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.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.