Treason (3 page)

Tacoma Park

Northwest Washington, D.C.

H
appy birthday, husband!” Dheeh Adeogo beamed.

U.S. Representative Nuruddin Ayaanie “Rudy” Adeogo had forgotten it was his forty-first birthday. On the morning after President Allworth was attacked, the freshman congressman's mind was focused on other matters. He'd been “invited” to hold a news briefing inside Studio A at the Capitol Visitor Center, a 580,000-square-foot underground complex built below the East Front grounds of the U.S. Capitol.

Members of Congress could not hold a press conference in Studio A unless an accredited member of the Radio-Television Correspondents Gallery formally invited them, although there were exceptions. There were always exceptions, Adeogo had discovered since moving to Washington three months ago. The vice president and the Senate and House leadership could show up at Studio A anytime to address the media, but a run-of-the-mill member of Congress couldn't set foot inside the dark-blue-carpeted studio with its rich wood backdrop, podium bearing the official U.S. seal, and seats for dozens of reporters, without being formally invited. This by-invitation-only rule was in place to stop politicians from conducting self-serving news conferences that no one would attend.

That was not the case today with Rudy Adeogo.

Every reporter in Washington wanted to interview him. The failed assassins who'd attempted to kill the president were from Adeogo's Fifth Congressional District in Minneapolis. Fawzia and Cumar Samatar were Somali Americans and Adeogo was the first Somali American elected to Congress. He was also its only practicing Muslim.

“I had this specially made by a jeweler for your birthday,” Dheeh said, handing her husband a black jewelry box. She had waited until he was about to leave the Tacoma Park house that they were renting to present him with his birthday present. A taxi was outside waiting to drive him to the Capitol Hill television studio.

Adeogo quickly opened the box and discovered inside it a lapel pin shaped like a wood-handled broom. The broom had been his campaign symbol. When the Minnesota Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party had endorsed Adeogo at a press conference, Dheeh had handed him an old-fashioned stick broom and declared: “Use this to sweep out corruption in Washington.” Photographers and political reporters had loved the gimmick because it was a thinly veiled attack on the Republican incumbent, who'd been caught paying a staff salary to his elderly mother-in-law even though she lived in a locked dementia ward in Florida.

“It's perfect!” he said approvingly. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Dheeh lowered her eyes. Theirs was an arranged marriage and even though they had been man and wife for fifteen years she was still uncomfortable with physical signs of affection.

She attached the gold pin to the lapel of her husband's off-the-rack Men's Wearhouse gray suit. “I know you will do well this morning. You practiced your statement all night.”

“It is not my statement I'm worried about. You know what I'm talking about.”

She did. It was a secret from his past. Decker Lake had uncovered it while Adeogo was campaigning for office and had used it to manipulate him. With Lake now dead, Adeogo should have been able to relax. But Adeogo realized that if Decker Lake had found the skeleton in his closet, someone else could too. Someone new could use it to control him.

“You are not responsible for your younger brother's actions,” she said.

“You believe that, but others will not,” he replied, turning to leave.

Studio A was crowded. As he stepped behind the podium, the reporters' faces disappeared into darkness. He could not see beyond the first row of chairs because of the spotlights now shining in his eyes. He could hear only their detached voices shouting questions.

“Did you know the terrorists or their families in Minneapolis?” a reporter yelled.

“No, there are more than a hundred thousand Somali Americans in Minneapolis and while we are a tight-knit community, I didn't know either of them or their families.”

“The embassy in Mogadishu was attacked last year by a jihadist named Abdul Hafeez who also was from Minneapolis. Why are Somali Americans joining these radical groups?”

“ISIS is targeting men and women who are eighteen and nineteen. They were born in the United States but don't feel like they are Americans. Of Minnesota's five largest immigrant groups, Somali Americans have the highest unemployment rate—almost thirty percent. Joining ISIS gives these young people a cause and a purpose. This is why we must teach them that these groups are perverting Islam.”

“But it's not actually a perversion of Islam, is it?” a voice called out.

Adeogo didn't recognize the voice and couldn't make out the reporter's face because he was seated at the back of the studio.

“You Muslims can't claim Islam is a peace-loving religion when the Quran openly calls for violence against nonbelievers,” the reporter continued. “Your prophet, Muhammad, ordered Arab tribesmen, who had killed some of his slaves, to be punished by having their hands and feet cut off, their eyes gouged out, and their bodies thrown upon the ground until they died.”

The room turned eerily silent. Normally, reporters would call out questions simultaneously. Now they were waiting for Adeogo to answer.

“I am not here to argue religion. But I will remind you that there are passages in the Old Testament of the Christian bible that are violent too,” Adeogo said. “When Barack Obama was president, he spoke candidly about Christians slaughtering Muslims during the Crusades.”

“Do you reject the Prophet Muhammad's calls for violence against non-Muslims?”

“There are 1.57 billion Muslims in the world and only a few radicals endorse what is essentially a seventh-century interpretation of the Quran.”

“Western intelligence services claim radicals make up fifteen to twenty-five percent of all Muslims. Using your own figures, that's 180 million to 300 million radical jihadists who want to murder nonbelievers.”

“I'm not here to debate exaggerated statistics. I'm here to talk about a thirty-percent unemployment rate among young Somali Americans in my community and those young persons' feelings of being disenfranchised.”

“Representative Adeogo, the two Somali Americans who attacked the president yesterday were both employed,” the reporter replied, undeterred. “More than two thousand men from Saudi Arabia have joined ISIS and they were from wealthy families in a Muslim society. I wouldn't call them disenfranchised, would you? Giving Muslim youths jobs isn't going to stop terrorism. Are you a religious liberal?”

