“Thirty-eight people killed and a dozen injured or missing.”
“And that’s just what we know so far,” added the Fox News anchorman conducting the interview.
“Yes. So far.” The man leaned forward. “The entire building was demolished, totally gone, and several surrounding buildings were damaged, some rather significantly.” The Israeli gestured, pointing his finger at the TV news man. “This is the worst terrorist act to occur here in your country since the 9-11 attack.”
“I agree,” said the Fox anchorman. “Oh, I know there have been other attempts, such as the planned bombing of a shopping mall in Cleveland, several bombs found planted along a Martin Luther King parade route in Spokane, and the bomb at the Social Security building in Casa Grande. However, none of those resulted in any loss of life. Of course, people were hurt at the marathon bombing in Boston, but this one here in New York was a big incident not stopped in time.”
The news anchor stopped for a moment while the Israeli drank a quick sip of water. “You said you were almost killed, yourself, in connection with this incident. Would you explain what you meant by that, Mr. Ambassador?”
“Yes.” Inhaling deeply, he continued. “Myself and some members of my staff were scheduled to meet for lunch at that restaurant with three American businessmen. They wanted to discuss the possibility of opening a branch of their company in Haifa. There are half a million people living in and around the city of Haifa, so it is something of large importance to my country.”
The Israeli Ambassador to the United Nations, Daniel Shavit, a former colonel with the Mossad, studied the ground, remembering. “They said they were from Brooklyn.” He returned his gaze to the newsman. “I no longer believe that.” Leaning forward in his chair, his voice became stern, almost harsh. “I believe they were Palestinians. Terrorists. They used that line to lure us to the restaurant for a fake meeting. They intended to kill all of us.”
“Fortunately for me,” he leaned back in the chair, “your Secretary of State had to change her plans in order to meet with the President yesterday afternoon. She came by to meet with me earlier than planned.” Suddenly he looked old, waving his hand across in front of him. “I stayed at the UN and sent my assistant and other staff in my place.” He put his head down. “I did not know they would be killed.”
“Mr. Ambassador, you say you think they were Palestinians?”
“Yes, that’s true. And if I were you, I would try to reach them while they can still comment about it. It’s now their turn to worry.”
“Is that a threat, Mr. Ambassador?”
“No, of course not.” He visibly clenched his jaw. “People in our part of the world know you cannot attack Israel and expect to get away with it. There would be some type of retaliation.”
Kamran Khan stood up and turned off the television. “Too bad the Colonel was not there for our little present.” He turned to the other two people sitting there with him in the motel room, watching TV, Rana Saleem and Leena Wateeb. “We must get to work planning our next move.”
“We will go back to Baltimore now?” Saleem asked.
“No!” Khan was firm. “We have to plan how to eliminate ...” he changed his voice to a lilt, "Mr. Ambassador.”
“You will use the sniper rifle now?” Saleem inquired.
Smiling, Khan replied, “Yes. And I think I know how to make this all work.”
“Yes, sir,” Khan said speaking into the phone. “I’m with WNYC-TV.” He smiled at the other two people in the motel room listening. “I don’t know if you heard the Israeli UN Ambassador. He was interviewed on Fox News. He said your Palestinian delegation is nothing but a bunch of terrorists, and that you are responsible for bombing the restaurant yesterday and killing many people, including several members of his UN Staff.”
“Just a minute.”
Khan overheard several voices talking in the background. He could tell the phone had been handed to someone else, then a new voice came on the line. “Who is this?”
“I told the other man, I’m with WNYC-TV. The Israeli UN Ambassador went on television accusing your delegation of bombing the restaurant downtown and killing a lot of people, including members of the Israeli staff. Do you have anything to say about this?”
Khan held the phone away from his mouth, but where he could hear the angry response. He grinned. “So you deny everything.” Again he held the phone away where he could still hear, and almost laughed.
After a moment, he pulled the phone closer so he could speak. “Yes, sir. May I quote you?” Khan continued, holding the phone, shaking his head yes. “What is your name?” Still grinning, he said, “Would you spell that, please?” He wrote the name down on a slip of paper. “Excellent, Mr. Al Hakam.” He listened. “Yes, sir, I will.”
Beaming, Khan remained quiet, listening. “Yes ... Sir, I know it is not my place, but may I make a suggestion?”
Following the conversation, an excited Khan hung up the phone and danced around the room like a child getting ready for a birthday party. The others cheered and clapped their hands, keeping time with the imaginary music for Khan’s dance.
