THE BROTHERHOOD (3 page)

Chapter 2

Aazim went along to the discussions at the mosque for a month after his first introduction to Sam. He did so because of the job offer and as a favour to his friend Rami, but he also found the debates stimulating; the young men there all had such interesting stories to tell. One of them had come from Pakistan and gave a lecture on life in remote regions bordering Afghanistan.

‘The Americans call the Taliban terrorists – does that mean the man cutting your hair is a terrorist? If that’s so then the man fixing your shoes is one too, and the tailor and the goat-herder and the butcher and his children, yet they don’t all carry a weapon. They’re all Taliban and they practise the strictest interpretation of
sharia
law, the truest form. The Americans, my friends, will never win the war. They’re not fighting terrorists but ordinary people who are willing to die for Islam.’

The man had spoken with passion; he was one of many who contributed to the fiery atmosphere.

‘How do we get rid of the invaders?’ someone called out.

‘Give me a Kalashnikov, brother, and I will show you the answer!’ the Pakistani had replied.

There was a murmur of voices and gleaming faces nodded.

‘If I forced myself into your home and told you how to run your house would you get down on your knees and obey your master like a good dog?’ the man asked.

Rami looked at Aazim and saw a frown on his friend’s face. ‘You don’t agree?’ he asked curiously.

‘It’s not as simple as that,’ Aazim replied.

‘Islam is a submission to Allah and it’s what makes us Muslims. The Taliban fight to keep their way of life, which they believe is the true practice of Islam. They won’t submit to anyone, and invaders have come and gone many times before,’ Rami explained.

‘I can’t relate to these people in Afghanistan, it’s not my fight,’ Aazim said.

‘Isn’t it? The hit-and-run driver that killed your mother, didn’t the police say it was a hate crime?’ Rami persisted.

‘They suspect it may have been. What’re you saying?’ Aazim asked defensively, pained to be reminded of his mother.

‘Hasn’t the fight come to you? Many in this country despise us,’ Rami said.  

Aazim shifted uncomfortably. ‘I don’t like the ignorance and attacks against Muslims but I’m not about to buy a Kalashnikov.’

‘What is it you think you’ll find here at the mosque?’

Aazim searched for words. ‘I guess I just came to learn more.’

‘About what?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Why now? What is it you expect to learn?’ Rami prodded.

‘I don’t know, Rami,’ Aazim said, his voice rising in anger.

‘What do you feel when you come here?’

‘Why are you asking me all this? I’m not happy, okay?’ He stared at Rami, his eyes welling up. ‘I need to understand what’s happening in my life. I had a relationship with a girl that fell apart and I don’t know why my mother was brutally killed and I can’t even speak to my father about it.’

‘It’s normal to feel lost, Az,’ Rami said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘Many of us here have felt like that.’

‘Why was she killed?’ Aazim sobbed quietly.

‘I know you hurt, brother, and your faith can help heal your pain. Open your heart and surrender your will to the will of the only true god and you will learn your place in this world so you may ensure it in the next one. We, these people here, can help you get there. I know you miss your mother and I’m here for you as a friend and a brother. Here you will find a family you can draw strength from and find your answers. You will learn how to deal with it.’

Aazim gave him a sincere smile. ‘Thanks, Cookie Man. Thanks for being there for me.’

They stood up and hugged, then turned their attention back to the debate.

It wasn’t long before the job prospect, which had initially drawn Aazim to the mosque, became irrelevant. He continued to attend because the debates and prayers had become consoling, and because he enjoyed the camaraderie with his fellow Muslims. One evening as he turned to Rami for a quick goodbye he caught sight of Sam sitting on his own, looking over in his direction. Sam gave him a smile and gestured towards the exit door. Aazim headed for the car park, where they greeted each other and Sam apologised profusely for failing to appear since their last meeting. No explanation was given but Aazim accepted the man’s apology. They made small talk, commenting on the beautiful warm night as insects buzzed around the street lamps.

‘Do you like this mosque, Aazim?’ Sam asked.

‘Yes, I think it’s beautiful. I especially love the Persian carpets. Each detail seems so precise and perfect.’

