The light from a weak sun was breaking over the mountains as the stranger approached the building at the end of the village path. He could see his breath as he looked down trying not to trip over the stones and debris that littered the ground, the last vestiges of a drone attack the previous spring. He could feel the weight of the watchers’ stares. He was tall and walked with a slight limp. He had traveled throughout the night. His keffiteyeh was stained with perspiration. When he entered the building the stranger smiled and bowed to the old man who sat crossed leg on the prayer rug in the center of the room.
“As-salamu ‘Alaykum,” the old man greeted the stranger.
“Wa ‘alaykumu s-salam,” he responded as he took his place at the opposite side of the rug.
The meeting had been arranged by the head of the Al-Qaida cell in Aden, the legendary leader of the December 29, 1992 bombing of the Gold Mohur hotel.
The old man stared at the stranger. The stranger waited. The old man could read nothing in the stranger’s face.
“You have traveled a great distance,” the old man spoke in Farsi as he signaled one of his tribesmen to serve the tea. In keeping with their custom, the serving of tea was a sign of respect.
The stranger nodded. He accepted the cup that had been offered to him and held it in both hands in front of his face as the man poured the tea from the dented metal kettle. He nearly gagged from the dung-like odor of the brown liquid. He held the cup above his head and nodded his thanks to his host and his entourage. He took a full sip and bowed his head as he struggled to keep it down. He looked up and smiled at the old man. He waited for the others to be served.
“So you will destroy the bell?” the old man finally asked.
The stranger nodded.
“But of what value is that?”
“It will demonstrate our reach, and our dedication to the destruction of all things they hold sacred.”
“Is that all?” The old man was not impressed.
The stranger stared back at him, with a gleam in his bottle green eyes. He shook his head and smiled. “No there will be more, much, much more.”
“So what do you want from us?” the old man asked.
“The sleepers,” the stranger replied.
The old man nodded.
Murder and Mayhem in Manayunk on Amazon US
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