Chapter 35

December Twenty-fourth
1:00 p.m. EST
9:00 p.m. local time

Abdul-Azid stretched and exited the plane into the King Abdulaziz International Airport of Mecca. His frustration over the long delay resulting from some sort of engine problem faded immediately as his feet touched the ground at the outskirts of the most holy of cities. His feeling of tranquility deepened as he bathed, trimmed his nails, and shaved his head: the ritual cleansing that marked the start of his pilgrimage.

Finally, in Ihram dress, the white, seamless, two-piece garment required to be worn by all pilgrims to the city, whether they were there for Umrah, the minor pilgrimage, like he was, or Hajj, the major pilgrimage, which he had missed by less than a month, he began the long trek to his accommodations near al-Masjid al-Haram, the Grand Mosque in which he would continue his pilgrimage the following morning by circling the Kaaba.

He could have taken one of the city's many private taxis, but walking the very ground that Muhammad had trod upon roughly thirteen hundred years before filled him with too much awe and reverence to choose any other means of transportation. As he walked, he found himself gawking like a child: the city had grown so much since his youth and even since his last pilgrimage several years before.

The huge clock atop the recently completed Abraj Al-Bait Towers read well after midnight when he drew close to his destination. He had stopped to chat and pray with several of his fellow pilgrims when the squeal of tires drew their attention.

A large tractor trailer, one of the endless streams of trucks that brought food and goods to the residents and pilgrims in the city, had come to a stop near the Grand Mosque. The doors of the cargo container that it pulled on a flatbed were flung open from the inside and men boiled out into the street. Seconds later, he saw the muzzle flashes and heard the chatter of assault rifles.

He and the other pilgrims stood stunned. Who could possibly do violence here among pilgrims who had forsworn fighting? At first, it didn't occur to any of them that outsiders could be involved: the city was closed to non-Muslims by law. The armed men quickly spread out, firing their weapons and throwing Molotov cocktails. Flames erupted from the sides of the buildings leading to the Grand Mosque.

Outraged, Abdul and the other pilgrims nevertheless held to the strictures against violence and merely watched as other disturbances broke out across the city. The clocks atop the tallest of the Abraj Al-Bait Towers exploded outward in a blossom of flame. Less than a block away, one of the men from the truck opened fire on a group of pilgrims.

Without weapons they could do nothing to defend themselves. Nearly as one, they turned to run. Even as they did so, a second group of men rushed down the street to fall upon another cluster of recently arrived pilgrims, beating them with fists and crude weapons. Abdul was astonished to see that the second group of attackers was composed almost entirely of Saudi's; his own countrymen!

Hearing gunfire behind him, he spun to see one of the men from the truck rushing toward him. The light from one of the street lamps fell on the man's face, and, suddenly, all became clear.

"The Israeli's are attacking!" he shouted. "The Jews are desecrating the city!"

His words cut off as bright red flowers blossomed across the pristine white of his Ihram clothing, but they were picked up by others who were nearby and quickly spread across the Muslim world.