As he sat on a wooden bench waiting to be called upon to meet the leader of Taleban in their encampment on the outskirt of Kunduz near the mountainous region of Feyzahad in Afghanistan, his mind raced back to the tedious hours of travelling he had to endure to get there. It was easy buying a ticket heading to Kabul but it was far from easy passing through the series of checks he encountered on the way.
He was almost detained by the Allied forces upon suspicion that he was going to join Al-Quaeda forces but for his British citizenship and his identity as a medical assistant attached to the British forces, they had believed his identity but had questioned his destination. He suffered the same fate at the Taleban checkpoint in the hideous mountains but for his fluent and perfect Dari with which he convinced the guards that he had arranged a meeting with Mola Omar as the deputy commander of Al-Quaeda in the UK. The guards had double checked to be sure he was not infiltrating. He was allowed through on order from the leaders and that he be treated with respect knowing the importance of the British cell in the logistics and overall operation of Al-Quaeda.
The meeting had been hurriedly arranged and since the sparse communication they had did not allow room for proper questioning, he was given the pass to come over and meet with Mola Omar. He was brought back to his presence by an ant that was crawling up his leg, he shook it off and starred round the windowless hut again, it could have passed for a cell but for the doorless doorway. He could hear men conversing in low voices outside the hut. Though the camp had no visible fence but the expanse was demarcated by the positioning of the huts. The interiors of the huts were packed full with war-ready men who had their Kalashnikovs handy, either hanging from the neck or resting on the wall next to their body but ever within a grabbing distance. His eyes were heavy but he fought back the sleep and tiredness nagging at his body, he had to keep awake for any show of fatigue might be seen as a sign of weakness. He had only managed an hour of sleep in twenty eight hours and he felt his body craving for sleep now like never before, his eyelids were falling freely, he kept himself awake with all his might, sipping the lukewarm tea he was served at intervals and keeping his mind on it in order to aid his fight against the slumber.
At three and a half hour before midnight on his wristwatch, two men walked into the hut, they apologised for the delay and took him with them. He was going to meet Mola Omar at last, he thought, this was a meeting he had thought much about long before he embarked on it. They left the hut into the cold night, with the moon glowing bright high up in the night sky, lighting the way and the compound. He could make out armed men positioned all about the camp. They stopped in front of one the smaller hut, one of the men tapped on the door and it opened from within, the two men stepped aside for him to go in. The hut had two people in it, Mola Omar sat on the only seat in the hut while the other man stood about, he was no doubt guarding Mola Omar, he wedged a Kalashnikov to his chest, his hand held the handle with his index finger in the trigger hold, obviously ready for any showdown.
Mola Omar welcomed his visitor pleasantly and asked after the leader back in the Uk. Fahad Al-Ibrahim narrated the extent the Uk Al-Quaeda cell had gone in bolstering the fight against the west, he also recounted that they had recruited two hundred keen devotes whose identity they are keeping secret because they suspected MSI men are infiltrating their ranks. Mola Omar was obviously delighted with the level of progress they were making in the Uk, he raised his face at his guard, gesturing towards the door, the man went out of the hut, leaving the two to do more catching-ups. The two men talked freely in the absence of the guard, Mola was happy Fahad shared his level of animosity for the west and especially for his achievements. He began to brag about his likeness for brave and meticulous men, he emphasized his unquenchable aversion for the west and everything they stood for.
Wariness is the order of the day among the member of terrorist groups, everyone was suspicious of everyone else especially members of different branches because traitors abound, as both men discussed in Dari, Fahads fluency and perfection of the language, despite his britishness, bought Molas confidence and he relaxed his guards completely. He began to reveal more secrets to Fahad. He told Fahad about their pending attacks on the US bases in Kabul and Kandahar. As a show of his approval of Fahad, Mola took Fahad on a tour of the encampment showing him places like the cafeteria, an underground armoury, the training ground, the dormitories and their recruits.
`We might not have all the technology they have but weve got men Mola said arrogantly looking round the men `devoted and proud men of war’´ he added
All the while they were talking Fahad noticed Molas left hand never leaves the inside of his Kaftan, it was further covered by a ash-coloured Keffiyeh which he wrapped around himself. He had been informed, about a well kept secret, that Mola had a strange infection that had his left hand decoloured and filled with rashes from wrist to the fingers. They discussed freely, both men trying to outdo each other with bogus and non-existing stories of their achievements. Fahad told Mola Omar how he intends to destroy the house of Lords and kill all the MPs, that earned him praises from Mola Omar. The host offered his visitor to go and get some rest after ha had observed Fahad yawning through most part of their conversations. Fahad was no doubt glad to be left off, he slept peacefully for hours.
