Chapter 521

Andy, Ed, Bill and I huddled and discussed the final options. There were the two at the plane who were not an immediate problem. Two had been left in the lobby; two more of Prince’s guards and four of the hunting group were in the hall outside the suite.

According to the camera video, the four from the hunting group were opening the ten crates on the tables along with three travel cases and putting it on display for the Chinaman when he arrived, I supposed.

The Mossad girls and I with Andy and a couple men went first to the lobby to kill the two there and dispose of the bodies. The kill was easy.

As soon as we were in the lobby Andy flew into a rage, first hitting me then Ziva and Abra. We tried defending ourselves then running behind the two men only to shove our combat knives deep into the chest cavity severing arteries. We managed to get them into the safe before they spilled any blood on the floor.

We found out why the safe door was never fully closed; it would not close all the way, something had shifted.

Then Andy, Ziva and I returned to the fifth floor via the elevator. We waited for the others in the hall by the elevator being loud, getting the attention of the six guarding the door.

We had their attention as the others returned to floor and we walked towards our end of the hall. Bill and several more men quietly came from our rooms up behind the six. With a combination of knives and Russian pistols with the latest Mossad silencers, the six died quietly without a whimper. The bodies were dragged into a storage room.

Now we were ready to storm the Prince’s suite. Only Robert stepped into the hall getting our attention.
“The arms dealer is going to be thirty minutes early,” Robert said.

That meant that I was not going to have as long to torture the Prince to exact revenge as I wanted.

With the Russian pistols at the ready at both doors that led into the suite – on the count of three – we burst in. Unfortunately I was the last in; Andy, Bill nor Ed were having it any other way.

The orders to my men and ladies were simple, kill everyone but Crown Prince Sultan al-Zahab, Prince Abdulraouf al-Zahab and Abu Barazan and they did. I had a painful way the others were going to feel before they died.

When I went in the three were sitting in chairs in the middle of the room. I walked to the tables holding the treasure; all the gold and what amounted to a bucket full of diamonds and rubies and assorted other precious stones. In a gold inlayed briefcase were the sixty five five-million dollar ‘Pay to the holder’ US treasury bonds.

I ordered Andy to seal the boxes of gold and precious stones back up and get it loaded up into a couple of the Range Rovers and guard it.

“Do you really think you can steal the Kings treasure and get away with it?” the Crown Prince asked.

I never answered.

Burt was busy transferring the Crown Prince’s wealth to the 10 offshore accounts they had set up for me using the Crown Prince’s laptop. There were also instructions for his account manager to convert the funds to US treasury bonds. The US treasury bonds were to be picked up by Crown Princess Fayza al-Zahab Monday at noon.

The little island boasted it handled billions daily and could handle any transaction for its discriminating clients. I would find out Monday if they could live up to their claims.

Ed had already called for the planes to pick us up. The times for them were varied. I needed to start getting my men out of here.

Bill and three others went to the Prince’s plane, to tell them the Prince needed them; that was the cover. They were to kill them and leave the bodies in the dumpster.

Back in the room the three men were tied to their chairs. I sent everyone out except Andy, Bill, Ziva and Abra to be lookouts for the last of our men from the hunting groups and any curious locals.

I put a big tie – strap above each right knee and pulled them tight. I stepped back and removed my burqa.

The Crown Prince went crazy; he was calling for his guards and tried to stand, even though his hands were tied to chair. Abdulraouf al-Zahab and Abu Barazan immediately followed suit. I shot all three of them in the knee that I had put the tie strap tourniquet on.

“Well I see you know who I am,” I said to the Crown Prince as I stood in front of him.

“I know who you are and am amazed that you are still alive,” the Prince replied.

“You have tried to kill me four times only to see me kill your fighters. I am only going to need this one time to kill you. I am going to exact revenge for what you have put my family and me through, as painfully as I can,” I said.

“Before you die I am going to remove your manhood to deny you your virgins; that is your belief, not mine,” I replied. The fear and rage was apparent; his eyes turned red he was so mad or afraid.

I walked to the chair holding Abu Barazan, “You supplied the guns to kill my men; for that you will pay with your life. I fired a round into each shoulder, then kicked the chair over in the direction of the Prince so he could watch and anticipate.

I flipped up the flowing cloak he was wearing and with my knife removed his under garment. From the bag of tools I used the scalpel the Doc had given me and sliced open the sack and cut off both testicles. I did not use the crimpers, I just let him bleed.

Each time he screamed and passed out. Each time Ziva brought him around with an ammonia capsule, he started screaming again.

With a battery powered red hot surgeon’s scalpel I removed his cock; the smell of burning flesh filled the room. I placed the body parts in one of the mason jars of formaldehyde, courtesy of the Doc.

With a very sharp medieval looking ax and I ended his pain and suffering by removing his head with one swing and placed it on the table looking at the Crown Prince.

I heard a jet land; Andy indicated it was the first one of ours to pick up team three. They were packed, ready and waiting to make the extended deceptive four day trip home. It departed minutes later.

Even before I stood in front of the younger Abdulraouf al-Zahab Prince, he started screaming. He had already thrown up twice all over himself.

I repeated the same procedure on him that I did to Abu; his head was now on the table looking at the Crown Prince with black lifeless eyes.

I placed a tie strap on Crown Prince Sultan al-Zahab’s other leg and put a round through the kneecap.

After a capsule and the screaming stopped, “How did you know I was behind the attacks?” he asked.

“A slip up here and there made me suspect it was you. Capturing the two from Windhoek gave you up. Then there was Saif and the ones from the New Jersey learning center. They couldn’t stop talking; told me everything they knew before they died a slow horrible death.”

“Colonel Faaz Fayeez Mohammad provided the final bullet,” I said.

