The Last Patriot

“Correct,” said Salam, “but no matter how much information about FAIR and its activities I gave him, nothing ever seemed to be done about it. I got the same line about investigations being in the works and it taking a lot of time to build strong cases and then one day Riley told me to sever all ties with Nura and back off the Foundation on American Islamic Relations.”

“Did he say why?”

“Riley claimed that the Bureau was finally beginning a full-blown investigation of the organization and that any further work I did could jeopardize my cover. I agreed. The only problem was that Nura didn’t. She was convinced by what she was seeing and overhearing that something very big was afoot.”

“What was she seeing and overhearing?” asked Ozbek.

“Abdul Waleed began having more and more meetings with a radical Saudi imam who ran several mega-mosques across the U.S. named Sheik Mahmood Omar. According to Nura, the two men seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.

“She had overheard them complain on two separate occasions that if the threat wasn’t halted, Islam, as well as everything they had been working for, could be seriously compromised.”

Ozbek interrupted him. “What threat? What are we talking about?”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to know,” replied Salam. “Nura said they had begun asking a lot of questions about her uncle, who is a Koranic scholar from Georgetown.”

“What’s the uncle’s name?”

“Dr. Marwan Khalifa.”

“Where at Georgetown did he work?”

“The Center for Arabic Studies.”

Ozbek looked at him. “The same place you studied.”

“True, but I’ve never met him. He’s one of those Indiana Jones types who’s always off on some archeological dig or research project.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“He has been bouncing around a lot working on some project for the Yemeni Antiquities Authority,” replied Salam.

“Did Nura say why she thought they might see her uncle as a threat?” asked Ozbek.

“Some of the more orthodox and hardcore fundamentalists felt that his research raised too many questions about the authenticity of the Koran. To them what he did was blasphemy and he was considered apostate, which meant that a case could be made for killing him. If you believe that sort of thing.”

“And do you?”

Salam was taken aback. “No way. Not at all.”

Ozbek made a few more notes and then said, “You told the FBI that Nura said Waleed and Omar hired an assassin. That’s not exactly an easy thing to do. How’d they find him?”

“Sheik Omar arranged it,” replied Salam. “The man’s name was Majd al-Din. It means Glory of the faith in Islam.”

“What was his name before that?”

“I don’t know.”

“You told the FBI that Nura believed he was from the CIA. Why?” asked Ozbek.

“She had overheard Omar bragging about him. He said al-Din was a revert to Islam.”

“Revert is a Muslim term for a convert, right?”

“Yes. According to Nura, Omar was crazy about this guy because he was a typical, average-looking white guy who would never raise suspicions anywhere. He was like a chameleon that could change his appearance at the drop of a hat. He said when you sat down with him he looked more like an accountant than someone who used to kill for the CIA.”

Ozbek added it all to his notebook, making sure he got everything down.

“Omar was especially amped about this guy,” continued Salam, “because he’d been part of some super-secret program or unit or something at the CIA called the Transept. Does that ring any bells with you?”

Ozbek looked up from his pad, shook his head and lied. “No.”

“Well, this guy al-Din is supposedly like the Terminator. He has been programmed to kill and that’s all he does. Kill. Kill. Kill.”

“A lot of people like to boast that they’ve worked for the CIA,” replied Ozbek.

Salam laughed. “And those people are usually the biggest liars. The I could tell you what I used to do but then I’d have to kill you types.”

Ozbek smiled. “So you can see why this all sounds a little over the top.”

“According to Nura, Omar had been al-Din’s spiritual advisor for several years. The sheik seemed to know a lot about him and his background.”

“Maybe he was bullshitting.”

“Maybe,” said Salam. “But I wouldn’t bet on it. Omar’s a rough character and he’s paranoid as hell. He’s not going to bring a white revert into his inner circle unless he’s fully vetted the guy.”

Ozbek didn’t like the sound of what he was hearing, and neither would the CIA. He noted a few more things and then asked, “Is there anything else you can give me about al-Din? A current address or phone number he might be at?”

“I’m sorry,” said Salam as he lifted the last bite of his meal and then suddenly changed his mind and set the fork down. “Nura was killed before she could tell me anything else.”

Ozbek was sorry too. “Did al-Din ever come by FAIR while Nura was there? Did she ever see what he looked like?”

Salam shook his head and changed the subject. “I’m going to prison, aren’t I?”

“That’s not for me to decide.”