Daniel was completely surprised weeks later when Melville announced, “I have a buyer and soon I’ll be spending more time at Lake Windermere.”
Melville had a modest cottage in the town of Bowness-on-Windermere where he would vacation every summer to escape the heat and noise of London.
“Son, you must come and visit me. The fishing is spectacular.” Then as an afterthought he added, “The new owner will be here at two o’clock.”
That afternoon, Melville brought Faris Kamel Shurrab to meet Daniel. “This is the new owner and he’ll be taking possession in two weeks.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Faris held out his hand. “I’ve heard great things about you from Melville. I hope you will stay after I take over the business. I have to travel quite a bit and having you here would help me immensely.”
“Be my pleasure, Sir,” answered a grateful Daniel.
Faris Kamel Shurrab
Faris graduated from Beirut Arab Universities, Faculty of Commerce, with a degree in accounting. He immigrated to the United Kingdom in 1976, setting up a private accounting business. As his business grew he hired additional personnel and had little to do with the daily operations of his firm except as an overseer. This allowed him to pursue his true agenda with the Muslims For Justice and he was chosen as the leader to bring about the events that would affect Nasih, Abdul-Aziz and Rashad.
Howard Lieberman
Howard Lieberman had been luckier than Jonah Meyerson and Daniel Schonfeld. Though his mother had died during childbirth and the father unknown, his widowed grandmother had taken him in. He and his grandmother was all that was left. The rest of the family had been annihilated in the Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp, South of Hamburg near the town of Bergen.
His grandmother Mair had escaped with her daughter Gretchen who was three years old at the time, to Amsterdam by giving a large portion of her diamond jewelry to a fishing captain at the port city of Emden. It was 1937, and soon after the German Government started the forced sale of all Jewish businesses in Germany, she decided to leave. Many family members told her she was overreacting, but her instincts most likely saved her and her daughter from certain death. With passage to England secured in early 1938, she arrived in Newbury Park and bought a small shop with an apartment overhead with the remaining diamond jewelry, opening a seamstress business. It wasn’t the lifestyle she was use to in Germany, but she survived World War II in spite of the bombing and V-1 and V-2 attacks on London.
Gretchen was a shy girl whose overly protective mother was always keeping an eye on her. In October of 1965, Gretchen had convinced her mother that it was time she took a vacation on her own since she was thirty-one years old. She flew to the Greek Isle of Hydra, where she stayed in a small hotel that was frequented by the many artists who found the constant sunshine and beauty of the surrounding sea an inspiration to create. One such handsome artist Michael Powell took a liking to Gretchen and by the end of the week she had been in her first affair.
Back in England it was soon apparent to Gretchen that she was pregnant. By the time she was in her fifth month and it was becoming harder to disguise her pregnancy. She finally told her mother and endured the daily unrelenting lectures from her mother about her indiscretion. Gretchen gave birth on Saturday, June 5, 1966. Unknown to her and the doctors she had a condition called Immune Thrombocytopenic Purpura, causing excessive bleeding during childbirth and she passed away after the delivery. Howard’s grandmother raised him, never revealing the truth about his mother, telling him his parents had both died in an automobile accident.
Howard Lieberman posed a challenge to the Muslims For Justice. Although he was an orphan, he still lived with his grandmother in a community that had a large Jewish population and three synagogues. He wasn’t active in any of them. Soon after he graduated from Caterham High School in 1982, his grandmother passed away.
After the death of Howard’s grandmother he moved to Havering, known for its low unemployment rate and many businesses. He found a position of stock boy for a Retail Chemist and a rooming house where he could live.
Within a month of being employed, the store hired another young man to work with Howard stocking shelves. His name was Wael Qassem and he claimed his parents had emigrated from Egypt and had settled in Havering. Howard thought it a little unusual that Arabs would locate in Havering, since its population was almost exclusively conservative whites, but didn’t give it much thought. Wael and Howard struck up a friendship and would hang out after work and sometimes frequent the discos on Friday and Saturday nights.
