Gateway to Terror

By Joe Smiga

Twelve years after 9/11, the United States will experience a level of terrorism it has never felt before. Working in plain sight, Iranian agents posing as businessmen develop, plot, and create a network of horrific events in conjunction with cells that have been planted here decades ago.

This sequel to Behind the Lies, illustrates how vulnerable we are to simplistic methods even with all of our technology. The statement, If there is a will, there is a way, is proven true in this thriller. You will be shocked at what could possibly come true someday.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462897056

Joe Smiga

About the Author Joe Smiga’s first book was published in May 2009 by Xlibris. On October 19, 2009, the New Hampshire Union Leader, New Hampshire’s statewide newspaper, printed a glowing review of Behind the Lies, saying it was worthy of Tom Clancy. Since then, Joe has published seven additional books with Xlibris because of the quality of their work. This year, Joe is publishing his ninth book, Iran’s Shocking Reversal. This novel opens up the imaginative possibilities of developing a better world. This is book tells the story of a major change in the Middle East. Joe loves to tell stories, especially one with hope for the future. He also tells stories of what really happens in the real world. Joe has a naval military background and close to forty-five years of sales and marketing engineered products. Iran’s Shocking Reversal will blow your mind.

Book preview

Prologue

Inside of Tehran

It has been two months since Iran was attacked by the United States. The structure of their former form of government is destroyed; the country is in a transitional state. Elements in the country are trying to form a more democratic form of government; while die-hard fundamentalists are trying to maintain control over the population.

Some citizens are enjoying their new independence while others don’t know where to turn for direction. Individuals who were forced to have politically correct relationships are forming new relationships and are distancing themselves from former friends.

Kamil Hussein and Hamid Dakham, who worked with Jibril Atwan on procuring nuclear materials from the Russian Mafiya are making every opportunity to distance themselves from their past. They have discontinued praying at their former mosque, named Rajab Ali.

*     *     *

Kamil Hussein and Hamid Dakham stand at the end of evening services. As they depart their present mosque, they are approached by the Imam who gave the sermon.

Wait one minute, the imam says. I wish to have a word with both of you.

Kamil and Hamid look at each other surprised.

I noticed the two of you have come regularly since the bombing fell on our city and our country.

Kamil says, Yes, so what is that supposed to mean?

Noticing your prayers and meditations, both of you seem to be observant. Where did you worship before?

Hamid replies, It really doesn’t matter to Allah. Why does it matter to you?

After what happened to our country, we need believers to help us keep our focus for Islam. Would both of you be willing to come to a session we are having in middle of next week after evening prayers?

Kamil questions, What is the purpose of the session?

We want to begin some community projects and develop leaders to maintain our beliefs.

Isn’t that your responsibility? remarks Hamid.

Yes, but we cannot do it alone.

Kamil says, We’ll talk about it and if we want to do the session we will stay after prayer, the night of the meeting.

Good, that is all I ask. I hope both of you will consider my invitation.

Exiting the mosque and turning right, Kamil says, What do you make of his comment?

I don’t really know for sure. My gut feeling is he wants something from us besides being observant Muslims.

I think so too!

What do you want to do?

Let me think about it for a couple of days and I’ll have your answer, replies Kamil.

*     *     *

The imam who offered the invitation is stopped by the senior mullah. Well, what did they say?

They didn’t commit to anything, which is the reply I expected.

Do you think they will come?

From what I learned when Jibril was alive, I would say they are curious.

We’ll see if that’s true next week. The mullah leaves the imam standing in the center of the sanctuary alone with his thoughts.

*     *     *

Kamil and Hamid continue walking away from the mosque. It is getting dark and the air has a nice breeze. They are heading for the food court at the outdoor bazaar.

Hamid, have you found any work?

Small jobs, nothing steady, I can barely pay my bills. Since the bombings it’s like there is a new regime taking over. If I am right, they know who worked for the secret police and are boycotting us. It’s as if they’re afraid of us.

I’m having the same problem. I’m glad we have each other to talk to. I feel as if I don’t know who to trust, speaks Kamil.

Hamid replies, Let’s grab some food, and we’ll at least have full bellies tonight.

Music and entertainment is bellowing from the food court. Men and women are dancing together and the women are not wearing traditional head coverings.

