The Head of Khalid Salaam

By John Moore

An intellectual psychopath with supernatural delusions becomes a sinister terrorist leader. Using unconventional weapons, a renegade extremist organization launches terrorist attacks deep within our homeland. Every man, woman, and child feels vulnerable. Americans panic and Americas institutions knuckle under.

The question is not if, but when. What happens when they get inside our borders again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 28, 2007
• ISBN: 9781467093446

John Moore

The Davis Project, LLC www.thedavisproject/Books.com

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© 2007 John Moore. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 3/15/2007

ISBN: 978-1-4259-9230-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-9344-6 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2007901018

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

INTRODUCTION

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

IT BEGINS

CHAPTER TWO

AHME

CHAPTER THREE

SUICIDE

CHAPTER FOUR

HARRY TINDALL

CHAPTER FIVE

SHAHID

CHAPTER SIX

MULLAH MANAWI

CHAPTER SEVEN

TARIF

CHAPTER EIGHT

REPAYMENT

CHAPTER NINE

THE PLUMBER’S HELPER

CHAPTER TEN

FALLOUT

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CABINET MEETING

CHAPTER TWELVE

A RATION FOR TEXAS

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

INVESTIGATION

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DELIRIUM

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE BREAK

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPIPHANY

Chapter Seventeen

MISFORTUNE

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ANTICHRIST

CHAPTER NINETEEN

RECRUITING

CHAPTER TWENTY

BALLOON

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ESCAPE FROM ATLANTA

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

AIRLIFTERS

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

TIFFANY

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

ISLAMIC CONVENTION

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

FUND RAISER

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

AIR STRIKE

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

TANKERS

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

DEATH TO THE FORNICATORS

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

BEAST UNVEILED

CHAPTER THIRTY

THE ARCH

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

APPREHENSION

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

ADRIFT

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Acknowledgments

My initial thoughts of gratitude go to those who read my early drafts, offered suggestions, and helped steer the writing toward its ultimate conclusion. These include my long-time friend, David Cornell, who was the first to read it and who offered constructive criticism, meaningful changes, and most importantly, encouraged me to press on. Also, avid reader and sailor, Curt Kasten, who not only screened an early draft, but helped to get the nautical aspects correct. My added gratitude goes to Karen Braatz, a skilled, but sensitive critic, who ferreted out inconsistencies in the story line as it was unfolding.

The credit for review and critique of the sanitary engineering and bio-terrorism portions go to my friend and colleague, Scott Jones, who, not only served as a second pair of eyes in the engineering area, but contributed immensely to the characterization of the terrorists as well. Further thanks go to Steve Amancio, who provided technical guidance and background for key episodes, which could not have been written without him.

To the most important contributor, and the reason this story transitioned from rough draft to final form, I give credit and thanks to Michelle Alford, the editor, proofreader, and valued consultant who devoted her time and considerable talent to perfecting the mechanics, literary presentation, and content.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the loving support of my wife, Sherry, who recognized my passion for this story and steadfastly urged me to share it with others.

Introduction

Most Americans never knew George E. Elliot, Jr., but many know about him. George was the radar operator on December 7, 1941 who sounded the alarm one hour before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. However, nobody believed him. People were complacent. They were content. Mostly, they were incredulous that such audacity could actually happen to Americans—on American soil.

George saw a blip on his radar screen and reported it. When he told his superiors how big it was, smug in their complacency, they told him that his radar must be broken. An hour later, all hell broke loose in Pearl Harbor. The enemy had killed thousands because Americans were asleep at the switch.

Sixty years later in July 2001, Kenneth J. Williams, an FBI agent and analyst in Phoenix, sent a report to the FBI headquarters that became known as the notorious Phoenix Memo. In it, Williams stated that Middle Eastern men were attending flight schools but were showing little interest in learning how to land the aircraft. In Minnesota, another agent, Coleen Rowley, questioned the FBI’s laxity in investigating the so-called twentieth hijacker, Zacarias Moussaoui. He had been detained by the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) in August 2001 for suspicious activity in a Minnesota flight school but was allowed to go free.

