“Lawrence, I don’t trust you anymore. Besides, you’re twice my age. It’s certainly been a great experience, but this ride is over. Goodbye!”
This part of Michelle Branson’s life was unknown to the Muslims For Justice. Had they been aware of her sexual history, they would have definitely looked at another candidate for Howard Lieberman.
Howard’s arrival in Washington, D.C. was uneventful. He easily cleared customs with his student visa and school paperwork. He shook his head in disbelief. The customs agents didn’t even ask me any questions, just looked at the passport, the paperwork from the University, the visa and then sent me through. They blindly accepted all the information.
Howard was met at the exit by a foreign student representative and taken to his dorm on campus.
Daniel Schonfeld, a.k.a. Rashad Ali Obeid
Daniel was accepted to the University of Maryland’s Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering masters program.
Faris had been with him at his home prior to traveling and was reviewing the information Daniel would need to operate in the United States. “Daniel, in Detroit, Michigan is a company called Multilingual Books and Records. The proprietor is Robert Peterson. The business is a Muslims For Justice front company, set up as a contact for the three cells to the Middle East in emergency situations. Included in your information package is the address and phone number. Never call unless it’s a life or death situation.”
“Does he know our names?”
“No. He has no idea who you are or where you reside. You and the others will be obtaining United States Post Office boxes to receive information and funding.”
“How will he know it’s one of us that is contacting him?”
“The three of you have the bogus names composed from the two most famous people surrounding the assassination of President Kennedy, Lee Harvey Oswald and Jack Ruby. You will be known as Lee Ruby III. The other two names are Lee Ruby Sr. and Lee Ruby Jr. Anything addressed to Robert Peterson with these names is a flag for him. If necessary, he will contact me by phone.”
The proprietor, Imad Bakhit, used the alias Robert Peterson. He was a Palestinian who had immigrated with his family to the United States in 1965 at the age of fourteen. In 1970 he received his citizenship and changed his name to Robert Peterson.
When questioned about the name change he simply stated, “I need a name that sounds American in order to have job opportunities in the United States.”
In 1973, after graduating from Wayne State University in Detroit with a degree in Business Management, he opened Multilingual Books and Records as a legitimate company with seed money from the Muslims For Justice. The Muslim population in the Detroit area made the business very profitable.
Daniel arrived at Baltimore-Washington International Airport on August 5, 1988, three weeks before his first classes. After clearing customs he caught a taxi to the school. He located the Cambridge Hall Dorm and met with the dorm administrator and was shown to his room.
The following Friday afternoon Daniel was relaxing on the bed when he heard a knock on the door. Opening it, he found a very tall and thin black man, dressed in jeans with a Skati and Kofia, the traditional African shirt and hat. The man entered the room dragging a well-worn suitcase. “I’m Abba Gana Brahim, from Cameroon, Africa.” He held out his hand to Daniel.
Daniel shook his hand. “I’m Daniel Schonfeld. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Schonfeld, is that Jewish?” Abba asked.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Abba laughed, “That’s interesting that the managers of the dorm have placed a Muslim to room with a Jew. Maybe they thought the peace process would begin here?”
For a moment Daniel didn’t know what to say. His mind was filled with the possibilities of being uncovered by having this man as a roommate. He finally answered, “I’m not much of a Jew. I don’t attend synagogue and I haven’t practiced my faith in years.”
“That’s a shame, because no matter what religion we practice, we must stay faithful forever,” replied Abba.
Daniel didn’t reply. You’ve no idea, my black friend, how faithful I am to my religion.
Abba then in an apologetic tone said, “I hope I don’t disturb you by performing my daily prayers, for I’ll do them in silence.”
A small smile came across Daniel’s face. “It’s no bother to me and I welcome your devotion.” I’ll be joining you in silence.
Daniel was the only member of the three cells for whom suitable mate hadn’t been identified. His situation was not deemed critical. Once Daniel was employed they would search out a woman for him to marry. It never occurred to the Muslims For Justice that the women they had chosen wouldn’t be willing participants in these schemes of marriages.
