A/N: Out of respect for the tragedy, no victim or victim's family member will be named. The hijacker is to remain anonymous as well for plot purposes, but it is not Muhammad Atta or the other man who took control of the plane. The character of Hassan, who is entirely fictional, is not involved in the attacks as a victim or perpetrator, thus he will be named. This is
NOT against Islam, it's against terrorism.
Reminiscences of a Hijacker, a Father, and a Brother
07:15 Tuesday, September 11th, 2001, Logan Intl Airport, Boston, MA
He sat there at Gate B32, oblivious to the bustling of life and animated conversations resounding throughout the airport. After nearly ten years of preparing and planning, today was the day it was going to be carried out. Despite the lively cacophony, all he could hear was his own breath and feel the weight of what was about to take place. Shifting his gaze around the area, he surveyed his fellow passengers waiting to board the Boeing 767 outside.
He noted a young couple across from him, the woman sleeping on her lover's shoulder while the man simply gazed sleepily ahead of him. Another group was of a family with small children playing excitedly, business travelers, elderly…all sorts of people who were about to embark on their last flight. Lastly, he met the eyes of his partners. Their leader, Muhammad Atta was absentmindedly praying, making himself right with Allah before carrying out His will. The others were sitting there just as lost as he was. How did it come to this, the man wondered. At one time, he had hopes of teaching math to high school students back home in Jeddah, and now, here he was in America carrying out an important mission planned out thoroughly by Usama bin Laden and Khalid Sheikh Muhammad themselves. It was a mission that would shake the foundation of the world forever.
Sighing, the man slumped back in his chair, remembering a time when everything was so much brighter. He remembered Jeddah, and the modest house in which he lived with his parents and brothers. He remembered the palm trees, the park where he would play soccer and fish with his oldest brother, Hassan. Being the youngest child in the family, he naturally formed a bond with the oldest one, whom he saw as a second father. Life in Saudi Arabia was better than anything that he could ask for. However, the situation in the neighboring Muslim countries grew worse and worse. In Iraq, the Americans were threatening the rule of Saddam Hussein, in Palestine, the Israeli occupation were tightening their hold over the land, and worst of all, other Muslim countries did nothing to fight it.
It was when he was in the university in Riyadh, that he had become involved in protesting the injustices done by the West. In 1988, the Lion Sheikh, bin Laden, had made the declaration in his
fatwa that to kill Americans and their allies, both civilian and military is the sacred duty of every Muslim who is able. That day changed him forever, and not too long afterwards, he left his comfortable life in Saudi Arabia and joined al-Qaeda in Afghanistan, a country left in ruins by those
kuffar Russians. Bin Laden made good on his word, beginning with small attacks here and there in the early nineties. It wasn't until the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center that Khalid Sheikh Muhammad presented the idea of today's mission to bin Laden.
After many years of planning, preparations, and raising funds, the man was chosen to be one of nineteen hijackers and one additional reserve. He was so excited and proud to be a part of this mission from Allah that he had went home to tell his family. Their reactions were not what he had expected.
"This is what you've been doing all these years," his father thundered. "Associating with scum like Usama bin Laden? You're going to go kill yourself for this…this radical who distorts the name of Islam?" His mother had actually burst into tears. It is written in the Quran to respect one's parents, but Islam always came first. He was so angry that he accused his parents of being non-believers and they would one day eat their words when America has fallen. He expected his father to hit him, but instead, he calmly walked over to him, gave him a stiff embrace and told him very calmly to leave the house. He caught a glimpse of Hassan, who was now married and had two boys. His expression was one of simple disappointment. After the argument, he never saw his family again.
"Good morning," a woman's voice on the intercom rang out. "We are about to begin our primary boarding of American Airlines Flight 11, non-stop to Los Angeles. Now boarding those sitting in first and business classes, families with small children and all passengers in need of a wheelchair."
He didn't know exactly how it happened, but one minute he was sitting in the terminal, and the next, he was catching a last glimpse of the airport: the crowds in the stores and at other gates, before making his way through the jetway bridge. "Good morning," a flight attendant chimed with a smile. "Welcome aboard."
He sat heavily in his seat across from Atta, who kept a blank look in his eyes. Once the plane had filled up adequately enough, the pilot's voice rang out on the PA system. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and on behalf of our crew, we'd like to welcome you on board American Airlines Flight 11, non-stop to Los Angeles. We are looking at beautiful weather across the country, so we should expect a smooth flight. Once you have safely stored your baggage in the overhead compartment or under the seat in front of you, please be seated with your seatbelts securely fastened. Estimated time to Los Angeles is five hours and twenty-five minutes. We will begin pushback shortly, please give your attention to the flight attendants for an important safety instruction. Whether your are a frequent flier or a first time flier, you should give them your undivided attention. We thank for choosing American Airlines."