Prior to September 2001, Richard Clarke, the government’s top counterterrorism agent, told officials that, Something really spectacular is going to happen here and it’s going to happen soon. Numerous other warnings from France, England, Egypt, and Israel were received by our government in the weeks and months before September 11, 2001, but all were lost in the bowels of American bureaucracy. As a result, we failed to stop the attack on the United States we now refer to as the tragedy of 9/11.

There is a big blip on the radar screen for America today. We have seen terrorists strike time after time in Palestine, Israel, the Philippines, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Spain, and throughout the Middle East. We have had our own experience of 9/11, yet many are incredulous to think that it could happen again.

This story is about how it might. It is just that—a story. However, to be forewarned is to be forearmed. If one person reading this book is spurred to action that strengthens our defense, the effort to tell this story will have been worthwhile. If thousands or perhaps millions of Americans act, it might just squelch Jihad in America and preserve our nation and our way of life.

Finally, as you read this story, never forget that tomorrow could be the start of "Year One of Jihad" in America.

Prologue

Ahme Shobaki ran as fast as his eleven-year-old legs would carry him, but the sheep kept getting in the way. He slogged up the hill, slipping on rocks and choking on the grit of the desert terrain. It was like running through quicksand; the harder he struggled, the further away the house seemed to be. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash from the brown tube. Needing to beat the ball of fire hurtling toward his house, he had to run faster. Then, he saw his mother, arms outstretched, vainly shielding his sister and father from the deadly orange plume headed toward them. They were all covered in blood.

I’m coming mother, Ahme screamed, but he couldn’t outrun the fireball. The last vision he had was the three of them engulfed in flames, slowly crumbling in a charred heap before his eyes. He could do nothing but claw at the barren sand as he lay prostrate, crying in anguish.

Then, he woke up. The nightmare that had plagued him for over thirty years had happened again. Ahme was damp with sweat, chilled with fear, and overcome with anger. In the dreadful loneliness that always followed the nightmare, Ahme vowed that one day he would do something to make the nightmare stop. That day was coming soon.

Chapter One

IT BEGINS

October 12th, Year 1 of Jihad

Qatana, Syria

From his Syrian hide away, Ahme Shobaki invoked the blessing of Allah, and then gave the order. From a laptop computer halfway around the world, the coded e-mail message soon flickered on the computer screen of Fatima Adiz. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling of her squalid East Saint Louis motel room illuminated her strikingly beautiful face. Although the video was dim, the message was clear. It read simply: Allah’s lightning must strike. Execute Operation Thunderclap! She knew what it meant.

October 15th, Year 1 of Jihad

St. Louis, Missouri

At nearly 11 a.m. on a chilly October morning, the student union at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri was a veritable anthill of activity. Students focused on things most important to them, such as grabbing a Danish and a cup of coffee, taking one last glance at their crib notes, and getting to class on time. The political unrest that characterized many East- and West-coast universities did not exist at Wash. U. Nestled solidly in the heart of the Midwest, this college was ultra-conservative and ultra-secure. Those were among the reasons parents rejoiced when their sons and daughters were admitted to Wash. U.

Jane Apple and Heather Romero were chatting at the entrance to the union when a young boy staggered by them. He appeared to be drunk or on drugs and would have knocked both of them down if they hadn’t jumped back. Both expressed their disgust and anger at his rude behavior and they followed him into the union to tell him so.

Hey, you jerk. Why don’t you watch where you are going? Heather yelled as he continued to move erratically forward.

It was the last thing she ever said. An explosive force seemed to burst from the boy’s back. It not only took away her voice and breath, it also shot her forty feet backwards through the doorway and smashed her onto the concrete sidewalk. What was left of her friend’s body was sprawled ten feet away.