“Then you do have him. His family is connected with the Iranian leadership; he is the son of the IRG commanding General. They will get you! They have many agents in your country just waiting,” the Prince replied.

“Why did you kill my brother if you knew I was controlling everything?” he asked.

“He was just waiting to fill your footsteps. You have been sending messages with the repeated attempts to kill me. I’m sending a message that that there will be consequences for funding terror no matter whom or where; it will only be a matter of time until it is administered,” I said.

“You have tried to kill my family; turnabout is fair play in love or war. Revenge is a dish best served cold,” I added.

I kicked the chair over. I did not shoot him in the shoulders; I wanted him to feel every slice of the knife. I watched the fire drain from his eyes as I dropped the parts in the jar and wrote his initials on the lid.

“No virgins for you, it’s a good thing I don’t have my strap-on or I would rape your ass as you have done to so many boys,” I said.

He had no response as I placed him across the chair. One swing of the axe and his head joined the other two on the table.

Another jet had landed and left; team four was gone. The lookouts called in; another jet was inbound and it was not one of ours. I expected it to be a large jet; instead it was a small one, far too small to bring any of his products to demonstrate.

The China arms dealer was stepping off the plane. A couple of Andy’s men made nice and met him with one of the Range Rovers.

There were only four of them, pilot, copilot, the dealer and an assistant. As soon as they walked into the room they were all dead.

The mission was over; all the key players were dead. Now to escape.

I broke my rules and made two phone calls, the first to Vicky to ask if the Colonel was still alive. He was.
“Keep him alive. I will fill you in later,” I instructed.

The second was to Frank, telling him who the Colonel was and to pass it to the joint Chiefs. I did not give him a chance to respond before I killed the call.

Another jet was landing; team five was leaving with all the money from the Prince. It would not land at Morton until Monday, empty; it would be diverted to Mexico City and lay over a day there. The men and money were changing to a JBG jet at a small private strip in Panama tomorrow.

All the changes were to throw off anyone trying to track the movements.

As Burt was leaving, “You are going to be surprised on Monday!”

I wondered what the hell that meant.

The rest of us loaded up on the Prince’s jet after a complete sweep, clean up and wipe down of the rooms we had used. Everything was burned; every scrap of paper, the nitrile gloves we used; everything. One of the pilots who flew our planes for the CIA was at the controls.

I was ready for the winding trek home; there were only a couple more stops to make, all of them dangerous. I needed to unwind and crash. It was a good thing the Prince’s plane had a well stocked liquor cabinet with good cold Budweiser. I downed three before I fell asleep.

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Chapter 520

We women were put in two Range Rovers at the direction of Andy, with the men leading the way in another.

The hotel was bad and it was easy to tell the rooms had not been used in months; dusty, dirty, stale. The water had to run for thirty minutes before the yellow rusty color went away. Well, we are not drinking that stuff without putting in sanitizing pellets or boiling it.

We had brought plenty of bottled water and MRE’s so we would not have to venture out.

There was a sign in the lobby that the restaurant would only serve the supper meal and the bar was closed by order of the local government. That translated out that they had not paid enough bribe money to the local officials.

This hotel was listed as belonging to a major international chain. Yeah, right; that was the lie of the century. I guess in this part of the world corporate could not force then to stop advertising past connections or force them to take the signage down.

The elevators did work; I also noticed that when we walked by the security camera panel was black. That was a setback in a way; Robert was planning to hack the camera system so we could keep an eye on the Prince when he arrived and then disable it when we wanted.

Robert and Burt had came prepared for setbacks, each of them had a suitcase with a portable satellite dish for communications and several wireless cameras they were going to put in the hall.

Robert was with my team and Burt was with team five staying in the other hotel that was within seeing distance. Burt reported that hotel conditions were not any better over there. We were prepared for whichever hotel the Prince met with the arms dealer in.

The two teams had long range radios – the kind hunters used – so we could communicate. Burt was still monitoring the Prince’s banking and Robert the emails.

At 1400 I turned on my phone and made the call to Jenny letting them know we had arrived and were on schedule. I received an update on the interrogations. I would turn the phone on again at 1600, 1800, 2000 and 2200 South African time. 2200 would last of the day, 1500 at Morton – barring any emergencies.

I did have a clean laptop I could do emails with if I really had to; it had come from England. Robert had installed a stripper program to clean it every time it was shut down and the operating system I would use was on a portable hard drive. Robert and Burt were using the same type.

Wednesday morning the men – with the exception of Andy, Robert, Burt and the Mossad ladies – and a couple of guards and I met their hunting guides. That carried the last of the prince’s terrorist supporters out to the boonies.

Thursday was more planning and finalizing the last details as best we could. I began to wonder if the meeting between the Prince and the Chinese arms dealer was going to happen. I had expected some kind of communication between the two but all was quiet. I was getting nervous and paranoid.

All that changed about dark; Robert intercepted a dozen emails among the four.

We already knew where the diamonds, rubies and gold the Prince was to get was hidden. It was in the hotel safe; the two Iranian spies gave it up when they thought they were going to die. The small treasure was in three travel bags. The gold was in 10 wooden boxes, 50 kilos to the box.

The mines apparently were still very productive even after the owner was told there was no gold left in the ground. That is, unless the real owner of the mine was the Kingdom and this was another terror financing scheme by the Prince.
Crown Prince Sultan al-Zahab, Prince Abdulraouf al-Zahab and Abu Barazan (the terrorist planner) were arriving from Riyadh Saturday morning at 1000. The Chinese arms dealer was arriving at noon.

The Prince gave the hotel and room where he was holding his meetings. We had guessed right. It was the same floor we were on, at the opposite end of the hall.

