Homegrown Hero

by Khurrum Rahman

‘Just...’ I shrugged.

  I had worked out every eventuality. Really there weren’t many. I was so fucking certain that Anthony and Simon had been on that bus‚ but that wasn’t evidence enough. I needed confirmation. The road opened up a little. I used the reprieve to turn off the Bath Road into a dead end road just to get out of the fucking traffic. I parked the car under a large tree for some much-needed shade.

  ‘Jump out‚’ I said. ‘I need some fresh air.’

  I leaned against my car door. Idris walked around and leaned next to me as I sparked up.

  ‘This your idea of fresh air‚’ he said‚ waving the smoke away.

  ‘Your mate‚’ I said. ‘He still investigating?’

  ‘You mean the SIO?’ Idris smiled. ‘Yeah‚ it’s still under investigation‚ but it’s a dead duck. Our tech guys have enhanced the hell out of the video. The faces are obscured with dumb cartoon characters. They’ve sussed out height‚ build‚ even age approximation‚ but we need a face. Naaim was interviewed; poor bastard’s been through it. Anyway‚ cut to the quick‚ he gave a description but honestly it could have been any white youth with a shaved head. He didn’t remember any distinguishing features‚ apart from red Doc Martens. Wasn’t much to go on. For the first week he was at the station every day‚ twice a day for an update. I think he gave up hope after that.’

  ‘Aren’t all buses fitted with CCTV?’

  ‘Covered in a lick of graffiti.’

  ‘What if you found them?’ I said. ‘What would happen to them?’

  ‘Unless we have the original video‚ it’s almost impossible.’

  ‘Hypothetically. What would happen?’

  ‘Jay… Something you want to tell me?’

  ‘Just answer the question‚ Idris.’

  ‘Well‚ they’re looking at aggravated assault‚ add to that sexual assault. Also whoever was responsible for filming the whole thing and then putting it online would be prosecuted under the Obscene Publications Act. All three had a part to play...’ Idris stopped mid-sentence and pushed himself off my car and slipped out his mobile phone. ‘You are kidding me!’ Idris cried‚ staring at the photo that I’d asked him to take.

  ‘Yeah.’ I nodded. Considering that he was a detective‚ he’d taken his sweet time working it out.

  ‘That was them?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Anthony Hanson?’

  ‘And Daniel. And Simon.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure. Daniel’s our budding filmmaker. The other two fit perfectly the description of the attackers.’

  ‘Not exactly evidence is it‚ though‚ Jay?’

  ‘Get your guys to compare the photo to the video footage. Surely that’s enough to at least bring them in and question them. Fuck‚ Idris‚ I can’t do everything for you.’

  Idris tapped his upper lip. ‘Let me think how this would play out.’

  I gave him a moment to think whilst I did a little thinking of my own. I doubted that it would be the first time that Simon and Anthony would have been under police questioning‚ and they’d probably repeat no comment as their mantra. But Daniel‚ well‚ he was a different prospect altogether. I had seen him at his most vulnerable. The guilt dripping desperately from him‚ craving forgiveness‚ as he repeatedly apologised at Naaim’s feet for his part in the attack. Yeah‚ young Daniel would not fare well under interrogation.

  59

  Imy

  There was the slightest of gaps between the bedroom curtains‚ the size and the shape of a penny. Unable to sleep I watched the orange glow from the street lamp peeking in. I watched it through tired‚ squinting eyes that never quite closed for long enough to find sleep. It held my focus for hours‚ changing shape the longer I stared at it‚ until in my mind I decided it was an all-powerful‚ all-seeing eye‚ looking over me‚ looking at me. Seeing me for what I am.

  As crazy as it sounds‚ I communicated with it. I prayed to it. To Allah. I replayed all my sins. The drinking‚ the drugs‚ Stephanie‚ her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow‚ as she slept beside me. I’d hardly prayed in years‚ not giving Him the space and time that He demanded.

  How would He judge me?

  The glow grew bright as my thoughts turned dark. It was He who took away my mother‚ my father. My family.

  But I could never be angry at Him. Because it was He who had blessed me with Khala‚ Stephanie and Jack. My family.

  He who takes with one hand‚ provides with the other.

  Allah would forgive me for my sins. I truly believed that. But would he forgive me for the biggest sin that I was ready to commit?