Simultaneously, Mary Lee Smithton was sitting in the union coffee shop. In between glancing at her history book and the cute boy seated at the next table, she looked toward the entrance. Something seemed wrong. A dazzling sunburst blast of light blinded her just as the boy she was admiring vaporized before her eyes. She was next, only a nanosecond later.

Tamantha Brown was sweeping around the coffee bar when, peripherially, she saw the flash. Although it was nearly instantaneous, the shockwave seemed to move in slow motion toward her. The world she had found so mundane and uncomplicated a few moments ago was exploding like a galaxy being formed by the big bang. Her last conscious thought was erased by the overpowering wind that blew her body into and through the glass wall behind the coffee bar.

So it was for over three hundred people in the student union that fateful October morning. It would take weeks to figure out just what had happened. How, why, and who was responsible were questions with even more difficult answers. No one was prepared for what was to come.

Chapter Two

AHME

January 17th, Two years before Year 1 of Jihad

A Camp in the Hindu Kush Mountains, Afghanistan

Ahme Shobaki walked into the tent first. His bodyguards had already checked it out twice, guaranteeing there were no listening devices or hidden weapons. The tent floor contained only the usual mohair sitting rugs and the marinated goat, on a platter centered in the circle of rugs. Ahme took his place in the circle. One by one, the guests were escorted into the tent and seated. As camouflage, each wore the headdress of the local Afghan tribe, the Samanganese. Further, each had his mouth and nose covered with a linen shroud, all of which was to insure their anonymity. Ahme wore no shroud. He wanted them to know who he was and what he stood for. The guards were careful with their body checks to not cause bruises, but not so careful that anything could be overlooked. In less than fifteen minutes, the select, yet anonymous seven, including Karim al Cinhar, were seated.

Welcome to all present in the name of Allah. Ahme began by gesturing to each of them to feast on the goat. As was the custom, all demurred until the last offer which was accepted. Karim and the others were careful not to remove their face covers when eating. By holding the cloth down with one hand and sticking food in his mouth with the other, Karim quickly mastered the technique. Drinking was even more cumbersome, but most managed without revealing their faces.

Karim al Cinhar, the most senior of the Islamic warriors, and Ahme were entitled to the delicacy—the eyes. They waited until after many hands had reached into the goat for the blend of meat, breads, and spices. When all appetites were satiated, it was time for the traditional ceremony. Ahme, as the host, presented the head to Karim. Karim al Cinhar, most worthy son of Allah, I offer you the choice morsel.

According to ancient custom, Karim selected the left eyeball. He held it between his thumb and forefinger until Ahme had taken the right. On cue, the two popped the orbs of quivering protoplasm into their mouths. Expressions of approval were uttered and the guests continued the meal. It was a real goat grope.

Though not physically imposing, Ahme Shobaki dominated the tent gathering. Dignified, yet personable, his manner was captivating, even to those seeing him for the first time. Dressed all in black, he stood just over six feet tall, displaying the only clean-shaven face in the circle of Jihad plotters. Though he was nearing fifty, he had a youthful face. He might have appeared even more youthful, but for an expression that varied between a serious frown and a scowl. Regardless of his intimidating facial expression, under his dark flowing robes and black kafiyyeh, the heart of a zealous warrior pumped hot blood through his veins. His words and eyes reflected the intensity of his convictions.

It was time to begin, Ahme concluded with a deep breath. As he stood to address some of the most powerful sheiks, mullahs, and ayatollahs of the Muslim empire, he thought briefly of the many visions and nightmares that had pervaded his youth. ‘Had the mystical force that sent those visions also prepared him for his destiny now? Was that mystical force Allah, or was it some other powerful entity? Was he mad to be dwelling on such illusions at a time like this? Or, as some had suggested, was he simply insane?’ He did his best to purge those thoughts from his mind and focused on the task at hand.

My friends, Ahme began after the eating and table talk had subsided, You do me great honor by your presence this evening.

The group stopped their muttering and paid close attention to Ahme. They sensed something of great importance was coming.

