Death Drones

by Christopher Fox

  “I understand,” said Omar. “With millions of infidel Americans, we need to kill them off thousands at a time to make any difference.”

  “Absolutely my boy, or should I say, my man,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I am ready to serve Allah,” said Omar.

  “And you will, soon. A warehouse has been secured in Houston—here is the address,” Basim handed him a note with an address marked on it. “You will receive a shipment of a chemical agent soon, and you are to construct a hermetically sealed room where you can work with the agent using hazmat suits. The chemical agent is Sarin and is one of the most potent toxins known. Osama bin Laden, our beloved author of the al-Qaeda movement, obtained the toxin from Saddam Hussein—who is with him in paradise—before the pig Americans captured him. Saddam’s only stipulation was that we use it against the Americans.”

  “How will we deliver the agent?”

  “For now, that will be someone else’s responsibility. I will apprise when the time is right and you are not to tell anyone else about this plan. ”

  Al-Qaeda protocol was to compartmentalize operations as much as possible so that should any part be compromised, the plan can still be put in place. Also, they arranged the processes so that once the plan was in place, there would be multiple ‘arms’ or ‘wings’ so that any single failed element would not jeopardize the whole plan.

  “Thank you,” said Omar. “Thank you for allowing me to serve the cause and Allah.”

  “It is loyal and faithful brothers like you that will help us win our Jihad,” said Basim as he stood and embraced Omar.

  “Allah yadhhab maeak ,” said Basim. “God go with you.”

  Omar left the room, and Basim walked out to the rest of the men and addressed one of them.

  “Kadar Rahal.”

  Kadar stood up and said, “Yes Emir.”

  “A moment please?” he said and beckoned Kadar to follow him. They went to the same room, and Basim closed the door.

  “We have been pleased with your loyalty to the cause,” Basim began, “and we have a special operation for you.”

  “Thank you,” said Kadar. “It is my honour to serve.”

  “You are our expert in quad ’copters I understand.”

  “Yes, I am. I am training others in handling under different conditions. We have long been aware of the potential for weaponizing drones. Of course, there are severe limitations to the weight they can carry, but we have been experimenting with a few high-lift units.”

  “Very good,” said Basim. “I want you to procure a dozen drones from various suppliers and ship them to a set of addresses I will give you. The lift capacity will need to be close to 25 pounds.”

  “That will be difficult,” said Kadar. “Commercially available units become very scarce above ten pounds, especially from multiple suppliers.”

  “Then work on getting the highest lift you can,” said Basim. “Let me know the cost and I will arrange payment.”

  “I will order them right away.”

  “Here are the addresses to where you will send them. They are all brothers of the cause. You will use this credit card to charge the purchases to,” Basim handed him a VISA card, “and an address for the card.”

  “Thank you,” he said, “but I do not need your credit card. I will gladly pay for the drones as support for the cause. I have several cards I can use and none of them can be traced back to me.”

  “You are a true brother for Islam,” Basim said as he reached out to him and they embraced.

  “Allah yadhhab maeak ,” said Basim. “God go with you.”

  * * * *

  Kadar was a US citizen born in Titusville, Florida, to a Pakistani couple who were peaceful Muslims who had fled the repressed nature of their homeland for the sanctity of the US over 40 years ago. His father, Subash, was an aeronautical engineer and eventually, they settled in Florida where he worked on the NASA space program. Five years after moving to the US, he met Kadar’s mother, Sasha, and they married three years later. Kadar was born within two years. They would sire three more children, one son and two daughters.

  Kadar was somewhat of a rebel growing up and hung out with the more seedy people of Titusville, often being picked up by police for misdemeanours, but never served time. Eventually rising to leader of one of the local gangs, he built a large turf of drug and prostitution rings. Kadar was always technically inclined and extremely computer-literate, a literacy he used more for bad than for good. He set up several internet scams enticing elderly and vulnerable people out of their savings by masquerading as a grandson or daughter in trouble. He surfed the internet to learn about his heritage and eventually found one of the recruiting sites for al-Qaeda. While his parents had brought him up as a Muslim, they were not radical. Kadar, however, saw the ways of the radical Muslim and started to hate the US and their allies. Encouraged to support the cause, he sent much of his ill-gotten gains to finance terrorist activities. But, he kept a low profile and told no one of his affiliation with the terror network, except brothers of the cause.