Wael Qassem
Wael had been in London for several months. His parents still lived in Egypt where he had embraced the teaching of the Muslims For Justice at the age of fifteen. By the time he was twenty years old, he was involved in the organizing of Hamas and the planning of terrorist attacks on Israel from within Palestinian refugee camps. Wael was only twenty-two years old when he was given the assignment to work with Faris Kamel Shurrab and the Palestinian teens.
Nasih was once again badgering his aunt Johara to allow him to drive her 1980 Hillman Avenger pleading, “I’ve been driving since I was eleven, including some Uncle Ahman’s construction machinery.”
Johara frowned. “But driving on the left-side of the road takes some skill and many foreigners are killed each year by forgetting where they are.”
Nasih continued, “If I don’t start sometime, I’ll never learn.”
Johara, worn down by the same conversation over the past week, reluctantly said, “Tomorrow is Sunday and there will be less traffic in the early morning. We can begin then.”
Nasih was pleased. It’s only three weeks from the scheduled rendezvous with my Jewish identity. I have to put things in place rapidly.
Nasih was keenly aware of the agent tailing him wherever he went. He picked his destinations with care, always going to a tourist location.
Agent Stevens was reviewing the last telephone conversation that had been received by the agent monitoring the calls. He muttered, “Another damn museum.” Why the hell is Benjamin Werner so obsessed with this kid? He’s nothing but an art and history aficionado.
Stevens walked into a bathroom once to observe their habits and found all three washed their hands for almost two minutes after using the toilet. What do they think they’re going to do next, perform surgery?
Abraham also observed that whenever the three took food they always held the utensils and cups with a napkin. What kind of upbringing would make them so fastidious?
A couple of times when Nasih had handled a glass bottle of soda, Abraham would retrieve it, sending it in for prints. The lab report came back negative.
“No prints, how can that be?” He grumbled.
Nasih entered the toilet stall and removed adhesive plastic patches from his pocket, placing them on his fingertips. These will not stay on too long, just enough to finish my meal. He then left to meet with Abdul-Aziz and Rashad for lunch.
After eating, he would return to a stall and flush them away. This is a game of human chess and I relish in the challenge of outwitting the enemy.
CHAPTER 13
THE PHOENIX HAS RISEN, 1983
The city of Bath, England is known for its three hot springs and the Roman Baths that date back to 45 A.D. Noted as a major historical site in England, tourists flock to the city every year. Tourism was the principal income.
The surrounding hills and countryside are dotted with farms and winding roads. The topography and historical setting were ideal for implementing the Muslims For Justice plans.
The Invitations
At Masjid ibn Taymeeyah, Faris was discussing the plan with Bashir and Wael. “You’ll invite your Jewish friends to the farm at Ashwicke, for the following Saturday. Make sure you make the trip sound very inviting.”
“What if they refuse to go?” asked Wael.
“I don’t anticipate that to be a problem. These men are all loners and the only true friends they have are the t
hree of us.”
Bashir shook his head. “I don’t know about that. What do we do if they refuse?’
“Call me,” answered Faris. “I have alternate arrangements set up with the Muslims For Justice in London. I guarantee you they will be going to the Ashwicke farm alive or dead.”
The three men shook hands, and left the mosque to prepare for the Saturday rendezvous.
Bashir Moussa and Jonah Meyerson were moving a large trailer of luggage across the tarmac at Heathrow when Bashir asked, “How would you like to take a long weekend off and join me and my uncle at his farm in Ashwicke near the city of Bath? He has three large ponds filled with fish and we can also go into the city to see the sights.”
Jonah was already hooked. “How do we get to the farm?”
“We’ll take the train from London. Meet me Saturday morning at the Reading Station at nine o’clock. My uncle will meet us; he has a car.”
“Thanks. I’ll be there.”
It was late on Monday evening and the men were still at the Lake and Associates office.
Faris Kamel Shurrab interrupted Daniel Schonfeld, as he was finishing up for the day. “Daniel, you’ve been working very hard here and I want to offer you a chance to get away. I have a farm near Bath with good fishing and I’ve invited some friends to join me. Come spend the weekend and have a really enjoyable time. If you would like we can leave on Saturday morning.”