I have invited you to this place in the name of Allah and all the brothers of Islam who share our convictions. You represent the seven major factions fighting for our common cause. On this day, I wish to share with you a new plan for the defeat of our enemies. To execute this plan, a new organization must rise up. It will be called, Khalid Salaam. Ahme paused for emphasis and then repeated his statement. Our new organization, the one that will win victory for the forces of Allah, is called Khalid Salaam.

Ahme scanned the tent for an initial reaction. The success or failure of his mission was in the hands of these seven Jihadists. The seven did not represent every group warring for Islam, but they did represent the seven groups most closely aligned with the objectives of Ahme and Khalid Salaam. Of equal importance, they were the groups that were most likely to support Ahme’s goals because they were not aligned with al Qaeda.

You are the fundamental warriors in this plan, Ahme continued. That is why I have asked you to come to this deserted place under such secrecy. Ahme had learned early in life that an ounce of flattery was the key to many a man’s persuasion.

Before you leave this night, you will understand the mission, the plan to accomplish that mission, and your role in it, but you are not permitted to know the person next to you. It is for your own safety and for the security of our cause. I trust you are in agreement with me.

In each of their minds, there had been much speculation about the purpose of this meeting. Most thought it was about the stalemate that existed between Palestine and Israel. Some thought it was to announce the impending use of a new weapon—perhaps a dirty bomb, as the Saudi Arabian delegate suggested. However, Karim suspected it had to do with a widening of the war, or as the infidels called it, expanding our terrorist attacks.

‘How ironic that the infidels should choose to label this kind of warfare as terrorism,’ Karim thought. ‘Were these not precisely the tactics used by the American forefathers in their struggle to free themselves from the British?’ He suspected the meeting related to a new initiative, but none of them was prepared for the expansion Ahme had in mind.

At seventy-two years old, Karim al Cinhar still sat ramrod straight and missed nothing while the others babbled and plucked persistently at the goat. His full beard, turned snow white ten years earlier, distinguished him in any group. He occasionally wondered what he looked like without the beard because it had been over fifty years since he was clean-shaven. Warm, understanding eyes peered out over a pair of half-eye glasses that Karim used for reading. Other than being a life-long, ruthless, Islamic warrior, he could have been anyone’s grandfather.

Karim wanted to ask what would happen if one of them did not agree with the plan or did not want to participate. He suspected that any sign of non-committal would be looked upon as treason. Such a person might not likely return from the meeting alive. The security of the matter, as well as the genuine zeal felt by the group, would dictate those terms. He was most assuredly committed and he didn’t want anyone to think otherwise so he kept his mouth shut.

His eyes darting from side to side and his voice even more passionate, Ahme continued. We have been fighting the infidel Americans and others too long on our own soil. Our countrymen and their homes have been among those who have suffered from these battles. It is time we took our fight to the homes of the Americans. My brothers, what I am unveiling to you this night is our plan to take the battle to the heart of America!

At first, there was a hush. Next came an excited muttering as the concept began to sink in. Ultimately, a sobering quiet descended upon the group. No one had anticipated this. The mood was as serious as if Allah himself had walked into the tent.

Sensing that he had struck a chord, Ahme went on. "Furthermore, except for the destruction of the New York towers, we have lacked sophistication and scale in our attacks. We send a faithful follower of Islam into a nightclub armed with a few explosives. Perhaps we eliminate a dozen of the enemy. In the process, we lose our brave compatriot and perhaps some of our own citizens as well. It is not an efficient attack. If we are to lose a mujahideen, let it again be at the expense of a thousand infidel lives."

A round of applause and enthusiastic cries came from the group.

Another point. Ahme was nearly ranting now. "We have focused on explosives. Bombs are appropriate in some attacks, but any number of other means can be used to

inflict pain on our enemy—pain that will inspire fear, fear that will lead to panic, and panic that will lead to destruction. In the plan to defeat America, explosives will be greatly supplemented by other means. We will use their own institutions and machines as weapons against them. We will burn their forests, poison their drinking water, and undermine their economy. Just as our brave brothers used American airplanes as weapons on September 11, 2001, we shall defeat them with their own devices.