For a moment, Adeogo considered simply ignoring his inquisitor. But none of the others in the room shouted out any questions.

“There is no Arabic word for liberal,” Adeogo replied, “but if you are asking me if I am an Islamic liberal when it comes to accepting other people's religion then yes, I am. I am not an Islamic supremacist who believes that Islam is supreme over all peoples. I accept the legitimacy of other religions, as I believe most Muslims do. Despite your accusations about Islam, our faith is a religion of peace, beauty, and tolerance. Six days after the 9/11 attacks, President George W. Bush acknowledged that ‘Islam is peace.'”

“If Islam is peace, why did two of your fellow Muslims try to murder the president yesterday?” the reporter said, interrupting him.

“I can only assume this misguided couple was radicalized by a false teacher. And that is another part of the problem that we are facing, especially those of us who are Muslims. We've allowed our faith to be hijacked by self-appointed guardians of religion who spout intolerance in mosques and through social media. These are Islamic supremacists. They vilify anyone who doesn't adhere to an austere interpretation of Islam. This is why American Muslims must speak out against this extremism, especially when radical interpretations of Islam are being taught in our mosques. We should not only be condemning radicalization, but Muslims worldwide should be leading the military fight to destroy ISIS.”

“Would you today, at this news conference, demand that Saudi Arabia and other Arab states join you in condemning all Muslims who participate in a religious jihad against the United States and Israel?”

“I believe Saudi Arabia and other Arab states have already declared war against ISIS and extremists, but if you are asking me if they should be doing more, the answer is yes. The Arab world should be leading the campaign to eliminate ISIS.”

“I'm not just talking about ISIS. I'm asking you if the Arab world, especially Saudi Arabia, should join the U.S. and its ally—Israel—in fighting other radical terrorists such as Hezbollah and the Muslim Brotherhood.”

“Who are you?” Adeogo asked.

“I'm the Washington correspondent for a new Jewish newswire service.”

Before Adeogo could react, the reporter added, “You acknowledged during your campaign that Israel was a legitimate nation, something Somalia and many Arab nations refuse to do. How are these refusals consistent with Islam being a peace-loving and accepting religion?”

“I am here today to condemn violence by radical Islamists,” Adeogo said. “Not to discuss the Arab world's relationship with Israel.”

“You can't discuss one without the other.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Adeogo said, abruptly stepping away from the podium.

When the spotlights dimmed, he searched for the argumentative Jewish reporter but all of the chairs in the back of the studio were empty.

Adeogo's public information officer was waiting for him outside the studio. “That got intense,” Fatima Olol said. “But you handled it really well. I spoke to several reporters afterwards and they're going to write about your call for more jobs in Minneapolis—not the Jewish reporter's badgering questions about Israel.”

She checked the time on her phone and added, “The White House is expecting you in about an hour. We need to hurry.”

She led him through packs of tourists meandering inside the massive visitors' center but when they entered Emancipation Hall, Adeogo stopped her. He nodded upward at an inscription carved on a wall of the spacious lobby, which featured a thirty-foot tall ceiling and skylights, through which the U.S. Capitol dome could be seen.

“The architects originally put the inscription ‘
E Pluribus Unum
' in this public building,” he explained. “They said it was our nation's motto.”

“‘One from many,'” she replied. “I took high school Latin.”

“But that wasn't the actual motto. Our country's motto is ‘In God We Trust.'”

“Yes, I remember the fight. Political conservatives accused liberals of intentionally omitting ‘In God We Trust' because it was a religious statement.”

“The two sides actually took their argument to court. The liberals didn't want ‘In God We Trust' or even the words to the Pledge of Allegiance displayed here, but they lost and so here it is for everyone to see: In God We Trust.” Adeogo paused and then asked, “Does it offend you? You're a Muslim, as I am.”

“When I was in high school, I stopped saying the Pledge of
Allegiance. I believed swearing that oath was not compatible with my
faith. But recognition of a Christian god is part of our country's religious heritage so I understand why Christians want it here. But times are changing. People are not joining Christian churches. The nation is becoming more diverse. Maybe someday, there will be mention of other great religions in our public buildings in addition to Christianity. Or maybe someday there will be no mention of them at all.”

“It doesn't offend me,” Adeogo said. “I meant what I said earlier. I am a liberal Muslim, a modern day one. I am not an Islamic supremacist. To me God is Allah. What someone else calls Him is not as important as believing in God. But I know many others believe there can be only one God and He is Allah.”

“It's better to never talk religion in public,” Olol replied. “But because you are a Muslim, you will always be asked to defend our faith.”

“And because I am a Muslim, I will always be suspect.”

“After 9/11, aren't we all?”

Adeogo glanced at his young protégée. She was in her early thirties, a petite University of Minnesota graduate who'd first caught his eye when she'd volunteered to work at his downtown Minneapolis campaign headquarters. He'd brought her to Washington because she was smart, willing to work a hundred hours a week for a paltry salary, and because he knew her parents. Although he was careful not to show it, Adeogo found her sexy too.

“We need to go,” she said.

As they started to exit from the hall, Adeogo heard a voice call his name. A statuesque woman with red hair approached them, extending her hand toward Olol.

Adeogo's smile instantly vanished.

“I'm sure Rudy hasn't told you about me,” she said. “I'm Mary Margaret Delaney.”

“I'm the congressman's press secretary,” Olol said, shaking Delaney's hand.

“You mean you're the U.S. representative's media contact,” Delaney said, correcting her. “One of the first lessons I taught your boss was not to use the word ‘congressman' since it's sexist and ‘press secretary' is outdated because most of us now get our news off the Internet.”