“It’s a go,” Alan said. “Let’s go ahead and do it.”
“Done,” Brian said.
“Let’s get to the most important part, Herb. What about a target?” Alan wanted to know.
“My choice is Mohammed Omar al-Fayez,” Herb said after a lengthy attention gathering pause.
“Come again?” Brian asked. Everyone at the table knew that Mohammed Omar al-Fayez had been reported dead in the Mosque bombing. “Don’t keep us in suspense, mate. You know something we don’t?”
“He’s not as dead as everyone thought. Or maybe it would be better to say he’s not as dead as the Taliban would like us to believe.” Herb said. “Kudos to your buddies at MI-6, Brian. They’ve a got a very wel -informed mole in the Taliban who says al-Fayez is alive and well and raising havoc just like in the good old days. If he’s alive, I put him at the top of our hit list.”
“I second that,” Brian said.
“I say kil him, the sooner the better,” Marie said.
No one blinked. Marie had put into words what they were al thinking.
“How do we find him?” Alan wanted to know.
“We’l find him,” Herb said. “Leave that to me.”
“Okay then. We’ve made some decisions. Now we need the man-power.”
“I’m on my way to Harry Neumann’s office right now,” Brian said.
“I’l have us the deal on the El Paso site by the end of the day,” Marie promised.
“I’l start to put together a supply list and any construction issues we might be facing.”
“And I’l have our instructors on the payrol by midweek and settled into their Texas digs by Friday,” Herb said.
“Good. Wel done.” Alan shook their hands. “Keep up the good work. Adala’s not just an idea anymore.”
WHEN ALAN RETURNED to his office, his assistant secretary handed him an envelope with his name and the words “For your eyes only” neatly printed across the front. There was no postage. “A courier delivered it exactly three minutes ago.”
Alan closed the door to his office and tore open the envelope. A sticky note said,
“From the desk of Imam Mohammed Aziz.” A handwritten note read, “You might find this interesting.”
The sticky note was pinned to an article from US News and World Report. The article introduced the reader to a crusading Shi te imam named Bani Beheshti and highlighted the English translation of one of his recent sermons. It read:
“I want to tel you, the few wil contaminate the many if we permit them to do so. The Wahhabi have contaminated Saudi Arabia. They teach in the Madrassas to hate Jews, Christians and al Muslims not subscribing to their extremist views. In fact they instruct 14-year-old children that it is a good thing to kil these innocent people they describe as infidel. They are active throughout Islam, and it must be our work to oppose them. We must realize that each time these murderers act, the blame is heaped upon al Muslims. The Prophet Mohammed, may peace be upon Him, has taught us that we are one, that there is but one God, and those that believe in the one God are not infidels. It is for us to show the rest of the world the dignity and righteousness of true Islam.”
“An al y,” Alan said out loud. “Good.”
Now if we can just convince the rest of the Muslim world to jump on Imam Beheshti’s bandwagon, he thought, this war will be over in no time.
“BRIAN!” HARRY NEUMAN cal ed enthusiastical y. “Good to see you. Come on in.”
Harry Neumann’s Human Resource office looked like a war zone. Three members of his staff had set up makeshift desks in a semicircle next to one wal ; papers were piled high on every conceivable surface; and three phones were ringing at the same time.