Robert began putting the rest of his plans together with the confirmation that the cameras and equipment that Burt had could be set up on this floor. We began trying to find a window or balcony where one of the satellites could be set up. With that small of a dish, the angle had to be perfect. The two satellite dishes had been in the materials that Ben-David had supplied. They were the best that Putin could supply the mobile Russian army with; made by Motorola in Mexico.

All of us worked following Robert and Burt’s orders placing and testing the equipment. We worked four hours then split into shifts for rest and duty monitoring the floor and outside. Someone went to the lobby and outside every hour. Rarely was there anyone at the lobby check-in counter during the day and never after 1600.

I made the last call of the day to my mates. Then I did my four hour stint; Andy and the Mossad ladies refused to allow me to go outside. When they went they always had a male with them as was the custom in this part of the world.

It was a long night and when my four hours was up I slept like a baby. I was awakened at 0600 by the ringing of Andy’s satellite phone. The safari hunting groups four and five leaders had left camp at that time saying they had an important meeting to attend.

The leaders had tried for an hour before they left to contact hunting safari groups one and two. The theory was that there were problems with the radio equipment, maybe it had gotten wet.

On my orders Andy sent instructions to Bruce Sloane and Jerry Christopher – the team leaders for teams three and four – ordering them to kill the hunting scouts and guides at noon and feed the gators, burn all their equipment and then come back to Polokwane in the Land Rovers by 1400 and stay out of sight of the airport unless called. That was two more groups taken care of.

The same scenario played out with teams five and six. The two leaders left for the airport to meet the Prince leaving the scouts and guides with my men. Andy gave them the same orders.

The next orders went to the men with Burt “As soon as the Prince comes into the hotel and into the room, send half of your men to the fifth floor to our rooms for backup. As soon as the Chinese arms salesman gets into the hotel the rest are to come to the fifth floor but keep enough with you for security.”

Now it was the waiting game that I hated so much. A dozen hotel staff appeared for the first time in days. They cleaned the Princes rooms and vacuumed the hallway. Food, ice, beverages and table and chairs were brought in.

Andy and I along with the Mossad ladies used the commotion to venture to the lobby and back, making inquisitive conversation along the way. The cleaning crew only knew they were prepping for a VIP but did not know who. They were given strict orders that they were to finished and gone from the hotel by 0945.

Two hours later the lookouts reported that there was a plane in the air. The tower had not been in operation since we had been here. Four Range Rovers drove onto what was a first class tarmac. The drivers had the traditional greeting then a heated and agitated conversation with arms flailing and fist shaking.

The jet landed and pulled into the parking area; a big fancy and flashy Hawker jet with the Prince’s coat of arms painted on the tail. Four Range Rovers drove to the jet and waited.

It would have been nice to overhear the conversation with the four Prince’s body guards that exited the plane to greet the men. Thirty minutes later Crown Prince Sultan al-Zahab, Prince Abdulraouf al-Zahab and Abu Barazan exited the plane.

The body guards and pilots began loading the Range Rovers with suitcases from the cargo hold of the plane. The Range Rovers went to the hotel with two of his body guards and the suitcases were carried to the suite. One of the guards stayed while the other one and one of the leaders moved all the things in the safe to the suite while the Range Rovers returned to the plane.

The wireless cameras Robert and Burt had placed were working great.

The Range Rover carried the last of the individuals to the hotel. There was Crown Prince Sultan al-Zahab, Prince Abdulraouf al-Zahab and Abu Barazan, six body guards, two pilots still at the plane and the eight terrorist hunting leaders present; that made nineteen of them. It was decision time.

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Chapter 519

After a few minutes of social conversation I told the President of my plans to leave at noon, to take a week off and that Ben would be back in charge of Section 12. He did not question why so I did not need to tell him a lie.

I needed to be back at the office for the meeting with the attorneys of the man who was suing JBG. Jenny called this the discovery phase. It was where they pried into all your business looking for anything they could find to support their case.

The girls – along with our attorneys and me – were in the meeting room with several of my security staff when the attorneys were brought in. My security personnel were changing daily. I knew these men but had worked with them very little. The teams going to Africa forced the changes. The team leader today was Ray Boggs and, as usual, they were heavily armed.

Ray had the men checked for wires and brought in two bomb sniffing dogs. “Where the hell did they come from and when?” I wondered.

My men took and emptied the contents of their briefcases on the table and let the dogs sniff the cases and then the attorneys.

The attorneys were livid and let it be known that they had never been treated like this before.

“Has anyone tried to blow you up lately?” I asked.

For the next two hours they tried to get various confidential information that I denied them access to for security reasons. We gave them general information that was available publicly.

After the two hours Jenny asked for their client’s name and what position he had applied for; discovery works both ways.

Malcolm Wicks had applied for a job in the security department when we were adding manpower for the embassy expansions.

There were now five levels for employees in security.

Level one is mall and school security; I did not like that we were doing that but it was a joint effort by Ching Lee and Vicky under Ching Lee’s supervision, although we did not have too many of them yet.

Level two is college security with the team leaders being level three; all of them reporting to Ching Lee and Mark.

Level four is Embassy security with the team leaders at level five and reporting to Vicky, Cindy and me.
Andy, Bill and Ed were senior director level and reported to me or Vicky.

Jason printed off several copies of his application and the results of the initial research into Jesse.
Malcolm Wicks applied for the level four position. The position as posted on our website had several requirements.

1. Must be 21.
2. Must have a US passport.
3. Must have prior security experience, military service or a law enforcement degree.
4. Must be fluent in two foreign languages at the time of employment and willing to learn more.
5. Must be height and weight proportional.
6. Must be able to pass the standard fitness test approved by the US Law Enforcement Association.
7. Must be willing to travel worldwide on four hours notice or less.
8. Must take all immunizations required for foreign travel.
9. Must be able to qualify with handgun, rifle and shotgun with a score of 97% or better and remain proficient.
10. Must pass the JBG self defense course and remain proficient.

