Laden. Swiss and Liechtenstein police raided Al Taqwa’s offices in Switzerland and Liechtenstein, respectively, and Swiss police raided as well the home of its principal, Huber, in Rossimattstrasse 33, 3074 Muri, Bern (see more below), and the homes of Youssef Nada and Ali Ghaleb Himmat, two other Al Taqwa directors. Al Taqwa’s accounts in Swiss banks were frozen. Separately, Italian police closed an Islamic cultural center in Milan used as Al-Qaeda’s European logistical center. The center was financed by Ahmed Idris Nasreddin, a Kuwaiti businessman who was also an Al Taqwa director. Three months later, Al Taqwa was shut down permanently. The U.S. government’s Office of the Coordinator of Counterterrorism distributed a list of sixty-two organizations and individuals suspected of involvement in terrorist activities. Nada Management was included on the list. Al Taqwa was the financial arm of the Muslim Brotherhood. That organization was founded in Egypt in the late 1920s and has fought for the formation of a pure pan-Islamic theocratic state.
Obviously the document was sanitized, and anything meaningful had been redacted. What was left was history, not intelligence, I concluded, and just leafed through the rest of the pages. Since Nada Management and Huber were all dead, it was all very interesting, but what would I do with it? I pushed the bulky document aside and called Benny.
“Thanks for the stuff, but the organization seems to be as dead as its directors.”
“Frankly, I don’t know where it takes you,” said Benny, reading my mind. “That’s the only unclassified material we’ve got on these guys. There’s one thing you should know though, unless your friends at CIA have already told you.”
“What?”
“We heard rumors that, immediately after the Islamic Revolution, the Iranians and their subsidiary terrorist organizations were looking for genuine travel documents issued by the U.S. and other major Western countries.”
“Why? Didn’t they have their own version of Tibor who could manufacture genuine-looking passports?” Benny and I knew well the Mossad’s Hungarian-born document artist.
“I’m sure they do. But why forge and risk detection, when you can use the real thing? National passports are becoming more and more difficult to forge, because they don’t know what hidden markers are included in the passport. Besides, maybe in this case whoever took the passport needed not only the passport, but the identity.”
Benny had unwittingly just supported my earlier suspicion. And the real Ward-where was he? I had an idea, but wasn’t in the mood to dwell on it just then. I wondered why he had brought up the passport issue when, on its face, it had no connection to Ward’s case. Was he subtly trying to send me a message?
“Dan, let’s meet tomorrow. I’ve got some ideas,” said Benny, suddenly breaking my train of thought.
“Sure. Want to come to my hotel at one o’clock?”
The next day, Benny arrived unusually late. “You’ll have to excuse me, I had a small emergency,” he said as we sat at the restaurant downstairs.
“As always,” I teased him.
Benny glared at me and got to the point. “I have more information on Nada Management. Although they were shut down, the money-laundering activity continues. Terror organizations need money, and if you dry up one swamp to keep the mosquitoes away, another one will pop up in no time.
“On April 19, 2002, the U.S. government blocked all assets of Youssef Nada and Bank Al Taqwa, both of which were designated as terrorist financiers by the Department of Treasury on November 7, 2001.”
Benny pulled out a document from his briefcase and leafed through the pages. “Here it is.” On the same date, the U.S. Treasury also named four additional individuals as terrorist financiers connected to Al Taqwa: Zeinab Mansour-Fattouh, Mohamed Mansour, Albert Friedrich Armand Huber, and Ali Ghaleb Himmat. The Al Taqwa group has long acted as financial advisor to Al-Qaeda, with offices in the Ca rib be an, Italy, Liechtenstein, and Switzerland. Ahmed Idris Nasreddin and Youssef Nada are both founders and directors of Bank Al Taqwa. Osama bin Laden and his Al-Qaeda organization received financial assistance from Youssef Nada. Al Taqwa provides investment advice and cash-transfer mechanisms for Al-Qaeda and other radical Islamic groups.
“Fine,” I said. “So they’re probably having a good time somewhere in the Middle East, or they’ve dug in a hole in Afghanistan enjoying the company of seventy virgins, without even having to blow themselves up.”
Benny smiled. “Maybe. But they left a job half done.” “Meaning?” I was wondering why Benny, an Israeli Mossad executive, was reading out U.S. government material to me. “How does it help my case?” I asked pointedly.
“There’s a need for their services. Now, when they go under, who’ll take care of the financially orphaned terrorist organizations? Where will they go?” he said in a mockingly sorrowful voice. Then his tone changed. “Listen, unless we’re ready for them, we’ll lose the war on terrorism, and our only option is going to be choosing the magnitude of our humiliation.”
Benny was telling me something, which I read loud and clear. The Mossad seemed to be trying to fill the gap and provide financial services to the “needy” terrorist organizations. But why was he telling me that? Friendship aside, in these matters you didn’t share that kind of information with anyone, even with a close friend. Benny had thrown a line with some juicy bait. But was there also a sharp-edged hook?
Being direct seemed to be the best course. “Benny, why are you telling me this?”
He smiled wryly. “Because I like you.” He was as smooth as they come when it came to playing it close to the vest.
“Right. But you want something. Now tell me what it is.” “I could use help,” he said casually. He had anticipated my reaction.
“What kind of help?”
“Your favorite kind. The exciting kind.”
I sighed impatiently. “OK, I get it. Just tell me.”
His story was intriguing. For the past few years, just after the 9/11 attacks, the four “financiers” had run a small but lucrative business in Europe, and over the last four years they’d slowly taken control of a family-owned bank. This bank had been in the business of providing financial services to rich Arabs for a long time. Until the midseventies, their clients had mostly been oil millionaires from the Persian Gulf States or corrupt politicians with dirty money. Last year, the bank actually made a profit of more than $70 million.
“I take it the Mossad finally put you on commission?” Benny chuckled. “I wish. You know the drill-when you overspend five hundred dollars, accounting is all over you, but when you make seventy million a year, they don’t even say thanks.”
“Small business?”
“Well, you know, in proportion to other banks in Europe,” he said with a grin.
“What bank is it?” I asked.
“Tempelhof Bank.”
“Benny, are your guys following me?” Was it just a coincidence? I was annoyed.
“Not at all. You’ll soon see that we have a common interest.”
“OK, what’s my interest?” I was getting tired of his slow game.
“You’re looking for Albert Ward.”
“How do you know that? Benny, let’s cut to the chase. Have you been monitoring me?”
“No. I just know.”
“How?”
“People talk.”
“I didn’t.”
“You aren’t people. Since when do you expect me to divulge my sources?” He smiled, enjoying the cat- and-mouse exchange.
“Benny! What the hell is going on here? You tell me about a serious and confidential operation the Mossad is running, but you don’t tell me about a potential leak in my operation?”
“Pakistan is a sieve,” he said, shrugging. “Rarely is information sold once. Three or four times is more likely.”
“Well, U.S. government employees in Pakistan definitely told you nothing. That leaves one bank manager and one lawyer.”
“Always knew you were a quick thinker,” said Benny, his grin returning.