‘Ah, but there’s a slight detail you miss,’ Sam said. ‘Every one of those carpets has an intentional flaw in its making. A cut corner or an unfinished edge, just a slight mistake to symbolise that only Allah is perfect.’

‘I never knew that,’ Aazim said, not hiding his surprise. ‘There’s a lot I don’t know about Islam, I must admit.’

‘Well, you’ve come to the right place to learn. This is not just a mosque but a house of knowledge. Then again, this house can only be as great as the people inside it.’ Sam smiled and looked Aazim in the eye, as if waiting for a response.

‘I’m amazed how organised everything seems to be,’ Aazim said. ‘Everyone knows their place and the order of things.’

‘Knowing our place in the world is paramount to our survival. Without it we might as well be animals,’ Sam said. Car engines started up as worshippers began to leave the mosque. ‘You’ve been sitting in those debates for some time now. Have you found your place?’

Aazim wasn’t sure how to answer. ‘You’ve been watching me?’ he asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

Sam smiled, his white teeth gleaming under the lights. ‘I’m afraid I’m too busy for that. Your friend Rami has been sharing his excitement at having you with him. He speaks rather highly of you.’

‘Yeah, just don’t touch his cookies and you’re his friend for life.’ They laughed. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure what to think. I mean, I do understand what they’re saying, but as you said yourself, the world is changing and it’s become a lot more complicated.’

‘Things are only as complicated as you allow them to be,’ Sam said quickly. ‘You make decisions in your life every day, from the time you get up in the morning until you go to bed. There is no right or wrong decision, only choices.’

‘I guess you could put it that way,’ Aazim conceded. He hadn’t expected such a deep insight from this man he hardly knew.

Sam continued. ‘What I mean is, you can make a choice to lead an ordinary life and be one more drop in the stream, or you can
be
the stream. Anyway, how about we have a chat about the job? I understand you have a bachelor’s degree in computer systems engineering.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

They discussed Aust Global Fund and the job vacancy, exchanging information about each other’s expectations and other technical details. When Aazim outlined his employment experience Sam explained that the job involved maintenance of computer hardware and applications backup of customer accounts. He stressed the need for enforcing tight security. Naturally, if Aazim was still interested, another meeting would be held at his office and a confidentiality agreement contract would be drawn up. There was no mention of any other interviews or candidates; subtle but intentional hints told Aazim the job was already his.

That night when Aazim told Ilias about the job in Aust Global Fund he was bewildered by his father’s reaction.

‘What’s wrong with your current job?’ Ilias objected.

‘I’m not happy where I am and this is a great opportunity, Aba. But I don’t get it. You and Mum both worked there, so why are you so against me taking this new job?’

‘Things have changed and the company is not the same,’ Ilias tried, wishing he could find a credible reason to dissuade his son from working at Aust Global Fund. But he knew his argument was weak, and his suspicions about Sam could never be spoken.

‘What’s changed? From what I know they run a solid ship and profits are on the rise.’

‘Please, look for a job elsewhere and promise me you won’t take this,’ Ilias said, his voice straining with tension.

‘No, I
won’t
promise,’ Aazim countered. ‘Why are you acting like this?’

‘Just do it, Aazim. I don’t want you working there and that’s it,’ Ilias snapped.

‘I need this and I owe it to my friend. I don’t know what’s got into you. I’ll do what I think is right for me.’ Aazim rose from the dinner table and left his father to ponder over the remains of the meal.

What is Sam up to? Ilias wondered. The thought of his son being within Sam’s reach was hard to take. He pushed his plate aside and walked over to Aazim’s room, knocked on the door and entered.

‘I’m not talking about it anymore, Aba, I’ve made my decision,’ Aazim said to his father standing in the doorway.

Ilias sighed. He knew he was defeated. ‘All right, okay, subject closed. But there’s something else I need to tell you. I’ve been thinking of taking a trip to Lebanon. It’s been a while and I could really use the break. Both of us need a little time on our own, I think. I’ll start planning soon.’