I passed the job specs to the lawyer and then the resume that Malcolm had sent in to HR.

“Your client does not meet any of the job specs that he applied for. He refuses to get the necessary vaccinations and he put that it in writing,” I said.

“You could train him in the things he was lacking,” the attorney replied.

“We did not post looking for trainees. We posted for qualified individuals. We needed 800 qualified people immediately. If I remember over 3000 qualified persons applied for the jobs,” I replied.

“I need a breakdown of your employees by race, sex and nationality,” the attorney said.

“We do not collect that kind of information on our employees and, as for sex, that is medical information and we can’t give that to you even if we wanted to,” I replied.

“This is the discovery phase and I am not satisfied with your cooperation. I will get a judge to order you to supply the information. I will see you in court,” he replied.

“Be my guest,” I replied as I stood.

The girls and I went to have a last meal together before I left to pack and then for Africa. After the goodbyes, hugs and some crying I boarded the jet with team six at Morton for a deceptive flight to Polokwane. First we went to South America on Ajax International Equipment Company’s private jet with the first stop at Fortaleza Brazil.

There we were changing to a Brazil Mining & Minerals jet to finish the flight across the Atlantic to South Africa. B M&M had mining operations all over Africa and their plane made regular flights there.

I had met the company officials when I had been ambassador to Uganda and we had become friends.

All of us slept on the flight to Brazil. The change over to the BMM flight was done at their hangar. It was pitch black, a perfect night for the beginning of clandestine operations. I took that a good sign and hoped that it would continue.

On this final leg of the trip we began getting ready for our public appearance. The former Mossad ladies began putting on the marking on the back of our hands and fingers that are prevalent on women in the Middle East and Africa. Our cover was completed with the traditional Muslim burqa and chador; the only thing visible on us women was our eyeballs and the fingers with intricate markings and no polish.

Those marking were different depending on the sects and tribes. We had chosen markings of the tribes from Yemen that were aligned with Iran that Robert’s information indicated were in the smuggling business; another good cover.

It was bright daylight when we landed. Google had lied or the pictures were terribly old. This place was deserted, all but abandoned; there was one operating fuel truck. I was surprised that it was a fairly new one. The operator needed payment in advance; ten dollars American per gallon so he could go to the fuel depot 20 miles away to get the fuel.

We did not need fuel in this plane; it still had enough left to make its next stop to Gaborone Botswana. That was the next stop for it. But the other planes coming to get us out of here in a few days may need some.

I told Andy in Russian to give the man enough money to fill the truck; I didn’t want any of the planes getting the teams out of here having to wait a day on fuel if they needed it. When it became time to go, I wanted everyone gone as fast as possible. Looking at this place I doubted any other planes would come here except for the Prince.

Andy met teams one and two on the tarmac near the plane while we women huddled off to the side. That s that way life was for women in that part of the world.

Their mission was done early; the two different guide groups they were with were led by the two Iranian spies. At the hunting camps over the weekend the hunting guides/poachers had campfire conversations in Arabic that they did not think my people could understand.

They were planning to raid migrant camps for women and young girls to rape and then to sell to the Middle Eastern rich for sex slaves and servants to fund terrorism and their lifestyle. The ISIS tactics for funding were making their way across all of Africa.

Migrant camps moved following agricultural work or game and were always on the move. Several new ones had shown up on the edge the wildlife refuge.

The guides were planning to raid the camps Sunday night and set up a temporary camp until they had enough women to ship to Yemen. Teams one and two killed all the guides with the exception of the two Iranians. The bodies were left in the river for the crocodiles. All their weapons were burned before being thrown in the river to quickly rust beyond use if found.

Teams one and two were leaving on the plane we had just gotten off. In the process the two spies were being dropped off at Hangar 43 where the plane would be refueled for the trip back to Brazil.

I made the call to Frank – it was the top of the even hour – to make sure his people were there and waiting. You can say a lot in five minutes if you talk fast enough.

We had a lot of work to do and it started as soon as the jet left the runway.

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Chapter 518

All three Generals just stared at me while I was listening to the Doc.

“Are you available for the next few days until he or we are finished?” I asked.

“OK, just keep the meter running,” I replied.

“The Doc says that if it does not require heavy doses to get him talking or to get the truth from him, more should not be a problem. If it requires heavy doses, then one or two at the most,” I relayed to the Generals.

“You need to get me a number to bill the DOD for part of the Doc’s services; they come awfully expensive. You know how expensive R&D is. Have your men to the office at the same time and the same rules will apply as last night,” I said.

The next three days at 1600 fell in a quiet routine again and that worried me more than anything. The evenings and nights were something else.

Balthazar was interrogated for three nights in a row, needing almost no drugs. Every day I had people make nice to him as long as he was talking. I let him choose food from the restaurant menu. He received clean clothes and was allowed to shower every day.

The fourth night the DOD men, Ben and Frank took a couple days off to analyze all the information they had. Vicky and I questioned Balthazar for three hours about the Prince and the activities he was connected in.

Balthazar admitted the Prince was behind the attacks on me and the Prince was the paymaster. Things I already knew, but the confirmation was nice to have.

The questions and answers also confirmed that the Prince was acting without the blessings of the King. In fact the King was being shielded from any of the Prince’s actions.

That meant that either there were more who approved of the Prince’s actions or they were deathly afraid to oppose him. The power play in the Kingdom carried life and death penalties, if one chose the wrong blood line to support.

