Marseille wondered. It wasn’t possible, was it? Could Zalinsky still be at the CIA? It didn’t seem likely. It had been more than three decades. The guy was probably living on a beach near Miami or in a retirement home in Phoenix or Sun City. Perhaps he had passed away. But it was worth a shot, she decided. She didn’t have anything else to do for the next few days.
With a new focus, she felt a little better now. She changed into her nightgown, washed her face, and climbed into bed. She prayed for her students and for her grandmother, suffering from Alzheimer’s. She prayed for the president and all those wounded in New York. She prayed for David’s mom, that the Lord would heal her, and for Mr. Shirazi, that the Lord would comfort him in his grief.
Then she prayed for David again, and as she did, she wondered if he was the one. Yet how could he be? By his own admission, he was an agnostic Shia Muslim. She was a girl who had made a lot of mistakes, but she was a follower of Jesus and determined to go wherever He led her. How could He lead her to David? That couldn’t possibly be His will. Friends? Yes. But no more. In so many ways they were kindred spirits, she felt. But not in the way that mattered most. So she prayed again for the Lord to protect him and open his eyes to the truth of the gospel. And she wondered if she was really praying for David’s sake… or for her own. A little bit of both, she admitted to the Lord; a little bit of both.
Marseille lay back on her pillow and stared out at a full moon bathing Washington in its glow. She had to get her mind off David, or she’d never get to sleep. She would call the CIA first thing in the morning, she decided. In her quest to truly understand her father’s past, she would see if the name Jack Zalinsky was still in their system.
What she couldn’t know, what she could never have imagined, was that Jack Zalinsky and David Shirazi were sitting together in the same room at that very moment.
Monday
March 7
12
IranAir flight 001 from Mecca was late.
But when the Airbus jumbo jet finally touched down at Beirut International Airport, it was greeted by throngs of cheering crowds, a phalanx of Lebanese soldiers and policemen, and hundreds of local and international journalists, all covering the event live. Some commentators speculated the delayed arrival was meant to build drama. Whether that was true or not, TV ratings had certainly spiked throughout the Islamic world.
Though it was not clear where the rumor had started, it was widely anticipated that the Twelfth Imam would deliver a sermon or some extended remarks on or near the airport grounds. That, however, turned out not to be true. Aided by the security detail, Javad did his best to steer the Mahdi past the crowd of reporters and cameramen waiting for them on the tarmac. Javad was a small, wiry man, nervous by nature. But his chest puffed out considerably to be the right-hand man to the Lord of the Age, at the center of the spectacle. He glanced sideways at the Mahdi and found himself impressed all over again by the man’s charisma and authority. His dark eyes were full of intensity and plans.
But then, to everyone’s surprise, the Mahdi stopped in his tracks, paused for a moment, and turned to respond to a question from a French reporter.
“Your Excellency, the Egyptian Foreign Ministry has just confirmed that President Abdel Ramzy died in the attacks in New York yesterday,” the chief diplomatic correspondent from Agence France-Presse shouted. “Do you have any comment on this development and on the attempted assassinations of the American president and Israeli prime minister?”
“Sorry, no time for questions,” Javad said.
But the Mahdi ignored him and responded anyway. “Islam is moving across the earth. A new Caliphate is rising. This is mankind’s destiny. It is the will of Allah, and no mere mortal can stop it.”
“Are you saying you are happy about the death of the Egyptian leader?” the reporter followed up.
“We have come to the end of days,” the Mahdi replied. “The presidents and prime ministers and kings of the world are ignoble relics of an ancient, passing age. They do not concern themselves with the poor or the common man. Their societies are corrupt. Their debts are crushing. Their currencies are collapsing. Their armies are emasculated. Their evil systems are dying, and so they should. Only Islam can give us hope.”
“What message do you have for the people of Egypt?” an Al Jazeera reporter asked. “Hundreds of thousands are taking to the streets of Cairo, Alexandria, Suez, and Aswân, cheering the death of President Ramzy. But now the army is moving against them, deploying tanks and armored personnel carriers.”
“Allah is our objective,” the Mahdi said. “The Prophet is our leader. Qur’an is our law. Jihad is our way. Dying in the way of Allah is our highest hope.”
“Does this mean you want to see the Egyptian people engage in jihad to join you, to join the new Caliphate you are constructing? Are you calling on the Muslim Brotherhood to rally to your cause?”
“If the Arab states and peoples had relied on Islam instead of relying on the Americans and the Zionists — if they had placed their eyes on the luminous and liberating teachings of the noble Qur’an, had memorized those teachings, embraced those teachings, and had practiced them with true conviction — they would not be slaves today. They would not be poor. They would not be beggars. They would not be shamed in the eyes of the ummah, the greater Islamic community. It is the great chasm between those who call themselves Muslims and the teachings of the Qur’an that has plunged so many millions of Arabs into this dark and catastrophic situation. It is time to awaken the people, to call them to a higher purpose, to show them a purer path.”
“Again, just to be clear,” the Al Jazeera reporter pressed, “are you calling the people of Egypt to join this new Caliphate?”
The Mahdi stood still for a moment and kept silent, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. He waited an extra beat, glancing at the crowds and cameras before fixing his eyes on the young reporter. “I am calling on all the countries of the world to join the Caliphate. This is why I have come. To liberate the oppressed peoples of the earth and lead them to a path of victory and unity. I have come to declare that Islam is the answer to all the world’s ills. Islam will bring you peace. Islam will bring you freedom from fear, freedom from want, freedom to know Allah and to submit to his will. Not simply saying you’re a Muslim. Not simply going through the motions. Submission. This is the heart of the matter. Will you truly submit to the will of Allah? Will you live for him? Will you die in his service? The time has come for nothing less. Mine, therefore, will be no ordinary government. It will be a purely Islamic government. It will be based upon Sharia law. It will give honor and dignity to all who submit. But make no mistake: opposing this government means opposing the Sharia of Islam, and this cannot be tolerated. To revolt against Allah’s government is to revolt against Allah. And to revolt against Allah has its punishment in our law. And let there be no misunderstanding; it is a heavy punishment.”
“We still don’t know the fate of the American president,” a BBC reporter said, “but were you disappointed to learn that the Israeli prime minister escaped from the attack relatively unscathed?”
“The Zionist regime is heading toward annihilation, one way or the other.”