CHAPTER 17
CONNECTIONS, 1989
Jonah Meyerson
Jonah rose early. I have to leave the apartment before this woman Beverly arrives. She could disrupt my entire day and plans.
It was seven o’clock when he found the restaurant recommended by the office manager. The establishment offered breakfast dishes similar to what he had in England. Jonah ordered the scrambled eggs special. When delivered he asked, “What is this white porridge on my plate?”
The waitress replied in dripping Southern drawl. “That’s grits, Limey. You all better get used to it if you’re gonna be here any length of time.”
Jonah was a little surprised. I’ve never heard such a dialect. She called me Limey, a slang word for an Englishman. My British accent must be better than I thought. He tried tasting the foreign substance and decided he’d leave it well enough alone.
With classes only a couple of days away, Jonah spent his time seeking out Ronaldo Ceballo as instructed by the Muslims For Justice. Jonah soon found out that Ronaldo had a passion for soccer and was on the intramural team.
The following Monday afternoon Jonah went to soccer tryouts. He had played for as long as he could remember. An expert forward, he honed his skills under Abdullah Khamayseh at El Huda and was the leading scorer for Hadlow College. At the tryouts he awed the other players by scoring three goals in fifteen minutes of play.
Jonah sat on the bench toweling off the perspiration when he heard a voice from behind.
“Congratulations, you blew the defense away.”
Jonah turned to see who spoke to him. There stood a tall, handsome, muscular man, with dark hair and matching eyes. As Jonah stood up the man said, “I’m Ronaldo Ceballo. You’ll be a welcome addition to the team.”
“I’m Jonah Meyerson. Pleasure to meet you,” said Jonah as he shook Ronaldo’s hand.
“You have a distinct British accent. How long have you been here?”
“’I’ve been here just a few days and still getting acclimated.”
“Where are you from?”
“London all of my life,” lied Jonah.
“You never get use to the heat,” said Ronaldo. “I’m from Bogotá, Colombia and I’ve been here since my early teens. I still can’t take the heat and the humidity. I always look forward to the cooler months of December through March.”
“Colombia? I would think you’d be used to it.”
“That’s what everyone thinks, but Bogotá sits at two thousand six hundred meters. That’s almost eight thousand five hundred feet and the temperatures rarely get over seventy-five degrees. By the way, where are you staying?”
“Tanglewood.”
“That’s where I live. I’ll give you a lift back if you like.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Ronaldo pulled into the apartment parking lot in his new BMW 735i. “What are you doing for food tonight?”
“I’ll probably walk to the Sunset Diner where I have been eating most of my meals.”
“The food there will kill you. Come over to my apartment about seven and we’ll go into town for a decent meal.”
“Great, I’ll treat,” said Jonah while thinking, I can’t believe how well this is going.
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br /> Promptly at seven o’clock, Jonah was ringing the bell at Ronaldo’s apartment. Maria opened the door. Before him was an overweight young woman with drooping shoulders. She was anything but beautiful and her demeanor reflected her state of mind. Her hair was in a single braid that only exaggerated the roundness of her face. She was smoking a cigarette.
Jonah coughed. This is whom the brotherhood has chosen for me as a wife? She’s a fat cow with foul breath. How am I ever going to get close to her? Before the thought could leave his mind, Ronaldo was shaking his hand.
“Come in, I see you’ve met my sister Maria.”
Jonah entered and again coughed from the cigarette smoke.
Ronaldo was irate. “I told you to please keep your smoking in your room. I have a guest over and already you’ve insulted him.”
“I’m sorry,” said Maria, extinguishing the cigarette.
As Maria turned towards her room Jonah said, “Please don’t go on my account. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
Maria wasn’t use to being invited to any activity. “I’ve too much studying. Thanks anyway.”
“Nonsense,” said the scheming Jonah. “You have to eat sometime, and one hour is not going to make you fail a course.”
