« In the basket, the crabs all stand by the claw. You have no idea how many small and big arrangements bind party members. Most of our major financiers, politicians, journalists, academics, high-ranking officials, magistrates, researchers, academics, communicators, artists, economists, press bosses, entrepreneurs, anti-racist and trade union leaders, publishers of this country, are either members of the club the Century or Freemasons, at least all sponsored, if not elected. »

« Fight those who do not believe in Allah or the Last Day until they pay the capitation tax and submit and humiliate themselves. The Koran. 9 :29. Paris, 1st arrondissement, 10:15 p.m. This hell named France, Quraych Al-Islam had made it his paradise. A country so predictable, where it was easy to rule... Country so eager to disappear, that defeating it was almost insulting. Moderated to his short beard collar, Quraych quickly established himself among the professionals of the Republican tribute. He understood how to present well, reassure the frightened Frenchman, and politely threaten his political leaders, whose only terror was to lose their place too quickly. Quraych was a diplomatic terrorist, whom no one dared interrupt, who had made the system his system. Between the demands of some and the loses of others, he knew how to make himself indispensable, until he became a kind of living concession, the last intermediary between the French and death. Not an hour goes by without Quraych reciting Surahs, devoting himself to Allah, thinking of the teachings of Al-Azhar, the greatness of the Mughals, the Abbasids, and the magnificent Suleiman. He was of all his being Islam. He was from Damascus and he had been from Deir ez-Zor, and Palmyra. His companions were only martyrs, giving them his life was his honor and pride. In the land of the fragile, he boasted of having become a caliph, a telegenic product specializing in the smiling threat, "knowing how to play stereotypes", as one journalist slavishly wrote. Behind the scenes, crossing the stage managers, the editors, the journalists, he saw only this eagerness to be pleasant to him, these looks begging for complicity, almost making him want to caress their heads. Time was playing for him, with talent he advanced his pawns, mosques, immigration, the halal circuit, community amendments, and with the Muslim League signed unprecedented electoral scores. The infidel had to oppose him only his benevolence, his smiles, his consensus, the persuasion that his coward was a broad-mindedness. (pp. 105-107) »

« When we see that three thugs manage to mobilize for several days all the assault units of the country, what will happen, when a dozen terrorists decide to strike in several cities at the same time? What happens when police officers, caught in an ambush, are forced to kill several assailants to get out? It's a hell coming. »