Things certainly have changed in two months. It looks like we are a western nation; instead of a nation of Islam, remarks Kamil.

Iran is changing, Kamil. Maybe we are the stubborn ones who refuse to accept the change.

Following Allah is the only way we should live our lives, Hamid.

Yeah, and look where it got the President and the Supreme Council. Maybe their interpretation of the Koran isn’t the only way.

You sound like a heretic.

Maybe, but our world has turned upside down because of those who professed to be the anointed ones. I don’t feel I can trust anyone with that mindset in the future.

What can we trust or who can we trust?

Right now, Kamil, you are the only one I really trust.

Are you trying to soften me up so I’ll pay for dinner?

Gee, that would be a nice gesture on your part, since I paid the last two times.

Fine, but I want to go to a special place most don’t know about.

So long as the food is good, that imam talked too long, I’m starved.

Kamil laughs, then says, Let’s go, it’s about ten minutes from here.

*     *     *

They walk into a section of the city that is a block away from where the presidential palace stood before the bombing. Even late into the evening, workers are seen still trying to clear the wreckage made by the US bombs. Neither one of them has ever seen this much devastation before. Both of them are horrified by what they see. It is difficult to comprehend this happened to their country.

Turning into an alley, Kamil leads Hamid toward the back where he knocks on the steel door three times. They wait for a response, he knocks again.

Do they really serve food in this place, Kamil? There is no display in front saying they are an eating establishment.

The door creaked open on its hinges.

A heavy set fellow with eyes as black as coal and a full black beard says, Kamil, it’s been awhile. Is he with you?

Yes, he’s a friend, it’s good to see you again, Siamak.

The man steps aside so they can enter.

Knowing the way, Kamil leads Hamid down a dimly lighted corridor.

As they walk, Hamid is scenting the sweet smell of marijuana. He doesn’t say anything because of the fellow behind them who opened the door.

Kamil and Hamid pass through an archway which leads into a small room with four tables along each of the side walls. Three of the tables are occupied with men who seem oblivious to their presence.

The lighting in the room is only slightly better than the corridor.

I will get you menus, says Siamak.

Don’t bother; we are going to have some falafel sandwiches with hummus and tabouli. Please bring us some of your sweet tea, speaks Kamil.

Siamak nods and walks off.

Do you come here often, Kamil?

No, not often, just when I want to discuss things or think about things where I know others won’t interfere with me. Someone I used to know brought me here years ago. I found those who come here keep to themselves and want to be treated in the same manner.

If we stay very long, we might get a little high.

Oh that, it never bothered me before.

Just then Siamak arrives with their food and drinks.

Kamil and Hamid stare at each other under the dim lighting just above the table. They wait for Siamak to leave before they continue.

Hamid spreads some hummus on his falafel sandwich and begins to eat.

Biting into the sandwich Hamid says, It’s good, better than I expected. Have you eaten anything else here?

Yes, but not for a long time, it’s probably been more than a year since I ate here last. Before we did our last business venture.

So why are we eating in this clandestine atmosphere?

That is the mood I am in, Hamid.

What brought on all of this darkness, may I ask?

I feel disconnected. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because of the bombing we took.

Or maybe, you sense the loss of leadership, Kamil.

Doesn’t it bother you, Hamid, that the plans we were part of failed?

From an accomplishment standpoint, yes, it does. Kamil, those are the chances we took being pawns in Jibril’s game plan. I don’t even know where he is right now. And I really don’t care either.

Perhaps, we could have struck a mighty blow for Islam. Don’t you think so?

Maybe Allah has different plans than Jibril had. Look Kamil, I’m not a western believer, I’m also no longer a radical fanatic for Islam. Maybe, I’ve changed, I don’t know.

What do you suspect the imam has up his sleeve?

Why don’t you start your sandwich maybe that will help change your mood. What do I think the imam wants? I can’t answer you. Maybe I’ll be able to come up with something if I hear him talk.

Kamil picks up his fork and starts eating his tabouli salad before he places some hummus onto his sandwich.

Hamid notices how Kamil plays with his fork as he chews his sandwich. His friend is quite nervous, more so than he had seen him inside of Russia.

