Jihad

CHAPTER 24

Asad bin Taysr welcomed Marid Dabir with a hearty hug, taking his arm to lead him into the small room where they could sit alone. It was his practice to show people he despised as much kindness as possible. It kept them off balance.

“I heard that you were injured,” Dabir said, gesturing at the bandage on Asad’s head. “I feared our meeting would be delayed.”

“It’s of no consequence. An unfortunate mishap.”

Asad offered his guest some of the water he had been drinking, along with a plate of Syrian figs. They sat next to each other on the couch in the Turk’s small room.

“It has been a long time,” Asad told his visitor. “Quite long.”

“Not of my own choosing.”

“The Sheik sends his blessings.”

Others might honor Asad by calling him “sheik,” but there was only one man in the world Asad would refer to by that name. Dabir knew instantly that he was referring to Osama bin Laden, and bowed his head.

Such a show, thought Asad. As if the man had no vanity or ambitions. But he wasn’t fooled.

Three years before, Marid Dabir had been as close to bin Laden as Asad. But Dabir’s ambitions to succeed the great leader had caused so much division among the al-Qaeda followers that finally the Sheik had given him tasks far from the leadership circle in Pakistan. Dabir, stubborn as always, went on his own initiative to Europe, settling in Germany and starting his own organization there. In doing so, he ignored the networks others had already established. It was rumored that he had done this elsewhere as well, though Germany was where he was based.

And now he was back in the Sheik’s good graces, an important part of the plan for the second offensive against the West. Asad regarded him as a dangerous enemy still, but even a demon could be useful in the campaign against the followers of the devil.

“You are prepared?” Asad asked.

Dabir nodded.

“Good.” Asad excused himself and left the room, walking to the room he had been given as a bedroom. He retrieved a small Koran from his cloth bag and went back to the room.

In his absence, Dabir had eaten all of the fruit. Asad pretended not to notice. He handed him the holy book.

“God is powerful,” said Asad. Then, seeing no need to prolong the meeting, added, “I seem to be a little tired.”

Dabir nodded. “Until we meet.”

“May it be in paradise.”

They kissed each others’ cheeks and took their leave so warmly, even a careful observer might have thought they were the greatest of friends.