Other answers from Balthazar confirmed the Prince’s support of Al-Qaida and a path for some of the weapons for ISIS. This was not the first large purchase of weapons the Prince had made for his terror connections.

Balthazar also gave up two names from the Polokwane hunting camp groups who were spies for Iran. Andy ordered both to meet with tragic accidents before team six and I arrived.

I asked Andy to hold off until Monday before giving the order. The two Iranians that I had captured in the Kampala Embassy attack had given up hundreds of bits of information to the CIA; Balthazar was giving up so many things that I wondered if capturing the two in Polokwane might be a better thing than killing them.

Robert was still reading through the thousands of emails in the Prince’s accounts. Only two of the accounts were locked and accessible only to the Prince, the other two accounts were also accessed by his assistants and were used for business of the kingdom.

Friday night was the first long business meeting I had with the girls this week. Every night this week I had went straight to the gym floor to work out and train with the Mossad four or have planning sessions with Andy.

There were good things from the meeting; the South Korean housing project for the embassy security employees was moving towards completion. A big backup generator had been added in case things went ape shit crazy there.

The timeline for the men to move in was next week. The men we had brought back from there were finished training and had been given a free week for whatever before they were flying back with the additional manpower for the site.

The new tarmac was now completely cured and being used, alleviating the overcrowding at the terminal and super hangar.

Andy was working with the engineers from Bobs Construction for the next round of improvements to Camp Smith for all the training that was going to have to happen.

The training end was going crazy since all the publicity connected with my Washington venture. Police departments and security groups from everywhere wanted their SWAT teams and departments to go though our training. It was not just from the US, but also Europe, Central America, South America and Asia. Our website training link was being hit hundreds of times an day.

The good thing out of all of this was that after the Africa trip, there would be ninety special OPS men and ladies to use for trainers for both embassy compliance and the law enforcement training. The year was going to be busy and I needed to be here and not in Washington. There were just less than two more months to go.

The down side was the continuing request for me to speak at all kinds of police and law enforcement seminars, conventions and other events. I informed the President’s staff early on that I would do no speaking tours. That was simply not me.

There were some organizations that would not accept no and tried going through JBG. All calls of that nature were directed to Cindy who added the names to a list that I had no intention to EVER look at.

I finished up Friday on the mats with both Ziva and Abra; it took a full thirty minutes in the hot tub and then another thirty minutes on the massage table to work out the kinks and pains. If I did not know better, I would have thought they were trying to kill me.

Saturday morning the girls and I met with Andy, Robert and the men and ladies who made up teams five and six. The girls wanted and were entitled to hear the complete plan at this stage. The final plans would be made as needed. All plans were made to be broken.

Saturday night was subdued but it was still family night. We had a big home cooked meal to save the hassle of bodyguards. We included the Moms and Dads along with Jake and Mindy.

After everyone left and it was just us girls with the boys in bed, the night was filled with intimacy. We were touching, feeling, fondling, kissing, hugging and crying until we satisfied and exhausted. Even then we did not go off to our to bed. We stayed on the big couch all tangled together under a quilt, not wanting to give up on the bonding.

Even though I tried to display total confidence in the mission – as Andy was calling it – there were still huge risks. There were so many things that could go wrong. So many of the pieces had to be pulled off exactly right. I knew the girls could sense it.

Sunday morning we met the family at the church for the early service. Mom had been trying ever since the boys were born for us to be regular members. For some reason this Sunday felt like a good time to go. It wasn’t far so we only took four Suburbans.

Sunday quickly became Monday and I was at Section Twelve early again. Ben and Frank were already there working on Balthazar’s questions and answers, but had not started the coffee.

With the coffee percolating I called them into my office and closed the door.

“Well?” I asked.

“We think one more session may finish all of our questions; the military guys want one more too,” Frank replied.

“Do you have assets in South Africa and access to aviation in Botswana?” I asked Frank.

“That’s a tall order right off hand; no. What’s going on there?” Frank asked.

“That’s classified; you know, need to know,” I replied.

“Do you want two more Iranian spies to question?” I asked.

“How could we not want them?” Ben replied.

“Have your people at the Gaborone Botswana airport Wednesday afternoon, hangar 43, to pick them up,” I said.

“Ben, when I leave today you will be in charge; I will not be back for a week. Vicky is your contact for the Doc and all things connected,” I said.

“The girls will have a way to contact me for emergencies by satellite phone. The phone will only be turned on for 5 minutes on even hours at the top of the hour during daylight,” I said.

“That sounds like something from the Mossad operations manual,” Frank replied.

I just winked and smiled. I opened the door to follow them out to see Troy and the President standing at the coffee pot and raiding the donuts on the pastry plate.

That will save me a trip upstairs, I thought.

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Chapter 517

The Doc did a physical on Balthazar Monday night and deemed him fit enough for questioning.

Tuesday was more of the same at Section 12. Tuesday night Ben, Frank, Agents Croft, Doyle and I questioned Balthazar while Vicky and Ching Lee looked on and learned. The session lasted three hours.

In a concession to Frank and Ben we video recorded the interrogation. But only Balthazar appeared in the video along with Ben’s voice.

Balthazar recognized me immediately. “You are one lucky infidel bitch. You are going to die a horrible death very soon at the hands of Allah’s servants,” he said just before the Doc hit him with the first dose.

Doc Burns used smaller doses, varying the doses and chemical mixture so as not to damage the heart or brain. Balthazar spent three hours in intense pain when he did not answer questions. It took the first 90 minutes to convince him he needed to be more forthright with his answers. We left him in the cell with the last meal of the day.

Tomorrow night we would do it again after dissecting his answers, comparing them to what we knew and what the men had learned at Gitmo. What we did know was that more arrests and search warrants would be in the works for tomorrow.
He also began to give us the military secrets of the IRG. Ben and Frank both wanted a foreign military intelligence person from the Pentagon to help in the questioning.