When he woke, he found the sun was overhead and he decided to look around the camp once again, knowing no one will question him after the familiarity he was bestowed by Mola the night before. He went to the cafeteria and entered looking around with no special interesting but taking note of the detail; the workers, the doors, the kitchen etc. he went to the armoury from there, he pretended he was passing bye but making mental note of the place, the guards and the environment. He noticed there were three guards, one manned the staircase leading down to the doorway while the other two manned the surface of the armoury marking its points. He went to the training ground, where men were doing work outs and warm ups. Then he went ahead to the dormitories. He observed that the men ate in batches while their high-ranking officers were served their meals at their posts. As he went, he noticed two long vehicles covered with camouflage tarpaulin, tree branches and leaves. He also observed with disgust the willingness with which the guards and men comply with the orders without any visible physical reason. It is always like that, he thought, these men have been cajoled into thinking that they are fighting for a noble course, for Allah, and that their reward is in heaven, gullible people, he used to be one of them a while back.
At this point he decided he had had enough, he had better retreat to his hut before he loses his mind in anger. He turned around and as he did he noticed one of the guards watching him. One thing he knows for sure was that no one can challenge him, not even Mola, They thought he had been sent to observe their operations which they cannot confirm any time soon, even if they can, he made his way back, as he went he changed his mind and went to Molas hut instead. He met Mola taking a meal of Qabili Palau accompanied by plates of meats, yogurt, wey and fruits, he entered into the hut and Mola as if expecting called to him.
`Youre welcome Brother Fahad Mola said cheerfully `come and join the table he added gesturing to the vacant chair next to him. Also sitting at the table was Azar bin Mahmud, Molas deputy who had just got back from Kabul, Azar glarred at Fahad disapprovingly. He sat with them at the table. Thanks to the Keffiyeh, he thought, if not for Molas sake, for theirs, it has kept Molas pigmented hand from sight, he cannot imagine eating with such hurrible sight. And for his own, the Keffiyeh had protected his face, hair and his linien Kaftan from the dust in the camp.
`Nice meal Fahad said as he set down his cup of juice
`thats one thing we cant deprive ourselves here Mola replied proudly `even our men eat well
`what could be more befitting than a good meal before killing those bastards said Azar in the same haughty tone
`we dont have this type of privilege Fahad said regrettably `we can only instruct, direct and monitor our operations, open congregation like you have is impossible, we dont even bid our people farewell
`its rather ironic Mola said `the situation is reversal, what you have, we dont have and what you dont have, we have
`we gave up a lot to be here Azar said mindfully
`no doubt, you did affirmed Fahad
They discussed further on issues of common interest, as they talked Fahad wondered why the men have so much hatred for the west, he had been in that state of mind ” hate for hate sake. He knows regrettably though, that there is no way of stopping terrorism completely but he was going attempt to end this one. He tried imagining, what these men had to give up to be there. Out there, are men, young and old, fighting a war they know nothing about and one they cannot win. It is absurd that once you have joined this movement, you cannot back out, the price of insubordination is death without trial, nothing like court marshal here. It does not make any difference whether they get killed by there own explosives or by allied forces bullets, they were doomed all the same. It is very awkward to think that just one man or a couple of men could have easily dragged a whole race and region into a needless war costing innocent lives, separating families and breeding mistrust among men who had lived in peaceful co-existence.
They talked a while longer until a man came into the hut, he went to Mola and whispered into his ear and left. Omar rose from the table and Azar Followed suit
`Brother Fahad, you can return to your place of rest, Ive got things to attend to, Ill talk to you later tonight
Later that night Mola Omar briefed Fahad Al-Ibrahim about their intended attacks on the US bases. `I told you about this before
`yes, you did answered Fahad `thats one of the reason I came, we need the experience back home because we might be carrying out similar attacks in the near future.
`weve gone to great pain to plan this mission Mola paused as if waiting for Fahads approval `we want to make these attacks a once-and-for-all concluding attack, weve sent many men to spy out those bases and we lost two of them, it s worth the try anyway because we now have all the information we need
`I agree with you brother Mola, its been my opinion that no mission regardless of its size should fail because everytime we fail, we lose men and why should the loss be one-sided.
`youre in the same line of thought with me, Ive always been an advocate of collateral loss, I believe, if were going to lose men, they must lose double our number.
` Im loving this brother Mola Fahad said praisefully I can hardly wait to have those bastards blood spilled.
