Nagib spent most of his days studying the Koran and praying — something he had never devoted time to do in the US or in Palestine — and also studied the potential targets in Israel. He decided that a nuclear strike in the heart of Tel-Aviv would bring the Zionist state to the verge of annihilation as it was the commercial dynamo and cultural center of the country. Furthermore, a similar strike in Jerusalem or Haifa was bound to include many Arabs in the death toll, while in Tel-Aviv there were only a few Muslims and he believed that Jaffa, in which many Arabs resided, would not be heavily affected by the blast or fallout. He focused on the beachfront as it was always crowded and close to the American embassy. This would be like killing two birds with one stone. He noted that there were many hotels along Yarkon Street and some of them less than 50 meters from the American embassy and decided that he would check into one of those, arm the bomb and try to get away from Tel-Aviv. However, when he checked the availability of rooms in his selected hotels he found that there were no vacancies in most of them, so he decided to take a calculated risk and reserve a room at the Lusky Suites Hotel that was just across the narrow road from the embassy. He used his American credit card to make the reservation believing that it was no longer under surveillance.
He had made a quick trip to Cairo to retrieve his suitcase from the Pakistani embassy there. The Cultural attaché, Sadiq Ul-Haq, told him that they had almost given up on him and that he had consulted General Masood and asked him what to do with the weird suitcase. The general had told him to wait until after Eid al-Fitr and send it back to Islamabad if it was not claimed by then. Nagib smiled apologetically and said that the timing was crucial and that he wanted to stay below the radar of the US and Israeli intelligence agencies for as long as possible. Sadiq led him to the basement, handed him the suitcase and wished him luck, adding that he had already forgotten about the suitcase and Nagib…
The journey back to Jordan was uneventful — no friendly German girls on the bus this time and no fun and games in Nuweiba port. No one took a special interest in his suitcase and he made his way back to the Amman New Camp with no hassle from Egyptian or Jordanian authorities. Sheik Tawfiq's people waited for him and told him that everything was set for crossing the border into Israel the following night. They also informed him that the Sheik had arranged for the suitcase to be carried through the King Hussein Bridge (that was also known as the Allenby bridge) terminal in broad daylight by the driver of a tour group of Christian pilgrims on their way to the holy sites in Jerusalem. The driver, who was generously paid, didn't know what the suitcase contained and was led to believe that it was just another load of illicit drugs.
Nagib didn't ask any questions and said he would be ready for the journey. The following evening, four Arab youths arrived in a four-wheel drive Land Cruiser and unceremoniously told Nagib to put on the dark clothes they had brought with them and sit quietly in the back of the car. They drove for a couple of hours along paved highways until they reached an area on the west side of the Balqa district, close to the border with Israel. The lights of the car were switched off and it slowly approached a deserted area near the low cliffs overhanging the Jordan River. They got out of the car and walked quietly to the edge of the cliff. The leader looked at his watch and told Nagib to get ready for a short spurt in fifteen minutes. Exactly fifteen minutes later a series of detonations was heard from positions north of their location. Several flares were launched from the Israeli side of the border in the vicinity of the detonations. The leader grabbed Nagib's arm and told him to hurry and the small group waded across the shallow waters of the Jordan River, cut a small hole in the security fence on the Israeli side and quickly marched to Highway 90 on the Israeli side of the border where a truck loaded with chicken cages was waiting. A clearing was prepared in the middle of the chicken cages and although the stench was overbearing Nagib was glad to be sitting down between walls of cages filled with chickens that were furious about being disturbed in their sleep. The truck headed south and within 20 minutes they were on the highway leading from Jericho to Jerusalem. The sleepy Israeli soldier at the roadblock checked the driver's papers, took a cursory glance at the cages, wrinkled his nose at the stench and waved the truck through. Thirty minutes later the truck came to a halt in an enclosed yard and the human cargo was unloaded from the truck while the chickens were taken directly to a slaughterhouse. Nagib said that he needed a shower and fresh clothes and his wish was fulfilled by the attendant Palestinian. He was told that he had time for a short nap and that in the morning he would be driven to the hotel in Jerusalem where his suitcase was already waiting to be picked up.
Chapter 17
Alia managed to find a small local car rental agency run by women in Tucson that accepted her New Mexico driver's license without triggering an alarm. She knew that presenting that document at any national car rental agency would be flagged immediately so she avoided those. Using her credit card would have surely also caused problems so she was pleased to pay a substantial cash deposit to the local agency in lieu of a credit card. She once again used the excuse that her estranged husband was stalking her and that he had private detectives tracking her movements so she couldn't use a credit card. A sympathetic woman at the rental agency accepted the story and even upgraded her car.
She enjoyed the drive along the I-10 through Phoenix, Palm Springs and San Bernardino and took her time, stopping for gas, food and coffee. She arrived in downtown Los Angeles and didn't like the area so she continued west to Santa Monica and found a reasonable motel that was only a few blocks from the Pakistani Consulate. After a good night's sleep she searched the web for shopping malls in southern California. There were several places that looked as attractive targets but she liked the Costa Mesa mall that looked suitable for her purpose.
The next morning she drove down there to take a look at the place. The traffic moved slowly at first but once she was out of the center the pace picked up and it took her about one hour to get to the mall. Its location in the heart of Orange County, a well known stronghold of conservatives who had a reputation for not being great lovers of Arabs and Muslims, gave her another reason to select this shopping mall. However, she was surprised by the number of women wearing Hijabs and Abayas and some even covered their face with Khimars. Alia found it quite amusing to see that these fully covered women were accompanied by men in jeans or teenagers in shorts, tee-shirts and sandals. She was impressed by the size of the mall and the number of shoppers who were taking advantage of the pre-Labor Day sales. There were several hotels close by so she presumed that a woman with a large suitcase would not raise suspicion. She noticed that there were no special security arrangements at the entrance to the mall and it looked as if the shop owners were more concerned with shoplifting than with security. In short, she thought, this would be an ideal target for her deadly cargo.
She suddenly realized that the Pakistani Consulate would probably be closed from Saturday to Monday due to the Labor Day vacation and that meant that she had to rush to consulate on Friday to collect the suitcase. She did see that there was an option for emergency services on weekends and wrote down the telephone numbers, but preferred not to stand out and bring too much attention to herself. So she rushed back to Santa Monica and got to the consulate just in time before it closed. It turned out that due to Ramadan office hours were shorter than usual and the visa section closed at 3:30 pm.