  After researching heavy-lift drones, he found several suppliers for ’copters capable of lifting up to 25 lb., designed for crop-dusting, and came with chemical sprayers that should be ideal for dispensing the Sarin. He ordered three from each of four suppliers across the US, shipping each order to a separate address. What he didn’t realize was that they did not keep such high-value units in stock and each supplier ordered from the main warehouse, so there was a simultaneous order for twelve drones, an unusual spike in sales for $4,000 units.

  * * * *

  Omar Maroun and Kadar Rahal had just finished their noon prayers and folded their prayer mats; Omar returned to inspect the recently received crates, and Kadar finished the set-up for one of the drones. They and their group had received virtually all the material they needed for their planned attack. Basim had rented the small warehouse in Houston and had the crates of toxin shipped there. He and Kadar were there to put the finishing touches to their plan. When Omar opened the crate, he felt a little nervous. Even though the toxin was in sealed containers, handling them gave him the shivers. Each crate contained six steel cylindrical devices, like SCUBA tanks, 24" long by 7" diameter; 18 in all. He removed some packing material and Kadar carefully lifted a cylinder from the crate and carried it over to a portable scale. Placing it on the scale’s platform, he read the weight—45 lb.—which would be a problem. Kadar had purchased twelve crop-dusting drone ‘copters from various outlets so as not to draw any suspicion and had them shipped to different locations; addresses given him by his Emir. The specifications for the drones was for a lifting capacity of up to 25 lb., which would limit flight time to only 20 minutes, even with the optional second battery he purchased. A dispensing valve and control board needed to be added, which would add another two pounds. He placed the dispensing valve and control board on the scales and it read 1.7 lb., making the total weight close to 47 lb.—too heavy. It would be necessary to dispense the Sarin into smaller containers. The drones were equipped with containers normally used for chemical fertilizers, but his preference would be not to dispense the Sarin. He could save weight by not including a camera, but he had that figured out. He had arranged for ten operatives to control ten of the drones, and he would work another drone with the camera that would act as their ‘eyes’. Within the warehouse, Kadar had set up a large 4k monitor to receive the camera’s HD signals.

  Omar had filled the tank on a drone with water, along with a control board, and launched it within the high-ceilinged warehouse. The container would be the same weight as that containing the Sarin, but he wanted to test the delivery system. He hovered the craft about 15' off the floor and depressed the button to release the solution. The ‘copter lurched as the on-board pump delivered the water in a fine spray through a nozzle with an audible hiss. Feeling pleased with himself, he removed the dispensing valve and put everything back into the locked storage area.

  * * * *

  Alex
was tasked with trying to trace abnormal spikes in sales of drones, and he noticed the 12, high-value units from one manufacturer. Even though they were being shipped to four suppliers, it was an anomaly and worth checking out. The shipments were traced to the suppliers and from there to the addressees. He knew he was on to something when all the recipients had Arab names—more than a coincidence. All units had been shipped and received according to UPS, so he noted the addresses and the dates.

  “Got something that needs checking out,” said Alex to the team. Jimmy looked up from his screen as did Alberto. Maria and Miguel were out of the office for the time being. She wanted to talk to him, she had said.

  “Found an amazing coincidence with purchases of high-value drones being shipped to four suppliers and to Arab-named recipients,” said Alex.

  “That is interesting,” Alberto commented. “Where were they shipped?”

  “All over the place,” Alex read from a list. “Two in NY State, two in Alabama, three in Mississippi, two in Florida, one in Kansas, one in North Carolina and one in Connecticut.”

  “Better get those addresses to Daniel,” said Alberto. “They can check them out.”

  “I’ll give them to the FBI,” said Melinda. “We can check them against our databases as well.”

