Chapter 8

VASILLA MEETS WITH KHOZEM

17th of Safar 1436

(December 10, 2014)

In the home high in the Meccan hills Khozem received a call from Vasilla in the middle of the night.

“Your holiness, I’m so sorry to wake you,” said Vasilla.

“What is it? Why are you disturbing me?” replied Khozem drowsily.

“Your holiness, he knows. The whole mosque knows. Word is spreading.”

“What are you talking about, Vasilla? Can’t this wait until morning?”

“I thought I’d call you right away, your holiness.”

“Who knows? And who is ‘he?’”

“The Imam, your holiness.”

“What?!” yelled Khozem, more awake.

“The Imam, your holiness. He knows, everyone knows.”

“How the hell does he know?”

“His mother told him.”

“His mother? Well then how did the rest of the mosque find out?”

After a moment of silence, Vasilla told him about the outburst.

“Oh dear, Vasilla. Oh dear.”

“The whole mosque follows him. The amilsaab, especially. He let him speak to the entire mosque.”

“What did he say?”

“He used words like ‘Peace’ and ‘Absolute love,’ and how we should, well, love the Jew as much as we love ourselves.”

“Oh dear, Vasilla...”

“People are talking, your holiness. People will follow him...”

“But why will they follow him? He might be some crackpot. Why did people listen to him?”

“I ... I don’t know,” lied Vasilla, “but people believe in him. He gave an entire speech to a mosque already divided. At first half the mosque liked the amilsaab, and half did not, but now that the Imam has spoken, they are all following him.”

“Vasilla, how many are following him?”

“The entire mosque.”

“How many, Vasilla?! Be specific!”

“I would estimate one hundred, maybe one hundred and fifty people, your holiness.”

“Okay, it’s time for containment. This is what I want, and we have to act quickly. You must prepare him for a trip to Mecca. I want you and the Imam on the next flight out.”

“What if he doesn’t want to go?”

“Persuade him, Vasilla. Say to him that he must if he’s a true Imam. He’ll accompany you to Mecca.”

“He’s too stubborn. He won’t journey to Mecca just for the sake of journeying.”

“We must bring him here. This must be done. Tell him that he must involve himself in his own culture.”

“Or even meet his real parents.”

“Perfect! Vasilla, that’s perfect, you genius! Tell him that he’ll meet his real parents. He will definitely come. Yes, that’s what my father was saying: ‘To adopt the West like a bastard son.’ Okay, Vasilla, bring him to me on the first flight. Bring him directly to me.”

“Yes, your holiness.”

Immediately after hanging up the phone, Khozem called Asif Mohammed, his Advisor of Executions.