and Barbara Crain

Following My Father's Path is a fictional thriller about the son of two terrorist. Mustaeeh Fahkri is born in the United States on September 11th, 2001 as fear spreads throughout the land. Exposed to cultural extremes as he grows up, he is at the same time learning to walk his father's path as a terrorist while also coming to appreciate the care and consideration provided him by his American connections.
The story begins at Mustaeen's birth and continues with his maturity into manhood; dealing with the conflict of the two cultures in which he lives.
The extremist group Sabil Saif is introduced as a terrorist cell of imported and home grown fighters carrying out the instructions of a former al-Quaeda member and trainer referred to by his associates as Adam.
The story builds as Mustaeen and Sabil Saif prepare for the twentieth anniversary of the deadly 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center in 2001.
Following My Father's Path is written by Ron Mullins with the assistance of Barbara Crain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ron Mullins
• Release date: May 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9780996239103

Ron Mullins

Ron Mullins is an Investment Management Consultant with an international Financial Services firm where he helps his clients with planning issues in investments, retirement and business succession. In an earlier life, he exercised his Airline Transport Pilot license at Continental Airlines flying right seat for their turbo-prop fleet. Prior to that, he flew helicopters in the Gulf of Mexico for the oil and gas industry. Early in his career, Ron compiled numbers as an accountant for local and international corporations. Ron retired from the US Naval Reserve as a Lieutenant Commander with over twenty years of active and Reserve service; beginning as a Private in the Army with promotions to Captain in the Army Reserves before transferring to the Naval Reserve. Ron and his wife Janet Wong, currently live in the Houston suburb of The Woodlands where they support the American Heart Association and occasionally find time to enjoy dinner out with friends.

Book preview

Following My Father’s Path

Terrorism in America

Ron Mullins

with Barbara Crain

This Book is dedicated to the Sheepdogs protecting the people from wolves.

Following My Father’s Path is published by Ronald Mullins and distributed by Smashwords.

Copyright 2015 Ronald Mullins

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Following My Father’s Path is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations and locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the imagination.

Special thanks are offered to Janet Wong, my wife as well as Chris Jones, with whom the idea sparked over lunch. Without their support and encouragement, this book would not be possible.

ISBN: 978-0-9962391-0-3 eBook

Cover by Betty Wong Creative Design

Terrorism in American, Following My Father’s Path

Table of Contents

How Did We Get Here?

Happy Birthday Mustaeen

1993

1995

1997

The Chosen One Arrives Amidst Chaos

2001

2003

2009

2010

2011

2013

2014

2016

2017

2018

2019

2020

2021

The Summer Before Hell Breaks Loose

2022

About the Authors

How Did We Get Here?

Abraham bore two sons; ironically, one of Egyptian descent with Hagar and one of Judean decent with Sarah.

From the beginning, jealousy and strife strained the house of Abraham and the great nations raised from the descendants of Ishmael and Isaac. Eventually warfare broke out between the Jews, the children of Isaac and the Muslims, the children of Ishmael.

As Christian rose up from their Jewish heritage, religious conflict between the children of Isaac and the children of Ishmael continued throughout the middle-eastern region; warfare would build then subside; dividing the children of Abraham for two thousand years. As civilization enters the Twentieth Century, global warfare over shadows the religious conflict until the conclusion of the Second World War, when the introduction of a Jewish state aggravates the foundation of the conflict and brings other nations into the fold as the fight between the children of Abraham expands into a Western culture versus an Eastern culture.

Saturday, September 11, 2021 – Happy Birthday Mustaeen

Today Mustaeen Fahkri turns twenty. And today, Mustaeen Fahkri tends to his destiny, his father’s legacy.

5AM EDT

The alarm goes off, but he’s been awake for over an hour; just lying in bed thinking.

He sits up and spins his legs around and stands, stretching his arms way above his head and stands on his toes. On the night stand is a granola bar and a warm Gatorade. He inhales the granola bar in two bites, then opens the Gatorade and sucks the bottle dry.

After cleaning up, he says his morning prayers and re-inspects the backpack. The soccer ball is stable and the plugs in each panel are secure with each plug wired to the fuse box and that box is wired to the phone. All that’s left is to turn on the cell phone and call that phone to initiate the sequence.

