The Observer (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 3)

by Phelps, T Patrick

  “So, Old McDonald will become a sovereign state someday? I don’t follow.”

  “I’m still putting the pieces together, but Tareef Omar, who is the head of the organization, is what they call a separatist; meaning that he believes Muslims should be completely separate from the non-Muslim world. He and his ilk want to form an Islamic State that is 100% free from any Western influences. That means no diplomats, no Western businesses, no outside cultural influences; nothing but a unified Islamic State under Sharia Law.”

  “And I have to assume that this Tareef character wants to be the leader of this Islamic State?”

  “Hard to say. He certainly has never said that in public. But, either he is fully expecting to be the leader or is doing everything out of love for his religion.”

  “Isn’t becoming a state what ISIS is all about?”

  “It’s called a caliphate; a single Islamic State that unites all Muslims under one banner. ISIS will never accomplish it because of their methods used to assume power. ISIS cutting off heads and mass murdering other Muslims who don’t agree with their approach and methods will lead to their own downfall. If you’ve ever wondered why the US and other countries don’t take a stronger approach to dealing with the spread of ISIS, it’s because most governments feel that ISIS will implode. Either their own members will revolt or other Muslim countries or groups will unite and put an end to ISIS. The IUIEEO, however, is something quite different.”

  “How so?”

  “Remember at the diner when Henderson told you that the chatter we heard was from other known terror groups that were talking about something big happening and that none of them was the lead group?”

  “Yes. Henderson said that these known groups seemed to be almost worried about what was being planned,” Derek said.

  “That’s because the IUIEEO is much bigger, more organized and more powerful than any one of the groups. They actually don’t exist, but are parts and pieces put together from most of the known terror groups, some governments and officials, and a silent membership of tens of thousands. In fact, I’d say that they are more powerful than all the terror groups combined because they have a few things that none of the others have.”

  “And what are those things?”

  “One, they have the coverage and protection of the UN. They are operating in over 30 countries and, because of their UN Permanent Observer Status, governments seem to welcome them with open arms. They are masters at manipulating governmental leaders' obsessions with being politically correct. They also have money; lots of money. My investigation was cut short after that phone call I told you about, but I identified at least 70 companies like American Medical Supply that are operating in countries all over the world. They are all funneling millions of dollars to the organization each month. Probably closer to billions each month. The IUIEEO also gets a substantial amount of money and support from countries like the US that are intended to fund their publicized initiatives.

  “The last thing the IUIEEO has that scares the shit out of the other terror groups is mindshare. You ask 100 members of any terror group if they believe that the group will accomplish its mission, and you’ll get at least 70 of them that will say ‘no.’ These Jihadists believe in their mission but know that their mission’s objective will never be reached. Most of the Jihadists just want to make an impact; to send a message and hope that, someday, a group like the IUIEEO will come along. Now that they are around, more than a few members of other terror groups are raising their hands, hoping to be included in their membership ranks.

  “Trust me,” Juan said, “the IUIEEO’s beliefs and practices are not universally accepted. But, they are seen as being powerful enough to actually accomplish the mission of forming an Islamic State and being connected enough to be recognized as such. They have people at the highest levels of governments around the world in their pocket.”

  “Including the United States?” Derek asked, his face slack with worry.

  “Tareef Omar has been in the White House no less than 20 times in the past year. He’s met, one on one with the President. No idea what they talked about, but with our President and Congress being so damned concerned about not being seen as anti-Islamic, I have to believe that Tareef has a lot of influence over our leaders. The same is true around the world. Tareef or one of his associates, has met with the governmental leaders in England, France, Germany, Italy, Russia, Brazil, Spain and even Israel. You name an influential country, and the IUIEEO has their hooks into its leaders.”

  “Okay,” Derek said, shaking his head, “I get that this organization is connected, and I almost understand why other terror groups are afraid of them, but how the hell are they getting away with what they’re planning? I mean, I know our President is addicted to being politically correct, but to allow terrorism in his country? I have a hard time accepting that.”

  “He certainly doesn’t know what they are planning. None of the governmental leaders do. They just have turned a politically correct blind eye to the IUIEEO’s rapid expansion. The organization presents itself only as focused on ensuring that all Muslims are treated fairly, have equal rights under the laws of whatever country they live in and, most importantly, that all Muslims have access to education.”

  “Why is education so important?”

  “Most people believe that Jihadists are uneducated robots that follow whatever their radical leaders tell them. But, if education was made readily available, people believe that these Jihadists or the radicals would lose interest in following the radical leaders and would learn to think for themselves. The problem is that no one in any government has any idea of what is included in the education they are funding for the Muslims in their respective countries. Last year, the US government gave $250 million dollars to the IUIEEO’s education efforts. Guess what their students are being taught?”

  “Whatever the organization believes in.”

