leaned over his Toshiba laptop and tapped the space bar bringing the screen to life. Although the manifesto’s words were already deeply ensconced in his mind Yousef elected to read from the computer, the confidence in his voice testament to his commitment to their cause. ‘Citizens of the United States and those who support that government will be our future targets for they are responsible for their government’s actions and the USA’s foreign policy’ he declared. ‘We will destroy all American nuclear targets and, should that government continue to support Israel, then we will continue to carry out operations inside and outside the United States to include…’ A knock brought the room to silence as a maid attempted to unlock the double-bolted door. Yousef raised a finger to his lips and slowly shook his head.
‘Mister Haddad, are you there?’ the Filipino maid inquired, still challenging the lock as she was not expecting any response. ‘May I change the linen today?’
Ahmed Saeed’s eyes panicked their way around the room. Bundles of soaked cotton lay scattered around the single-bed bachelor apartment, a pungent odour permeating the scene. Various sized plastic, chemical containers with German and Pakistani stamps of origin lay scattered everywhere, the loops of electrical wiring and dozens of Casio wristwatches all conspicuous signs of the tenants’ handicraft, obvious to even an ama-teur’s passing observation. He moved anxiously, throwing soiled sheets over the explosive material, cursing his ill fortune when he inadvertently knocked an opened bottle of Chivas Regal against the bedside lamp sending both crashing to the floor.
‘No!’ Yousef shouted, immediately regretting the forcefulness of his reply. ‘Leave the linen outside. I will change the bedding myself, later.’ He waved furiously at the other two men to rectify the situation, shocked when smoke appeared from somewhere under the bed.
‘I am sorry to have disturbed you, sir,’ the maid apologized, ‘my manager Miss Guerrera thought you had gone out.’
Ahmed fell to his knees to determine the seriousness of the accident and how quickly the alcohol-fueled fire was spreading.
‘Put it out, now!’ Wali Khan Amin Shah hissed, ‘before she calls security.’
Outside in the hallway the maid stopped, tilted her head questioningly and sniffed the air, alarmed when smoke appeared from under the door. ‘Mister Haddad, Mister Haddad,’ the woman yelled, ‘there’s smoke coming from your room!’ Suddenly she was afraid, recalling such fire traps as the Filipinas Hotel when flames engulfed the hotel trapping many of the guests, the huge death toll causing an even greater decline in the deteriorating number of tourist arrivals.
By now Yousef had filled the rubbish bucket with water from the bathroom and flushed the area directly under the bed.
To their great relief, the flames died almost instantly, Yousef returning to the bathroom to refill the bucket.
‘It’s okay,’ Ahmed looked up at Amin Shah, ‘we have it under control.’
Again the maid called. ‘Is there a fire in your room Mister Haddad?’ now less concerned when she could see that the smoke had ceased.
‘Just a cigarette burning in the waste paper basket.’ Yousef assured as he emptied the second load onto the now saturated carpet. The fire appeared to have died. ‘There’s nothing for you to worry about.’ Yousef pulled a hundred pesos from his pocket and unlocked the door, his frame hiding the view inside. ‘I will clean up the mess. Here, let me have the fresh linen.’ He smiled and passed the tip to the maid who surrendered the bedding, shrugged and went on her way.
Back inside the room Yousef and Ahmed examined the burnt carpet, all present sending a silent prayer that exposure had been avoided.
‘I must leave. I agreed to catch up with Khalid,’ Amin Shah announced. ‘We’ll meet here again tomorrow, in the afternoon.’
Yousef smiled knowingly at Ahmed. Both men accepted that Amin Shah would not be rendezvousing with Khalid Shaikh Mohammed but with Arminda Costudio, a Filipino waitress who worked at the Manila Bay Club on Roxas Boule-vard. Arminda had captured Shah’s attention from the moment he had set eyes upon her.
With Amin safely out of the room Ahmed raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you think he knows?’
Yousef snorted. ‘That Arminda Costudio is also sleeping with my uncle?’ He shook his head. ‘Nothing to be gained in his knowing this.’
Ahmed refused to let it go. ‘You don’t think this Filipino whore could jeopardize the operation?’
Yousef ’s face clouded at the suggestion. ‘Khalid is not one to cross. Leave it be.’
Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, the mastermind of the Bojinka operation who had been appointed by Osama bin Laden to command al-Qaeda’s worldwide military operations was number three in the terrorist hierarchy, and was currently in residence just across the road. Ironically, Khalid’s lavish apartment was juxtaposed to a dwelling occupied by a future Philippines president. Armed with an American education courtesy of the Baptist Chowan College in North Carolina and, later, the North Carolina Agriculture and Technical State University, Khalid had developed a most un-Islamic, Western disposition for go-go bars, karaoke clubs and hard alcohol. Khalid resolutely believed that everyone but him should faithfully observe the rigid tenets of Islam.
Whilst in the Philippines he traveled extensively visiting countries as distant as Brazil, his lavish lifestyle a cover for the Malaysian company he promoted, Konsojaya Sdn Bhd which covertly funded and trained militant Islamic groups such as the Abu Sayyaf and MILF in the country’s restive, deep south. On occasions, the flamboyant Mohammed would arrange scuba diving excursions with Yousef, these merely a cover for journeys to isolated areas where they would meet with separatist groups to discuss strategies. Both Khalid and Yousef respected the Abu Sayyaf whose leaders had acquired their battle experience in the mountains and deserts of Afghanistan, courtesy of the CIA. Khalid and Yousef had listened to the camp-fire portrayals of how many of the eight hundred Filipino Muslim Mujahideen who had been recruited, trained and paid by the CIA to fight the U.S.-sponsored war in Afghanistan for a few dollars per day, fought against the finest of Russia’s forces. Then, after the Soviet withdrawal, how these guerrilla-trained Filipinos returned home bringing with them not only military expertise, but a deeply-ingrained appreciation of Islamic fundamentalism – Khalid surprised to learn that many now embraced the ultra-conservative Islamic ideology of “Wahabi” which was rapidly spreading across Malaysia, Indonesia and the southern Philippines.
The Malaysia companies’ registry would show that Khalid owned half of Konsojaya Sdn Bhd’s shares – the other half being owned by his partner, Riduan Isamuddin, an Indonesian who lived in exile hiding from the clutches of President Suharto’s regime.
Shah and Yousef had already tested their deadly explosives over the previous month. Shah had experimented by placing a bomb under a seat in the Greenbelt Theatre in Manila on December 1st to determine if a similar quantity of explosives would be adequate for under an airline seat. The detonation had left a number of injured. Then, on 11th December Yousef placed a device under his seat, 27F, on Philippine Airlines Flight 434 before alighting from a flight into Cebu. This flight was scheduled to continue on to Manila and then Narita in Japan. He had set the timer to detonate hours ahead and, when this did eventuate, the bomb exploded over Minami Daito Island near Okinawa killing a Japanese businessman and injuring ten others. Incredibly, the Boeing 747 landed safely, however
Yousef ’s experiment provided him with sufficient knowledge to develop the secondary phase in Operation Bojinka.
Ahmed checked the charred carpet again then