I was opposed and let it be known loudly. The more involved, the much greater the chance of leaks and fallout. After much discussion I finally relented with conditions.

The limit would be two. I needed to be careful about how many knew about Camp Smith and the goings on here other than the training we did there. Agents Croft and Doyle I trusted. They trained at Camp Smith and had worked the MSU attack and the raids on the learning centers. They knew the rules were bent as the situation called for it.

The Pentagon two would be checked for wires and they would be allowed no phones or other devices. They would eventually receive the edited tape of the questions they asked. They would be given a ‘what if’ scenario thirty minutes before they were picked up. What If we captured an Iranian military individual? What questions would they ask him?
Ben, Frank and I would use the connections we had within the Joint Chief of Staff to pick two tomorrow.

I spent more time in the tanning booth. I needed to be dark as if I had spent years in the sun; so did the Mossad ladies. Vicky and I were in there every night, after hitting the mats with the Mossad ladies. After three days I was able to hold my own against any of them, at least for a little while.

Wednesday morning, Tamim the cycle bomber was deemed well enough to be moved. He was going to the Federal Prison in Virginia for a short stay and isolation. The special terrorist judge agreed that he could be held as an enemy combatant; without counsel and no chance of bail pending a full review of all the evidence the various agencies had collected.

At 0900 Ben, Frank and I had a meeting with the joint chiefs. I thought they would take the lead in the discussion; I was wrong. I laid it out as a scenario and asked for names.

Major John Hoytman and Major Earle Brown were the two intelligence specialists that were finally chosen. They were ordered to be at the office at 1700 as were all the participants.

At 1730 we were all in the medical building where Balthazar was strapped to the table and the Doc was waiting.

“You must be so disappointed; I’m still breathing so no one has collected the bounty yet,” I said to Balthazar.

“Tonight’s session is going to be military questions. Do you need me to translate them to Persian or are we going to continue in English?” I said in Persian.

“I will do English,” he replied.

For the next three hours he answered questions only needing a few doses to keep him talking. Hoytman and Brown used maps, diagrams and other props to question him. At times they contradicted him when they knew he was trying to feed them lies.

The Doc finally ended the session; Balthazar was getting too weak according to his equipment. The military men were vocal that they needed to do another session after they had time to cross check what they had learned.

I needed a session to learn all I could about the Prince’s connections so Balthazar was going to live at least a couple more days.

After the session finished Balthazar was allowed to shower and clean up before he was carried back to the jail. At the jail I gave him his prayer mat and Quran that had been collected from his apartment. The Doc had x-rayed both of them to make sure there were no hidden weapons or suicide pills.

Thursday morning I was in Section 12 early; Andy picked the times he wanted things to happen. I just was along for the ride.

The second pot of coffee had stopped perking and I was on my second cup when the President, Troy, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs (who was a Marine), the Army Chief of Staff and the Commandant of the Marine Corps. Neither of the Chiefs looked happy. They did follow the lead of the President and Troy by getting a big cup of coffee before sitting down.

“You are on your own,” Troy replied.

General Jack Ingram Chairman JCS spoke first, “Yesterday when you talked with us the meeting was to be a scenario; this morning we find out that you have Guardian Colonel Faaz Fayeez Mohammad IRG in your custody and have apparently had him and been questioning him for more than a few days. Can you please tell me why the DOD is just finding out?”

“Sure; first you have to know and understand the operations were conducted under ‘The need to know protocol’ that is so often prevalent in matters of this level. He was arrested under the name of Balthazar Khamini as a terrorist in possession of remote controlled IEDs that were in the trunk of his car. Fingerprints and other evidence from Interpol said he was Gazi Asfour. We interrogated him as a terrorist.”

“With more in-depth investigation we found out he was Guardian Colonel Faaz Fayeez Mohammad. Our interrogations were beginning to be productive and moving towards the military arena. That is when we asked for your men yesterday,” I replied.

“Majors Hoytman and Brown indicated that you were going to allow them one more session with him. They think they need more,” General Ingram said.

“The drugs and tactics we are using take a terrible toll on the body and brain. The Doc has said that two or three more sessions and he will be dead. That said, I need one more session to clear up odds and ends for the task force; that leaves one for you; there may not be a third,” I replied.

“Just what the hell are you using on him?” Marine General Berger asked.

“Whatever mix and dosage it takes to make him talk; anything other than that is ‘Need to Know’ and you don’t need to know,” I replied.

“Mr. President; I protest. The military aspect of the interrogation is just too important to be limited to one more session,” the General said.

“I would not protest too loudly unless you intend to turn in your resignation, the Colonel is her prisoner and a terrorist; she is in control of the situation and out on the limb. She successfully argued her position and has been given carte blanche. Try negotiating; split the sessions up, work out something with her,” the President replied as he stood to leave.

The chairman went to the coffee pot and poured two cups; placed one in front of me and sat in the chair across from me.

“Where do we start? What can I offer you for a little more time with your prisoner?” he asked.

I called the Doc, “How many sessions are left in the Colonel before we kill him?”

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Chapter 516

Monday morning started off with a bang. The second pot of coffee had just finished percolating when Troy and the President walked in.

Troy was holding a folder that he put on the table while he filled his coffee mug. After he and the President had taken a seat, he slid the folder to me. It contained pictures from the Ambassador’s Ball. There had been flash drives given to everyone as we left.

I looked through them, realizing that I needed to do the same; print them off and write on the back who all the important people were to reminisce about if I lived long enough to get old.