`these attacks might end all meaningful occupiers base in Afghanistan because well make sure they are all destroyed completely he paused a little, then he spoke again `this is what they deserve and thats what they will get
`yes brother Mola, youre great indeed
`this mission, Insha Allah, is particularly important to us and for that reason, were putting almost everyone we have into it, those that will be left behind will be those guarding this place
`yes it is asserted Mola `at 1 a.m., Ill be dining with the men before they leave, thats been our tradition here because it might be our last time together, its to let them know they are loved
`Im really fascinated and encouraged, these are all we cant do
`were facing different conditions and we are contented with this
`yes brother Mola, youre very right Fahad said `that reminds me, I was sent to to see to your hand as well as learn a few things here he added judging Molas response
`what about my hand? Mola asked concernedly
`I brought medications, intravenous injections that will cure it completely
`you people believe in western medicine to your own peril
`thats my profession and if I dont believe in it, I might not be here right now talking to you. Moreover, this medication has cured a lot of people of similar illness, thats why I was sent here
`Im not running down your profession but your believe in the western ways`
`it`s all we`ve got`
Inspite of Mola Omars disapproval of the west and its medicines, he agreed to be treated by Fahad Al- Ibrahim. The doctor went into the adjoining room that served as the bathroom, he opened the water tap and left the water running while he pulled off his Kaftan, he took the smaller of the two syringes he had sewn to the inside of the back and put on the cloth again while he tucked the syringe into his sleeve, he washed his hands. He emerged from the bathroom moments later looking refreshed and ready. He went to where his bag laid, brought out a small bottle of liquid chlortrimeton.and set it down on the ground. He set the syringe and pulled the content of the small bottle into the plastic. He put on a pair of gloves and as he crossed the room to where Mola laid, like a magician, he expertly brought out the syringe he kept in his sleeve while replacing it with the other. He took Molas arm and emptied the Barbiturate, Paralytic and Potassium solution into Mola Omars vein just above the wrist of the affected hand. Mola flinched slightly but Fahad soothed him.
`this medication will make you sleep for a while but when you awake, youll be fine, Insha Allah Fahad said reassuringly
`thank you brother Fahad Omar said gratefully
`please, let him rest till he wake up himself he said to Azar bin Mahmud
`ok brother Fahad Azar agreed and followed Fahad out of the hut. He whispered to the guard at the door.
Mission half completed, thought Fahad Al- Ibrahim, he had to get to the kitchen but first to his own hut. He went into the bathroom of his hut and repeated the same process. He brought out the bigger syringe. He wished he could get to Bin Laden or El-Zawahiri, they would have served him better. He went in the direction of the kitchen, it was haif an hour before the stipulated time for the last dinner, Mola Omar will still be breathing but just. He entered the kitchen and only one man was there working to beat the schedule, he was busy arranging cutleries, Fahad approached him but the man was too busy to attend to him, he raised a hand in an apologetic gesture of no time. The man went about his duty disregarding Fahads presence. Fahad Al Ibrahim does not need him either, he went further into the kitchen, to his surprise, he found no one else in the kichen, he found two large pots of rice simmering on equally large stoves. He looked around and found no one in sight, brought out the syringe and emptied half of the potassium cyanide into each pot, he stirred the rice with a paddle-like stick.
Back to Mola Omars hut he went, he had to make sure the destruction is total. He was not going to stop at that, he has to destroy the place, especially that armoury and for that purpose he took some grenade from Mola Omars hut. How he was going to gain access to the armoury was a problem, with those three guards ever watching, he stood no chance. Time was not on his side, he had to do what he has to do and get as far away from the camp as possible before they found out. No doubt, he will be their number one suspect when they find out what had happened. He loaded his pockets with the grenades and out he went. To get away, he has to distract the peoples attention and so he decided to walk in the shadows till he got within a short distance of the armoury, he pulled the pin of one grenade and launched it into the air in the direction of the of parading guards, he ducked back into the shadow again and waited. The explosion shattered the silence of the cold autumn night. He could hear the guards screams and they went quiet afterwards, he pulled the pin of another grenade and launched it in the same direction again, he ducked again but the explosion this time was louder and it set off other explosions in a chain explosion which left the camp in disarray, he could see a few bended men trying to get away, they held their stomachs as they do.
What luck, he though,t as he made away from the encampment, they were too easy a target, why do people think terrorist are above death or fearless, they have fallen easily to his plot. The camp had been consumed completely, he observed. As he was leaving the last of the huts, a movement caught the corner of his eye, he felt the pang on his side before he heard the burst of the pistol in Azar Bin Mahmuds hand. Azar was holding his stomach as he wriggled in pain.
The explosions were heard in towns nearby and the news soon got to Kabul which prompted the Allied forces to send troops to Kunduz.The troops found a Taleban encampment which they had not heard of, in shambles.The camp was littered with corpses among which was Mola Omar and Azar Bin Mahmud, two of Americas most wanted terrorists. One of the troopers found a wallet beside one of the bodies, he picked it and when he opened it, he found pound sterling and some afghanis, then he began to count the notes, a picture fell from the wallet, the photograph was of a young british soldier in full ceremonial uniform, he turned its back and found written on it my Son, he searched the wallet further and found a medical identity card belonging to Fahad Al-Ibrahim, he compared the ID with the face of the dead body and it was the man.
`Lieutenant, mind taking a look at this the trooper called to his commander. The man approached him, he took the picture from the trooper and stared at it for a while
`where did you find this? he as asked curiosly
`it fell from this billfold, I found this ID in it as well the trooper said handing the ID and the wallet to the Lieutenant
`This is Farruk Al Ibrahim, he was one of six soldiers that died about four months ago in a terrorist ambush in Kandahar The Lieutenant explained `I guess this is his father. he added pointing to the ID