The Third Cell

by Anthony D'Egidio

  “What if the boat is stopped and searched?”

  “The electrically powered magnets can be turned off, releasing the container. A special clip attached to a large plug pulls it open and water will flood the container. It drops to the bottom of the ocean.”

  The sergeant grinned. “It is so simple. But what if we’re boarded and they examine the bilges where this is installed. Won’t this device raise questions?”

  “Take a look at the print and read the inscription on the magnets.”

  “Marine Magnetics Barnacle’s Inhibitor,” read the sergeant out loud. “That’s a brilliant idea.”

  “Yes,” said Jonah. “Anyone looking at the device will think it’s a method for preventing marine growth.”

  “How many rounds are we bringing in?”

  “About a million.”

  “A million rounds? How are we able to get our hands on that much without being detected?”

  Jonah explained, “At the height of fighting in Bosnia during the ‘95 Operation Deliberate Force, four hundred United Nations Peacekeepers were seized by the Bosnian Serb Army and their weapons cache raided. The ammunition surfaced on the black market the following year and the Muslims For Justice bought it all.”

  “Are we bringing the entire shipment in at one time?”

  “No. The containers are being fabricated at the port of Oran, Algeria will hold only one hundred thousand rounds. We’ll have to make ten separate rendezvous with the Majestic and its sister-ship the El Malah.”

  “What problems do you foresee?” asked the sergeant.

  “I see two challenges,” said Jonah as he sat down at his desk. “One, we can only travel at a max speed of five to six knots. But with the fishing lines out, it will appear we’re trolling for fish. The second is coming into the Boca Inlet. The shallow depth during low tide could make the container hit bottom and become dislodged. We can only arrive during high tide.”

  “Do you think someone can see the container under the ship from the shore?”

  “I doubt it,” said Jonah rubbing his chin. “It’s located right under the keel to prevent detection.”

  “How soon do you need this installed?”

  “You and I are going to make the first pickup on January thirteenth, weather permitting.”

  “What about Howard and Daniel?”

  “It’s way too dangerous for all of us to be aboard. If something happens, they will still be able to carry out the mission.”

  The following week Jonah and Howard were meeting with Sergeant Navarro. Howard pulled a sheet out from his desk. “Sarge, I want to review with you and Jonah all of the electronic equipment we have purchased. I was fortunate enough to have a Finland electronics distributor get me one hundred fifty VHF transceivers with digital encryption.”

  “Any reason for such high-tech communications?” asked the Sergeant.

  Howard picked up one of the units. “These transmitters communicate on a military channel that’s outside of the normal frequencies used by commercial or law enforcement agencies. With these radios distributed to the operatives, we can keep in constant contact without detection.”

  Howard placed the transmitter down and pulled a base police scanner out of a box. “I have ten of these to monitor all law enforcement communications. When the time comes we’ll distribute them to all the key areas including the nuclear reactor sites.”

  Jonah picked up the unit to inspect it. “Looks like you’ve got all of the communications covered.”

  Howard acknowledged, “I don’t like surprises, but I love giving them.” Howard walked over to the open filing cabinet drawer. “This is a Russian Military night vision goggle with helmet. It’s amazing what you can get when you’re providing government security.”

  The three cells were now established and ready to implement the mission. They had presented themselves as legitimate Jewish businessman operating legal companies. Jonah Meyerson a.k.a. Nasih Mahmoud Rahman had created the infrastructure for moving and housing men, equipment and explosives. Daniel Schonfeld a.k.a. Rashad Ali Obeid had the knowledge and ability to formulate and detonate explosive devices. Howard Lieberman a.k.a. Abdul-Aziz al Hummos was in control of security at the predominately Jewish Beekman Estates and the two FEU nuclear reactor sites that were located within a population of almost nine million people with real estate values of over eight hundred billion dollars.

  CHAPTER 22

  THE MISSION, 2001

  Bobby Hillman, a MetroMax South guard, had just completed his appointed rounds at two o’clock in the morning when the museum went dark. What another power outage?

