CHAPTER 1
ISIS' CONCEPTION
Those that listen and follow any extreme ideas while blinding themselves with anger, hatred, and a lust for revenge for previous abuses that victimized them end up being the instruments, the useful fools, for the new and worse abusers. Before you know it, those tyrants gain power and control over your destiny by stripping you of all your rights.
Dr. Julio Antonio del Mármol
Kingston, Jamaica
2000
11:22 am
I had spent the previous two years running all over the continent of Africa tracking several terrorist subjects and studying their movements. I patiently sat in a small corner of the airport, flipping through a magazine. My eyes, though, were everywhere. I was in a small salon waiting for the plane I was about to board for Cuba.
I was disguised as a mulatto Caribbean islander. My hair was tinted black and permed and I wore a prosthetic nose. My lips were also larger and thicker than normal for me. I was dressed in a black sport coat, white pants, and white shoes. My sunglasses appeared to be Calobars, but special crystals in the corners allowed me to see every movement behind me.
I turned slightly and saw behind me an old black lady in a wheelchair coming in my direction. Over the loudspeakers a female voice announced, "Flight 112 from Kingston to Havana departs in twenty minutes. Please approach Gate 6 for boarding."
I closed the magazine and leaned forward slightly in my chair. I opened my bag and put the magazine inside it. As I leaned back in preparation to stand up, I saw that the old lady was closer to me. She came up next to me and tapped my left leg with another magazine. I smiled and looked at her. The face looked familiar. With a small smile, she held the magazine out to me. I didn't take it, because she had not identified herself to me. Her smile faded, and she looked at me over the rims of her sunglasses, holding the magazine out in a more demanding way.
"On page eighteen, you will find an interesting article which says the Cuban government will hold free elections very soon." As she said those last words, she smiled cynically at the irony of the statement. I realized at that moment that the old lady was my friend Chopin, in near-perfect disguise. I smiled again, this time in relief, and I took the magazine without any more concern.
"Thank you very much, lady, I said with only the slightest emphasis on the last word.
In his own voice, Chopin whispered, "Don't be cute, eh? Don't get on that plane for any reason at all on Earth. Cuban intelligence is waiting for you at the Havana airport. They have a picture of you in this disguise. This information comes compliments of our Amazon in Varadero Beach. She sends you lovely, cordial regards. I will wait for you outside. Take whatever time is necessary. Be sure you check your tail, but do not get on that plane. They already have two men from Cuban intelligence who will escort you as soon you hit international airspace."
I twisted my head a little bit, and saw behind us two men who were watching us with a little too much attention. They looked like Cuban agents all right, in spite of their disguises. They also weren't getting in line to board the plane, which showed me that they were waiting to make certain I boarded the flight. My discomfort increased. I said to Chopin, "OK, lady." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "You can give me more details outside, OK? I think we've caught the attention of the two guys already observing us."
Chopin nodded. He displayed a ten-dollar bill in his hand, and said loudly in his feminine voice, "Thank you, Massa. You are a good and generous man. God bless you for your great heart."
I waved dismissively to 'her' with the magazine 'she' had just given me. I adjusted my travel bag, stood, and walked to the end of the boarding line. I kept the corner of my eyes on the two men. As I got into the line, I saw them rush to get into line a few people behind me. I opened the magazine and turned to page eighteen. There was a note with a paperclip attaching it to the page. It read in large red letters, Great danger. Somebody has double-crossed us. Your cover has been exposed. Abort your mission. Tanya. At the bottom, another message in black ink read, Don't get on that plane in that disguise. We will wait for you outside. There was a smiley face before and a cartoonish ghostly figure. It was signed, Casper, the Friendly Ghost. I grinned as I got out of the line.
I went over to a vendor that was selling guarapo close to the boarding line. I ordered the largest glass possible so that it would take some time to prepare. I saw the men getting very nervous as they struggled to keep their eyes on me without losing their track. When I would rejoin the line, I would be behind them, and it would be difficult for them to make sure I got on the plane. As I waited and the line moved forward, the distance grew greater and their quandary increased.
After I obtained my beverage, I returned to the line. They looked at me and saw my appearance of casual inattention, sipping my juice through a straw. They calmed down at that sight. I kept my cover, remaining in line even after they had stepped through the door. I set my bag on the floor and fished around in it, waving people behind me on ahead. After doing this a second time, I was very glad I had used this stalling tactic. One of the men had conveniently 'forgotten' his carry-on bag, and was coming back from the plane to recover it. I could see his eyes looking all over for me.
I smiled and breathed a small sigh of satisfaction. I waited until the last passenger had boarded the plane. As soon as I saw they were about to close the gate doors, I headed towards the bathrooms. I went inside and cut up all the documents that tied me to that guise and flushed them into different toilets: passport, boarding passes, everything for that identity. After that, I put my carry-on bag on the long sink. I pulled out new clothing and accessories to change my disguise at once.
My hand still in the bag, I heard a voice behind me say, "Turn around very slowly with your hands up. Don't try any tricks. We've been studying you very carefully. If you want to continue breathing, do as I say. There are two ways we can do this."
Even though I was in front of the bathroom mirror, I kept my head down as if searching in the bag, my eyes locked on the corner of my glasses. My hand very carefully continued searching in the bag, but I kept my shoulders and elbows absolutely still, giving the impression that I'd frozen. I didn't want to prompt any overreaction or retaliation towards me. The men were behind me, silencers on their pistols, both covering me. I could see the determination in the eyes of both men. They would kill me without hesitation.
My hands discovered the two objects I was seeking: a cigarette lighter and a metal cigarette case. Cupping them carefully, I very slowly started to raise my hands as directed. To distract them, I raised my head and spoke to them with a smile, looking at them in the mirror before me. "My friends, I think you've got the wrong man. I'm a businessman. I'm on a trip to Cuba looking to increase my fortune. The only reason I'm here in the bathroom is that I'm looking for my cigarettes. I would rather miss the plane and catch the next one than leave here without my...
