***
The chemistry lecture on molar concentrations was pushing Faheem's ability to translate into his native Arabic. The technical words weren't so bad, but the professor seemed to mumble the regular words; English is such a complicated language. The phone in his pocket began to vibrate signaling a call. Faheem ignored it and tried to concentrate on the lecture. The phone kept vibrating and did not go to his voicemail. In frustration, Faheem took the phone out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. The caller was identified as "God's Voice."
At first Faheem was only able to stare at the phone screen. As the realization of his commitment crept in, however, he became more and more pale. The vibrating phone he held seemed to want to jump out of his hand and he needed both hands to stabilize it. He was noticeably trembling as he arose to leave the lecture. The chemistry professor looked at him and asked, "Young man, are you all right?"
Faheem answered in a quivering voice, "Yes… but I need to leave now."
By the time Faheem closed the door to the lecture hall he was perspiring heavily. He sat down on the floor in the hallway and looked at the phone which just kept vibrating. He pushed the answer button and held the phone to his ear; the voice was calm but forceful as it told him to punch in a code and inhale the power of God from the phone's antenna. All the talk of a most holy war suddenly seemed real. He had accepted the scholarship as a means of escaping the poverty of his homeland. He really wanted an education and rationalized that the religious war was just a concept. Now the time had come. If he refused the call he would most certainly lose his scholarship and be sent back to the squalor and poverty he had left. If he accepted the call, what would his life be worth? His previous decision had seemed so logical, but now the time had come to face consequences. Faheem’s thoughts mixed with the doctor's discussion about how this religious war would reclaim for Arabic science its rightful place in the forefront. Anger welled up in him over those political inequalities that had deprived his family of opportunities. It was this anger, more than any religious fervor, which caused him to punch in the code and inhale a musty odor from the phone's antenna.
Faheem's decision had been made. He stood up and began walking out of the science building with his backpack full of books. He found his bicycle amongst the many and rode from the Mojave College campus toward the safe house across town. He wanted to call his new girlfriend, but his cell phone no longer worked. In frustration he threw it into a garbage container without bothering to dismantle it. His mind seemed to race with all of the things he had planned on doing with his life. His body, however, robotically followed the training and peddled on to the safe house. As he approached the house, he noticed a white van sitting in the driveway. His mind suddenly centered on the present. He drove his bicycle up to the small porch and, after dismounting, secured it to the porch with his locking cable.
Approaching the front door Faheem knocked somewhat hesitantly and then more forcefully. The door opened and an excited Radhwan assailed him with religious quotes. Faheem remembered Radhwan from some of the meetings as one of the illogical religious zealots. Why did they have to team him up with one of the kooks? Faheem wasn't sure what the plan was, but significant danger was almost certain. If he had any hope of surviving, logic and planning were essential; illogical belief in rewards after death made no sense. Faheem finally quieted Radhwan's religious monologue by asking, "Is there anything to eat?"
Radhwan responded, "No, Faheem. Why do we need food if the strength of our God is building within us?"
"Because I'm hungry." Faheem listened to Radhwan's explanation of why food was irrelevant and how they needed to concentrate on God's will. He again interrupted and asked, "Where's the next meeting point and what time do we need to be there?"
Radhwan handed him the invitation and Faheem looked at his watch before saying, "Let’s leave now so we will have time to stop for some food."
Radhwan began to complain that they weren't supposed to leave until 2:30. But when Faheem picked up the keys from the counter and started toward the door Radhwan said, "I guess we could leave a little early."
Faheem just shook his head as he walked through the door and opened the van. Radhwan seemed to take forever to lock the house and restore the key to the lockbox. He then began complaining that it was his job to drive. In frustration Faheem threw the keys at him and walked around to the passenger side of the van. As Radhwan got behind the wheel, Faheem said, "Stop at the McDonald's on the right by the Wal-Mart store just before we get to the bridge highway and don't hit anybody."
Radhwan drove slowly, being extra careful at each intersection. He was driving like a little old lady and it only added to Faheem's frustration. They didn't speak at all until they pulled into the McDonald's parking lot. Radhwan again began to recite his religious quotes as to why food wasn't important. Faheem wasn't having any of it. He cut the sermon short by saying, "I'm hungry and if our God didn't want me to eat, He wouldn't have made me hungry. If you don't want to eat that's your business, but I see no reason to starve."