He has an hour walk to his destination. He’s paced it out three times in the last two weeks, he has plenty of time. He decides to stop by that bakery midway and buy a pastry to celebrate his birthday I turn twenty today, if I’m lucky, I might make it to twenty-one!

He gathers his personal belongings along with the backpack and heads out the door, locking it as he leaves, drops the key in the drop box in the lobby, and heads for the bakery. As he turns the corner, anticipating his pastry, he smells the warm dough and can almost taste the frosting as he opens the door of the shop.

Leaving the bakery he sees her – still wearing the same tattered T-Shirt. He saw her once before as he paced off his route to the Ellipse. The irony of a heart on a t-shirt worn by such a sad figure strikes a chord in Musta’s soul that is strange and uncomfortable. He thinks to himself that she would be very pretty if cleaned up. Wearing filthy jeans and a worn t-shirt that barely covers her femininity makes the girl look older; but Musta suspects she’s about as old as the girl from the moon lit clearing he remembers from years ago. Oh, how he wishes he could forget that night.

It’s a little warm for September in DC, but it’s still too cold for her to be wearing only a thread-bare t-shirt. He tries not to think of her as their paths are about to cross, but he continues to stare at her thinking of the girl in the clearing. Once again that feeling that he should care and that he should do something overwhelms him.

A feeling of responsibility takes over and he approaches her. He still has time, he’s early; so he stops Excuse me as he gets her attention, Are you OK? Aren’t you cold?

She stops and turns towards him. The eyes, the window to the soul, belie a difficult past. As she speaks, he hears the cry of a child I want to go home and tears well up in her eyes.

That feeling of compassion and responsibility, the feeling he has suppressed and fought his whole life finally wins and explodes in his soul. He drops to one knee, puts his backpack on the ground and removes his fatigue jacket; then pulls it around the girl. He pulls the pastry he just bought for his birthday out of the bag and hands it to her, she looks into his eyes and again he sees the pain and anguish of her short life. She hungrily takes the pastry and begins to eat it too fast. He tells her to slow down. He pulls a bottle of water out of his back pack, untwists the cap and hands it to her. She takes a quick sip to test the liquid then drains the bottle, returning to her pastry.

Still on one knee looking slightly up into her face he asks Where is home?

For the first time, she recognizes another person is near her and is startled, but also realizes this person is kind so she doesn’t pull back. She hears him ask again Where’s home? She turns her attention back to the pastry and continues to eat.

He looks at his watch, this delay is eating up time, but he needs to do something with the girl; he can’t just leave her.

At that moment he hears the chime of a church bell announcing the hour. He stands, grabs the girl's hand and walks towards the chime; she follows without resistance still eating her pastry.

The church was two blocks away. He climbs the steps to the heavy wood doors that would open into the church with the girl at his side, he kneels and gently puts his hands on her upper arms, bringing her attention to him. I’m going to leave you here, go inside and ask the priest to help you get home. She acknowledges his statement with a slight nod.

The girl begins to take off the jacket, but he stops her Keep it; you need it more than I do.

She reaches out with both arms and hugs him like a child would hug a grandparent. She releases her hug, he stands and opens the heavy door for her and she walks into a warm, quiet sanctuary. Once inside she puts both hands in the side pockets of the jacket and feels something in the left pocket, she pulls her left hand out of the pocket with a small roll of twenty dollar bills.

He’s now a little behind schedule, but he has a bounce to his step as he briskly walks to the North edge of the Ellipse. He feels good that he helped someone; but is not sure why.

Musta arrives at the Ellipse, and is within twenty-five feet of the Zero Milestone Marker within the shade of a massive tree and looks around carefully, assessing the environment. He wants to think about his next steps. An hour ago he knew his mission, but now he keeps thinking of the girl. Why did he stop to help? Why did he feel responsible? On the one hand he has a responsibility to his father and the legacy of his heritage; but on the other, he cares about the lives of others who are really no different than him.

He has lived his whole life with opposing beliefs and diverse obligations. He feels as if he is coming apart, torn in two halves, forced to choose one of two very different lives.