As they tired of the celebration, Khan fell onto a lounge chair, still smiling, catching his breath. “We have much work to do.” He turned to Wateeb. “Leena, get the maps we purchased on our way here. We will need the one that shows the details for Manhattan. We also need the maps for the farm land to the north of the city. Please spread them out on the table so you and I can examine them.”
“Rana,” he turned back to Saleem, “I need you to call several sporting goods stores. Start with those closest to us. We need bullets for the sniper rifle. 338 Lapua Magnum. Try not to answer too many questions. See if they stock them, and how many we can purchase. Some stores impose strict limits. I want the 265 grain polymer tip hunting shells. Next choice is the 285 grain hollow point shells. But write down whatever they have, in case we must choose a different bullet.” He paused a moment, thinking. “They are both 20 rounds to a box. We should get at least two boxes, but I would like four.”
He stood up. “While you are doing that, I will make tea for all of us.”
A half hour later, sitting around the table, Khan explained his plan. “You both heard what I said to the Palestinians, but here’s the full plan. The Palestinian Ambassador, Mr. Hadar Al Hakam, will release a statement denying that any of his people were involved in the bombing. He will claim it’s a plot by Israel to increase U.S. support for their cause and diminish the Palestinians in the eyes of the entire non-Muslim world. He will challenge the Israeli Ambassador to a debate, where each one can present their side of the argument and all the dividing issues they face. They can pose questions to each other.” A huge grin displayed itself and he rubbed his hands together, signaling his excitement. “This must take place in a public forum so people can attend, hear the arguments and questions. This way, more people will hear the Palestinian side and support them. The media also needs to be invited. I suggested the perfect location would be Central Park.”
A cunning smile spread across Khan’s face. “We will choose the right spot for a sniper, then I will suggest an appropriate set-up to the Palestinians, so we can have our targets facing in the proper direction.” He snickered. “They are such pushovers.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “They will make it easy. When the time comes, I will shoot this Jew Ambassador Daniel Shavit. He will not get away this time.”
After spreading several city maps across the table, it was easy to find the proper location. “Here,” Wateeb said, pointing to a large, open area in Central Park. “Right here. This is a good spot for a large crowd to gather. They could build a small, raised platform for each Ambassador over here.”
“Ah, yes.” Khan was pleased. “There is lots of room. They could even have a platform for a moderator.” He reviewed the entire park area, moving his hand over the map. “Yes. Perfect, Leena, perfect.”
Tapping the area on the map with his finger, he said, “This large area here between Central Park Driveway and West Drive. It’s called Sheep Meadow. The note over to the side says it’s the largest open lawn area in the park without any ball fields.”
“What’s this over here?” His finger traced a line on the map. “Yes. It says ‘Neil Singer Lilac Walk,’ here along the north edge of the area.” He beamed. He stood up straight and inhaled deeply. “This is perfect.”
“Now, the sniper location,” said Wateeb. She pointed to the row of buildings on the west side of the street bordering the park. “Where would you pick, Kamran? What would you look for?”
“I will be part of the team,” Saleem spoke up. “Let me tell you what we would want.”
“First,” interrupted Khan, putting his hand in the air. “Leena, would you get the laptop? Let’s look at Google Earth. It will give us more of a three-dimensional view of these buildings.”
Searching for the area in Google Earth was easy. Once they found Manhattan and enlarged the view, they could examine different angles from the satellite image of the buildings and get comparisons of the building heights.
Khan remained quiet and let Saleem do all the talking. Saleem examined the buildings then, sweeping his hand across the screen back to the park area, pointed and said, “We could have them set up the speaker platforms over here, toward the east end of the area. Then they would be facing west, looking toward the buildings back here. The trees on the west side of the opening would not interfere with the bullet path if we stay within this area.” Drawing his finger from the speakers’ locations to the west, back to the buildings, he said, “Here. One of these two buildings. This one would be better for a sniper. It’s high enough so the trees would not be in the way, but not as high as the other building. It would be quicker to get away from there and avoid the police after the shooting.” He nodded as the others watched. “Yes, this is the building. Here on the corner of 67th and Central Park West. Zoom in on the picture. There, see. Notice where the door is for access to the roof, and over here,” he pointed the northeastern corner of the building, “this raised ledge will make a great rest point for the rifle. It is good.”
Khan was pleased, and it showed on his face as he regarded the other two people. “Good job, both of you. Your pick of the building is excellent, Rana. It shows good thought. I like it.”
Turning back to the table, Khan said, “Now let’s look at the other maps. I need a place in the country, some open farm land where I can sight in my rifle safely without being bothered. When the time comes, I want to be sure that I will shoot straight and kill that proud Jew.”