Since the author also requests remuneration, we would ask these

W >> Winn Schwartau >> Since the author also requests remuneration, we would ask these

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Public estimates were that the war had already cost over
1,000,000 lives for the adversaries. Both governments disputed
the figures. The two agreed only 250,000 had died. The extrem-
ist leaders of both countries believed that the lower casualty
numbers would mollify world opinion. It accomplished the exact
opposite. Criticism was rampant, in the world courts and the
press. Children were going to battle. Or more appropriately,
children were marching in the front lines, often without weapons
or shoes, and used as cover for the advancing armed infantrymen
behind them. The children were disposable receptacles for enemy
bullets. The supreme sacrifice would permit the dead pre-adoles-
cents the honor of martyrdom and an eternal place with Allah.

Mothers wailed and beat their breasts in the streets of Teheran
as word arrived of loved ones and friends who died in Allah's war
against the Iraqi infidels. Many were professional mourners who
were hired by others to represent families to make them look
bigger and more Holy. Expert wailing and flagellation came at a
price. The bulk of the civilized world, even Brezhnev's evil
Soviet empire denounced the use of unarmed children for cannon
fodder.

The war between Iran and Iraq was to continue, despite pleas from
humanity, for another 6 years.

Ahmed Shah was a 19 year old engineering student at the exclu-
sive Teheran University when the War started. He was reared as a
dedicated Muslim by wealthy parents. Somehow his parents had
escaped the Ayatollah's scourge after the fall of the Shah. Ahmed
was never told the real reason, but a distribution of holy rials
certainly helped. They were permitted to keep their beautiful
home in the suburbs of Teheran and Ahmed's father kept his pro-
fessorship at Teheran University. Ahmed was taught by his family
that the Shah's downfall was the only acceptable response to the
loss of faith under his regime.

"The Shah is a puppet of the Americans. Ptooh!" His father
would spit. "The Yanqis come over here, tell us to change our
culture and our beliefs so we can make them money from our oil!"
For a professor he was outspoken, but viewed as mainstream by the
extremist camps. Ahmed learned well. For the most part of his
life all Ahmed knew was the Ayatollah Khomeini as his country's
spiritual leader. News and opinion from the West was virtually
nonexistent so Ahmed developed as a devout Muslim, dedicated to
his country and his religion.

When the War began he thought about enlisting immediately, but
the University counselors convinced him otherwise.

"Ahmed Shah, you are bright and can offer Iran great gifts after
you complete your studies. Why not wait, the War will not be
forever, and then you can serve Allah with your mind, not your
body."

Ahmed took the advice for his first year at the a university
student, but guilt overwhelmed him when he learned about how
many other young people were dying in the cause. From his par-
ents he would hear of childhood friends who had been killed.
Teheran University students and graduates were honored daily in
the Mosque on campus. The names were copied and distributed
throughout the schools. True martyrs. Ahmed's guilt compounded
as the months passed and so many died. He had been too young to
participate in the occupation of the American Embassy. How jeal-
ous he was.

Why should I wait to serve Allah? He mused. Today I can be of
service, where he needs me, but if I stay and study, I will not
be able to bid his Will for years. And what if Iraq wins? There
would be no more studies anyway. Ahmed anguished for weeks over
how he could best serve Iran, his Ayatollah and Allah.

After his freshman finals, on which he excelled, he joined the
Irani Army. Within 60 days he was sent to the front lines as a
communications officer.

They had been in the field 3 days, and Ahmed had only gotten to
know a few of the 60 men in his company when the mortars came in
right on top of them. The open desert offers little camouflage
so the soldiers built fox holes behind the larger sand dunes.
They innaccurately thought they were hidden from view. More than
half the company died instantly. Pieces of bodies were strewn
across the sandy tented bivouac.

Another 20 were dying within 50 yards of where Ahmed writhed in
agony. Ahmed regained consciousness. Was it 5 minutes or 5 hours
later. He had no way of knowing. The left lower arm where he
wore his wristwatch was gone. A pulpy stump. As were his legs.
Mutilated . . .the highest form of insult and degradation. Oh,
Allah, I have served you, let me die and come to you now. Let me
suffer no more.