"I mentioned that we are losing too many of our dedicated and trained soldiers. While our mujahideen must always place our cause ahead of their own lives, in the American campaign, we will stress survival. The missions will be planned and executed so that our trained forces will live to attack another day. For the ears of only those here, I’m sure you understand that policy will make recruiting much easier." Ahme lowered his voice and slowed his rhetoric. The bottom line point of his speech was coming. He was asking for their help. Ahme felt the warmth of the tension that was building inside him; his voice resonated with his deeply felt enthusiasm.

"We have some soldiers who are sufficiently trained to perform now. We need more; a lot more. That is the first area in which you will be involved. The plan requires that hand-picked recruits be motivated and trained to, not only perform specific missions, but to blend into the American countryside, to speak their language, and to understand what can and must be done to unravel the fabric of their society.

"Underpinning our plan and its execution are covert action and secrecy. It begins with the group here tonight. You must never mention to anyone the name of any person present this evening or even that you were here. It must be as if our plan came to you in a dream.

"During their training, soldiers will not learn the given names of their fellow soldiers, nor will they know their families, their backgrounds, or where they are from. In America, they will not meet together unless absolutely necessary. They will not know how to contact a fellow soldier. They will not know the sources of their logistic support. They will not know a chain of command. If they are caught, they will not be able to betray the plan or our organization because they will not know about it. If they are cornered, they will be expected to fight to the death or die by their own hand.

"Our organization will be like an ocean of fish following Allah’s will. There are no generals. There are no privates. Only sons of Allah working to do his bidding—that is who will prevail over the infidel Americans. What about the war against the infidels in our own lands? These battles will continue where they must and where they have done so since the time of Mohammed. Tonight, what I am telling you about is a new effort. It is an effort that will probably divert some resources that would otherwise be used in our respective homelands, but most of the resources will be new. Again, that is where you come in. As rich and powerful Ayatollahs and Mullahs, you have the charisma to bring followers into the fold. You have wealth to contribute. Most of all, you have deep-seated commitment.

There are many details about our plan that I can address if you wish. However, you should know that we already have camps established, recruits undergoing training, and logistics are being arranged to begin execution after only two years of preparation. May I address any questions?

Without lifting his white shroud, Sheik Mahdi al Ghandaki was the first to speak. This is a bold and brave step you are proposing. While I cannot speak for others, I question whether or not we can bring our forces to bear on American soil. Our brothers who served Osama bin Laden were both brave and fortunate. They succeeded where others have failed. However, sadly I must point out that American vigilance has been improving since our glorious September attack of 2001.

The group turned to Ahme, some nodding their agreement with the Sheik.

I ask only that you exhibit faith in Allah, my friend, Ahme said. Trust that Allah himself has inspired me to pursue this goal. He has prepared me for my part by allowing me to go to the United States as a young boy where I lived in their midst and learned their customs. I also learned their strengths and, by the Grace of Allah, their weaknesses, as well. I have no doubt that we can duplicate the glory of the two Trade Towers’ destruction many fold, but I cannot do it alone. I must have your help.

The representative from Indonesia spoke next. The places we wish to rid of infidels are our homelands. What will be gained by taking the fight to the enemy’s ground, particularly when our own lands are still under siege?

You pose an excellent point, sir. Ahme was ready for the question. "The answer is that, as long as the octopus has a head, its tentacles can reach out and inflict damage.

"The head of our enemy is in America. Our objective, therefore, is to harass the Americans to such extent that they will lose their zest for battle in our homelands. We know we cannot prevail in a conventional war and, most assuredly, not in a nuclear conflict. However, the Americans have grown soft. They speak loudly of winning a war against what they call terrorism, but they do not have the stomach for it if their stock market falls or if it takes them away from shopping malls or football on television. Our tactics will use their own devices and institutions to rain fear on every American.