  Would he forgive me for taking another man’s life?

  The glow eventually dimmed and was replaced by daylight. I waited‚ as I do every Saturday morning‚ for Jack to crawl into our bed. Pathaan had given me two days‚ but I knew he would want me to do it sooner rather than later.

  Stephanie stirred next to me. There were strands of my hair scattered across my pillow and I knew I had spent the best part of the night viciously scratching my head. I brushed them off‚ just as Stephanie opened her eyes.

  She smiled good morning at me. I returned it‚ my smile tightly wound‚ before I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I felt her hand softly running through my hair. My head moved without instruction towards her as her fingertips gently stroked every scratch‚ graze and scrape. I could feel the pressure that had built up slowly alleviate from my shoulders.

  I opened my eyes and this time my smile came easily.

  ‘Imy‚’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You didn’t sleep.’

  I said nothing.

  ‘Who is he?’

  I closed my eyes tightly. Pathaan’s hand around Jack’s neck‚ his other around Stephanie’s. Lifting them off their feet. Choking the life out of my life. I inhaled. I exhaled. And the picture disappeared.

  ‘Somebody... from my past.’

  ‘Ever since you saw him. It’s doing something to you.’

  I opened my mouth. One of a long list of lies waiting to easily escape from my lips. But instead‚ looking into her blue eyes‚ our noses almost touching‚ I just nodded.

  ‘Should I be worried‚ Imy?’ She asked.

  ‘He reminds me of a time that I want to forget.’

  ‘He reminds you of your parents.’

  I nodded. Stephanie removed her hand away from my hair and wiped away a tear that I hadn’t realised I had shed. She reached under the covers and found my hand and unclenched my fist‚ placing her hand in mine.

  60

  Afghanistan-Pakistan Border

  Travelling undercover wasn’t a problem for The Teacher.

  The eyes of the world’s authorities were sharp‚ their billions of dollars worth of intelligence giving very little room to manoeuvre‚ let alone to roam. But roam is exactly what Bin Jabbar did.

  There was a twenty-million-dollar reward on his head‚ but Bin Jabbar had a very high level of trust in his people. Not only the members of Ghurfat-al-Mudarris‚ but also the thousands of sympathisers in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

  Crossing the border into Pakistan was the biggest obstacle. Afghanistan was a landlocked country‚ dependent on Pakistan for its overseas exports and imports‚ but as a result of recent terror attacks‚ security was tight. Aside from the Pakistani armed guards‚ there were a scattering of armed US soldiers watching very carefully.

  Bin Jabbar had changed vehicles four times during the long drive from his hideout‚ in the small village in Maimana. Each van was fitted with a well hidden-panel in the back wall‚ where he stood rod straight for hours at a time‚ with only bottled water‚ dried fruit and a semiautomatic Desert Eagle handgun within reach. Within the panel‚ a small vent was located level with his head‚ to enable him to breathe and also to communicate with the driver. Next to the driver was a woman and a small child. Bin Jabbar insisted on a young family. Handsome‚ beautiful and cute. A family is less likely
to be stopped. A beautiful family is less likely to be questioned.

  They’d arrived at the border early in the morning‚ at the busiest time of the day‚ and joined the huge queue of heavy-duty trucks and lorries. They crawled until they reached the check-point. They were asked to lower their windows and show appropriate documents for the goods that they were taking across.

  Looking in, the guards saw a shy wife‚ a child curiously asking questions about the guns the guards were carrying‚ and an easy smile from the driver as he handed over the documents.

  What they didn’t see was the world’s most wanted man‚ tightly clutching a semi-automatic handgun‚ ready to unleash hell on anyone who stood in his way as he journeyed across borders to try to save his only son‚ before an assassin could carry out a fatwa.

  They crossed the border‚ eyes no longer on them. With the right preparations‚ he could roam wherever he liked.

  It really wasn’t a problem.

  PART 3

  La ilaha illallah Muhammadur Rasulullah:

  In the name of Allah‚ We praise Him‚ seek His help and ask for His forgiveness.

