“It should not be a problem. Video cassettes jam all the time. Let’s take a look.”
They walked the few steps across the hall to Carson’s studio apartment. Khali examined the video cassette recorder, took it apart, removed the jammed video tape and reassembled the unit in less than five minutes. He looked at the title of the movie, rolled his eyes and tossed the undamaged videotape to Carson.
Carson ignored Khali’s obvious disdain for the title of the movie. “Thanks, how did you fix it so quickly?”
“It was easy. Ibrihim makes me take things apart and salvage the parts.” He smiled. “It was fun to fix something for a change.”
“What are you doing with the electronic parts? Are you working on a project?”
Khali’s facial muscles tightened. Carson hit on something but did not want to put Kali on guard, so he quickly changed the subject. “So where did you come from last night? You said you were on a bus?”
“Yes, I was in North Carolina. I worked in a supermarket. Mohamed, from the Mosque, sent me there. I stayed until yesterday. I was fired for being friendly with the ladies. I am afraid to see Mohamed. He is very angry with me.”
Carson laughed. “What did you do? Grope someone?”
Khali grinned and put this head down. He gathered up his tools. Carson reached into his wallet for a five dollar bill and handed it to Khali.
Kali did not take the money.
Carson held it out. “You earned it. Buy yourself breakfast, or something. You saved me money with the video store.”
Chapter 11
After Khali left his apartment, Carson sat on his bed and thought about all the things he saw inside Khali’s apartment.
He was disturbed by his neighbors’ living conditions. Four young men shared a one room apartment, but, it was sparsely furnished. The air mattresses and sleeping bags did not look comfortable or permanent. The only non-essential fixtures were a television set, a VCR, a telephone and a framed picture of Sheikh Rahman. The portrait of Sheik Rahman set off warning bells.
Sheikh Rahman was a convicted terrorist and the four year anniversary of his arrest had just passed. Carson let out a breath. A whole wall was devoted to his portrait, with a light fixture installed above the picture frame, like the kind in museums. The light made the picture look eerily like a shrine. Decoration or adoration? Either one was not good.
The telephone in the kitchenette threw Carson for a loop. Since Ibrihim spent so much time on the pay phone outside, Carson was sure there was no phone in the apartment. But he was wrong. Why did Ibrihim use the pay phone? Did he need privacy from his roommates? Did he use the public phone to hide who he was calling?
So many questions, all centered on Ibrihim. Was he a harmless terrorist sympathizer with a big mouth or an extremist ready to cross the line into action?
Why did Ibrihim encourage Khali to become proficient with electronics? What was so important that he collected electronic appliances while Khali was away? Why did Khali fiddle around electronic equipment as soon as he returned from a long road trip? What was so urgent?
Carson’s head spun with the implications. He became dizzy and lay on his bed. He closed his eyes and imagined what motivated Khali’s electronic hobby. Khali genuinely enjoyed fixing the VCR and seemed to resent Ibrihim’s insistence on his working on electronics. Why did Ibrihim control Khali’s hobby?
The answer might be found in the calls Ibrihim made on the pay telephone. He had to find out the type of phone card Ibrihim used so the calls can be traced.
Carson stood slowly. His head stopped spinning, but he’d have to eat breakfast before heading into work if he wanted to keep it that way. He’ll do some quick sleuthing first, though. By the time he called Carmella, from his usual spot in Weehawken, on his lunch break, he wanted to have some useful information about the calling card to relay. He grabbed his car keys and headed for the door.
On his way to his car, Carson stopped into Nelley’s Grocery Store. He wound up purchasing two calling cards instead of one. When he asked Nelley for the same calling card that Ibrihim purchased he was handed a forty dollar Desert Oasis calling card and a twenty dollar Cheap Call calling card.
Carson forked over sixty bucks. “Nelley, are these cards rechargeable?”
“Yes. But Ibrihim buys new cards every week anyway.”
Carson smiled. “No need for me to recharge these cards. They will easily last a year. I’m nowhere near as popular as Ibrihim.”