“Christ, Maria, you never do anything. It’s time to get the hell out of this apartment,” Ronaldo retorted.
“Okay,” said a reluctant Maria.
Ronaldo drove into Gainesville to a small Italian restaurant. As they were eating Jonah watched Maria intently out of the corner of his eye. Several times he noticed that Maria was looking at him. As soon as his eyes would met hers, she would turn away, blushing from the contact. Already she’s mine, but it’s going to take a lot of courage on my part to get close to this woman. The Muslims For Justice are testing my allegiance.
Ronaldo, after finishing his last slice of pizza, said, “Jonah, you don’t ever have to walk to class. Even if I’m not on the same schedule, just stop by and I’ll be glad to drive you.”
“I really don’t want to bother you.”
“It’s no bother; besides, anyone who could get my sister out of the apartment should be rewarded.”
“Excuse me,” said a red-faced Maria, “I need to use the bathroom.”
Returning to the apartment complex Jonah thought, I didn’t see Maria smoke a cigarette the entire time we were together.
Several weeks later Jonah was on the soccer field with Ronaldo.
“What are you going to do over the long Thanksgiving weekend?” Ronaldo asked.
“Study, study, and then more studying!”
Ronaldo cracked a smile. “You need a break. You’re at the head of your class and you need to spend the five days studying? Come with us to Delray Beach. I’ll introduce you to my father and show you around the area.”
“I really appreciate the invitation, but won’t your father mind?”
“My father lives alone in a huge house. He would enjoy the company.”
I’m to meet the father, a wonderful stroke of fortune. I must congratulate the Muslims For Justice on its diligence and selection. It’s all going as planned, except for Maria, who isn’t exactly what I expected.
Wednesday afternoon Ronaldo came by to pick up Jonah. Maria got out of the front seat to sit in the back.
She’s changed! She lost weight and her hair looks much better.
During the past ten weeks Jonah had seen very little of Maria. When he came to the apartment, she would always be in her room, door ajar, but never completely open.
Maria always watched Jonah. She wrote in her diary:
I’ve never thought about a man before. He fascinates me but never gives me a second glance. I need to do something about how I look.
After a hundred miles of driving the Florida Turnpike they stopped at a rest area. After using the bathrooms all three were standing waiting to buy coffee when Ronaldo said, “Jonah, have you noticed Maria hasn’t smoked one cigarette? She quit maybe two days after we went for pizza. You must have made some impression on her!”
Maria turned away and Jonah didn’t want to add to her obvious embarrassment.
“I’m going to find a magazine to read,” said Jonah as he left. It’s getting more interesting all the time. Let’s see where this will lead.
Back on the turnpike Ronaldo would easily run the BMW up to one hundred ten miles per hour on the long straightaway. In record time they were exiting at Atlantic Avenue in Delray Beach. He drove west to a small dirt road and turned left. A quarter of a mile in, a large sign stated.
YOU ARE ENTERING THE PRIVATE LANDS OF
CEBALLO LANDSCAPING CORPORATION
NO TRESPASSING ALLOWED
There were several different varieties of ornamental plants interlaced with rows of Sabal, Queen and Coconut Palm trees.
They arrived at a gated entrance between two massive stone pillars. Ronaldo hit the button of the remote and they entered the grounds of Luis César Bonilla Ceballo’s estate.
The driveway was finished with brick pavers woven between two well-groomed lakes up to a large Mediterranean style home with a six-car attached garage.
“The house is magnificent.” Jonah viewed the structure and design. “It must be two thousand meters - almost the size of a small hotel.”
“Close,” Ronaldo remarked. “Actually there’s twenty thousand square feet of living space and the garage another four thousand.”
They were just setting foot on the front steps when a distinguished looking gentleman with gray hair came bursting through the front door. “Ronaldo, Maria, it’s good to have you home. It’s too quiet for me in this large home, to be here alone.”