  Whoever Allah guides none can misguide‚ and whoever He allows to fall astray‚ none can guide them aright…

  61

  Heston, West London

  Daniel Lewis had felt something shift as soon as he opened his eyes that morning. As though today was the last day of a life that he no longer wanted to be involved in. Tomorrow‚ he would be free of it. He was encouraged further when he switched his phone on and a text message from a number that he did not recognise was waiting for him. It read:

  Do the right thing‚ Daniel. J x

  He couldn’t be sure who J was‚ but he guessed that it was the same person who had returned his phone. The same person who had picked him up off his knees. Daniel was certain that Naaim would have told J about his role in the attack‚ placing him on the bus.

  The last time Daniel had tried to tell the police‚ he’d bottled it. Simon and Anthony would not take lightly to a grass. Kramer and Rose would definitely not take lightly to a grass. But the guilt was chewing him up from the inside.

  Daniel could hear the buzz of the shower as he glanced at the time. It was just past six in the morning. He should have been dressed. For the past year‚ whilst most are asleep on a Sunday morning‚ Daniel and his dad set off to Western International Market‚ to set up their clothes stall. It was a role that Daniel had stepped into since his mum died. He hated it at first‚ preferring to stay at home in bed and grieve‚ but had slowly grown to love it. He enjoyed sharing a breakfast of hot mini-donuts out of a paper bag from a nearby stall. He enjoyed watching his dad‚ coffee in hand‚ easily charming the customers. It brought them closer together. It was the only time his mind wasn’t occupied with truancy‚ exams‚ and the incessant talk of a better Britain.

  The shower came to a stop and Daniel got out of bed and slipped on the green football-print dressing gown that he had long grown out of‚ but refused to let go. He stepped into the hallway just as his dad stepped out of the bathroom‚ a towel wrapped around his waist.

  ‘You’re not ready‚ yet?’

  ‘I’m not feeling so well‚’ Daniel said.

  ‘What’s wrong‚ son?’ His dad frowned.

  Daniel felt a tear forming‚ he blinked it away and shrugged. His dad put a hand on Daniel’s forehead. ‘Hmm… I’m not sure what I’m looking for here. You don’t seem to have a temperature.’

  ‘Just tired‚ I guess.’

  ‘Tired? At half six on a Sunday morning. No!’ He smiled. ‘Up to you‚ son. Morning fresh air might help perk you up.’

  ‘Do you mind if I don’t?’

  ‘Course I don’t mind. I’ll get all the mini-donuts to myself.’

  ‘Bring me back some.’

  ‘Alright‚ now. You take it easy.’ He surprised Daniel by taking him in his arms. Daniel’s face softly made contact with bare skin‚ still moist from the shower.

  From his bedroom window‚ he watched his dad load the car and drive out of their quiet road‚ just as a police car turned in. Daniel tracked it until it was parked across his driveway. He picked up his phone and reread the message again.

  Do the right thing‚ Daniel. J x

  He replied:

  I will.

  There was a knock at his front door.

  62

  Jay

  I’d made a note of Daniel’s number before I returned his phone‚ and I was pretty fucking tempted to call him and ask him why he was such a weak fuck! Why he’d allowed himself to get involved in something so ugly. It’s too late to be apologising‚ mate. Sorry won’t fucking cut it. It was time he stepped up and did the right thing.

  I’d decided to text him instead.

  I wasn’t expecting a reply‚ but was encouraged when he texted back early the next morning. It looked like he was going to come clean.

  Idris had told me that he’d spoken to his mate‚ the SIO. It took a little time to organise‚ but they were going to present Daniel with a deal. It was all falling into place. The first opportunity I had‚ I was going to give myself a good pat on the back. With those animals locked away and justice served‚ Naaim would have no choice but to down tools and abandon whatever dumb notion of revenge he had.

  Eager to find out what was going on‚ I called Idris. It rang through to voicemail. I sent him a text to call me back‚ and then I jumped out of bed and into the shower‚ surprised by how much energy I had for a Sunday morning. I felt good. In fact I felt fucking amazing. By eight‚ I was showered‚ shaved and dressed. Ready to take on the day.

  ‘It’s early‚ man. It’s Sunday!’ Idris finally called back‚ his voice distant as if his phone was placed on his pillow and he was talking to it‚ not into it.

  ‘Yeah‚ sorry‚’ I said‚ sounding anything but. ‘So tell me‚ then. What’s happened? They get picked up?’

