Filmed with a webcam in poor lighting, the man’s face dominated the screen. He had dark skin and five-o’clock shadow. His lips were dried and cracked. When he spoke, he whispered in serious tones, like everything he said was a matter of life and death. His English was fluent, yet tinged with a slight Arabic accent.
“My name is Raheem Al-Jahani, and I am twenty-six years old. I was born in Medina, not far from the final resting place of the Prophet Muhammad, sallallahu alayhi wasallam. For the past four years, I have been an active member of the Soldiers of Allah, an organization that strives to make the world a better place for all Muslims. Until recently, I was proud to call myself a Soldier. But that pride exists no more.”
During the next few minutes, Al-Jahani explained how he was recruited out of college, where he’d earned a computer degree, and slowly proved his worth to the Soldiers by running a terrorist cell in London that was responsible for several bombings. Eventually he moved higher and higher in the network until he was contacted by one of Hakeem Salaam’s top advisers, who asked him if he’d be interested in working on a mission that would utilize his technical expertise. Al-Jahani was honored, especially when he discovered the project had been planned by Salaam, a man who rarely showed his face and trusted no one.
To protect the sanctity of the mission, Al-Jahani was transported to a secret location, where he was housed in seclusion for months. No phone. No Internet. No access to the outside world. He was given a brand-new computer, pre-installed with some of the best encryption software available, and several pieces of hardware. Every few days a guard would drop off food and an envelope filled with the materials for his next assignment.
In the beginning, the information was mostly American. Names of soldiers. Locations of contacts. Ways to manipulate them. To Al-Jahani, the prospects were thrilling because he longed to launch an assault against the country he hated the most. Unfortunately, as his work continued, the focus of the mission began to shift. Before long he started to see Arab documents. Maps of Mecca. Permits for digging. Diagrams of the towers complex.
None of it seemed to fit.
Several weeks passed before Al-Jahani pieced everything together. Hakeem Salaam, a hero to all Soldiers, wasn’t attacking the United States. Instead, he was helping them stage an attack of their own—one that threatened the Kaaba, the most sacred landmark in all of Islam, and the millions of pilgrims who honored it—by providing them with information through his vast network of Arab contacts, some of whom had worked with the Americans for years but, in actuality, were supporters of Salaam. The ultimate goal was to unite Islam against a common enemy, but millions of martyrs would die in the process.
The realization made Al-Jahani nauseous.
At that point he realized he had two options. He could stop working for Salaam, which would result in his swift execution, or he could try to sabotage the mission. Obviously, the latter seemed the more promising of the two. The only question was, how?
He had no connection to the outside world. No way to communicate the threat to anyone.
All he could do was sit and wait, praying that an opportunity would present itself.
His big break finally arrived in late December, when he was ordered to take all the data he had been working on— the blueprint for the terrorist attack—and store it on a SD card that would be delivered to a team of Americans who were working in the tunnel. To Salaam, they were the perfect people to frame. Non-Muslims. Fake paperwork. Access to the towers. Once Saudi officials were tipped, they would find the SD card filled with all the damning evidence, and accuse the Americans of aiding the terrorists.
On the surface, it seemed like a good plan—another way to link the United States to the attack, thereby demonizing them as the butchers of Islam.
However, Al-Jahani viewed it differently. This was his chance to reveal the truth.
“As you have figured out,” he explained, “my computer is equipped with a webcam. No one thought to remove it, since I have no connection to transmit a video feed. Yet this camera has many functions. I am using it to record this message. Earlier today, when the guards came in to give me my final assignment—to encrypt all the data for delivery—I filmed the entire conversation. It will be included on the disk.”
He glanced over his shoulder, afraid that someone might be listening.
“As the guards left, I heard them talking about a pickup they would be making at a tunnel in Mecca and a delivery to Jeddah. I do not know what this means. It could be nothing. It could be everything.”
He paused again, searching for words.
“For all I know, this message might never be seen or heard. Either way, I am confident that it will survive longer than I will. After today, they have no reason to keep me alive.”