Faheem entered the McDonald's and pulled out his wallet to check for money. He had a lone $20 bill. He decided to go for it and ordered $20 worth of hamburgers, fries and drinks. When the cashier handed him his $.75 in change, Faheem dropped it into the charity box figuring he would have no use for it. He carried the heavily laden tray to a table and started eating. Radhwan entered and sat across from him and began eyeing the food. Faheem rolled his eyes. Without saying anything, he pushed a hamburger and fries towards Radhwan. Radhwan initially shook his head in the negative, then shrugged his shoulders and began eating the hamburger. Faheem ate with determination. Despite his best intentions, he wasn't able to finish all the food. Radhwan ate the single hamburger and most of the fries, periodically checking his watch. At 2:30 he proclaimed, "Time to go."
Faheem arose. Saying nothing, he began clearing the table and depositing the debris in the trash. He felt better - though maybe a little too full. This sense of partial contentment disappeared as soon as Radhwan began driving. During their training, the recruits were taught that as the power of God developed they would have some irritability and were given techniques to control it. Faheem worked hard trying to control his temper, but Radhwan's driving was aggravating. While he did a little better on the highway and bridge, when they entered the main drag in Laughlin it was all Faheem could do to contain himself. It seemed forever before they reached the safe house and pulled into the driveway. The car had not even stopped and Faheem had the door open and was getting out.
Radhwan said, "Open the garage door."
Faheem walked up to the keypad and tried to remember the code but his mind was all jumbled up. When Radhwan told him in a patronizing tone to remember his training, Faheem began to boil over and turned toward the car ready to attack it. The code popped into his memory and he settled down somewhat. He punched in the code and the garage door rolled up. The garage was empty and Faheem noticed a door leading into the house proper. He didn't wait for Radhwan to drive in but tried the door, which was locked. He remembered his training lesson and that the key was hidden, but he was so upset he couldn't remember where.
Radhwan finished parking the car and turned it off. Getting out of the car, he walked over to the small cabinet in the corner and found the key sitting on top. He walked up the stairs and used the key to open the door. As he walked in he said simply, "Close the door."
Faheem clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw muscles stood out in sharp contrast. He pressed the door closer button but really wanted to tear the button off the wall. He watched the garage door slowly close and took a deep breath trying to calm himself. His inability to remember something so simple humbled him. He concentrated, recalling parts of his training. Through his jumbled thoughts came back the scene of the doctor telling them how important the mantra "God is great" would be to them, as the power of God developed in them. He closed his e
yes and repeated the mantra seven times. It did calm him.
By the time Faheem entered the house, Radhwan had already retrieved the next sheet of instructions. He read them out loud to Faheem. Listening to the rather poorly spoken Arabic of Radhwan, Faheem would have much preferred to have read the sheet himself. A trap door was to be found in the main bedroom closet and their equipment was stored there. Radhwan went on about the great battle against Satan which they were about to participate in. Faheem was in no mood to listen to Radhwan's religious propaganda and began to explore the house. There were three bedrooms; one was larger with its own bathroom. He rolled back a rug in the closet and there was indeed a trap door. Lifting the door, Faheem was greeted by the smell of stale air in the crawl space below the house.
Radhwan was now standing behind him and asked, "Do you think there will be snakes down there?"
Without answering Faheem lowered himself through the opening. Only some light coming through the corner wall vents and the trap door above him broke the darkness. He could just make out a stack of equipment to his left. "We need a flashlight."
Radhwan said something about the flashlight he saw in the cupboard and Faheem could hear his footsteps as he left to retrieve it. He repeated the mantra to relax himself. Vaguely, Faheem recalled an assurance the recruits had been given: everything they needed would be provided. With his eyes now adjusting to the dim light, Faheem could make out the structural post which held up the floor. The ground seemed to slope upward to his right, narrowing the space from the 4 feet he sat in to less than 2 feet. He explored the pile of equipment with his hands until a flashlight beam fluttered through the darkness. Radhwan, delivering the flashlight from above, misaimed the beam directly into Faheem's eyes.
Faheem reached over and tore the flashlight from Radhwan's hand snarling, "Give me that before you blind me!"
There were a half-dozen crates stacked in front of him. He set the flashlight on the ground and began handing the crates up to Radhwan. They were heavy for their size, and Faheem figured inside these crates were weapons for their mission. After he handed the last crate up, Faheem used the flashlight for one final sweep through the crawlspace. On the nearest post he saw some writing. In Arabic it said, "God is great." Previously he always ignored religious slogans. But this one seemed to calm him and he stared at it until interrupted by Radhwan asking, "Is there anything else down there?"
Rather than answer, Faheem simply clambered back through the trap door; when Faheem didn't bother to close the door Radhwan objected, "You had better close the door, in case there are snakes down there."