“Believe me, that guy is not popular around here.”
“He is definitely not friendly,” Carson said as he left the store.
Chapter 12
Carmella, Matt and Roy made it to McDonald’s ordering counter just before the lunch menu kicked in. They squeezed into the last vacant table and devoured a quick pancake breakfast.
They each brought their coffee back to the office where they huddled over the New York State Police computer work station, waiting for a response. Roy was looking for a vehicle used in a string of purse snatches in the Westchester section of the Bronx. The description of the vehicle was a green Chevrolet four door sedan with a partial New York plate of “DMF”. Roy put in a query for all Chevrolets with the partial plate of “DMF” registered in the state.
Before Carmella finished her coffee, the printer began to spit out pages and pages of possible hits. They each took a page. Carmella scanned the first page for green four door sedans and found five. She highlighted each one in yellow.
When she finished the page, she handed it to Roy. Just as she reached for a fresh page from the pile on the printer, her cell phone rang.
Matt stopped what he was doing and stared at Carmella. Carson had something important to share or he was in trouble, or both. Carmella sprinted down the aisle to her cubicle. Matt followed.
She grabbed the cell phone from her bag. “What’s up?”
“Everything is fine. I’m okay.” Carson said quickly.
Carmella exhaled slowly. She gave Matt a look of relief and sunk into her chair. “You had a nice crowd at the bar last night.”
“Yeah, friends from work. Thanks for the beer. Oh… say thanks to Matt.”
“Will do. He’s standing right next to me.”
Carson got to the reason for his call.
He told Carmella all about his next door neighbors. He described the shrine to Sheikh Rahman, Ibrahim’s rants about the Jihad and his bigotry towards Jews. Also troubling, were Ibrihim’s private phone conversations on a public phone. Khali’s electronic skills, especially his concentration on small components and wiring, spooked him. He suspected that Ibrihim might be using Khali’s electronic knowledge to execute a sinister plan, involving explosives.
“Ibrihim talked about blowing something up to teach the New York Jews a lesson. I have no way of knowing if it was an empty threat.”
Carmella scratched out notes while Carson talked. She felt Matt’s breath on her neck as he read them.
When Carson was finished, Carmella asked a series of questions: “Can you give me Ibrihim and Khali’s pedigree information? What are the phone card brands and carriers that Ibrihim uses?”
She asked for the telephone number of the public pay phone. Carson did not know it.
“It should be easy enough to get, though” he said. “I can give it to you tomorrow.”
“Good. That will give me time to gather some info for you,” Carmella said. “After I conduct background checks I will pass the information onto Arthur Henderson. See what he comes up with.”
“Ibrihim uses pre-paid calling cards.” Carson said. “I doubt if you can get anything from them even if you have the pay phone number.”
“There may be a back door into tracking his calls,” she said.
Before hanging up, Carmella had an unrelated question for Carson. “Did you know that there was a Sheikh Gilani Lane in rural Virginia?”
“No, but it can’t be good.”
“Do you think The Impoverished is starting another encampment t
here?”
“Yeah. Why else would the street be named after Gilani? Hey, wait a second. Something about Virginia rings a bell.” Carson paused. “In the winter of ninety-three, right around the time of the World Trade Center bombing, some Brooklyn members of The Impoverished moved to a town in Virginia.”
“Do you know where?”
Carson turned a cigarette lighter over and over in his hand while he concentrated. He looked at the red Bic. “Oh, I got it. In a town called Red House. They moved into trailers on Route 615. I guess they had the street named changed.”
“Wow, I’ll pass that on to Henderson. Talk to you tomorrow.” She hung up and got back to work.
Chapter 13
Carmella dug into Ibrihim and Khali’s backgrounds but her shovel proved as useful as a child’s beach toy. It turned up sand, but no dirt. Ibrihim and Khali were new to the country and young. They did not have time to build a history in the United States. The information she found was fundamental and unenlightening.