  “Actually, they are being taught what Tareef Omar believes.”

  “And that would be exactly what?”

  “That all Muslims are destined to live as a separatist state, ruled by Islamic law and in a country that is focused solely on the advancement of Islam. He teaches that Islam will be and should be the only religion left in the world and that it is the obligation of every Muslim to work, by whatever means, towards that end. In other words, Tareef Omar believes in world domination.”

  Derek considered everything Juan had told him. He wondered if Juan was exaggerating, making strong assumptions or was sharing a terrifying truth.

  “So,” Derek resumed, “this Tareef Omar is well connected with world leaders, and his status with the UN gives him the ability to spread his message around the world. What I don’t get is how this IUIEEO group hasn’t been recognized as a terrorist group yet by anyone in any government in the world? Doesn’t seem possible considering how concerned the world is with terrorism.”

  “What you don’t understand is that being politically correct is more important to many countries than stopping terrorism.”

  “I don’t think Russia cares too much about being politically correct,” Derek commented.

  “You only see what you are shown,” Juan said as he stood up, stretched his back then peered out of the window. “I can tell you that what Russia’s government does when the media cameras aren’t rolling is very politically correct. Think about it, if Russia was completely unconcerned with whether or not they offend a certain group of people, they probably wouldn’t have as many problems with terrorists as they do.”

  “I haven’t heard of many terrorist attacks in Russia.”

  “Trust me,” Juan said, turning back to face Derek, “they keep a very tight lid on what happens over there. Last thing they want is to show weakness. If terror groups sensed that Russia was having a hard job dealing with a serious terror problem, more of them would target Russia. The way they keep a lid on their problems and how they respond to and prevent terror, should tell you just how focused they are on being politi
cally correct.”

  “The way they treat homosexuals is pretty far from being pc,” Derek challenged.

  “That’s the Russian government responding the way the majority of their culture wants them to. The Russian people are very traditional. Can’t really expect anything else considering that they were closed off from most of Western influence for most of the 20th century. Russia is where the US was 50 years ago. Live long enough and you’ll see the Russian gay population getting married, having protection under laws written specifically for their protection and even running for and being elected into political offices.”

  “How strong is the IUIEEO in other countries?” Derek said, conceding the argument that Russia seemed wholly unconcerned about political correctness.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. What I did find out before my investigation was shut down is that they have sponsored mosques in several of the largest cities in the world. London, Paris, Moscow, Berlin, Jerusalem, Dublin, Cairo, Toronto, Sydney, Wellington, Helsinki, Rome, Mexico City and Stockholm.”

  “What do you mean that these mosques are sponsored?”

  “The imam’s were handpicked and, from what I can tell, what is being taught in these mosques is in lock-step with Tareef’s beliefs. Each mosque receives funding from Old McDonald and each is the education center for the cities they are in. What I believe is that these sponsored mosques are where the governmental grant money for education gets funneled to. Problem is, the money gets sent to these mosques, but it doesn’t stay there.”

  “Flows up to Tareef?” Derek asked.

  “Not to him directly,” Juan corrected. “But it does flow somewhere. Like I said, my investigation ended abruptly the day I met you in Yonkers, but I have a suspicion that the center of the IUIEEO is in Jerusalem.”

  “In Israel?” Derek said. “That is very hard to believe. With their intelligence and paranoia, I can’t believe that any terror group would call any city in Israel home.”

  “Forced political correctness. The Israeli government would probably love to wipe radical Islam off the map but they can’t even fart in the direction of a suspected terrorist group without the world reacting negatively. They deal with Hamas every day, but only really strike out when the government either has enough of a case to defend a military response to the rest of the world, or their citizens demand action. Israel is in huge trouble and they know it. They will soon have to decide between being isolated from the world or being erased from the map.”

  As Juan sat back down, Derek stood, walked to the window and was about to pull open the curtains. Juan leaped to his feet and stayed Derek’s hand. “Last thing we want is for anyone to see two guys in the same hotel room. You need to assume that if we are not being watched yet, we will be very soon.”

  “Can I at least turn on the TV to see what’s going on in the world? This whole conversation is a bit overwhelming and, frankly, difficult to believe.”

  “You think that Fox News or CNN will be running a story about how the UN is behind the terror plots?”

  “No,” Derek said. “It occurred to me when you were talking that the world may think I’m dead, and I'm wondering how my parents will react. Just want to see if the news is saying anything about me, yet.”

  “Feel free to turn on any channel you want, but you won’t hear anything about you for a while. Hopefully, this whole case will be over before they start talking about the private investigator killed in the New York City bombing.”

  The TV in the hotel was set on CNN, and the first words they heard the announcer say was Derek’s name.