The last dozen or so pictures were of me dancing with my mates, “Beautiful ladies indeed! I’m so lucky they are with me for life. It must drive some men mad that they are so beautiful, so wealthy, have no interest in men and are totally off limits,” I said.

“I was thinking the same thing; I hear they are driven and as determined as you” the President said as he closed the folder.

“All the feedback we have heard has been positive. You said the right words at the right times to people that make a living out of skewing one’s words for political or personal advantage,” Troy said. “Obviously well done.”

The President had only been gone a few minutes when Agent North called, “We have an attorney here from the DC center demanding to see the Muslim detainee to ensure that his religious needs are being properly supplied.” Nort replied.

“No name?” I asked.

“No Ma-am,” North replied.

“Tell him that our detainee is Catholic and the Cardinal is attending to his needs; then tell him to go pack sand in his ass and not to let the door hit him on the way out,” I replied.

“Ma-am, are you sure you want me to tell him that?” North replied.

“Do I need to repeat it for you?” I asked.

“No Ma-am!” Agent North replied.

I turned my attention to Gitmo and Agents Croft and Doyle with an MTAC call.

“How is the prisoner doing? Have you learned anything worthwhile?” I asked.

“Yes we have learned a lot of things, it is all written down. We stopped recording the interrogation after your instructions and put all of it on paper. The recordings were destroyed as per your instructions,” Croft replied.

“Good job. You read the meaning I was trying to give,” I replied.

“The C130 from Morton should land in a couple of hours; pack everyone up. Clean up the prisoner, put him in a new jump suit and bag him. All of you will accompany him back to Morton. At Morton you will be met by an intelligence team that will take custody of the prisoner and all documentation you put together. I state again, ALL documentation,” I instructed.

I called the Doc, “You need to do a physical to evaluate the suspect’s condition to make sure he can handle the first session tomorrow night,” I replied. The Doc and I decided we would string this out to make sure there would be ample time to extract every bit of information this time.

It would be after dark when the C130 returned; it was still too risky for me to be out and about. Andy, Vicky and only a select few men would know the Colonel was here; Vicky was going to have to do the honors tonight and monitor things for me and learn from Andy.

I spent the next two hours going through the data that had been filtering in all morning from all the warrants that had been executed Friday and over the weekend. We had another dozen people in custody under terrorism or conspiracy charges.

The whole thing was ballooning out of control. With the arrests over the weekend, since my start as chairperson of the Task Force, over five hundred had been arrested for terrorism or terrorism related charges and were awaiting prosecution or had been convicted.

There were another two thousand persons who were now under surveillance or investigation for various terrorism related activities or suspicion of terrorism.

With all the terrorism things going on the House and Senate had passed the bill authorizing a separate agency independent of the Justice Department; cabinet level to be filled by the President to fight terrorism.

The layout was to be unique compared to the other agencies. The Director was to be appointed by the President. The Senate and the House anti-terrorism committees were each to appoint two assistant directors as well as the FBI, CIA, DHS and the NSA as an advisory group to the Director. The Director was to report directly to the President.
The final makeup for the agency was being debated behind closed doors today. Both Ben and I were to assist in developing that final makeup and that was to start after lunch today. In the days to come, we were to help write the guidelines, protocols and other boring things that I had thrown out the window.

Bill and my security team picked me up early today. Ed was somewhere over the Atlantic headed towards South Africa with team four. They would be there tomorrow and were to pick up the guides for their hunt two days later.

Robert, Andy, Vicky and I had a long meeting in the command center putting together more of the plans for when the last team and I were to arrive at Polokwane.

Elaborate cover and deception had to be put in place and working. To deal with the hotels security systems and communications, Robert was going with several computers.

Planes to get everyone out had to be in place at other airports. They all could not fly directly to the United States. Teams one and two would fly to Rio de Janeiro then on to Colombia before returning to Morton, a trip that would take a week.

Teams three and four were flying to Windhoek, then on general aviation to Madrid, finally on to Morton on a JBG plane. Past those plans, it was going to be seat of the pants planning.

I had just left the command center when my phone rang. Just when I thought things should be mellowing down, the US version of European street terror attacks hit. A car driven by a recent Sudanese immigrant drove onto a busy New Orleans street party at high speed. Dozens were dead and tens of dozens injured.

The Task Force had been expecting that kind of attack to show up here soon and I feared it was only the beginning. Worse, there was little that could be done to prevent them. Worse again, our own government may be an accomplice in a future mass casualty attack.

Task Force investigations found out that the Department of Immigration and the Department of Labor entered into an agreement to train men from the Middle East to be truck drivers. Thousands had taken over the taxi business and now the Department of Immigration felt their skill levels qualified them to be truck drivers.

Not just any truck drivers, but tractor trailers carry hazardous materials including fuels, explosives and nuclear waste. They trained them to be class A drivers with all the certifications and even found them jobs. The Department of Immigration even paid for the training through one of its many special programs.

I ordered the program stopped. One by one, they were being investigated; we had a long way to go. So far, twenty four were found to be visiting radical sites or active in radical groups.

The driver of the car in New Orleans had been on the waiting list for truck driver training. You win some and you lose some. I hated to lose any.

The next few days were more of the same; planning and double checking plans. Robert was reading the Prince’s emails and tracking all the crazy banking things he did.

I was better and the four Mossad ladies were putting me through the ropes in the gym. I warmed up with Kathryn and some of the Feds and then a couple hours with them. I was relearning how to do self defense and offense even better.

I soon learned why Mossad were considered one of the best trained there was. They never quit training.

I had already spent several hours at the gun range’s indoor range. It had been weeks since I was able to do that. Andy and the Mossad ladies insisted that I spend time there.

I have to admit I had gotten a little rusty, soft government jobs will do that to you. It took 500 rounds through the weapons that I normally practiced with to get back where I was.