  Bobby picked up the phone to call the central monitoring station. It’s dead.

  Two men grabbed Bobby from behind as he rose to his feet. He struggled to get loose.

  “Get the cloth over him. He’s stronger than I thought,” shouted one of the intruders.

  A piece of chloroform-soaked cloth was forced over Bobby’s face as he was wrestled to the floor. It took several minutes of struggling, before Bobby was subdued.

  “Damn, I thought he’d never drop,” said the second man. “Muzzle and tie him up. Let’s get going.”

  The sound of the drill bit cutting into the metal locks penetrated the silence of the museum.

  One man checked each of the display cases. “Forget this one. It’s only got muskets.”

  As soon as the lock was breached a third man entered the room and grabbed the weapons, carrying them to a waiting van.

  The guard for the morning shift arrived at 6:50 A.M. and knocked on the door. “Come on Bobby, I need to take a piss.”

  There was no response and the guard tried the door. It’s locked. The guard trudged to the front entrance. He held the buzzer in but there was still no response. What the hell is going on?

  MetroMax South guards were not allowed to have keys to the museum. The guard removed the radio from his belt, engaging the talk button. “Sarge, I can’t get into the museum and Bobby’s not answering. What do you want me to do?”

  The radio crackled back. “I’m only twenty minutes away. I’ll be right there.”

  Sergeant Navarro, the area superintendent, arrived at 7:22 A.M. Opening the door, he stepped inside. “We’ve been hit,” shouted the sergeant. “See if you can find Bobby.”

  Within seconds of searching the guard shouted, “He’s over here tied up on the floor. He doesn’t look so good.” Removing the duct tape from Bobby’s mouth the guard asked, “You okay?”

  Bobby shook his head no.

  Sergeant Navarro came over to the fallen man. “Call 911. We need an ambulance and the police.”

  At 7:25 A.M. the phone rang in the Lieberman residence and Michelle answered.

  “Michelle, its Sergeant Navarro and the museum has been burglarized.”

  “Howard, you need to take the phone. There’s been a robbery at the museum,” shouted a distressed Michelle.

  Howard was in the bathroom. Perfect. By now the weapons are in a secured, air-conditioned building at Cooper Farms.

  Sergeant Navarro and the morning guard stayed with Bobby until emergency medical technicians arrived. Two local Delray Beach patrol cars had also responded.

  Sergeant Navarro walked the museum with the officers, documenting the equipment taken. Over every display case was a plaque describing the weapons inside that were now missing.

  As the police officers completed inspecting all of the cases Sergeant Navarro said, “It looks like they took the semi-automatic weapons and the four 7.62mm machine guns. They left behind the more valuable Revolutionary War muskets.”

  The officer who was making out the list of weapons said, “I don’t think they were looking to make money off of this heist. It looks like they want to start a war. We’ll have to call the ATF in on this one.”

  Monday, March 5, 2001: A team of agents from the ATF swarmed on the museum. An agent interviewed Howard Lieberman. “You don’t carry insurance?”

  “With my own security forc
e I didn’t think it was necessary, especially since the museum was located in a heavily populated area.”

  The agent continued to press. “We also noticed you hadn’t installed a local alarm, only a silent one to the remote monitoring station.”

  “I had a work order into my alarm company, but they didn’t have the device in stock and had to special order it. Otherwise it would have been in place.”

  “Why did you have so many semi-automatic weapons and the four mini-guns?” asked the agent.

  “It’s what the public wanted and was our biggest draw. The videos showing the mini-guns in action were a big hit. Let me tell you my theory,” said Howard. “There are major drug wars going on with gangs in Miami. What a perfect way to get all the weapons you need in one place. Our publicity may have done us in.”

  The agent looked up from the notes he was taking. “That’s pretty much the conclusion the team is coming up with. We’re going to put out a nationwide alert. They’ll probably show up soon in some gang fight.”