  “I don't think the drones or the recipients are there now, but we could put a trace on credit cards; find out any vehicles registered to them and trace them.”

  “I'm on it,” said Jimmy.

  “You do the CCs and I’ll do the vehicle traces,” said Alberto to Jimmy. “Melinda? Can you look for any purchases for hazmat suits to other than government or medical facilities? Alex; good work. Ask Daniel, when you call to give him the names and addresses, if there has been any movement of the other people Mohammad gave us.”

  “Will do,” he said as he left the office and withdrew to his ‘den’.

  Alex had some of the most sophisticated equipment outside of a government security agency. He had linked several terminals to a mainframe super-computer capable of handling terabytes of data in milliseconds. Multiple display monitors, set up in a curved fashion, bordered a main 100" 4k monitor in the centre. Alex found his love of computers early in life when his parents sent him to the US. Initially enrolling in an engineering program, his affinity to logic thinking and understanding of the various machine-language programs convinced him to switch to computer science. For fun, he would hack into secure networks, just to satisfy himself that he could, until police visited him for trying to hack into the FBI network. They gave him a slap on the wrist, and asked him to call them when he graduated, which he did, garnering a position in the cyber-crime department. Longing for his native homeland, he left after two years and joined the San José Police Department, again working cyber-crime. Frederico, when his term for Chief of Police was up, offered Alex employment with his newly formed agency.

  Alex sifted through the myriad of information with respect to matching up names of suspected terrorists, locations of the drone deliveries and credit card charges. He had two hits from gas stations in Florida and New York, then Texas and Detroit. Seems that these people were travelling cross country and were not smart enough to use cash. He monitored them for the next day and saw another charge in Houston for Rashid Bahar, the Florida suspect, and one in Salt Lake City for Yasin Hajja, the NY suspect. So, they were travelling to Houston. This was more than a coincidence, and Alex sent emails to the other team members advising them of such. There were no motel or hotel reservations shown on CC receipts, but they may not have arrived there yet, or they used cash.

  Jimmy cross-referenced the suspect’s names with vehicle registrations and found one for each of them. He then searched all traffic cameras for matches. He found four out of the six with matches at major intersections and toll roads. It was clear that each of them were heading to Texas and, more likely, Houston.

  Melinda searched the net for companies that manufactured and supplied OSHA Level A hazmat suits. There were several to choose from, and she wondered how she would narrow her search. Companies would not freely give customer information, even to police, and then only through a warrant. Due to the bulkiness of the suits, it would be likely that they purchased it locally, or on-line and delivered. There didn't appear to be any suppliers locally, so she checked on-line outlets. The DuPont Tychem Responder CSM suit is rated for chemical weapons use and, likely with money no object, that would be Melinda’s first choice. Rather than approach the company, with Alex’s help, she hacked into the company’s shipping and receiving department and scanned for any recent deliveries of suits matching what she was looking for. Any on-line order requires using a CC, and the address has to match that of the cardholder. One such order within the last two weeks was from a numbered company in Virginia delivered to an address in Houston. By a Google Maps search, the location was a warehouse near the airport. It sounded promising, so she noted the delivery address and passed it on to the team.

  Twenty Two

  Basim al-Quereshi was pleased with how the plan—to annihilate thousands of Americans in a single attack—progressed. Not since 9/11 has there been such an ambitious attack on US soil. Everything was falling into place. The terrorists inserted the cylinders of Sarin into modified SCUBA tanks and smuggled them ashore on a dive boat that picked up the tanks at an off-shore rendezvous. Hidden amongst a truckload of medical gases, they were delivered to the warehouse in Houston. Maroun had completed the construction of the sealed chamber in the warehouse, and Kadar had procured all the drones.

  Basim had been made aware of the capture of Mohammad al-Barakah, but thought the Americans had grabbed him in a raid. He was apprised also of the hi-jacked shipment of drugs from Bluefields. Neither of these events played a role in his plan, or so he thought.