  ‘God‚ Jay! How long have you been up for? You sound hyper… It’s Sunday‚ man.’

  ‘Yeah‚ Sunday‚ you said that already. Did they get picked up?’

  ‘They did.’

  ‘Good‚ now throw away the fucking key.’

  ‘Well… Let’s see‚’ Idris said‚ not sounding as confident as I’d hoped. ‘They’ll be questioned first and then we take it from there.’

  ‘Trust me. That kid‚ Daniel‚ he’s going to talk.’

  ‘I hope so‚ Jay.’ He sighed. ‘Look‚ I’m not working today‚ but I’ll swing by the station later and see what I can find out.’

  ‘Later when?’ I said‚ impatiently.

  He yawned loudly. I quietly questioned the authenticity of it. I knew when he was trying to get rid of me. ‘Later‚’ he said. ‘I’ll bell you later.’

  *

  I contemplated sending a message out on the ‘Kaleidoscope’ Whatsapp group‚ to meet me at Naaim’s place‚ but decided against it. It was clear that Tahir was feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the way things were going with Naaim. Also‚ I didn’t want Ira present when I spoke with Naaim‚ she’d only cloud his reaction. Zafar‚ well‚ he was neither here or there. The last thing I needed was for him to say some stupid shit. So I decided to go on my own.

  I swiped the keys to my Nova from the side table‚ glancing at the spare BMW fob on the keyring and smiled. It wouldn’t be long before I’d be reunited with my Beemer. My smile widened further as I stepped outside into the beautiful sunshine.

  Yeah‚ today was going to be alright.

  63

  Port Gwadar, Pakistan

  Bin Jabbar travelled on busy roads at busy times‚ knowing that the Pakistani authorities would be too lazy to carry out gruelling checks under the gruelling sun‚ only stopping those that looked as if they could be easily bribed.

  He had changed his vehicle three times en route to Port Gwadar. He had spent one night in Mr and Mrs Hanif’s family home. They welcomed him with open arms and wide smiles‚ feeding him rich food that they would nev
er normally serve. Though the Hanifs were staunch sympathisers to The Cause‚ behind their wide smiles and hospitality there was a sense of awful dread. Bin Jabbar’s men had visited their home before his arrival and taken away their boy Musa‚ who was seven‚ and their baby girl Miriam‚ who had never spent a night away from her mother. They were looked after at an undisclosed location until Bin Jabbar had vacated their home‚ serving as insurance. One couldn’t be too careful‚ after all.

  The final vehicle that picked up Bin Jabbar from the Hanif family home was a long semi-trailer. It carried a twenty-foot shipping container filled with furniture. At the back of the container‚ against the back wall‚ was a similar hidden panel.

  He arrived at Port Gwadar during a busy period. The container was given a cursory inspection‚ lifted off the semi-trailer and placed on a ship along with sixty other containers. Once he felt the ship set sail‚ Bin Jabbar stepped out from behind the panel and sat on a wooden rocking chair. He disassembled the Desert Eagle handgun and placed it piece by piece on the small table in front of him. He took out a handkerchief from the pocket of his kameez and cleaned each piece carefully.

  Destination: Abu Dhabi.

  64

  Hounslow Police Station

  Daniel was asked if he would like an attorney or a guardian present. He declined both. A camera mounted high up on the wall pointed down at him‚ and he imagined everyone in the building sitting around a large screen watching him. In the tight interview room‚ opposite Daniel‚ on the other side of the table‚ two police officers watched him carefully. A large tape recorder was sitting on the table‚ along with an iPad.

  After introducing themselves‚ they asked Daniel to confirm his name and address. After that the Senior Investigating Officer said‚ ‘For the benefit of the tape‚ we are going to show Daniel Lewis a video displaying the events that took place on the evening of March nineteenth‚ twenty seventeen.’

  All eyes fell on the iPad. Daniel did not need nor want to see those disturbing images again. So‚ instead‚ he kept his eyes fixed on the impossibly slow timer at the bottom of the screen. Somehow‚ that was worse. The sound even more harrowing than the images. Anthony’s voice‚ scornful‚ urging Simon on. The tinny sound of Layla’s scream‚ as her head scarf was ripped off. The glug of beer being tipped over her head and her muffled wail as Simon entered her mouth with his tongue. Her haunted cries filled the small interview room.