  Howard shook the agent’s hand. “Thank you for all your effort. Please call my office if you locate any of the firearms.” Howard departed gloating. I don’t expect I’ll be hearing from them again.

  The first paragraph of the ATF report submitted to the Bureau Chief in Washington summed up the investigation.

  Professional heist, possibly gang related. There were no fingerprints, no footprints, no tire imprints, nor could the chloroform-impregnated cloth be found. Owner is self-insured and has taken a financial loss.

  Cooper Farms

  It was late March when Howard arrived at Jonah’s home to be greeted at the door by Maria. “Good to see you, Howard. Where’s Michelle?”

  “She stayed in Washington this weekend. Government meeting on Monday and she didn’t want to fly home just for one day.”

  “I understand you and Jonah are going to the boat show today.”

  Howard paused. “That’s right. Jonah wants to look at a bigger boat.” Why didn’t Jonah tell me he was going to use the boat show as an excuse?

  Jonah came down the stairs. “Howard, you ready to go?”

  “Sure, let’s get started. Good seeing you again, Maria.”

  The men got into Howard’s SUV and left.

  “Maria thinks we’re going to the boat show,” said Howard. “She completely caught me off guard and I had to come up with you buying a bigger boat.”

  “Sorry,” said Jonah. “It was a last-minute excuse.”

  Howard drove into the entrance of Cooper Farms and over to the isolated equipment garages.

  The two men exited and walked pass the operative guarding the garage. Opening the door just enough to slide through they went to the duplicate remote broadcasting vehicle.

  Jonah spoke to one of the men working on the vehicle. “What’s to be installed next?”

  “Sir, all we need is a 15 kW generator and the mast. We’ve copied the latest logos and markings that WAVW Channel 13 is using.”

  As Howard and Jonah walked inside the vehicle, Howard pointed to the electrical racks. “The interior layout is almost identical in every way. Great pains were taken to procure the exact electrical rack front panels and then use them as a dummy façade. Behind the fake panels is enough space for four people to be stowed standing upright without detection.”

  “Looks great, Howard. I doubt anyone can tell the difference between our vehicle and the original.”

  Washington, D.C.

  Special agent Neil Packston of the FBI D.C. field office contacted Howard Lieberman on May 15, 2001. “Howard, I want MetroMax to know we’ve received news of a threat assessment involving al-Qaeda attacking lower Manhattan.”

  “How come I haven’t heard this through official channels?” asked Howard. “What about other locations?”

  “The alert just went out. Anytime we receive any creditable information, we always raise security in the D.C. area,” replied the agent.

  Howard, after hanging up with the agent, quickly called Daniel. “Please have one of your exterminators come and fumigate my offices.”

  Daniel hung up the phone. We’re going to have an emergency meeting and the premises need an electronic sweep for listening devices. Daniel called Sergeant Navarro. “We need an exterminator at the MetroMax South offices immediately. I’ll be heading there soon.”

  Jonah arrived to meet Howard and Daniel in the parking lot. “Howard, what is so important?”

  Howard shook his head in frustration. “The FBI and CIA have been alerted to a threat by al-Qaeda on lower Manhattan. An FBI special agent who is very reliable gave me the information this morning. I don’t think this is a diversion to expose our mission, but we must be diligent in every way.”

  Jonah was cautious. “I don’t see how a threat assessment in Manhattan would affect us, but let’s monitor the situation and make adjustments as necessary.”

  July 6, 2001: Howard called another emergency meeting. “I understand that yesterday John Ashcroft was warned by the CIA that a significant threat is imminent and preparations for multiple attacks are in the late stages or already complete. The CIA said that little additional warning might be expected.”

  Jonah paced the floor. “What I don’t understand is why this alert has not been made public, or announced to the security agencies like MetroMax.”

  “I can’t tell you, Jonah,” said Howard. “If I didn’t have my contacts within the FBI, I wouldn’t have a clue to what is going on. My dilemma is by not contacting Florida Electric Utilities management and alerting them of this threat, MetroMax South could be found negligent in performance and fired. This would effectively kill the mission and all this time and effort would be wasted.”