“Thanks Faris, that’s bloody fine of you to ask me,” Daniel replied. Faris is a great boss, totally unexpected from what I had heard about businessmen from the Middle East.
At the Retail Chemist store, Wael and Howard were taking cases from the delivery truck to the storage room.
Wael, putting down the last carton, turned to Howard. “I need some time away. I’m going to my uncle’s farm near Bath this coming weekend. You should join me.”
“Won’t your uncle be upset if you bring a stranger?”
“No, I’ve done it before. He couldn’t care less. We’ve always had a large group over.”
Howard had never traveled outside of London and was very curious about the rest of England. “How are we to get to Bath? Take the train?”
“No, I’ll borrow my friend’s car and meet you at the store around ten on Saturday morning,” answered Wael.
“Great. I’m looking forward to it.”
The Scheme
Johara entered the flat after work and tossed her purse on the table. She called out, “Nasih.”
“We’re in the bedroom.”
As Johara entered, Nasih was enthusiastically discussing the trip to Bath with Abdul-Aziz and Rashad. “We’re making the final plans for the weekend trip.”
Johara walk over and handed Nasih a sealed envelope. “This was given to me today by my area chief, Nizar Eida. Do you know him?”
“I only know him by name. I was told by others he’s an expert on Bath and the Roman Ruins and he would give me some information.” Nasih opened and read aloud the first line. “In Bath awaits a wonderful experience and here are the directions.” Nasih purposely skipped the rest of the contents. He looked up, “Isn’t his is great, Aunt Johara. I can bring along Abdul-Aziz and Rashad this weekend, for Mr. Eida has provided free rooms at the Newberry Bed and Breakfast for the three of us. May I use your car for this wonderful opportunity?” He rambled on so fast that Johara had little time to interject.
“Nasih, it’s almost a sixty kilometer drive to Bath. I’m not so sure of this.”
“Don’t fear, Aunt Johara. I’ll be with my friends and we’ll be very careful. You’ve seen me drive around the City of London in the most terrible of conditions and I did perfectly well, even better than you.”
Johara was always nervous in the traffic and never would cut into a lane unless it was guaranteed safe, regardless of the rows of honking autos behind her. “Okay, you may go — but I want you to call me when you arrive and every four hours after that.”
Nasih stood and hugged her. “I thank you, Aunt Johara.”
The Mossad
Abraham Stevens’s weekly reports to Benjamin Werner contained almost identical surveillance. Outside of Nasih’s visit to the Masjid ibn Taymeeyah Mosque, the three teenagers were no more than avid tourists, trying to take in as much as possible. Only this week, according to the taped phone conversations, there was an additional activity. Nasih was planning to drive his aunt’s Hillman Avenger to Bath. Maybe this is how he’s going to make a rendezvous? Benjamin thought as he read.
Benjamin called in Agent Mark Heckman. “Did you see this report about the teenagers going to Bath for the weekend?”
Mark nodded. “Yes.”
“And what conclusion have you drawn?”
Mark was fed up with the badgering he had taken for the past few weeks over the teenagers. “I think he and his friends are nothing more than curious adolescents who are into history and you’re driving us nuts!”
Benjamin was surprised by the remark. Not many people stood up to him or told him what they thought. He looked Mark in the eye as he leaned back in his chair. “Mark, maybe you’re right and I’m caught up with an old foe’s nephew, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Tell Abraham to tail this teen and his friends even if he has to wipe their asses!”
As Mark left the room he sarcastically remarked, “Aye, aye, Captain.”
Benjamin didn’t hear him; he was too engrossed in figuring out what the hell was going on in Bath.
Mark called agent Stevens. “Abraham, its Mark Heckman.”
“Good to talk to you again, Mark. What’s going down?”
“Benjamin thinks the teens are to make contact with persons unknown. He wants you to follow their every move.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. I have to spend the weekend following a bunch of wet-nosed teens?”
“Benjamin wants diligent surveillance on Nasih Rahman especially, since he’ll be driving a car.”