‘That’s great, Aba,’ Aazim said, relieved that his father had moved on from the previous conversation. When his mother was alive Aazim had tried to convince his parents to visit the old country and he was glad his father was finally going to do it. Ilias returned the smile and left Aazim alone.

Chapter 3

Aust Global Fund occupied a fairly new office building but the business itself had been established for over twenty years and dealt with various forms of financial services and loan provisions, structured finance, corporate and investment banking, and insurance. The client base was domestic and international, with many investment projects overseen in developing countries. Sam constantly travelled overseas to Pakistan and Syria, and he later ventured into Afghanistan, believing there was an opportunity to get in first and establish a base before the country boomed.

There were around one hundred and fifty staff members and eight comprised the IT department. Aazim was happy handling the latest technology the company had invested in. In his experience, a lot of companies seemed to cut corners, retaining old, inferior equipment and constantly applying band-aid solutions. What they didn’t realise was how much the business depended on IT in the age of technology. In Aazim’s view, keeping ahead with the latest was the key to ensuring smooth operations and minimum impact to the business.

After a few months at Aust Global Fund, Aazim had settled in and his hard work was beginning to pay off. He made new friends, and although he kept in touch with Rami he didn’t see him outside the mosque gatherings. He began learning his religion like a toddler: from the beginning, taking in everything like a sponge. He observed religious dates strictly, refrained from drinking alcohol, and was aware that gambling was off limits, not that he was interested in this anyway. Aazim was beginning to accept his mother’s death as God’s will, and this eased his pain.

Ilias, on the other hand, began noticing changes in Aazim that disturbed him. Conversation between the two had deteriorated and they didn’t even eat dinner together anymore. One day Ilias walked past Aazim’s bedroom and heard noises. He opened the door slightly and was surprised to see his son on his knees, wearing a skullcap and praying. No one in their family had been that religious, and to Ilias it was another sign of the widening gap between him and his son.

Aazim had met the other server specialist in his department, Kareem, who had the same domain administrator access to the network environment as Aazim. Kareem also had a Middle Eastern background; there were only a handful of Muslims in the company but each held a key position in senior management or IT.

Aazim knew that Kareem had been a colleague of his parents because he had heard them mention him, but he had never met him until now. He remembered his mother speaking highly of Kareem’s work ethic and loyalty to the company. According to his mother, Kareem was ‘a man who could be trusted’. Although he and Aazim were the same age, Kareem appeared to Aazim to be much older. He was withdrawn and nervous, and he worked long into the evening after everyone else had finished their shifts. 

Aazim found it odd that no one mentioned the previous employee who’d held Aazim’s current job. The man must have left under some cloud, Aazim assumed, and he now faced unfinished projects with hardly any of the relevant information to complete them. Whenever he asked Kareem about his predecessor, his colleague always turned to work matters or nervously excused himself and left the room.

Aazim asked Sam casually one day why the job had become vacant.

‘Your predecessor was offered a job by a competitor,’ Sam said, shrugging. ‘It’s a shame because he was a good technician. But anybody would do the same for the right money, I guess.’

One early morning, just as Aazim arrived at work, Kareem burst through the office doors and rushed over to him, stopping only centimetres from his face. He looked exhausted and scared. He was dressed in the same clothes he’d been wearing the previous day and it was obvious to Aazim that he had been working through the night. Being the only ones in the office at that time of the morning, they had to ensure all systems were up and running before business started. Kareem’s pasty skin and bloodshot eyes told Aazim it was going to be a busy day.

‘I … I have … I have to tell you something, Aazim, something very important,’ Kareem stammered. His whole body was shaking.

‘What’s wrong, Kareem? What’s happened?’ Aazim said, thinking that Kareem took technical problems a little too personally.

‘No, Aazim, I … I … damn!’ Cursing in frustration, Kareem took a deep breath and tried again. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

‘I found something on the AccountsClass01 server in the data centre and … and I want you to take a look at it. Aazim, it’s very important. I used the Oracle algorithm to get it and …’ He struggled to string together a sentence, his words making no sense to Aazim. ‘I don’t have time to speak to your –’