There is another thing in our favor. We have Allah in our hearts. America has only the false Gods of imperialism and their almighty dollar. No one in America understands the religion of Islam. They have no appreciation for the power of Allah and the motivation we derive from our faith. They are a house of cards that will quiver and fall when just a few props are knocked from their foundation. Simply put, we are right and the right shall prevail.

But America has strong allies, some of whom are near our homeland, the Syrian delegate interrupted. What makes you think they will not join America and turn against us? American dollars can buy many friends.

Ahme paused a moment for effect, but he was ready for that question as well. "I contend America is not that well liked around the world. Even inside its own borders there is much dissention. It is unheard of to us, but, in America, disagreement is allowed to exist within the same political party. Their so-called freedoms leave people free to disagree with, condemn, and detest their own government. Outside of the United States, it is worse. America professes to be closely aligned with the United Kingdom, for example, but at a level below the top leaders, there is much dissention. There are also many secular Europeans who hate the United States because of World War II. There are Asians who abhor America’s liberalism. Others regard Americans as born-again Christians who are fighting abortionists and narcotics peddlers in the Bible belt. We Muslims are joined by a great many anti-Semites who believe that Jews control the United States.

"So, to paraphrase a western poet, America has a number of albatrosses dangling from its neck. All of them together constitute a heavy burden. Depending on to whom you talk, they are too Christian, too Jewish, or too godless. Under the guise of democracy, they have become imperialists. Other nations see that and are wary. The ultimate irony is that Americans are exceptionally paranoid. In their arrogance, they tell nations of the world that they will come to their aid in the cause of liberty. However, they really have an isolationist mindset. I intend to capitalize on that mindset, capture their attention, and make them look inward. With their attention diverted, our cause can be resurrected and our homelands retaken.

"The war plan encompasses five years. We are now two years before jihad commences in the American homeland. I repeat. Two years hence, Year One of American Jihad will begin. I expect to launch at least three attacks in year one. In year two, the goal is to average one attack per month, except at Ramadan, during which, in honor of Allah, more are planned. In year three of the American Jihad, we will be stronger and better placed in the enemy camp. In year three, we will strive for two attacks each month. When the Americans and her allies have withdrawn from Islamic lands and renounced the so-called War on Terrorism, we will stop our attacks. If she does not, we will destroy her. Allah has willed that we carry out jihad to defend against the aggressors of Islam. As I have written in my war plan, I do not intend to simply defeat the Americans. I intend to annihilate them."

The East Iranian delegate, Ayatollah Muqtada al Khoei, interrupted Ahme. "But how will we be able to blow up every airport, poison every drinking water plant, or burn every acre of forest? America is a very big country. Even if we can get a few mujahideen across their borders, we can not hope to defeat the thousands of cities, plants, railroads, and airports they possess." The ayatollah from East Iran was committed, but highly skeptical.

Looking at the Iranian representative, Ahme nodded, but his words were meant for the group. I want you to think about something. We don’t have to destroy the American institutions. Those infidels will do it for us. They will do it to themselves. Remember our famous brothers who launched the attack on the World Trade Towers on September 11, 2001? They didn’t take down the American economy. The Americans did that themselves. On September 12, they began to panic, panic led to selling, and selling led to a drop in value of trillions of dollars in their stock market. All our brave comrades did was give them a nudge.

Karim al Cinhar slowly rose from his seat on the mohair carpet. All quieted as he began to speak. First, I commend you on this courageous step to rid our homelands of the imperialist infidels, but I have a question, Young Ahme. A few of the others knew of the close ties between Karim and Ahme, but most were startled by the air of familiarity.