Suddenly his attention was grabbed by the sound of a jeep cough-
ing its way to a stop. He heard voices.

"This one's still alive." Then a shot rang out. "So's this
one." Another shot. A few muted voices from the dying protested
and asked for mercy. "Ha! I give Mercy to a dog before you." A
scream and 2 shots. They were Iraqi! Killing off the wounded.
Pigs! Infidels! Mother Whores!

"You, foreskin of a camel! Your mother lies with dogs!" Ahmed
screamed at the soldiers. It brought two results. One, it kept
him a little more alert and less aware of his pain, and two, it
attracted the attention of the two soldiers from the jeep.

"Ola! Who insults the memory of my mother who sits with Allah?
Who?" One soldier spun around and tried to imagine which one of
the pieces of bodies that surrounded him still had enough life to
speak. He scanned the sand nearby. Open eyes were not a sure
sign of life nor was the presence of four limbs. There needed to
be a head.

"Over here camel dung. Hussein fucks animals who give birth to
the likes of you." Ahmed's viciousness was the only facial
feature that gave away he was alive. The soldiers saw their
tormentor.

"Prepare to meet with your Allah, now," as one soldier took aim
at Ahmed's head.

"Go ahead! Shoot, pig shit. I welcome death so I won't have to
see your filth . . ." Ahmed defied the soldier and the automatic
rifle aimed at him.

The other soldier intervened. "No, don't kill him. That's too
easy and we would be honoring his last earthly request. No, this
one doesn't beg for mercy. At least he's a man. Let's just make
him suffer." The second soldier raised his gun and pointed at
the junction of Ahmed's two stumps for legs. Two point blank
range shots shattered the three components of his genitals.
Ahmed let out a scream so primal, so anguished, so penetrating
that the soldiers bolted to escape the sounds of death. The
scream continued, briefly interrupted by a pair of shots that
caught the two soldiers square in the middle of the back as they
ran. They dropped onto the hot desert sand with matched thuds.

Ahmed didn't hear the shots over the sounds coming from his
larynx. He didn't hear anything after that for a very long time.

Unfortunately for Ahmed Shah, he survived.

He woke up, or more accurately, regained semi-consciousness more
than a week after he was picked up at the site of the mortar
attack. He was wired up to tubes and machines in an obviously
well equipped hospital. He thought, I must be back in Teher-
an . . .then fog . . .a blur . . .a needle . . .feel
nothing . . .stay awake . . .move lips . . .talk . . .

"Doctor, the patient was awake." The nurse spoke to the physician
who was writing on Ahmed's medical chart.

"He'll wish he wasn't. Let him go. Let him sleep. Hell hasn't
begun for him yet." The Doctor moved onto the chart on the next
bed in ward.

Over the next few days while grasping at consciousness, and with
the caring attention of the nurses, Ahmed pieced together the
strands of a story . . .what happened to him.

The Iraqis were killing the wounded, desperate in their attempts
to survive the onslaught of Irani children. All must die, take
no prisoners were their marching orders. In the Iraqi Army you
either did exactly as you were told, with absolute obedience, or
you were shot on sight as a traitor. Some choice. We lost at
Abadan, the Iraqi's thought, but there will be more battles to
win.

Ahmed was the only survivor from his company, and there was no
earthly reason that could explain why he lived. He was more dead
than alive. His blood coagulated well in the hot desert sun,
otherwise the blood loss alone would have killed him. The medics
found many of his missing pieces and packed them up for their
trip to the hospital, but the doctors were unable to re-attach
anything of significance.

He was a eunuch. With no legs and only one good arm.

Weeks of wishing himself dead proved to be the source of rest
that contributed to his recovery. Was he man? Was he woman? Was
he, God forbid, neither? Why had he not just died along with the
others, why was he spared! Spared, ha! If I had truly been
spared I would be living with Allah! This is not being spared.
This is living hell and someone will pay. He cried to his par-
ents about his torment and his mother wailed and beat her breast.
His father listened to the anger, the hate and the growing
strength within his son's being. Hate could be the answer that
would make his son, his only son, whole again. Whole in spirit
at least.

