Things had some sort of normalcy on Monday. The jet carrying the pilots and mechanics left in time to be plenty early at Travis AFB. There was excitement brewing with the aviation group. Everyone in Lorrie’s group knew something out of the ordinary was up, but knew better than to ask outright.

I stopped over to the gym before driving on to KCC. The gym was overrun with 80 men and ladies. HR had the first crack at them then it was to the doctor’s group for physicals. When they came back from there, they were divided groups of five with two of the RRTs to work through the training cycle.

Ching Lee, her administrators and clerks would be back tomorrow and would help with the training.

One of the Bombardiers carried the forty to Dulles to go to Africa. I didn’t envy them for the flight. We had flown direct and it was 14 hours. With the commercial flight, with layovers, it was over 24 hours.

At KCC today I was putting three different presentations together for the three professors as I had promised to do. I was going to do one each day and be off Friday again.

It was a real chore to come up with three different presentations that did not get into classified materials. But, by the time to go home I had it all on paper.

At our afternoon meeting the girls were already planning things to keep me busy when I was there full time. Marcy sent me a schedule of the county business association meetings. She wanted me to replace her with that group. I suspected there would be more as the time went by.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday at KCC moved like a snail; I spent four hours each day giving a presentation on the African trip to a bunch of spoiled wealthy brats. In the process I collected a dozen cell phones in one class. They were lucky I did not have a bucket of water to put them in.

The Thursday class was the best one of the three. They were graduating this year, with many of them looking for a place in the world. They asked good questions with a couple of the students really into the Nimule refugee camp part of the trip.

Where I had fast tracked some of the pictures in the other classes, Robin Parsons and Phil Jameson wanted to see each one and have me describe every one.

They were even asking questions after the bell with all the other students gone. It was a good thing this was the last class of the day. I stayed an extra half hour answering questions from those two.

On Friday I joined in on helping with the training; it was refreshing to get physical. Some of the new hires didn’t think so after they picked themselves up off the mats several times. That would change after a couple of weeks when the pieces came together.

At noon Frank walked in with a handful of folders. “I have everything that Uganda sent; let’s go to your office.”

With the door closed, “You were right Aadam Mohamed was in the building.”

“Damn, Uganda has had this information for six weeks and did not send it to us. It took a personal appeal from the Sec of State to get it.”

“There were 18 persons in the 515 Nubulagla Road house you blew it up, from the DNA they found.”

“The office is running the DNA on the master computers now. So far the only two they have identified was Aadam and Dagar Daharr; he was the son of the mayor of Minneapolis Minnesota,” Franks said.

“Daharr means darkness in Arabic,” I replied then I asked, “Has there been any indication that the family knew he may have been killed? Have they been looking for him, are there any signs of a funeral, memorial or a celebration of his passage to meet his virgins?”

“That is another good point to look at,” Frank replied.

“Can you get your group to run his name to see what they come up with?”

“Sure, but it will take some time. You are the one with the full bucket; my guys have to build the bucket as they go,” I replied.

“You and that damn bucket, you know you have half the department referring the data bank as the bucket now and they are always looking for crumbs and blind mice,” Frank replied with a laugh.

We spent the next hour looking at the data on Dagar Daharr. The DHS and agency both had him under surveillance for some time.

“Frank; if you had him under surveillance; how did he leave the country with anyone knowing it?” I asked.

“If I could answer that question we would not be having this discussion. To put it plainly, a lot of somebody’s missed the crumb trail.”

“It doesn’t really matter now we know where he is. What matters is how many more are missing from the area that went with him. That is the question you should be asking your people to figure out,” I replied.

“I guess you have done all the normal things; cell phone calls, text, data, e-mails, contacts list and cross number checks?” I asked.

“No, we had no probable cause and no real reason to do so because no one had filed any missing person’s reports with the police,” Frank replied.

“Frank you do understand that they would never go to anyone outside of their beliefs for that; they would not go to the police.”

“If he were killed in the middle of the street that would be one thing. You can be sure someone knew where he was going; definitely the Imam for the blessings on his trip. He may have been calling home, same as Aadam.”

“If he was under surveillance and went missing, why didn’t that alone raise a flag? You have far too many holes in your system,” I said.

“Frank, you have a lot of work to do to a trail that grows colder by the hour. If he left the States without setting off any flags, that means he and possibly a group drove across the border to a Canadian airport and flew direct to India or Pakistan.”

“I doubt that any of those countries do any checking on incoming passengers.” I said. Then I added, “The real question is how many are active in his group that is still in Minneapolis that his martyrdom will stir up when it is finally known for sure that he has perished” I said.

We talked for another hour with several agencies including Eric at DHS. Frank was getting ready to shut it down when another possible identity from the DNA collected at 515 was materializing.

The technician on the other end said, “There is a 90% match to the Saudi Royal family. The victim is possibly a grand child by the markers to the King or his brothers.”

“Damn,” was all I could say?

“Has any of the family turned up missing or disappeared from sight?” I asked Frank. Then I added, “The only way we would find out would be by an accidental slip up.

Frank shut down his access on my VCATS, “I have a lot to do; I will call you with any updates,”

After Frank left I stayed in my office to think this through. I had killed another member of the Royal family and too many people knew. This had the potential to get messy, real messy.

Anton knew about the latest, too many in our government knew, especially when even classified materials were being hacked a hundred times a day.

It was only a matter of time before the Saudi family knew. They could retaliate or wise up and get out of the terrorist business and that was highly unlikely. They had lived and survived terrorists and terrorism from the beginning.

I needed to know more; a lot more that was updated frequently. I wished I could get more in the loop; with the embassy security contract all I had routine access to was the embassy alert system. Anything more was piecemeal and only case necessary.

I wondered if the new computer system Robert ordered was good enough to hack NSA and how big a building it would take to hold the servers that it would take to have a copy of the bucket that they had.

Then I realized that I did not need the whole bucket, only the part of it that covered the Middle East and Africa where my security people were working but how would one sort that out. That was something to work at later.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.