When both of them are finished eating, Kamil pays for the meal and says, I need a walk, will you join me or do you have something to do?

Nothing planned, I’ll be glad to join you.

Chapter One

The Following Week

Monday and Tuesday evening services in the mosque end with an announcement, stating that there will be a discussion meeting on Wednesday evening following services. The topics will cover how members could participate in furthering the cause of Islam.

*     *     *

On their way out of the mosque Tuesday evening, Kamil says, Do you want to attend the discussion tomorrow?

I have mixed emotions about it. One side of me says, I should, the other side of me tells me to run in the opposite direction.

What can happen to us if we just listen? We don’t have to volunteer for anything.

It sounds to me as if you have already decided to go, correct?

Yes, I believe I made that decision. Will you come with me?

Hamid, the shorter and stouter of the two men looks up at his tall friend and smiles. Why do you need me to go?

Kamil, with his light complexion and six foot-four height, tall for an Iranian, looks down upon his friend and says, I can make my own decisions, but I would feel better if you were with me.

We’ll go together. I don’t have much of anything else to do anyway.

Good, I’m glad.

*     *     *

Wednesday evening services seem to move at a faster pace than usual. Surprisingly, the imam even keeps his sermon short.

Hamid quietly says to Kamil, They are in an awful hurry to get the meeting started.

It does seem that way, doesn’t it?

The services come to an end. The senior mullah announces their meeting will be held on the lower level, in the room at the bottom of the rear stairway. The meeting will start in ten minutes.

*     *     *

Slowly some of the men begin to enter the stairwell and descend to the lower level. The senior mullah is standing by the doorway of the meeting room warmly shaking hands with those who enter. After nearly ten minutes, he takes a head count, seventeen decided to attend.

The Imam who personally invited Kamil and Hamid is pleased to see them in attendance.

Kamil and Hamid look around to see if they recognize anyone in the room. Both men take notice of Azim’s face. He was the truck driver who drove their materials to the seaport inside of Russia.

Azim acts as if he is deliberately trying to ignore their glances.

The senior mullah begins, "Welcome, we are glad to see so many of you. You need to know that at this very moment you are part of many groups listening to the same message in every mosque inside Iran.

"In our country, Islam is experiencing a terrible shift within our people. Many believers are frightened by the power of the West and are quick to change their ways. We need assistance in overcoming this.

Tonight, you will hear some of the plans your leaders are creating so that you and others can become leaders in maintaining our spiritual growth. These will not be volunteer positions. You will be paid for your time and your efforts. I am turning the remainder of this meeting over to Imam Adel.

Before the imam gets up to speak, Kamil gives Hamid a look of surprise that they are willing to pay for their efforts.

For the next hour, Imam Adel explains some of the planned committees that are being considered. He explains that no one is being asked to commit to any committee tonight. They should take time to seriously think about what they would like to be involved with.

He goes on to say, A week from Friday, we would hope each of you will have made a decision. If you have any questions, I will be glad to answer them.

There are a few questions at the moment. The biggest fear among them is, are they being asked to be martyrs? The imam assures them this is not what the meeting is about. He ends the meeting with a comment to call him at anytime to discuss whatever questions they have in mind.

*     *     *

When everyone leaves, the senior mullah asks Imam Adel, what his opinions of Kamil and Hamid are.

I don’t have a feel for them yet, do you?

No, I don’t; not yet. Let’s see what transpires by next Friday. If we don’t get a positive response from them by that time; I want you to make sure they are blacklisted from any employment so they begin to need us more than we need them.

It will be done as you ask.

Each man goes his own way after the session.

*     *     *

After leaving the meeting, Kamil asks, Hamid, What did you think about the session?

I think Imam Adel, is a very persuasive speaker. I felt my neck hairs standing up when he spoke, telling me to watch out for whatever he is talking about.

You didn’t hear anything negative?

Negative, not really, but the whole picture may not be what he makes it up to be.

You’re being very critical of him.

You’re right, I am. I just saw the results of terrible tragedy happen right here in our own backyard. You’re damn right I am being critical; especially when my ass may be on the line.

Hamid, I have to do something this evening, I’ll see you Friday at services.

Good, I need time to think about this evening, Hamid thought. Fine, see you then.