  “Again, we have learned the name of the guest who was registered in the room where the bomb was planted. Private Investigator Derek Cole from Columbus, Ohio. Police and FBI agents had no comments about Cole, but did say that Cole was not a known terrorist and wasn’t a suspect in any terror plot. Investigators have not told us whether or not anyone was in the hotel room when the explosion happened, so, at this point, we have no idea if anyone was killed or injured in the explosion.”

  “Damn,” Juan said. “Looks like I was wrong.”

  “Wrong?” Derek barked. “My parents watch this channel. I have to contact them and let them know that I’m safe.”

  “Sorry, but that can’t happen.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “FBI agents are probably pulling into your parents' driveway as we speak. They’ll have a ton of questions for your parents. Right now, your being dead is the best thing for you.”

  “But not for my parents.”

  Juan stood up and plowed his hands into his pockets. He lowered his head and faced Derek. “The FBI knows about your suicide attempt,” Juan said softly. “They may start assuming that you were emotionally damaged and being assigned to this case was too much for you to handle. They already know that Abdul called your name out right before he blew himself up and now that your hotel room was blown up, they’ll assume you pushed a little too hard in your investigation and pissed off the wrong people. I guarantee that Henderson and his team are retracing your every step. Who knows, your dying may be a good thing for this case.”

  “How so?” Derek asked.

  “Henderson knows who you met with, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Considering that you only met with two suspects and all that has happened since you started the case, they’ll start looking at Badr Irani hard. They may put the same pieces together that I did and figure out that since Badr’s mosque is one of the UN sponsored mosques, they should start sniffing around the IUIEEO.”

  “And in the meantime?” Derek asked.

  “You play dead. That means no more calls to your assistant in Columbus. What's her name, Victoria?"

  "Call her that and you'll regret it. Crown. Her name is Crown."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Aahill tried very hard to hide his fear and confusion. After all, wasn’t that man he just killed a Muslim like he was? And weren’t the two men who killed him also Muslims? And, as Aahill was led out through the back door of the warehouse and into a waiting car, he wondered if his decision to join this small group would result in him being tied to the same chair in that warehouse and having the same two men beat him until his brains spilled through his nose.

  As he sat in the backseat of the vanilla-looking Toyota Camry, Aahill wanted to ask a hundred questions to his three car-mates. He wanted to know who the person was that he just saw beaten to death. He wanted to know who the man sitting next to him in the backseat was, and why the man sitting next to him and the driver of the car, said nothing while they killed that man in the warehouse. He wanted to know who the well-dressed and well-spoken man who showed up was, demanded that he be left alone with the soon-to-be victim, then had left in a rush. He wanted to know why he was picked up at his small apartment in the Bronx so early in the morning, told to bring enough clothes for 3 days, then politely told to not ask any questions.

  He knew what was planned for him and believed that being chosen was a great honor. Badr Irani had taught him so many things; things that, without Badr, he would never have known. But now Badr was quietly sitting in the passenger's seat, almost intentionally avoiding any eye contact with him. Aahill trusted Badr and had grown to love him. Aahill knew what he was and he knew, even without the frequent reminders, where his life was heading.

  Aahill struggled through school. His grades were seldom above the Mendoza line, and his attempts at sports, encouraged and prodded by his parents, could only be described as feeble. He wasn’t as smart as others, and he knew it. He didn’t have the physical skills as most of his classmates, and he knew it. He lacked charm, good looks and the magnetic personality that the popular kids commanded, and they made sure he knew it. He was, if ever there was one as such, overlooked and was destined to be swallowed up by the American culture that rewarded only those gifted in ways that he would never be.

  That was his life until he met Badr Irani.

  It was foreign at first, walking into an Isl
amic mosque, seeing the people who, though resembled him in the color of their skin, appeared to be so different. Aahill wondered as he walked into the mosque that very first day, if those in attendance would somehow be able to tell that he was a Christian; an infidel. His parents raised him to believe that there was only one God, one religion and one way to eternal life. After he had accepted the invitation from the man handing out pamphlets on the street outside of his school, Aahill wondered if walking into a mosque would destroy his one chance at eternal life. If even the action of admitting that other beliefs existed caused a stain on his soul that no amount of praying could scrub out.

  He sat, quietly in the back of the mosque, and watched with curious interest as the men in the room chanted, bowed, then, after less than 10 minutes, stood, embraced one another and welcomed him so warmly. He wasn’t identified as being an infidel as he feared, instead, he was embraced and welcomed as if he belonged.

  “Welcome, young man,” one of the men said. “What is your name?” The man’s accent was strong, though Aahill could only place accents of those from Britain and the Southern US States.

  “My name is Kevin,” he answered. “Kevin Washington.”

  “And what brings you here to join us today, Kevin?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Kind of had nothing to do, and I got this paper from a man outside of my school last week.” He held the paper up for the man to see, but lowered his raised arm when he noticed that the man wasn’t interested in the pamphlet. “It said that are all welcome. Is it okay that I came here?”