Zero Day_ A Novel - Mark Russinovich [73]
One of the elderly men, a fighter from the old days, had spoken to him one night about the blade and how a sword or knife were the only true weapons for any desert Arab. Firearms were used of necessity, but a true Arab warrior fought with the blade, close to his enemy where he could see the life drain from the body of the slain.
Fajer had been deeply moved. Later, the old man had given him a knife, a shafra, of old construction. “It has taken the blood of many infidels,” the nearly toothless man had said as he pressed it into Fajer’s hand. “You must use it in jihad.”
The handle of the shafra was of white pearl, the seven-inch steel blade turned down in Arab fashion. It was meant to be worn in a sheath in the small of the back as a reserve or secret weapon. The next morning, Fajer had donned the knife. Now he was never without it.
He was so moved by his many experiences at this desert encampment that he had selected a future wife from among the people. Though she was not yet ten years of age, when the time was right, he would wed his third wife in a traditional tribal ceremony, planning to leave their children among her people, wanting them to be raised free of the temptations and contamination to which he’d been exposed as a child.
Eight years earlier, Fajer had taken Labib to the settlement for the first time. Beside a dying fire, within the comfort of his people, staring into an ebony sky with stars sparkling like tiny diamonds, Fajer first shared his vision of the future.
“We have turned away from the Prophet, the Merciful. Our punishment has been to see our people seduced by the West. The greatest curse ever given us has been oil. Because of it the West has conquered and divided us. Otherwise they would have left us at peace.”
“I understand. We are but two men. What can we do?” Labib had asked.
It was the first moment it had occurred to Fajer that his brother was with him. He had felt alone until this moment. “The Prophet was but one when he began. With two, we can level mountains. Tell me of this education you have from the American university. I know very little about Americans.”
The brothers had talked far into that night and several nights to follow. During the days they had hunted wild game and flown their falcons. “This,” Fajer said more than once, “is the life we Arabs were meant to live.”
But the men had done nothing but complain until the attack on the World Trade Center. Fajer had called his brother and told him to turn the television to CNN International. They were talking by telephone as they watched the two towers fall.
“Allahu Akbar! Allah is greater!” Fajer had exclaimed. “Allah be praised!”
They had been convinced that this was the beginning of something great and watched the news each day with anticipation. But as the Americans had driven the Taliban out of power in Afghanistan, then invaded Iraq, as they had harassed the followers of Osama bin Laden around the world, Fajer had lapsed into a deep depression. The West was winning again. The previous summer the two brothers had met in the Hejaz Mountains, where Fajer had expressed his loss of faith.
“Osama cannot do it alone. The American forces are too strong. We are weak, and getting weaker. It has all been for nothing.”
Labib then spoke to his brother about thoughts that he had long kept to himself. “It is true that the West is corrupt and evil. But it is also true America and its allies have an enormous industrial base capable of overwhelming us in battle. Their one great ability is to build weapons, and their single greatest strength is their absolute willingness to use those weapons against anyone they consider to be an enemy.
“In the last half century they have expanded their industrial base far beyond what it once was. They have pursued their policy of creating one world under their polytheistic, hedonistic rule. To accomplish that, they have connected their means of production worldwide, but nowhere is that connection more firm than within the United States. Banks, manufacturing, national defense, government—everything