Chapter Two

Washington DC

At 9:00 AM the next day:

Inside the Oval Office, President William Egan is sitting at his desk with the newly appointed Iranian ambassador to the United Nations seated in front of him. Vafa, whose name means loyalty and faithfulness, is in awe of being alone with the most powerful leader in the world.

Ambassador, after what both of our countries recently experienced, I would hope we could develop more meaningful relationships in our future dealings.

"Mr. President, there are many in my country who wish to see change. However, you and I both know that sometimes change is difficult and happens only after time gives it room to grow.

In my new position, I plan to be a positive role in that change. But you must be aware; I must do what is in the best interest for Iran.

I hope that your people see that we have kept our word with them after we launched our attack on your military and your government.

Yes, they are aware of your efforts. Right now a government is being formed so those who propose change will have an equal say in the future of our country.

Do you think the revolutionary guard will try to hold a coup and overtake what is being created?

That could happen, yes, I will not deny it. However, many smart minds are working to avoid this.

Since this conversation cannot really go very far, let’s talk about what you and I can do. First, how can we help you to get settled in?

"I’ve been in your country for three weeks now. The Secretary General of the UN has been a great asset to me in getting acclimated and settled in.

I am learning the ropes about the responsibilities of ambassadorship. Learning by trial and error you might say. I’m hoping to make very few errors.

The Secretary General advised me you are a bright and conscientious man. She says you will do well.

I will do my best. I hope that the future brings both of our expectations to a reality.

With that said, President Egan rises and offers his handshake. Vafa stands knowing it is time to depart and heads to the door.

One more thing Ambassador, feel free to call me if you would like to discuss any matters.

Thank you, sir, I may take you up on that offer.

*     *     *

President Egan picks up his phone and pushes the speed button for his secretary. Janet, have Allison and John arrived for their ten o’clock meeting?

Yes sir, they are seated in the waiting area. Would you like me to send them in?

Please do that.

Janet rises from behind her desk. Oh these small stretch breaks are great. She walks into the waiting area. The president would like to see the two of you now.

Both Allison and John give Janet a polite, thank you."

As they enter the Oval Office the president rises and says, I’m glad both of you are a little early. My meeting with the Iranian ambassador didn’t take very long.

As they approach the front of the president’s desk, Allison McDonald is the first to speak. Is there something wrong, sir?

Wrong, no, not really, at least not right at this moment. The new Iranian ambassador is playing it very coy with me. He is trying to feel his oats and wants to make sure I understand where he is coming from.

Is that a problem, suh? remarks John Walker.

No, not in itself, I’m having a difficult time getting over the feeling everything isn’t all right inside of Iran. I don’t see those radical fundamentalists giving up so easily.

Both John and Allison start to reply at the same time and smile at each other.

We’re watching Iran very closely by satellite, remarks John.

We’ve increased the number of agents inside of Iran to twice their former numbers, replies Allison.

Do you see or hear anything suspicious? asks the president.

Both of them reply with a prompt no.

Waving his right arm in the air, the president says, Maybe I’m being overly cautious.

Understandable, remarks Allison.

With this year being an election year, the party is driving me crazy to select a vice-president to run on the ticket. I’m trying to find a new chief-of-staff to replace Maria, and it isn’t so easy. I don’t want to be side-tracked away from what is most important. I need the two of you to stay on top of anything relative to Iran and make sure I know quickly if you suspect anything.

John replies, Sir, you can stop worrying. You know both of us will keep you on top of everything. The little exercise you had us do before their attack taught both of us how to work together more effectively. We have continued to do that on a number of issues besides Iran.

Good! I know I can count on the two of you. I do want to get re-elected and try to complete projects I started in this term besides go to war.

Allison is quick to remark, You will get re-elected. The people know what you did for the country.

"I wish I felt as confident as you do, Allison. The world of politics is a strange breed, and you never know until all the votes are in.

What else do you have for me?

Both John and Allison make their regular morning reports.

Chapter Three

Back to New York

Ambassador Vafa sits in the back seat of the black Lincoln town car; his chauffeur is driving. They are headed north on route 95 from Washington DC. He hopes they arrive in New York before the traffic congestion begins.