The hijacker laughed quietly at the irony. Whatever the flight attendant was saying wasn't really registering in his mind as the plane pushed back from the gate. All too soon, the plane was set to take off. The aircraft set off on the runway, and the man held on tightly to his armrests and he gazed out the window as they took off from the ground for the final time. He would never walk on a city street again or feel the wind or heard a bird chirping. Gathering whatever strength he had, he closed his eyes and began to whisper a prayer.
"
Bismillahir rahmanir rahim, alhamdulillahi rabbil alamin, ir rahmanir rahim, Maliki yawmi din…"
Once airborne, one of the other hijackers made his way to the lavatory to set up the bomb and the man caught the eye of Atta. Their leader simply made a sign with his hand to wait for his signal. They needed to finish the entire operation before eleven that morning, and it was already past eight. Eventually, the bomber reemerged into the main cabin and made his way back to his seat. Atta firmly nodded, the man did the same, and the others followed suit.
A flight attendant was pushing a cart of food and drinks. When she stopped by Atta, in a swift movement, he drew his box cutter knife running it through her throat. "Allah hu akbar!"
"Allah hu akbar!" came the response of all the hijackers rising from their seats. Cries of fear and confusion resounded throughout the cabin as the hijackers killed a passenger trying to stand up.
"Nobody move!" roared Atta and one of the other hijackers held up a switch for the passengers to see. "We have a bomb! Everybody remain in your seats and do nothing stupid! You'll only endanger yourselves and the plane!" He held up his knife to reiterate his threat. "Make sure they remain seated," Atta ordered three of the hijackers, including the man in Arabic. He then turned to the man who'd act as his fellow pilot. "Yalla!" With that, they sprinted frontward towards the cockpit.
___________________
Things were going great, a man marveled as he stepped off the subway with his briefcase. He and his wife had just celebrated their thirtieth anniversary together, his kids (grown up) were happy; he had a great job as an accountant at Marsh on the ninety-eighth floor of the north tower of the World Trade Center, and soon, his only daughter was getting married to a young medical assistant over at Sloan-Kettering. To think that four years ago, he would never have accepted their union. However, after they had dated for about a year, he finally put his personal feelings aside and took her boyfriend to lunch. It was there that he proved himself as a man worthy of his daughter's heart. Now the father would not hear a word against him. It was yesterday, at his and his wife's anniversary dinner at Windows of the World that his daughter's boyfriend proposed to her on top of the tower. Therefore, the father could easily say that the Twin Towers were special to him. The only thing that could possibly make his day any better was that promotion he would get if his speech to the board later in the afternoon went well.
Whistling
Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones, he stepped into the building, nodding at a security guard and wishing a good morning to a lady who worked at transportation, he entered the elevator along with five people, including two coworkers. Once reaching his office, he was met with his boss. "Well, somebody looks happy," he laughed. "How'd the anniversary go?"
"Went good," the father replied. "And my daughter just got engaged."
His boss blinked and broke into a smile. "Congratulations, man! When's the wedding?"
"Don't know yet, but we want do it in the summer next year."
"Alright," his boss replied. "See you around, then. Looking forward to your presentation later." He and his boss went their separate ways and the father finally took a seat in his cubicle by the window. He began the day's work whilst rocking in his chair absentmindedly.
Even if he did not get the promotion, he still believed that things were going great. After all, how often does one's children married? Happens only two times in a lifetime for one with only two kids like he had. Maybe this weekend, he'd get in contact with his future in-laws and throw his daughter and her fiancé an engagement party. Yeah, that is what he'd do. The surprise factor was just too good to pass up.
Putting thoughts of the future wedding aside, he turned his full focus to his work. He needed to finish a marketing report by the end of the week, or things wouldn't be good. Not even an hour passed before one of his coworkers gasped, "What the ****? Look at that!"
The father got up from his desk, his brow furrowing as he strode over to his coworker standing by the window with a few others. Suddenly, he spotted what the problem was. There was a plane outside in the distance flying low…dangerously low and dangerously fast. This was no private plane either, but a huge commercial airliner. Likely a 757 or '67, he didn't know much about planes, but at this rate, the idiot flying that thing would likely get a lot of people hurt or worse. In his worry, the man took note of how straight the plane was flying and drawing closer and closer.
"Wait," another coworker shouted. "Is he flying towards… He's heading right for…!" One moment there was nothing, and the next, the father was thrown off his feet in an orange plume of fire and smoke as the plane struck the building. It seemed to take him ages to fall. The smoldering office was spinning around him, the terrible stench of the burning steel, and his coworkers similarly falling, some engulfed in flames. The last images to enter his mind as darkness took him was flashing memories of his beloved wife, raising their kids, and the future grandchildren he would never know.