Ibrihim was born in Palestine and moved to Canada a few years ago. He applied for political asylum in the United States and moved to Brooklyn last year. Since he was only twenty-three years old, she thought it odd that he did so much traveling away from his homeland, all by himself. He must have started his journey when he was in his late teens. Was he running from something or did he have a mission in the United States?
Khali came to the United States from Jordan just a few months ago. A tidbit on his VISA application stood out. He listed an affiliation with a Palestinian political group, but did not disclose the name of the organization. She knew the probable reason that Khali neglected to name the organization. He was a member of HAMAS.
HAMAS is the Palestinian terror group responsible for suicide bombings in Israel. Khali was playing it smooth by admitting to an affiliation to a political group, in the event that Immigration had his name on a list of known HAMAS members. He would not be caught in a lie nor would he open a kettle of worms by offering the name of the radical group.
Someone must have advised Khali to play that angle. Did he come to New York for a specific reason? To build a bomb? No, not a bomb. With his electronics’ knowledge, he could assemble a detonation device for a bomb.
Carmella wrote down the little she learned about Ibrihim and Khali. She passed the pedigree information to Matt and Roy, so they could do their magic.
Next, she conducted an internet search on the Ibrihim’s calling card brands. The Desert Oasis card provided service for calls to Pakistan, Afghanistan, Egypt and Jordan. The Cheap Call Calling Card serviced local and long distance calls within the continental United States and Canada.
She had to hand it to Ibrihim. He chose the two cards that allowed him to make calls anywhere in the Middle East, East Africa, the United States and Canada. He was smart.
Both cards were prepaid and untraceable. But, each card had a unique Personal Identification Number. Calls could be traced to its card if the telephone where the calls were made is known.
Since Ibrihim discards his used cards without recharging them, at best, the calls could be traced to the actual telephone where the calls were made, but not directly to him.
If she knew where the calls were made, she could obtain a chronological list of all calls made with each card. When Carson provides the telephone number of the public telephone, she will get a dump on the calls made from that phone. Then she could match up the numbers called with the individual calling cards. A pattern should emerge identifying Ibrihim’s calls.
She would never be able to prove it in court. Not without an eye witness placing Ibrihim on the phone at the same time the calls were made. Carson cannot keep a record of the times that he observes Ibrihim on the phone. Written records can be discovered and his cover would be blown. Too risky.
Chapter 14
Carmella ran every database she could. Time to visit Arthur Henderson. He might have information about Sheikh Gilani Lane in Virginia by now.
Before she left the office, she called Henderson to arrange a meeting. “How about meeting in the lobby?”
“No problem.” Henderson agreed. “I’m on my way.”
Before leaving her desk, Carmella took her notes pertaining to Michael Washington, Sheikh Gilani Lane and Ibrihim and Khali’s pedigree. Even if Henderson had nothing further to add about Carson’s neighbors, he should be informed about their suspicious behavior.
When she reached the lobby, Henderson was waiting with his briefcase in one hand and his suit jacket neatly folded over his arm. They walked to the rear court yard and found a secluded bench. They sat, side by side.
Henderson had checked into Sheikh Gilani Lane, as Carmella requested earlier in the day. “Sheikh Gilani Lane is located in Red House, Virginia. It consists of over forty-five acres of hillside land. A Brooklyn man purchased the property in February of 1993.”
“February – 1993.” Carmella gasped. She exchanged a look with Henderson. “The property acquisition process must have started about the same time that the World Trade Center bombing moved into the operational stage. It takes, at the very least, a couple of weeks to close on a property purchase, right?”
“Minimally,” he said.
Carmella relayed what she learned about the encampment from the brief conversation she had earlier with Carson. “Twenty families, mostly The Impoverished members from Brooklyn, moved into trailers located on route 615, now named Sheikh Gilani Lane. They moved around the time of the World Trade Center bombing.”
“Sure,” he nodded. “That makes sense because the Brooklyn man that purchased the property acted as an agent for The Impoverished.”