“I think the man’s crazy,” said Abraham.
“I can’t say, but you know he’s been right more often than wrong in these cases.”
Stevens called two other agents and told them of Benjamin’s demand. They would each tail the boys on foot in London while he kept vigilance on Johara’s Hillman Avenger.
Looks like the trip is on and I’m going to be occupied this weekend. My wife won’t be too pleased. He continued to read the transcripts. Here we go again on another history lesson. God, I wish Benjamin would give up this fiasco.
The Fox and the Hound
Abraham Stevens was sitting in his pride and joy, a restored 1961 Harrington Alpine, of which only one hundred ten were produced. If he had to drive all the way to Bath, he would at least enjoy his time there by putting the car through its paces on the back country roads known for their hairpin turns.
Running a cloth over the dashboard, Abraham watched two teenagers ring the bell at 120 Chester Square.
“8:07 A.M. Two teens entered the premise,” he recorded on his tape machine.
Twenty minutes later he watched the three teens leave the flat and pile into a four door two-tone white and tan Hillman Avenger.
“8:27 A.M. All three suspects have entered the Hillman Avenger and are leaving.”
As they sped off, Abraham roared out of the parking space. He was able to follow within three car lengths, easily keeping up with the Hillman. They turned on Cromwell Road heading west.
Abraham picked up the tape recorder and noted the route. “They’re heading for the M4 motorway, the main highway between London and Bath.”
Cromwell Road eventually became Talgarth Road and then the Great Western Road, an area with light industrial buildings. Abraham was keeping a safe distance. Soon they’ll be on the M4 and my chore of keeping up with them will be much easier. He turned off the tape recorder and twisted the dial of the AM radio to get some music.
All at once the Hillman Avenger turned onto Devonshire Road.
Abraham was perplexed. Where in the hell are they going? I
better not follow too close.
The car made a left on Fraser Street, pulling up in front of a small grocery store. Abraham keeping a safe distance picked up his tape machine.
“8:55 A.M. Vehicle stopped on Fraser Street. Two teens entered grocery store.”
“9:01 A.M. The two have returned. It looks like they have bags of groceries.”
Let’s get on with it, Abraham thought as he watched the young men climb back into the car.
The vehicle sped off. Reaching the end of Fraser, they turned left.
Abraham followed, but it was apparent as he drove down the street that it was a dead end. They ’ve made a mistake and are backing into a driveway to turn around. How stupid was I to be so close! They’re certain to spot my vehicle and I must do something fast.
Quickly Abraham turned into a long driveway, waiting for the vehicle to pass by in his rear view mirror. Seeing the Hillman speed by, he backed out into the street. Suddenly Abraham felt the impact of a delivery truck as it hit the little Alpine, sending it crashing into the brick building across the street.
Dazed and disoriented, Abraham heard a voice with a distinct Jamaican accent ask, “Hey man, you alright?”
As Nasih turned right on Great Western Road, he couldn’t help smiling. Even Abdul- Aziz and Rashad didn’t know we were under surveillance.
Nasih had followed the instructions in the envelope his aunt had given him from the Syrian embassy perfectly. The fox has outsmarted the hound, he thought as they reached the beginning of the M4 highway.
The Party
The three young Jewish men were converging on the farm located in the township of Ashwicke, in separate vehicles and timetables. As they arrived they were warmly greeted by ‘friends of the family’ and brought inside.
The farm was located on a high ridge that overlooked the city of Bath and was located far enough away from its neighbors. The house was old with two barns on a property that covered one-and-a-half hectares. There was a small herd of sheep in one of the fields. Separated from them were several Limousin cattle raised for their beef. Adjacent to the beef cattle in another field were three Guernsey milking cows. Mounds of haystacks were scattered around in the surrounding fields. The grounds were meticulously kept by two caretakers who were from the local area. A Bath real estate firm had been hired to maintain the farm and employ the help. The farm was listed as the property of the Syrian embassy and the Muslims For Justice never revealed that they were the true owners. The caretakers had been given the weekend off. The next farmhouse was over a kilometer away.
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