Then Andy threw a wringer on me. We were not taking our weapons. Ben-David had sent another pallet of goodies after his last visit; there was also a pallet located near the airport at Polokwane.

There were Russian and Iranian pistols along with full auto assault rifles. We could leave them behind to throw anyone looking afterwards a curve, especially the spent casings. It also meant less risk returning home on general aviation with weapons for the men.

It was one of many pages from the Mossad covert operations manual we were putting into use on this operation.

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Chapter 515

Friday afternoon we had a long meeting. There were progress reports on everything that had happened in the last few weeks.
Vicky and Jake were pleased with the construction progress at the dorm for the security team at South Korea. If they were satisfied, then I was too.

The State Department and the CIA had approved the list of new hires that were going there.

All of them were to be here in two weeks for training. The first week would be used for administrative training and mandatory State Department protocol training. The next week the African safari would be over and the OPS team could help in the advanced training on the mats, at Camp Smith and the gun range.

The subpoenas had been received last week for us to give depositions to the legal team for the Malcolm Wicks discrimination law suit. His legal team wanted thousands of pages of records delivered to their offices.

Our corporate attorney Curtis Warren and Howard, Howard and Fine argued and won to have them come to our offices in four weeks. Sometime before then I needed to review what the job posting was that he applied for, what his resume said and how close the two were.

HR handled all of that; I generally stayed out of it. When I needed someone with specific qualifications for the security division, I told them what I was looking for and let them do the rest.

Lorrie gave an update on the aviation division; the Blackhawk helicopter inspections were finished. One of them would meet the time requirement for a major overhaul before next year’s inspection.

The Air Force was evaluating operation readiness of our C5s in preparation for decisions on the next one. I guess I was not listening or hadn’t read the details of the Air Force contract. I was under the impression that they were to be a year apart, not a few months. They were holding up their end of the contract with paying flights almost weekly so I guess I should not complain. It was just more of the reams of paper and meetings anytime one had contracts with the government.

The final meeting was with Andy and Bill and the four Mossad ladies. We were part of the last group going to Polokwane. We spent an hour going over various plans for the Prince and the disguises we would need. The final plan would depend on all the pieces coming together and had to be made with just hours to spare. Any pieces coming up short or failing would spell disaster.

The girls and I spent two hours in the gym and I needed it. Then I spent family time with the boys, finally giving them baths and bed. After they were asleep it was family time in the living room holding, touching and talking.

We could have gone to the play room in the basement and any other time would have, but those were not the needs tonight. Being close and talking filled the needs. We all knew we were at a serious place in our lives with the threats against me and the rest of us. We also knew they were coming to a head in the next few weeks.

I knew they all wanted to be a part of it. They wanted to exact revenge as badly as I did. We talked about that for a while; in the end they understood why they could not go. For the sake of two little boys sleeping in the other room; the two babies Lorrie and Ching Lee were carrying and the thousands of employees we had and for family, it was not possible. It was just too risky.

Saturday morning I did a MTAC with special agents Croft and Doyle. Colonel Faaz Mohammad had decided he needed to talk once he knew his cover was blown. What he was saying was nothing that we could not get from the Iranian news channel and of course the Iranian propaganda line. His body was getting sore but he was still resisting.

I called the Doc to find out what kind of shape he needed to be in to get the most out of him when he was on the table at Camp Smith. I did not want the agents to work him over so badly that he died quickly under the drugs. They were good to go with the instructions I had given them.

I scheduled one of our C130s to pick the group up Monday afternoon and the Doc for the first round Monday night and each night after until either he was dead or I killed him.

The Doc wanted to experiment; one hard session a night to see what the body of someone in shape could stand. The Colonel was in great shape and kept it hidden under layers of baggy clothes.

Would the body eventually shut down under the repeated massive pain or would the mind go insane first? The Colonel had plenty of questions to be asked when he got here. The Doc has a very sadistic streak.

At 1400 the McBride ladies showed up, the hair dresser shortly thereafter. We had a great conversation and I found out that Bob Jackson and his wife Emily had also been invited to the gala and had accepted.

At 1700 hours the group of us was convoyed to the German embassy retreat just on the outskirts of DC. It was a large compound the German embassy used for conferences, meetings and rest and relaxation. It had an Olympic size covered heated pool. It had large stables and a horse riding area.

The large conference room had tables with silk tablecloths and chairs for a traditional German meal. Instead of a buffet line the waiters first brought out appetizers on carts. The waiters and waitress spoke in German then switched to English if you did not respond to the German as they asked what you wanted on the plate and the dressing.

We girls had them on as all of us could speak German and had a good time with them ordering our food.

For drink there was warm beer of several varieties. I hated warm beer and was relieved when they offered cold beer.
The main course was sauerbraten, roast goose, labskaus and hasenpfeffer. The desert was baumkuchen, a kind of chocolate cake.

The social hour after the meal was entertaining and educational. Every Ambassador there made sure to speak to me in a social way. More than one invited me to their country to speak on terrorism.

Everyone was having a good time and the dancing was getting ready to start.

The covered arena had been cleared and cleaned and the band was warming up.

The music was a mix of everything, fast, slow, polka; we danced to it all. It felt good to dance with Gordon again; it had been a while.

During the social hour I asked the band conductor to play five slow close dancing songs and signal me when they started.

Then I broke all the rules and danced a dance close and tight with Jenny, Lorrie, Marcy, Vicky, and Ching Lee, whispering sweet things and undying love to them. My mates took the hint and did the same with their partner and then swapped off.

The lights were down and if anyone noticed, they did not say anything. There were a few smiles of those who were dancing close to us.

Saturday night soon became Monday morning and back to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

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