Faheem rolled his eyes in frustration but slid the trap door closed. They began opening the crates, which were filled with the same type of weapons the recruits had trained with. There was also a notebook containing a map and diagrams of the Laughlin Grand Casino. Their plan of attack was carefully orchestrated with distinct steps and timing. Faheem concentrated on inspecting and separating the equipment. Radhwan studied the manual forcing himself to memorize each step. Only after much study was he willing to allow Faheem the opportunity to scrutinize the manual. Despite his mental angst Faheem was able to ingest the material quite quickly and was concerned about the sketchy plan of escape.
Radhwan announced, "We leave in 45 minutes."
Something wasn't right with this plan, but Faheem was having trouble organizing his thoughts enough to pin it down. Radhwan's announcement, however, clicked things in place. Faheem asked, "How about the time change?"
"What are you talking about?"
"We crossed the time zone when we entered Nevada. We have to set our watches back an hour."
"There is nothing in the plan about changing our time. They must have allowed for this in their planning."
"I would expect they figured we would do it on our own."
"We're sticking to the plan as written."
Faheem felt the anger rising in him. Something was wrong and this religious zealot of an idiot was incapable of seeing it. Even though the two towns were adjacent, their time zones were an hour apart. Arizona didn't use daylight savings time. During the summer they were on the same time as Nevada, but in the fall Nevada reverted to regular time and was an hour behind them. He was pretty sure the time had changed already. However, his thoughts were so jumbled he was having trouble utilizing his logic of which he was normally so proud.
Radhwan began reciting religious quotes about Satan and how they were going to strike a blow to his power here on earth in the name of their God. Angry, Faheem shouted, "Stop it!" and approached Radhwan with his fists clenched, ready to pound him into oblivion.
Radhwan didn't back down. Instead, preparing to fight, he chanted, "Our God is Great."
The effect on Faheem was dramatic. That phrase produced a soothing of the wild beast within him, as if hypnotized. Stopping his advance Faheem said, "OK, we'll do it your way. We had better start getting ready."
Faheem separated the armament into two piles. He then donned a black commando uniform. He was trying to analyze why that simple phrase had such a powerful effect on him. Saying the phrase silently to himself produced some calming, but nothing like seeing it or hearing it from outside his own head. He just couldn't keep his thoughts organized enough to work ideas out logically. It had to be something in his training though he wasn't able to identify it. It was as if someone had put a switch inside of his head which responded to that specific signal.
Faheem's thoughts were interrupted by Radhwan who asked, "How do we activate the communication device?"
Technology and engineering Faheem could handle. He told Radhwan, "I'll help you when it's time. We're not to activate until just prior to the start of our mission to prevent detection of our radio signal."
Their preparation time went quickly. They hid their automatic weapons under a blanket on the back seat of the van. They sported bright colored shirts over their armored vests. This effectively hid their armament from casual observation but made them look quite obese. Faheem would have found their appearance comical but he was working too hard to control his thoughts. He had no energy to worry about the outcome of their mission; trying to maintain self-control was paramount.
Radhwan drove even more carefully than before. Despite having the air-conditioning on high they were both sweating. Radhwan began whispering the phrase "God is great." Hearing it gave Faheem a little comfort and he tried saying that phrase out loud which helped a little more. They fell into a rhythm with alternating chants. This provided some sense of control, but it took both of them working hard to concentrate enough to drive the short distance down the hill to the casino. The wait for a left turn signal onto the casino drive was excruciating. They fidgeted and sweated, their nerves raw. When the light turned, a car pulled right in front of them cutting them off. Radhwan laid on the horn and Faheem found himself reaching into the backseat for his weapon - both recruits issuing a stream of profanities. Fortunately the car sped off before its occupants paid the price for their indiscretion.
Faheem forced himself to restore his weapon to its hiding spot and Radhwan resumed driving. But they were both trembling with rage. Their chant seemed to help little now. Faheem concentrated harder than he had ever done before, trying to recall his training. He told Radhwan, "Turn right into the parking lot and drive by the drop-off zone in front of the casino."
Radhwan would have liked to yell back at Faheem that it was his responsibility to drive, but he was so hyped up that remembering what he was supposed to do was almost impossible. Faheem's training kept them on track. They drove by the front of the casino looking for security guards. There were two men loitering at the near end of the entrance; they would be their initial targets. Faheem said, "Keep driving; now turn left into the parking lot."
When they reached an open area of the parking lot, they stopped the van and took off their colorful over-shirts. Faheem activated his vest and then activated Radhwan's. Ra
dhwan gripped the steering wheel so tightly his fingers were white and he was trembling noticeably. Faheem readied both of their weapons and said, "Now drive back to the handicapped parking and pull into the first slot."
Radhwan did as he was told.