“So, we have proof that the property in Red House is an encampment for the Impoverished.”
“Well, a reasonable person can presume that Sheikh Gilani purchased the property using al-Fuqra funds and hid the transaction under the The Impoverished banner.” He frowned, “but it is not enough proof. We need to tie criminal activity directly to the encampment.”
She told Henderson about the wanted perpetrator, Michael Washington. “His jail house conversion to The Impoverished and his connection to Sheikh Gilani Lane in Red House can be documented. Isn’t that proof enough?”
“Unfortunately, no,” he said. “All that shows is a fugitive hiding out with old friends.”
Carmella shook her head.
“It gets worse,” Henderson said. ”If the Red House Encampment provides safe harbor to a criminal fugitive, like Michael Washington, it may also provide a safe harbor for terrorist conspirators.”
“Damn. How the heck do we fight terrorists in our own country if they have the same rights and protections that law-abiding American citizens have?” asked Carmella.
“We keep doing what we are doing. That’s all we can do. Otherwise they win by taking away our freedom.”
“Okay. Let’s keep at it then.” Carmella smiled.
Henderson tapped her on the knee. “We can make a difference in our neck of the woods as long as we keep at it.”
She looked up at him. “Hope so.”
Henderson continued, “I sent an informational to the FBI office in Virginia, detailing our suspicions that The Impoverished set up an encampment in Red House. They will keep an eye on things there.”
As he rose to leave, he handed Carmella the telephone number and name of the FBI agent in Virginia with instructions to pass it on to Detective Morales.
When Carmella told Henderson that she had news of Carson, he sat back down.
“Carson is suspicious that his neighbors, Ibrihim and Khali, are planning something.” Carmella handed Henderson the workup she did on them.
He agreed to look into Ibrihim and Khali. “Let’s meet up again tomorrow. I will let you know what I find.”
“Sounds good,” Carmella stood. “See you tomorrow.”
Chapter 15
The television set blasted a breaking news story and Ibrihim danced around the room in jubilant circles, shouting joyously. “It h
as happened! At last.”
Ahmed grabbed Ibrihim mid circle and forced him to sit. “Ibrihim, stay still. We must hear the report.”
An Israeli news reporter, his voice solemn said: “The death count is now at sixteen and one hundred and seventy injured. The scene at the Mahane Yehuda Outdoor Market in Jerusalem is chaotic…”
“It is as it should be,” Ibrihim dropped to his knees. “Allah Akbar!”
“Ibrihim, sshh!!!” barked Ahmed.
“— HAMAS has taken credit for the lunchtime suicide bombing—.”
Ibrihim’s ranting drowned out the reporter’s voice. “Now is the time for us. We will follow up on the Jerusalem bombing now. The arrogant American Jews will never see us coming.”
Ahmed face turned red. “No. I will not let your eagerness jeopardize the whole plan. We will plan out every detail and you will stick to it. You will not act on a whim.”
“Then, when? When can we do it? Tomorrow?” asked Ibrihim.
“Thursday. The day before the Sabbath begins. There will be more commuters about, closing business for the Sabbath.”
“Yes – Thursday!” Ibrihim closed his eyes and smiled. A new idea crept into his mind. He will compose a letter threatening more suicide bombings. Sheikh Rahman, Ramzi Yousef and Sheikh Yassin must be released or additional suicide bombers will blow up more American Jews. If he timed it right, the State Department will get the letter on Thursday. Right after the bombings.
Yes, he would wait until Thursday.
Chapter 16
Ibrihim rushed into the apartment, threw a stack of newspapers on the hardwood floor and looked around the room. Once he spotted Khali’s toolbox near the closet door, his eyes grew wide. He fumbled inside the toolbox until he found what he needed.
He sat cross-legged on the floor next to the newspapers. He placed a box cutter and a tube of glue next to the pile of newspapers. Taking the centerfold of The New York Post, Ibrihim opened it wide. Now he had a place for his letters. A make-shift workspace.
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