  Jonah shook his head in disbelief. “It’s incomprehensible that a nationwide alert would not have been issued. I can’t figure out if this is a ruse to expose us or it’s for real. I agree with you, Howard. You must go forward to FEU management and alert them. We can’t afford to lose our most valuable asset and bargaining tool. It looks like everything is on hold until further notice. Let’s meet daily to assess the situation and see if we’re exposed.”

  July 26, 2001: Daniel and Jonah had just sat down in Howard’s office. Howard’s fist slammed down on the desk making both men jump.

  “John Ashcroft is flying a private jet to all government meetings due to a creditable threat to commercial aircraft. He also denied knowing anything about a terrorist threat, which we know is not true. Either the man is a complete fool or there’s some kind of hidden agenda. I know from my sources that he has been briefed daily about the threats and even remarked that he didn’t want to hear about this anymore. Not only that, no commercial airlines, airports, or airport security personnel have been alerted. If this threat were true, then I would have expected the government to alert someone, anyone!”

  Daniel was nervously playing with the pencil and scribbling notes. “I’m not happy we’re even meeting. If we’re being targeted they could pick us up at any moment. I know that Sergeant Navarro made a double sweep on all the offices, but I’m still very concerned.”

  “I have to agree with Daniel,” said Jonah. “It makes me suspicious that we’re being set up. I think we should just keep everything under wraps and wait. We must be meticulous in everything we do and not raise suspicion.” We each have the VHF transceivers installed in our offices. We’ll use these for communication instead of meeting personally. Until we actually know what’s going on, we’ll have as little contact as possible.”

  “I’ll send an emergency communiqué to Multilingual Books and Records and see if they heard anything. Our best information should come out of the Middle East if something is going to happen,” said Howard.

  Florida Electric Utilities

  Two days later Howard was at FEU corporate headquarters in West Palm Beach, Florida.

  Wayne Anderson came out of his office to greet him and joked, “Howard, this is unexpected. Hope you’re not here to ask for more money. It’s just
not gonna happen.”

  “Wayne, what I’m going to tell you is more important than money.”

  The security chief’s demeanor changed. “Come into my office and shut the door. What’s going on?”

  Howard explained the threat assessment in detail.

  “Are you sure about this, Howard? We haven’t heard anything.”

  “I’m telling you, my sources are top-rate in both the FBI and CIA. I think we should increase the guards for at least six months at both sites.”

  “I’ll meet with my management today about the increased need for security and we’ll let you know by tomorrow.”

  The next day Howard’s secretary buzzed him as he sat in the office. “Wayne Anderson from FEU on line one.”

  Howard picked up the phone. “Yes Wayne, what was management’s reaction?”

  “I convinced them to authorize additional guards. But at the end of six months, if nothing happens, they’re going to be asking a lot of questions.”

  “Tell you what Wayne, if nothing happens, I’ll reimburse FEU.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Sure, I’m a man of my word.” With that Howard hung up. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. In six months, if there isn’t an interruption in our plans, it won’t matter how much money I’ve agreed to pay back.

  Howard was still seeking information from Robert Peterson on terrorist activity in the United States from any of his Middle Eastern sources. No information was forthcoming. His contacts within the FBI couldn’t give him any more information. He pondered the lack of information. Maybe this is a hoax to shake up the United States government and have the security agencies chasing their tails, by planting false information. I’ll just have to be diligent and keep my government contacts feeding me information.

  September 11, 2001:

  Howard Lieberman just entered the Florida turnpike on his way to a scheduled meeting with FEU Corporate security personnel at the Florida Ridge nuclear reactor site when his cell phone rang.

  It was a hysterical Michelle. “A plane crashed into the World Trade Center Towers in New York City. Some are speculating it’s a terrorist attack, others think it was an accident. The North Tower is engulfed in flames.”