The trees are still green, only a few golden leaves hinting at fall. In a short while all the leaves will be swept away in the autumn wind, if they survive this afternoon.

Leaning against a tree looking out on The Ellipse, he places his back pack at his feet. Twenty five feet away is the center point around which Washington DC was built. A reference point of utmost significance; yet tourists pass it by as if it wasn’t there, ignorant of its importance.

The same could be said for him, standing there against this tree; passersby totally unaware of his presence, or the magnitude of his intended actions.

The squealing brakes of a tour bus startle him, it sounds like screaming. He couldn't help wondering where those tourists might have been 20 years ago today. He thinks to himself that it is surprisingly calm and peaceful in the capital of the United States on this twentieth anniversary of the World Trade Center attack.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a woman wearing a Hijab stumble in a crosswalk spilling the contents of her purse. As he turns to watch the scene, a distinguished looking middle-aged white man in a business suit hurries to her assistance, setting down his briefcase and kneeling to help her collect her belongings. The two hold up traffic, but no horns are sounding. The man stands and helps the woman to her feet and across the street. When he is sure she is OK, they part ways each continuing on their predetermined course.

The act of compassion is not wasted on these young eyes; and he is again reminded of the girl he helped this morning and the compassion shown him over so many years.

His attention is returned to the Zero Milestone Marker, a non-descript four foot tall stone piece that marks the center of Washington DC; a geographical fixture of the city which itself is a philosophical center of Western thought and culture. The clouds cast shadows on the marker as they pass by in the autumn blue sky.

His father had planted the seeds of a zealot in his mind, but neglected to develop the heart of a zealot. Perhaps his father assumed that he would absorb the passion and hatred, perhaps he had been totally focused on making his son the chosen one, and assumed the hatred would develop. But there is no hatred, no animosity, no feeling of ill will - only a deep sense of respect and compassion.

While leaning against the tree looking out onto the marker and the Ellipse, he begins to sing quietly to himself Happy birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday Mustaeen Fahkri, Happy Birthday to me.

He takes a final look at the marker; a symbol of the central foundation of this nation and steps out from under the tree and walks towards the East, leaving the backpack next to the tree in the shadows. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Musta comments to himself My Father’s Path.

1993

The conflicts and warfare of Muslims and Christians continued, mostly in the Middle-Eastern nations until February of 1993 when Ramzi Yousef, Mahmud Abouhalima, Mohammad Salameh, Nidal Ayyad, Abdul Rahman Yasin and Ahmad Ajaj drove a truck into the garage of the North tower of the World Trade Center and detonated a 1,336 pound bomb.

What started as a religious war of Crusaders and Jihadist; has become a secular conflict between Eastern and Western cultures and countries.

1995

For three years, Mistah has endured the stares, whispers, and confrontations while trying to study engineering at the University of California Berkley. Today started out as any other day, but by nightfall, Mistah would be on a plane heading back home to Pakistan filled with a vile hatred for Westerners, especially rich California preppies.

Upon Mistah’s return to Pakistan, he joins his father in the family business and no mention is made of his time in America.

On a trip for his father into Afghanistan, he is befriended by another Pakistan businessman, also on business for his father. A friendship develops over a conversation about similar humiliating experiences while in America. Soon, Mistah is introduced to others that have the same hatred of the Americans and Mistah begins sneaking away from work and family to meet others who have a similar disdain for America and Americans.

1997

As is custom in Mistah’s culture; his parents arranged for his marriage to Aisha many years ago. He has seen the girl from a distance only once, but has been able to extract information about her through a network of informants – friends, relatives and connections.

She is an attractive, educated woman. His intelligence network hints at her rebelliousness towards authority and a hatred for Europeans. Aisha's cousin was humiliated in much the same way as Mistah, with similar results.

Mistah was soon married to Aisha and life returned to normal, sort of. He continued working for his father living under his father’s roof, but with a new bride. There were too many people living in one house for any privacy, so Mistah and Aisha would plan outings for privacy and personal time. During one of those outings they ran into a couple of the men that Mistah knew from his earlier gatherings, where they discussed their hatred of Americans. As the conversation developed, Aisha began to interject her feelings about Europeans and suggested that something be done. As a result of that conversation, a series of introductions and meetings led to Mistah and Aisha stealing away in the dark of night, never to be seen again by their families.