As he looks out of the tinted side windows and sees the scenery flashing by, he begins to reflect on his meeting with the president.

President Egan seems to be a good man. Good but shrewd, he didn’t become president being a push-over. He knows how to play the game to get what he wants and what is best for his country. I suspect he would really want eventually to have peaceful relations with Iran, but at what cost?

I know I have a great deal to learn. I’ve been given this job because my family has a history of being honest and trustworthy. I hope I can live up to the expectations that are awaiting me. Yet my grandparents have instilled a deep sense of religious fervor in me. I know some of the traditional ways are stymieing the growth of my country. Now I feel as if I am being torn in two directions.

Suddenly, his car phone rings. As he places the receiver to his ear he says, Vafa.

His staff advisor says, Sir, your plans for this evening have changed. You were to have dinner with the ambassadors of Iraq and Syria. It seems that something has come up for the two ambassadors. They apologize deeply and will reschedule very soon.

Not a problem, Farbod, I will probably be late getting back anyway. This traffic heading north in Delaware is very heavy. We haven’t even entered New Jersey yet. Is the schedule for tomorrow set or are there additional changes?

The schedule remains the same unless there are last minute changes we are not aware of at the moment. Farbod replied.

Good, why don’t you take off a little early this evening, but meet me in the office at seven tomorrow so we can go over a few things before my first meeting.

Of course, he replies. Farbod is not an early riser and his new boss likes getting into the office early. However, he realizes he’s getting a break today, so he really can’t complain. He will miss the heavy traffic tonight by leaving at this hour.

Vafa hangs up the receiver.

Farbod is looking out of the window across from his desk. He will call his wife and tell her he will be home early for dinner. Maybe the two of them could go out instead. They haven’t been out of the house for sometime with all of the schedule changes going on in the office.

Yes, that is my next priority. Especially, since I will have to leave home very early in the morning to make it to the office for seven.

Meanwhile, Vafa is trying to figure out why two ambassadors suddenly became unavailable at the same time to have dinner. It does seem odd.

Chapter Four

Evening at the CIA

Allison McDonald is reading reports from two field agents located inside of Iran. Both men have been able to infiltrate the fundamentalist community and are attending services at different mosques. The interesting commonality is that both reports are almost identical. They speak of meetings being held after evening services, led by imams. Imams who discuss how they plan to develop committees to encourage the following of Allah by developing community projects. The talk of spiritual development is the main topic and the positions of leaders will be paid by the mosques. With unemployment rising, it appears that the religious zealots are planning to maintain control over the people, by providing for the basic needs of families while improving their images after the bombings.

The conclusion of both reports is as follows: The imams are looking to remove blame from themselves, and place it elsewhere.

Standing and stretching to remove the tension in her neck and body, Allison moves over to the large bullet proof window overlooking the CIA campus. With her arms folded she looks below, it is dark, street lights look dim from this height, she sees employees moving about. From this height they look like mere specks and it feels as if they have very few cares in the world. Wouldn’t it be nice to feel free from my everyday pressures?

The phone starts to ring and she is brought back into the real world, she moves back to her desk. Her secretary speaks when she picks up the receiver. Director, you have Ariel Wattenberg, from Israel on the phone.

Thank you, Sharon. I’ll take it. Allison sits down in her chair.

Ariel, you’re working very late. It must be midnight in Israel.

You know Allison, it comes with the job. I’m sure you have your share of midnight oil burnings.

Allison lets out a slight laugh, You’re right, I do. What is happening for me to deserve this late hour call?

After a few seconds of silence, Ariel continues, After what your president did to save Israel, I have strict instructions from our prime minister to pass along any bits of information that may be of value to you.

Thank you, Ariel, and what bits do you have to make you call this late?

It may be just minor posturing on the parts of imams in the mosques, but my gut tells me something is in the works.

What is your gut telling you, Ariel?

We have four agents inside Tehran. They attend services at four different mosques. Imams are developing a plan to put together projects to get people involved in spiritual work and humanitarian projects.

Is that bad, what would you expect them to do?

Allison, if a couple of mosques were doing this. I would say this is a positive thing for the communities. I believe this is a coordinated plan to maintain control over the changes that might happen inside the government of Iran.

Allison is holding a pencil