The Caliphate, André Gallo [best books to read ever .TXT] 📗

     Al Khalil was still mulling over what he wanted to reveal to Roger.

     After he hung up, Roger glanced at the photograph again. He brought his hand up to the right side of his face and felt the frozen muscles under the skin. His fingers felt the rictus-like smile forever painted on the right side of his mouth. The photograph had captured his last triumphant moment. Visitors often commented on it in admiration. What no one knew was that the fall that had caused the right side of his face to become paralyzed had occurred a second after the photo had been taken. His future fame and glory, so certain in that photo, had been destroyed in the next heartbeat. He knew he was ordained to win the next Olympic jumping competition. But life had played a dirty trick on him. He was hell-bent to substitute the life that had been taken from him unfairly with success in other ways. He felt confident that he was owed big time and that he need not play by the same rules. He knew that he was different, that he was gifted, and that laws and regulations were for others.

     The army had sent him to study Islam and Arabic, first at the Institut National des Langues et Civilisations Orientales, called by its students Langues O, and then to Tunis where the DGSE had an Arabic language school From the school, he had been recruited by Service Action, the DGSE’s special operations branch backed up by the 11th Parachute Regiment of the French Foreign Legion.

     As a student of Islam, Roger had managed to meet al Khalil and eventually persuaded him to provide information on radical Muslim movements. In time, al Khalil had grown in stature and was offered participation in alluring financial propositions. Roger often profited personally from these opportunities. Al Khalil had become more than just an agent in Captain Roger’s life. In a way, the money he made from these deals made up in small part for the life that had been taken from him.

PART II

It is in the nature of Islam to dominate, not to be dominated, to impose its laws on all nations and to extend its power to the entire planet.

—Hassan al Banna, Founder of the Muslim Brotherhood.

Those who know nothing of Islam pretend that Islam counsels against War. They are witless. Islam says, “Kill the Infidels.”

—Ayatollah Khomeini, Qom, 1986

29. Outside Al Khalil’s Office

The morning after his telephone call with David, Salim took Tariq for a walk in the courtyard.

     “The insights you shared with me last night are worthy of a great leader,” Salim said. “You are right that the Shiites are gaining in political significance, thanks in part to the Americans and their ‘one-man-one-vote’ concept. Taking care of the Shiite problem is major. However, it will follow as night follows day once we take care of the Jew problem. In the meantime, instead of striking against Iran, perhaps we can use its international capabilities to our advantage. Our funders and backers will be happier if we score directly against the Zionist entity. Or against its American parent.”

     Those had not been David’s instructions. On the contrary, David had told Salim to support a strike against Iran. But Salim had turned David’s words in his mind for most of the night. It was one thing to give the Americans information of the state of progress of the Sahelian enterprise. It was something else to do their bidding against another Islamic state, even if it was Shiite. The advice he was giving Tariq was his own, not David’s.

     “What are you suggesting, Salim?”

     “That we give Islam a victory against Israel in its own land. Hijacking an El Al plane or attacking an Israeli embassy has become routine, unexciting. A strike in what they call their homeland will renew your mandate as head of Islam’s hopes. And I’m not talking about blowing up a pizza parlor.”

     “Salim, you are inspiring me. But how can we be successful where the Palestinians have failed? Or even against the United States now that their guard is up?”

    “Nothing is impossible, Tariq, if Allah is with us, and he is. Now is the time to activate one of the support cells in America. In fact, we could have a two-track strategy. Prepare for both an operation in America and another in Israel. At the right time, we will choose one or the other.”

     Al Khalil said nothing for several minutes, picking up sand and letting it run through his fingers. Finally he looked at Salim.

     “No. We cannot dissipate our resources. We must exert all of our forces on one target, and that target has to be the Zionist presence on our land. Hamas will help us. We have many Ikhwan brothers in Hamas.”

     It was time for mid-morning prayers. They stood up and went to the Mosque room.

30. Paris

Justin, a member of the Paris CIA station, rushed to reach Le Grand Hotel on Rue Scribe, near the Place de l'Opéra. He crossed Rue Auber and was soon in front of the hotel’s baroque façade. Before he walked in, he rechecked the picture in his pocket to imprint the target’s features firmly in his mind.

     He spoke into what appeared to be a cell phone headset but was an encrypted surveillance communications device.

     “This is Blue Hunter. I’m in place. I’m about to go inside. Anything new on target location? Over.”

     Joyce, in the Paris station’s communications vault, answered.

     “This is Hunter Control. He has not moved. Over.”

     She was sitting in a room crowded with stacks of communications gear operated by two men busy with their duties.

     “I have not heard from Red Hunter or Green Hunter. Are they in place? Over.”

     “They are on their way.