The debates within Ahmed's mind developed into long philosophical
arguments about right, wrong, revenge, avenge, purpose, cause
and reason. He would take both sides of an issue, and see if he
could beat himself with his alter rationales. The frustration at
knowing one's opponents' thoughts when developing your own coun-
ter argument made him angry, too. He finally started arguing
with other patients. He would take any position, on any issue
and debate all night. Argumentative, contrary, but recovering
completely described the patient.

Over the months his strength returned and he appeared to come to
grips with his infirmaries. As much as anyone can come to terms
with such physical mutilations. He covered his facial wounds
with a full black beard that melded into his full short cropped
kinky hair.

Ahmed graduated from Teheran University in 1984 with a cruel
hatred for anything Anti-Islam. One major target of his hatred
was President Reagan, the cowboy president, the Teflon president,
the evil Anti-Muslim Zionist loving American president. Of
course there was plenty of room to hate others, but Reagan was so
easy to hate, so easy to blame, and rarely was there any disa-
greement.

He thought of grand strategies to strike back at the America.
After all, didn't they support the Iraqis? And the Iraqis did
this to him. It wasn't the soldiers' fault. They were just
following orders: Do or Die. Any rational person would have done
the same thing. He understood that. So he blamed Reagan, not
Hussein. And he blamed the American people for their stupidity,
their isolationism, their indifference to the rest of the world.
They are all so smug and caught up in their own little petty
lives, and there are causes, people are dying for causes, and the
American fools don't even care. And Reagan personified them
all.

How does a lousy movie actor from the 1950's get to be President
of the United States? Ahmed laughed to himself at the obvious
answer. He was the most qualified for the job.

His commentaries and orations about the Imperialists, the United
States, England, even the Soviet Union and their overwhelming
influence in the Arab world made Ahmed Shah a popular man on the
campus of Teheran University. His highly visible infirmities
assisted with his credibility.

In his sixth semester of study, Ahmed's counselor called him for
a conference. Beside his counselor was another man, Beni Farja-
ni, from the government. Beni was garbed in Arab robes and tur-
bans that always look filthy. Still, he was the officious type,
formal and somber. His long white hair snuck through the turban,
and his face shoed ample wrinkles of wisdom.

He and the Counselor sat alone, on one side of a large wooden
conference table that could easily have seated 20. Ahmed
stopped his motorized wheel chair at the table, Farjani spoke,
and curiously, the Counselor rose from his chair and slipped out
of the room. Ahmed and the Government official were alone.

"My name is Beni Farjani, Associate Director to the Undersecre-
tary of Communications and Propaganda. I trust you are well."

Ahmed long since gave up commenting on his well being or lack
thereof. "It is good to meet you, sir." He waited for more.

"Ahmed Shah, you are important to the state and the people of
Iran." Farjani said it as though his comment was already common
knowledge. "What I am here to ask you, Ahmed Shah, is, are you
willing again to serve Allah?"

"Yes, of course . . .?" He bowed his head in reverence.

"Good, because we think that you might be able to assist on a
small project we have been contemplating. My son, you have the
gift of oration, speaking, moving crowds to purpose. I only
wish I had it!" Beni Farjani smiled solemnly at Ahmed.

"I thank Allah for His gift. I am only the humble conduit for
his Will."

"I understand, but you have now, and will have much to proud of.
I believe you graduate in 6 months. Is that correct?"

"Yes, and then I go to Graduate School . . ."

"I am afraid that won't be possible Ahmed Shah." Farjani shook a
kindly wrinkled finger at him. "As soon as you graduate, your
Government, at Allah's bidding, would like you to move to the
United States."

"America?" Ahmed gaped in surprise.

"We fear that America may invade Iran, that we may go to war with
the United States." The words stunned Ahmed. Could he be
serious? Sure, relations were in pretty bad shape, but was
Farjani saying that Iran was truly preparing for War? Jihad?
Holy War against the United States?