Both Ronaldo and Maria gave each other a knowing smile before hugging their dad in a warm embrace. Luis César Bonilla Ceballo was no more alone than a packed New York City subway on Friday night rush hour.
Luis had never remarried after his wife’s death seventeen years ago, but he always had a lady or two on his arm.
“Dad, where’s Andrea?” asked Ronaldo.
Andrea was the latest woman in Luis’s life and she had lasted six months, a record for a man whose appetite for different women seemed to be excessive.
“I wanted no companions this weekend, just my family. The last thing I need is some whining Chica nagging me.”
Ronaldo laughing turned to Jonah, “Dad, this is my friend Jonah.”
“I’ve heard great things about you from Ronaldo. In fact, I’ve heard wonderful things about you from Maria, also.”
“Excuse me,” the red-faced Maria said as she headed for the door.
“Tell me, Jonah, what are your goals after college?”
“I’m probably going to pursue a career as a landscape architect.”
“Well, my son,” Luis put his arm around Jonah’s shoulders. “You’re in the right place at the right time. Come, let me show you.”
Luis César led Jonah through the front door. Jonah couldn’t believe his eyes. Even in the finest hotels he hadn’t seen the architectural splendor that the Ceballo home exhibited. The entrance opened to a vast atrium with two semi-spiraling staircases leading to the second floor. The finish work was superb with true plaster crown moldings accented with gold leaf. The floors were made of Calacata Vagli Rosato, an Italian marble, inlaid and accented with white India granite. Everything in the home was of first quality, a trademark of a man who demanded nothing less from his products and workers.
“Come with me into the library,” said Luis César. The library and office was a twenty-by-twenty-foot room finished in Brazilian Cherry. On the planning table laid open a blueprint.
“Let me show you something interesting,” said Luis. “I just received a blueprint last week from a group of developers. This is going to be the premier residential area in Boca Raton, Florida, and construction will start in spring of ’91. It’s called the Beekman Estates and will have over fifteen hundred homes, an eighteen hole PGA-certified golf course, a five hundred thousand square foot clubhou
se with restaurants, auditorium and fitness center. You name it and they’ve planned for it. Every status- seeking Jew in New York City will be lining up to be first in this country club.”
Realizing what he just said, “No offense Jonah, but it’s just the truth.”
“I didn’t even think about it, Luis. Sometimes I’m embarrassed by my heritage.” I’m more offended by the Jews, than you could ever imagine.
Bashir had described the American Jew as spoiled, complaining and arrogant. They never could be inconvenienced for their life would be filled with anxiety.
Jonah had been a little surprised by the picture painted by Bashir. The profile was not flattering and was in stark contrast to those he had met in Israel who had emigrated from impoverished countries in Europe, Africa and Russia. When he lived with the Keinan’s, he didn’t experience what Bashir had described. He should have felt guilt about the circumstances and the taking of Ruth Keinan’s life, but with the thoughts of his parents’ death and the mission he had no emotion.
Jonah was jolted from his thoughts by Luis César. “When your spring term ends, would you consider working for me this summer?”
Did I hear right? Was I just offered a job by Luis César, one of the largest landscape companies in Florida? “Sir, you don’t know anything about me.”
“That’s not true. When Ronaldo told me about you, I had your school records checked at Hadlow College. I understand from Ronaldo that your grades at the University of Florida are excellent. As a friend of Ronaldo and Maria, what more do I need to know?”
“I thank you for the offer. It would certainly be an honor to work for you,” said Jonah. I also thank Allāh, the Muslims For Justice and my Uncle Ahman for making this all possible.
The previous year had seen the formation of Hamas, Harakat al-Muqawama al-Islamiyya, a radical Islamic Resistance Movement that called for the destruction of Israel.
In 1988, Hamas stated that all territory occupied by Israel was an indisputable Islamic religious legacy which could never be surrendered to non-Muslims. Hamas declared a Jihad to regain control of the land that formed the Israel state, and was the religious obligation of every Muslim. It refused to recognize Israel as an independent state.
The Third Cell Page 16