Through the window Kareem spied Mohammed sitting near the back and strained to look at ease as he entered the tiny diner across the street from the mosque. The prison convert suspected by the look on Mohammed’s face he was in for another subdued tongue-lashing. Kareem had missed sunrise prayers . . . again. He had been admonished before about his lack of submission, which some saw as a lack of faith, but self-discipline and punctuality were never his strongest characteristics, even prior to his conversion.
He debated lying to Mohammed, telling him he had gone to another mosque or performed the ritual at home. The fifth-century Chinese author Sun Tzu, in The Art of War, stated, “All warfare is based on deception.” Kareem was at war on an urban battlefield, and this morning might be a time to hone his skills, exercise deceit, and practice the art. Besides, Muslims believed in taqiyya, lying to safeguard oneself or to protect Islam. Kareem anticipated his pride was about to be attacked and might demand protection.
For months Kareem questioned whether he should move to another mosque, maybe one where more African-Americans attended. If not for Mohammed, he would have left shortly after he first began worshipping at the strip mall facility, which had been recommended by a visiting imam at the prison. Kareem was the only homegrown convert. The others, born in the faith, emigrated from Iran, West Beirut in Lebanon, or Syria’s Shiite community.
He heard the rumors and backstabbing. Many recent failed terrorist plots were the actions of converts; men and women radicalized through the Internet, who brought too much attention to the jihadist agenda. Kareem had been lumped into this pot of offenders and for all his bravado, his ego was fragile. He sought acceptance and never felt welcomed, except by Mohammed, who nurtured him, praising his skills and devotion.
Mohammed clearly articulated the cell’s mission: impose Allah’s word on America so Islam would reign supreme. The means of accomplishing that goal seemed clear to a man of Kareem’s limited religious background, yet for some, even those in the cell, it was not as defined as Kareem would have liked. The ex-con had an all-or-nothing vision of jihad.
Kareem had studied enough in prison to know Israel was not the problem, as many who were ignorant of the cause’s true mission espoused. The Koran demanded all nations submit to Allah. The nation of Israel served as a fashionable excuse, a convenient scapegoat, for the current call to arms, but Israel wasn’t even a recognized state when Muslims conquered the Middle East, North Africa, and most of southern Europe centuries earlier. As Kareem recognized from his readings, a homeland for the Palestinians wouldn’t halt the efforts to implement sharia in America or worldwide.
Since he was taking risks others in the cell were unwilling or unable to take, maybe this morning was the time to be assertive. Kareem prided himself on never backing down from anyone in prison or on the street, so why was he fearful of the cell’s leader? Kareem towered over Mohammed and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds. Even larger OGs, or Original Gangsters, as the gang members in the hood referred to them, never instilled this much apprehension in the convicted felon. Though Kareem was still questioning his own religious foundations, he believed Mohammed had been ordained by Allah.
The ex-con had heard whispers of Mohammed’s heroics in Lebanon during the most recent battle with the Israelis in 2006. It was rumored Mohammed was a member of Hezbollah, the Party of God, and trained by Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps—the IRGC. Each time Kareem broached the subject, Mohammed dismissed the inquiry, reminding the novice jihadi that only through Allah could the cause succeed, and no one should seek individual glory.
In many ways the cell was autonomous, with Mohammed making the tactical decisions without much overseas input or oversight. It had been that way since he arrived in Los Angeles in 2009. Taking the “long route” from Beirut to California wasn’t easy. It had taken him three months to travel by sea from Lebanon to Caracas, then by ferry to Panama and a dozen bus trips through Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, and north up Mexico’s west coast to the cross-border tunnel in Tijuana.
But in the end, it was worth it. Since being smuggled into the United States there had been thousands of telephone calls, text messages, and emails between Mohammed and his Quds Force masters. Buried in trillions of NSA metadata files there were records of these communications. Yet for more than five years his true role as the leader of an Islamic terror cell had gone undetected.
Though government surveillance had failed to detect the cell’s existence, the aggressive financial investigations by the FBI and Treasury agents in recent years made it difficult for the cell to receive funds. Mohammed was often forced to seek his own funding to recruit new jihadis for the cause or to move Hezbollah “sleeper agents” across the border into the States.
Kareem not only sought Mohammed’s approval but was constantly looking for ways to benefit the cause. He hoped for a more prominent role for himself in the cell, and knew his aggressive ideas were not embraced by those who feared going beyond the safe confines of the mosque.
Kareem offered his hand and cautiously took his seat. The waitress approached with a second pot of tea and dropped a menu on the table.
“We missed you this morning,” said Mohammed.
Kareem only nodded.
Maybe it was Mohammed’s leadership skills but he chose not to admonish the newest member of the cell. “Well done last night. Allah be praised.”
Kareem breathed a protracted sigh, a smile now growing on his face. “Allah be praised.”
“Do you still believe we made the right decision?” asked Mohammed.
Kareem nodded.
“The fact you were successful only reinforces the belief Allah chose to honor our decision.”
Kareem blew on the steaming tea before taking a sip, then said, “We couldn’t let Sonny live. He told Candy he was working for the cops. We couldn’t take a chance.”
“What about the other one?” asked Mohammed.
“They both need to go but setting him up might be tougher. He’s part of Yeong’s security team.”
“You are wiser in those ways because of your street experience in this country,” noted Mohammed.
Kareem’s smile grew. “Even if we’re wrong, it’s two less infidels.”
Mohammed wanted to smile but didn’t. “We can’t resolve every question with a bullet.”
Kareem shrugged as the waitress returned. Kareem quickly glanced at the menu, then said, “I’ll take two eggs scrambled and pancakes.”
“Would you like bacon or sausage with that?”
Kareem shook his head as she turned toward Mohammed.
“I’m fine. Just the tea,” said Mohammed.
When she left the table, Mohammed smiled and said, “I guess your cover is still intact if she offered someone devoted to the cause pig for breakfast.”
“Do you think she’s an undercover fed who doesn’t understand our beliefs? I hear they can be pretty stupid,” whispered a smiling Kareem.
Suddenly serious, Mohammed said, “Americans are not stupid, but they are easily distracted. Look how excited they got about Russia and Ukraine. They also believe in diversity and believe we are a minority in need of protection.” Mohammed laughed with contempt. “But they are ignorant of our ways and our calls for jihad. Though our fatwas have been most public they attribute these holy proclamations to religious ‘fundamentalists.’ The American media even refers to the imams who issue these fatwas as ‘conservatives.’ ”
Kareem was no longer smiling, focused now on his spiritual mentor.
“The Americans are fools. The ‘true believers’ number in the millions. Allah’s army actually outnumbers the American military. We have infiltrated their entire society. We live on their college campuses. We have supporters in their media, in their courts, even in their big businesses, who want to proclaim they are ‘inclusive.’ Like you, Kareem, we have sought out brothers in their prisons. Americans who remain neutral are on our side. Theirs is a nation of apathy, too consumed with depravity, self-indulgence, and decadence. They allow us not only to exist but to thrive.”
Without even raising his voice, Mohammed instilled fire and passion in Kareem, calling for his service to the Islamist cause and its enemies. For Kareem, the enemy was an American society that had held him in chains for a lifetime.
Shaking his head, Mohammed said, “Our allegiance is not to any flag, not to a political party, certainly not to the democracy they have deified. Our allegiance is to Allah alone and his will calls for a worldwide Islamic caliphate with a mandate of any means necessary. Not just one nation under God but an entire world in submission to Allah.”
Uncharacteristic warmth overcame Kareem as he flushed with pride, knowing he was playing a part in a movement designed to destroy the corporate and personal demons in his own life.