It wasn’t long before Mistah and Aisha find themselves training with other like minds in Afghanistan; and soon assembled with others to prepare for a mission in the United States.

A Chosen One Arrives Amidst Chaos

2001

Sept 10, 5 pm. Mistah is preparing to leave to meet with his group for tomorrow’s mission. He is saying prayers and kissing Aisha's belly, saying goodbye to the child he will never know.

Around 6pm, as Mistah is about to walk out the door, Aisha goes into labor. The child is coming and Aisha is in severe pain. They had planned for a home delivery to prevent any governmental entity from knowing of their presence in the US; but Aisha was having problems and the other women in the cell had gone into seclusion in anticipation of tomorrow’s attack.

Around midnight, Mistah recognizes that he is not going to make the rendezvous with his team; a multi-cultural blend of hatred and misogyny. Two true believers, Mistah and another, anxious to sacrifice their lives for the cause; two others hoping only for eternal reward in heaven - their lives here on earth are not rewarding enough, death seems a more desirable option. The remaining one is a pyromaniac who can't wait to crash the plane and die in a ball of fire.

At great risk to himself, his planning, and his team; he loads Aisha in the van and drives her to the nearest hospital. In fear of being found out, he parks the van a block away and carries her into the emergency room – 1:30AM on September 11th. He had planned to leave her alone and return to his comrades, but an overbearing nurse recruits him to help with the delivery.

Aisha is comforted and attended to; she was never in harm’s way, but neither Mistah nor Aisha had any experience with child birth and for fear of being found out, did not have any prenatal care. The delivery was early, but the labor long. Around 9AM on September 11th 2001, the child is born. With death and destruction, terror and fear spreading throughout the land, the child does not cry when delivered, but opens his eyes and looks directly into Mistah’s eyes and smiles. Mistah greets his son and weeps.

At this moment, Mistah knows why this child was delivered into this world early. Mistah had always thought it would be his destiny to deliver something profound to the world. After his education was cut short, he assumed the White House team would be his destiny; but now he sees the true purpose of his life in this child. This child will deliver a gift to the West and Mistah must see to it that he is trained. He sees this child as The Chosen One and names him Mustaeen.

2003

Hamad Eslam Papal was born in the Eastern countryside of Afghanistan. His father and uncles farmed poppy plants and sold the seeds to merchants for the opium trade with the Chinese. This had been the family business for many generations until the land reforms of the Taraki presidency were instituted.

Outbreaks of violence against the Taraki government led by rebel insurgents swarmed the land and Hamad’s family was caught in the middle. It wasn’t long before all the adult men in the Papal family were gone - butchered when the Soviets were brought in to support the government and Afghanistan Army. At the age of ten, Hamad became the patriarch of the family. Two years later, he was recruited into the Mujahedeen to fend off the imperialist invaders.

Although young, Hamad had a keen grasp of guerilla tactics and rapidly rose through the ranks of the insurgent army. His brief experience as family patriarch served him well, and he was soon commanding a group of soldiers the size of an army company at eighteen.

Near his nineteenth birthday, the Soviets retreated, but the conflict raged on for several more years. With no Soviet threat, the United States lost interest in Afghanistan and the country fell into economic ruin. Barely in his twenties, Hamad found himself without family, without land and with no commercial skill. Unable to provide for himself, he was bitter and angry with his own personal state as well as the state of his country and blamed the United States for not coming to their aid.

While in the city to steal food, he ran into a fellow rebel. As they talked, his friend mentioned a group of fighters that were in search of warriors to fight for a cause. Hamad soon found himself training and teaching tactics with al-Qaeda.

Serving many years in the organization, both in operational actions and in tactical training; Hamad had his share of injuries. Although only in his thirties, he was considered too mature for involvement in the planning and execution of the attacks on the World Trade Center in America. However, as reward for his service, Hamad was tasked to recruit a team to infiltrate the American homeland and carry out continued attacks on their own soil.

Going by the name