"We need to protect ourselves," Farjani spoke calmly, with au-
thority. "America has weapons of mass destruction that can reach
our land in minutes, while we have nothing to offer in retalia-
tion. Nothing, and that is a very frightening reality that the
people of Iran must live with every day. A truly helpless feel-
ing." Ahmed was listening carefully, and so far what he heard
was making a great deal of sense.

"Both the Soviets and the Americans can destroy each other and
the rest of the world with a button. Their armies will never
meet. A few missiles and it's all over. A 30 minute grand
finale to civilization. They don't have to, nor would we expect
either the Soviets or the Americans to ask the rest of the world
if they mind. They just go ahead and pull the trigger and every-
one else be damned.

"And yes, there have been better times when our nation has had
more friends, when all Arabs thought and acted as one; especially
against the Americans. They have the most to gain and the most
to lose from invading and crossing our borders. They would love
nothing more than to steal our land, our oil and even take over
OPEC. All in the name of world stability. They'll throw around
National Security smoke screens and do what they want." Farjani
was speaking quite excitedly.

Ahmed was fascinated. A man from the Government who was nearly
as vitriolic as he was about America. The only difference was
Ahmed wanted to attack, and Farjani wanted to defend. He didn't
think it opportune to interrupt. Farjani continued.

"The Russians want us as a warm water port. They have enough
oil, gas and resources, but they crave a port that isn't con-
trolled by the Americans such as in the Black Sea and through the
Hellespont. So they too, are a potential enemy. You see don't
you, Ahmed, that Allah has so graced our country everyone else
wants to take it away from us?" Ahmed nodded automatically.

"So we need to create a defense against outside aggressors. We
do not have weapons that can reach American shores, that is so.
But we have something that the Americans will never have, because
they will never understand. Do you know what that is?"

Before Ahmed could answer, Farjani continued.

"Honor and Faith to protect our heritage, our systems, our way
of life." Ahmed agreed.

"We want you, Ahmed Shah to build a network of supporters, just
like you, all across the United States that will come to our
service when we need them. To the death. Your skills will
capture the attention of those with kindred sentiments. You will
draw them out, from the schools, from the universities.

"Ahmed Shah, there are over 100,000 Irani and Arab students in
the United States today. Many, many of them are sympathetic to
our causes. Many of them are attending American Universities,
side by side with their future enemies, learning the American
way so we may better fight it. You will become one of them and
you will find others that can be trusted, counted on, depended
upon when we call.

"Your obvious dedication and personal tragedies," Farjani pointed
at the obvious affliction, "will be the glue to provide others
with strength. You will have no problems in recruiting. That
will be the easy part."

"If recruiting is so easy, then what will be the hard task?"

"Holding them back. You will find it most difficult to restrain
your private army from striking. Right under the American's
noses, you will have to keep them from bursting at the seams
until the day comes when they are needed. If could be weeks, it
could be years. We don't know. Maybe the day will never come.
But it is your job to build this Army. Grow it, feed it and
keep our national spirit alive until such time that it becomes
necessary to defend our nation, Allah and loyal Muslims every-
where. This time, though, we will fight America from within,
inside her borders.

"There hasn't been a foreign war on American soil since 1812.
Americans don't know what is like to have their country ruined,
ravaged, blown up before their eyes. We need a defense against
America, and when it is deeded by Allah, our army will strike
back at America where is hurts most. In the streets of their
cities. In their homes, parks and schools. But first we must
have that army. In place, and willing to act.

"You will find out all the details in good time, I assure you.
You will require some training, though, and that will begin
shortly. Everything you need to serve will be given you. Go with
Allah.

Ahmed trained for several months with the infamous terrorist
group Abu Nidal. He learned the basics that every modern terror-
ist needs to know to insure success against the Infidels.

Shah moved to New York City on December 25, 1986. Christmas was
a non issue. He registered at Columbia as a graduate researcher
in the engineering department to legitimize his student visa and
would commence classes on January 2.

Recruitment was easy, just as Farjani had said.

Ahmed built a team of 12 recruiters whom he could trust with his
life. Seven professional terrorists, unknown to the American
authorities, thoroughly sanitized, came with him to the United
States under assumed visas and the other 5, already in the
country were personally recommended by Farjani.