  Born in Peshawar to wealthy parents in 1973 and growing up in Pakistan’s North-West Frontier Province, where the base for the anti-Soviet Afghan fighters was ensconced, Basim al-Quereshi witnessed the repression by world powers against Muslims and vowed to join the fight against them. In 1977, Pakistan’s moderate Zulfikar Bhutto was ousted by Islamist General Muhammad Zaire-ul-Haq, who, under martial law, established Pakistan as an Islamic state following strict Sharia law, so these extremist viewpoints influenced Basim’s upbringing and early childhood. However, in 1988, Zaire-ul-Haq was killed in a mysterious plane crash, after which Benazir Bhutto, the first female Prime Minister of Pakistan, and the first woman to govern a Muslim majority nation, became elected. Over the next few years, Pakistan went through several leadership changes including another military coup in 1999.

  Basim, at the time of the coup, entered Peshawar University and studied Political Science. During his second year, the US had invaded Afghanistan, which drew Basim’s ire and cemented his distaste for world powers interfering in another country’s affairs. Graduating in 2003 with honours, he took advantage of an opportunity to do a Master’s program in the US. As much as he hated the Americans, other Jihadists convinced him that learning the American ways would be the best way to beat them. So he enrolled in the University of South California in a Political Science program and kept much to himself, learning the ways of the ‘infidels’ and rallying Islamic groups to join the cause. In 2007, he returned to Afghanistan and sought local Mujahideen groups to offer his services. It was there that he ran into an al-Qaeda cell hiding in the mountains, where they would make incursions into Afghanistan to attack US targets. One of the legendary fighters, Osama bin Laden, was among the groups hiding out, although at the time he never got to meet him. Basim rose in the ranks of the al-Qaeda network, due in part to his strict religious beliefs and his hatred for the ‘infidels’. He discovered he was a good leader; men wanting to follow him. Also, he became a good strategist and believed in extensive training and not to put a gun in someone’s hand and point them toward the enemy. His followers became an elite group chosen for the more difficult assignments. This eventually caught the attention of bin Laden, who granted an audience with h
im and Ayman al-Zawahiri.

  The name of Osama bin Laden had been legendary amongst Islamist supporters, and he considered it an honour to be recognized by him. Supporters loyal and close to bin Laden came to get Basim on a bitter cold day. When they blindfolded him for the journey, it did not offend him—security for the Emir was paramount as he carried a US$25m bounty on him, enough to encourage some of the most loyal to betray him. They travelled for over two hours on a smooth highway, then a further three-and-a-half hours on rough, rutted roads, the vehicle often spinning wheels and sliding. He imagined that they were climbing and knew how treacherous some mountain roads could be, but he placed his confidence in the skills of the driver. Eventually, they came to a stop, and they removed his blindfold. Getting got out of the Land Rover, he looked around, and saw he was in an enclosed compound, with several buildings inside. The bitterly cold wind tore at his exposed flesh, so he pulled his keffiyeh around his face. They led him through the ankle-deep snow to the largest of the buildings, and he felt the warm blast of air hit him when the door opened. He followed the men to a large room where they invited him to squat on one side of the large mat in the middle of the floor. Various hookahs were dotted about the room, which was adorned with cushions in brightly coloured fabric. Five other men sat on the other side of the mat and each nodded to him as he sat cross-legged on a cushion. All puffed on their hookahs and gestured to Basim to do the same. Basim grasped the mouthpiece and drew on the mu‘assel , a syrupy tobacco mix containing molasses and vegetable glycerol, listening to the bubbling of the water in the bottom of the bowl through which he drew the smoke. He filled his lungs and exhaled a cloud of bluish-white smoke.

  Two large men with AK-74s—a later version of the AK-47—slung over their shoulder stepped into the room and stood either side of the door. Behind them, a tall bearded man dressed in the traditional thawb with a camouflaged jacket over and wearing a white turban stepped into the room. Basim knew from pictures it was Osama. The other men stood, and he nervously got up and bowed to him, uttering Emir, while placing his right hand over his heart.