Tariq called down from the office above. "It looks like we're ready to go."
Aleem smiled at Hamid and started phase two of their plan to get him talking quickly. He hoped to have this wrapped up in under two hours. The silent treatment was just a short tension builder. Done properly, they would isolate Hamid for as long as it would take to get him to initiate contact. Tonight, they didn't have that kind of time.
"Imam Muhammad, As-Salaam Alaikum. You're in a deep pile of shit right now. You understand that, right?"
Hamid didn't respond in any way. His expression remained the same, and his gaze focused on an indeterminate point beyond Aleem. Tariq descended the stairs with their black duffle bag and walked behind the Imam. He dropped the bag to the ground and unzipped it.
"Eventually you'll talk. They all do."
Silence penetrated the room, and the Imam didn't waver. Aleem nodded imperceptibly to Tariq, who had removed a can of hair spray, a lighter and a black cloth bag. Less than a second later, Hamid Muhammad's head was engulfed in flames from the aerosol can. He immediately panicked and screamed, trying desperately to stand. Tariq had anticipated his sudden movement and forced the black bag down over his head, pulling down on the sides of the bag.
The bag served two purposes. The first was to extinguish the flames and the second was to keep him from tipping over. Tariq held the bag in place while Aleem beat the sides of the hood to ensure the fire had been stopped. Hamid stopped thrashing and started to recover his composure, just as Tariq pulled the bag's drawstrings tight.
The calmness slowly morphed back into desperation, as Hamid struggled to breathe what little oxygen had slipped into the bag. He gave it another twenty seconds for him to take in the stench of his own burnt hair and singed skin before giving Tariq the signal to remove the hood. When the hood was yanked off his head, the Imam's smug look was gone, replaced by sheer panic. Besides some burnt hair that still smoldered, there appeared to be little physical damage from the fire.
"Do I have your attention now, or do I need to light your head on fire again? This time I'll start with your beard."
"You're not the police!" he gasped.
"No. I'm about as far from the police as you can get."
"Then who are you? Mossad?"
"You might wish we were the Mossad at some point tonight. Even the Mossad has a few rules," Aleem said.
Hamid regarded him with a concerned look, which gave Aleem some hope that they might be able to wrap this up quickly. They had quickly broken the impassive wall the Imam had erected to stall them.
"You have a big problem, Hamid," Aleem said.
"And what might that be?"
"You betrayed your own cause. Shameful really. An entire network of Al Qaeda sleeper cells wiped out because of your greed and immorality."
"What are you talking about?" Hamid said, trying to glance behind him.
"Let's not fuck around here. We know that the European network shipped fifty-eight canisters of a very nasty virus to the United States. Originally, there were several targets in Europe, but the Russian scientist went rogue and panicked your colleagues overseas. Forty of them went directly to your cells and eighteen went to True America, who then turned right around and betrayed you. Two of your cells survived, but one was just slaughtered trying to deliver the virus to their target. America is on high alert. The only targets you might have left are a few lemonade stands in your very own Muslim neighborhoods because I think the tolerance level for sweaty Arabs in most neighborhoods just hit an all-time low."
Hamid looked surprised at the level of information provided by Aleem. "What does this have to do with greed?"
"You're the one that fucked over your own people. How else could the FBI roll up the conspiracy so quickly? Facing charges of collecting and disseminating child pornography, you tried to strike a deal with True America to finance your disappearance to a comfortable compound in Mexico. In exchange for the remaining virus canisters, three million dollars appears in a Cayman Islands account with your name on it, but is suddenly seized by the same agency that made the deposit. Surprise. You made the deal with undercover FBI agents posing as members of True America. Imagine the FBI's surprise when suddenly confronted with Al Qaeda's conspiracy to poison U.S. cities. And they just thought you might be running some kind of child trafficking ring with domestic extremists. This is going to be a hard story to explain to your colleagues in the Guantanamo Bay Detention Camp. Especially with all of the sordid details we can selectively leak into your cell block."
"The True America pigs are the ones that betrayed me. This is a fact," Hamid spat.
"Fact. Fiction. Details really. We can make this look like whatever we want. We have all of the addresses for your sleeper cell network. We'll publish this list. Trust me, your friends will wonder how in the hell we could have acquired this. Of course, the cell responsible for shipping the virus in Frankfurt disappeared without a trace, as they had no doubt been instructed."
"It won't matter. The faithful will never believe what you throw into your false media."
"You'll spend so much of your time explaining these amazing circumstances that I doubt there will be any time left for your duties as an Imam. You'll meet some of your former recruits, who will remember you as a defiant firebrand Imam. Imagine what they'll think when you show up to join them. They'll see you as a soft, corrupted traitor that capitulated to Western excess and sin."
"When my plan succeeds, I will be hailed as the greatest hero. The one who struck the most vicious blow against the Great Satan. You have no true idea how many canisters are still in circulation. Your government can't protect everyone."
"Would you like me to show you the actual list? I have a picture of it on my phone. It's a little hard to read. One of my operatives cut it out of Naeem Hassan's stomach. He swallowed the list. Can you believe that? Completely unexpected. This left us wondering how many other Al Qaeda operatives carried secrets to their graves. Disembowelment and an invasive stomach search is now part of our standard operating procedure. You can thank Mr. Hassan for that."
Hamid sighed, which Aleem knew was a subtle sign of resignation. Aleem had been watching him closely.
"Hamid, eight out of the ten sites were taken down by True America. Turn on the news and you'll see what happened to the ninth team. Give me the tenth team and any information related to your contact with True America, and I will arrange your immediate transit to Saudi Arabia, where you can start over. You have been betrayed by True America. Frankly, we don't know their motivations for stealing all of the virus. I need links to the group, contact information. Some kind of way to set up a meeting to deliver the remaining virus canisters. I need the last cell to make this happen. I need their identities so we can pose as this team and resurface. I also need to be able to report to my people that we are only facing one threat. You'll have to sacrifice this team."
"I'll never betray my brothers," Hamid said.
"They've already been betrayed. If you don't help us with this, you'll go to Guantanamo as a filthy child pornographer and traitor to your own cause. We'll put together a scenario that will be impossible for you to explain. Trust me on this."
Hamid remained silent.
"This will be easy for you. You'll report that the ninth cell was killed trying to accomplish their mission and that the final cell has been killed by True America. We'll make it look like the other attacks. Nobody will know the difference, and you'll vanish, only to reappear at some later date. We'll keep you hidden from the government until we can verify your information. Once verified, we'll start the process of getting you out of the country. Wherever you choose."