_____________________
The world was in a state of shock, Hassan observed as he lay quietly in his bed next to his sleeping wife. In a matter of less than two hours, the World Trade Center in New York had been utterly destroyed. In addition, the Pentagon lost an entire section of the building due to another hijacked plane crash, and the White House or Capitol Building in Washington had just barely been saved from destruction thanks to the passengers who fought the terrorists back. Unfortunately, despite their valiant efforts to take control of the plane, United 93 crashed into a field in Pennsylvania taking the lives of everyone on board.
It had been a week since the attacks and Hassan was still in a state of disbelief. His little brother whom had been so close to him as a child was now dead and seen by the entire world as a terrorist who didn't give a **** about human life. Hassan's parents said nothing on the matter, but he could tell that they were both grieving. On the evening after the attacks, after
Isha prayer, the Sheikh of his mosque condemned the perpetrators and terrorism in general. He read verses in the Quran condemning the murder of innocent people and asked that everyone say a prayer for the victims and their families. He also reminded the congregants that this was a terrible loss for Muslims worldwide, as Muslims had been killed at the World Trade Center along with the other victims. Everyone went home with heavy hearts that night.
By September the twelfth, Hassan knew that the clouds of war were gathering. President Bush made it clear that these atrocities would not go unpunished, and he had the support of many nations around the world, including Saudi Arabia. The Crown Prince told the nation and the world that he would do everything in his power to combat terror in the kingdom. Those American and European fools were all asking how it came to this, but Hassan and anyone in the Middle-East could have seen this coming eventually. He also knew that many innocent bystanders in the Muslim would suffer because of this attack, either deliberately or as a result of the combat that would definitely ensue. There was no way that the Taliban would give up bin Laden so easily.
Despite all this, he still had thoughts of his lost brother. The whole world knew his brother now and the world hated him, but Hassan still remembered the innocent little boy he had once been. Their father was away at work for much of the time, so Hassan almost became his youngest brother's surrogate father, thus ended up being his mentor as well as the man figure in his life. He would teach him in his academics as well as how to bargain at the market, how to fight and stand up for himself, and just have fun with him.
It wasn't until his brother reached high school age that he started becoming more religious than the rest of the family. They were practicing Muslims in the sense that they believed in Allah as the one true God, that Muhammad (peace be upon him) was the last and greatest of all the prophets, they observed the five daily prayers, paid
zakat when possible, and fasted on Ramadan. However, Islam was not something that played a significant role in their lives until recent months. So when Hassan's brother became more observant, the family was proud at first. Then he became political.
A new Sheikh appeared in his school with extreme views on the West and the interpretation of the Quran. After a few private lessons with the Sheik, his brother became angrier and felt that he needed to fight for his Muslim brothers suffering in the rest of the world. Once he disappeared during his university years, Hassan and his family would constantly look in newspapers for any news of the youngest son. He sadly missed out on Hassan's wedding and the birth of his boys, yet the oldest brother told his kids nothing but good stories of their uncle. Then, out of nowhere, on the
Eid ul-Fitr of 2000, he appeared at the house of his and Hassan's parents.
His brother had fallen in with Usama bin Laden, the founder of the al-Qaeda terrorist network. These were the very people responsible for the 1998 embassy bombings in Kenya and Tanzania and for the bombing of the USS Cole in Yemen earlier that year. He was bragging about an important mission that he had been selected for along with nineteen other men. This mission would, in his own words, bring America to its knees. Hassan couldn't believe his ears.
Their father was furious. After a long argument with his youngest son, the younger man accused the entire family of not being true Muslims and traitors to the faith. After that, their father simply embraced him and asked him to leave the house. Their mother tried stopping him, but he stormed through the door without looking back. Not even a year later, he died, killing himself for a madman under the guise of Islam. With him, he took thousands of innocent lives.
With a terrible revelation, tears filled Hassan's eyes and he began to quietly sob. This was all
his fault! He could have stopped his brother; it would probably have jeopardized their whole mission, but now, so many innocent people were dead. Wives lost their husbands, husbands lost their wives, children lost their father or mother, and parents lost their children. Hassan could have informed the police about this plan, and maybe his brother could have been interrogated. He probably could have given them a lot of information, but no; Hassan just stood silently in that living room with feelings of shame.
Hassan felt his wife's warm arms wrap around him and he buried his head on her shoulder, hot tears burning his eyes. "It's all my fault, Farrah," he whispered. "I could have stopped him. Allah, forgive me…" His wife said nothing, she only held her husband closer as he grieved the loss of all the lives lost on that September day, including his brother whom the world now hated.
A/N: Dedicated to the 2976 victims of Attacks of September 11th, 2001. If I had named the hijacker, it would have humanized him. I was trying to show the effect that one of them might have had on his family, hence the character of Hassan. He's obviously going through a terrible grief, thus is not thinking about the fact that no matter what he'd do, the attacks would go through anyway. The father and his coworkers remain unnamed out of respect for the real victims. To this day, whenever I see the recap of the attacks, I am in shock, especially when the towers crumble.