His disciples were located in strategic locations; New York was
host to Ahmed and another Arab fanatic trained in Libya. They
both used Columbia University as their cover. Washington D.C.
was honored with a Syrian terrorist who had organized mass anti-
US demonstrations in Damascus as the request of President Assad.
Los Angeles and San Francisco were homes to 4 more engineering
type desert terrorist school graduates who were allowed to move
freely and interact with the shakers and movers in high technolo-
gy disciplines. Miami, Atlanta, Chicago, Boston, and Dallas were
also used as recruitment centers for developing Ahmed's personal
army.

If the media had been aware of the group's activities they would
have made note that Ahmed's inner circle were very highly skilled
not only in the use of C4 and Cemex, the Czechoslovakian plastic
explosive that was responsible for countless deaths of innocent
bystanders, but that were all very well educated. Each spoke
English like a native, fluent in colloquialisms and idioms unique
to America.

Much of his army had skills which enabled them to acquire posi-
tions of importance within engineering departments of companies
such as IBM, Apple, Hughes Defense Systems, Chase Manhattan,
Prudential Life, Martin Marietta, Westinghouse, Compuserve, MCI
and hundreds of similar organizations. Every one of their em-
ployers would have attested to their skills, honor and loyalty to
their adapted country. Ahmed's group was well versed in decep-
tion. After all, they answered to a greater cause.

What even a seasoned reporter might not find out though, was that
all 12 of Ahmed's elite recruiters had to pass a supreme test
often required by international political terrorist organiza-
tions. To guarantee their loyalty to the cause, whatever that
cause might be, and to weed out potential external infiltrators,
each member had to have killed at least one member of their
immediate family.

It requires extraordinary hardening, to say the least, to kill
your mother or father. Or to blow up the school bus that carried
your pre-teen sister to school. Or engage your brother in a mock
fight and then sever his head from his body. The savagery that
permitted one access into this elite circle is beyond the compre-
hension of most Western minds. Yet such acts were expected to
demonstrate one's loyalty to a supreme purpose or belief.

The events surrounding Solman Rushdie and the Satanic Verses were
a case in point. Each of those who volunteered to assassinate
him at the bequest of the Ayatollah Khomeini had in fact already
killed not only innocent women and children in order to reach
their assigned terrorist targets, but had brought the head of
their family victim to the table of their superiors. A deed for
which they were honored and revered.

These were the men, all of them men, who pledged allegiance to
Ahmed Shah and the unknown, undefined assignments they would in
the future be asked to complete. To the death if necessary, and
without fear. These men were reminiscent of the infamous moles
that Stalin's Soviet Empire had placed throughout the United
Kingdom and the United States in the 1930's to be awakened at
some future date to carry out strikes against the enemy from
within. The only difference with Ahmed's men was that they were
trained to die, not to survive. And unlike their Mole counter-
parts, they were awake the entire time, focused on their mission.
Clearly it was only a matter of time before they would be asked
to follow orders with blind obedience. Their only reward was a
place in the Muslim heaven.

Meanwhile, while awaiting sainthood, their task was to find
others with similar inclinations, or those who could be corralled
into their system of beliefs. It was unrealistic, they knew, to
expect to find an entire army of sympathizers who would fight to
the death or perform suicide missions in the name of Allah. But
they found it was very easy to find many men, never women, who
would follow orders and perform the tasks of an underground
infantryman.

The mass influx of Arabs into the United States was another great
mistake of the Reagan '80's as it opened its doors to a future
enemy. The immigration policy of the U.S. was the most open in
the entire world. So, the Government allowed the entry of some
of the world's most dangerous people into the country, and then
gave them total freedom, with its associated anonymity. Such
things could never happen at home, Ahmed thought. We love our
land too much to permit our enemies on our soil. It is so much
easier to dispose of them before they can cause damage.

So the thinking went, and Ahmed and his cadre platooned them-
selves often, in any of the thousands of American resort complex-
es, unnoticed, to gauge the progress of their assignments.