Read Online Joint Task Force #4: Africa by David E. Meadows - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David E. Meadows
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catches us—unless we leave. There is no ‘if’ in this statement, only a ‘when.’”
“The children of Islam should be available now.” Abu Alhaul motioned to the man immediately behind him. The thin, young man stepped forward pushing the flowing robe ofa desert Bedouin out of the way. In many places the robe was torn and stained. A dark red patch showed where someone had bled. A dirty white patch covered a wound on the man’s cheek. “They are the weapons we have built through years of prayer and study. Let me see—”
Abu Alhaul snapped his fingers. The man handed his leader a thick notebook. Abu Alhaul took the notebook and as if he had all the time in the world, he thumbed through page after page of Arabic script, stopping every so often to run his finger along a line. Abdo stood silent as his brother, once again, tried to identify the locations of Jihadist schools where his followers took children as students and turned them into future martyrs for Allah.
“So many,” Abu Alhaul muttered.
“So few,” Abdo corrected. “Everywhere you worked these past five years to turn Africa into a Muslim continent is being eaten by this General Ojo. Religion and politics can never defeat nationalism regardless of how hard we try. Abu Alhaul—Asim, my brother—it is time to leave this dark—” He slapped his fleshy upper arm, glancing to see what had bitten him. “—insect-ridden country to those who want it. We never should—”
Abu Alhaul held his hand up. “Enough. Don’t say it. We came here because Allah commanded it.”
“Then Allah must have seen the consequences, and His greater plans call for you to fail. Your failure is Allah’s victory,” Abdo said, his tone sharp. “I’m telling you as one who loves you. Now, let’s go home and celebrate His wisdom.”
“The problem is not Allah’s. It is ours. We who lead the holy jihad expect instantaneous results.” He threw his arms apart as if simulating an explosion. “What we needed was to increase our patience to reap a bigger result that takes more time for the enemy to realize he’s been attacked. But, I failed Him. Instead of concentrating on the jihad, I allowedpersonal vengeance in seeking out the American who killed my family to shadow my true purpose. I have failed Him, and to fail Him is to die in his service.”
“Do you think He can wait until we’re close enough for a proper funeral? Ask Him if it is possible for you to stay because your brother wants you to live because he loves you. Tell Him you are prepared to serve Him another day but right now you’d like to have a hot bath, return to Egypt, sit at the sidewalk café near home, and watch the tourists being fleeced of their dollars. I think He’d understand.” He pointed north and sighed. “I have always done what you asked. Now, you will follow me. Your safety is my life, and to live we take the northern trail. For the time, you will have to abandon the dream of an Islamic Africa.”
“I can never do that! You make small talk of Allah and His wrath is something to behold, for I am the wielder of His wrath.”
Fierce eyes stopped Abdo for a moment before he turned his head away from his brother. “Have you thought that maybe one of your sons is to finish what you started?”
“I have no sons.”
He faced his brother again. “And you won’t, if we don’t turn north and leave the battlefield to the Africans. Let them rid the continent of the Westerners, which will make your son’s job easier.”
Abu Alhaul weighed his brother’s words as if weighing his thoughts.
“Maybe Allah is speaking through your brother, telling you to live to fight another day.”
“This is a test by Allah to see if I will follow His word even when my family attempts to sway me in another direction.”
Abdo shook his head. He wanted to reach out and slaphis brother, but even he had doubts if being blood kin would stop this man he once chased through the streets of their village
“The children of Islam should be available now.” Abu Alhaul motioned to the man immediately behind him. The thin, young man stepped forward pushing the flowing robe ofa desert Bedouin out of the way. In many places the robe was torn and stained. A dark red patch showed where someone had bled. A dirty white patch covered a wound on the man’s cheek. “They are the weapons we have built through years of prayer and study. Let me see—”
Abu Alhaul snapped his fingers. The man handed his leader a thick notebook. Abu Alhaul took the notebook and as if he had all the time in the world, he thumbed through page after page of Arabic script, stopping every so often to run his finger along a line. Abdo stood silent as his brother, once again, tried to identify the locations of Jihadist schools where his followers took children as students and turned them into future martyrs for Allah.
“So many,” Abu Alhaul muttered.
“So few,” Abdo corrected. “Everywhere you worked these past five years to turn Africa into a Muslim continent is being eaten by this General Ojo. Religion and politics can never defeat nationalism regardless of how hard we try. Abu Alhaul—Asim, my brother—it is time to leave this dark—” He slapped his fleshy upper arm, glancing to see what had bitten him. “—insect-ridden country to those who want it. We never should—”
Abu Alhaul held his hand up. “Enough. Don’t say it. We came here because Allah commanded it.”
“Then Allah must have seen the consequences, and His greater plans call for you to fail. Your failure is Allah’s victory,” Abdo said, his tone sharp. “I’m telling you as one who loves you. Now, let’s go home and celebrate His wisdom.”
“The problem is not Allah’s. It is ours. We who lead the holy jihad expect instantaneous results.” He threw his arms apart as if simulating an explosion. “What we needed was to increase our patience to reap a bigger result that takes more time for the enemy to realize he’s been attacked. But, I failed Him. Instead of concentrating on the jihad, I allowedpersonal vengeance in seeking out the American who killed my family to shadow my true purpose. I have failed Him, and to fail Him is to die in his service.”
“Do you think He can wait until we’re close enough for a proper funeral? Ask Him if it is possible for you to stay because your brother wants you to live because he loves you. Tell Him you are prepared to serve Him another day but right now you’d like to have a hot bath, return to Egypt, sit at the sidewalk café near home, and watch the tourists being fleeced of their dollars. I think He’d understand.” He pointed north and sighed. “I have always done what you asked. Now, you will follow me. Your safety is my life, and to live we take the northern trail. For the time, you will have to abandon the dream of an Islamic Africa.”
“I can never do that! You make small talk of Allah and His wrath is something to behold, for I am the wielder of His wrath.”
Fierce eyes stopped Abdo for a moment before he turned his head away from his brother. “Have you thought that maybe one of your sons is to finish what you started?”
“I have no sons.”
He faced his brother again. “And you won’t, if we don’t turn north and leave the battlefield to the Africans. Let them rid the continent of the Westerners, which will make your son’s job easier.”
Abu Alhaul weighed his brother’s words as if weighing his thoughts.
“Maybe Allah is speaking through your brother, telling you to live to fight another day.”
“This is a test by Allah to see if I will follow His word even when my family attempts to sway me in another direction.”
Abdo shook his head. He wanted to reach out and slaphis brother, but even he had doubts if being blood kin would stop this man he once chased through the streets of their village
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