Choosing not to explain, Karim continued on. "How will Khalid Salaam interact with other organizations and, in particular, what will be your relationship with al Qaeda? I fear that a new organization with a new champion may not bode well with the leadership of al Qaeda. As we know, they believe they are the group anointed by Allah to spearhead the jihad. Any who compete with them places a great deal at risk. So it would be for the leader of Khalid Salaam, and so it would be for its benefactors."

It was a question that many had contemplated but did not dare to ask. They were grateful that Karim took the initiative.

Ahme approached the old man and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Aliahu akbar, abu! Ahme proclaimed to Karim. By saying God is great, father, Ahme paid Karim the greatest of compliments. You have been a father, a teacher, and an inspiration to me, great leader. I consider it a blessing that you concern yourself with my well being. The answer to your question is explained, in part, by the secrecy of this meeting. Until Khalid Salaam is well entrenched, I will be invisible to al Qaeda. Later, I will confront them. To be frank, I intend to court al Qaeda, but not be subordinate to them. They have resources that can be marshaled to the purposes of Khalid Salaam, but they also have millstones that I do not intend to bear. For example, they are fighting a defensive jihad against the United States. I intend to make it an offensive jihad. They are limited in their imagination. They tend to rely on explosive devices. I intend to wage a war using every imaginable weapon at our disposal, including some very unconventional techniques. Finally, al Qaeda is the organization that is in the American crosshairs. I shall leave them there and begin new offensives, open new fronts, and strike in the stealth of night leaving no trace or identity. There will be no one to which the enemy can retaliate."

The delegate from Chechnya, who had been silent, bristled at Ahme’s mention of an offensive jihad. "But you are no Caliph, Ahme Shobaki. The Quran requires a Caliph, or ummah, to order an offensive jihad. The nations of Islam have not been guided by such a leader since 1924. Even Osama does not have such a distinction. What gives you the right, by announcing an offensive jihad, to claim such a position?"

You speak from wisdom and knowledge of the Quran, my brother, Ahme replied. "Rest assured, I am neither claiming to be an ummah, nor usurping the powers of one. However, as you also know, the doctrine of jihad in the Quran, though divided into offensive and defensive, holds that each individual Muslim is obligated to respond to an attack on our faith, our fellow Muslims, or on our territory. The United States, as a leader of the West and a supporter of Israel, is guilty of all of these. All I am doing, as a simple yet devoted follower of Islam is to react as my heart and my God tell me. I seek not to expand Muslim territory for that is, by definition, the purpose of an offensive jihad. However, I do intend to wage war on the enemy’s soil as that is the most effective way to support the defensive jihad to which we are all committed. By the law of Allah, that is our sacred obligation. I used the term ‘offensive’ in the Western sense to indicate our forces will be active in the enemy camp, not to suggest an Islamic invasion. Although when the enemy has felt the wrath of Allah that I intend to inflict, they may not know the difference."

A few heads began to nod. Then, as if a great revelation had been proclaimed, all seven were expressing their agreement.

So my point is simple, Ahme concluded. Americans will terrorize themselves. All we have to do is help get them started.

But won’t the Americans have their homeland defenses strengthened and ready? Sheik Ghandaki asked.

To paraphrase an infidel fairytale, the wolf is at their door. Whether their house is made of straw or of stones is the question. We shall put them to the test in ways they have never imagined! Ahme declared with a somber, dagger-like glare as he gazed not at, but just over the heads of the delegates. His eyes blazed with the look of a deranged lunatic, yet his composure was steadfast. If anyone thought that they might oppose him, they were dissuaded by his fierce stare. It was a glare of contempt, a glare of obsession, and, as Karim al Cinhar mused to himself, perhaps a glare of delusion.

There were a number of other questions and observations, but it was clear to Karim that Ahme had captured the zeal of all present. After a while, Ahme spoke again.

"I am asking you to give me two years to implement my plan. During that time, deliver all that I shall require of you and I assure you that we will succeed. Are you with me? I shall give you a few moments to reflect and pray to Allah over this commitment. Then as you leave, I shall hear each decision independently. None will know the others’ words. If my views are