Copy and paste got me and the upgrade from W7 to W10. Thanks to those that sent a note, Jack

My G5 with the girls, JJ, RJ, Ziva, Farah, Abra and the three former Mossad agents on board landed at Andrews at three Wednesday afternoon. Driving over and home would all be in rush hour and take hours. With the G5 it was a twenty minute flight each way.

I lucked out packing for the trip; this time the boys did not help me pack, Jenny did. She had an eye picking out the right outfits and matching jewelry.

The flight was a truce with the boys. They wanted to fly with me every time I went somewhere. They could fly to Andrews and back home with the girls. We said our goodbyes in the G5 out of sight of so many people wandering around.

We were parked next to Air Force 2 and that made it very easy to transfer our bags. The extra Secret Service agents I had asked for were waiting in the lounge for me to arrive. There were also two State Department negotiators going along this time.

The long flight gave me more time to review the information and sleep – which I did.

We arrived before daybreak at the Islamabad International Airport and were carried in a motorcade to the Islamabad Hilton hotel. It was in a government protected district, as were the other high end hotels.

Pakistan had had incidents years ago where foreign government aides and influential visitors were killed and kidnapped by various terrorists. They paid heavily to restore international faith in their ability to provide security.

The CIA and Secret Service had scanned the group of rooms for electronic bugs just before we arrived and the rooms would be guarded by the Secret Service the whole time we were there.

Ziva, Farah and Abra were staying in the same room I was. It was a suite with several beds. They were my last ditch security if anything happened. The Secret Service was monitoring the halls, lobby and elevators.

Breakfast was delivered by room service under the watchful eye of the Secret Service and Pakistan security. At 0800 we left in a multi-vehicle convoy with diplomats from the UK and France. The meeting was to start at 0930.

My security insisted that I wear a heavy vest while traveling, even though I was wearing the light body armor under my clothes. We were thirty minutes into the ride when an IED blew up the lead Pakistan police vehicle.

Seconds later the unmistakable swoosh of an RPG blew up the last Pakistan police vehicle, trapping the center vehicles. We were sitting ducks; these vehicles were not well armored. Then the gunfire from AK47s started – there was plenty of it – and it was getting closer. There was no way to tell if they were the Pakistan army or the terrorists.

Radio traffic said there were terrorists in army uniforms walking beside the vehicles, firing into them.

”We have no chance trapped in the vehicles but out there we have a fighting chance,” I said.

The Mossad girls and the two Secret Service agents agreed. I ordered a ten second plan.

”The front seat shoots to the front of the convoy and the rear seat towards the rear of the convoy. On three, one, two three,” I said.

Ziva, Abra, Farah and the Secret Service all had MP5s with thirty round magazines and I had my Glock with four thirteen round magazines. Out the doors we went.

The terrorists were just four vehicles away of what had been a twelve vehicle convoy. There were six on my side – I went out the right rear door behind Abra. We were shooting to the rear. Ziva and Farah out the front were shooting to the front. The rest of my security and the Secret Service agents went out the left doors shooting.

I took six rounds in the heavy vest from a full auto AK47 from the street before I could put three slugs into him – one a head shot. Then I killed two more on the sidewalk shooting at us.

A few seconds later all the shooting had stopped – the street was clear of bystanders. That told me there was a second attack coming or some of the cars parked were loaded as car bombs.

All my security were bleeding from shrapnel with flesh wounds. Without knowing who to trust, we needed to get out of here.

There were only four vehicles with survivors divided up between the French, UK and ours.

The French were the front most with all living inside, ”Try to push the vehicle in front of you ahead so you can get out,” I said.

With smoking tires they gained four feet of room, more than enough. Our four vehicles pulled out running over bodies lying in the way using part of the sidewalk, not stopping.

”Take us on to the peace talks meeting, there is more security there,” I said.

On the way we did first aid on our injured with gauze, tape and bandages from the limited first aid kits; enough to do the job, at least temporarily.

I wanted to go there because Iranian representatives were to be there. If they were, they were going to be dead as soon as I saw them. No one else could be behind the attack on my convoy. It was the first attack on an international delegation in fifteen years.

By the time we arrived the news had broken along with video posted on terrorist web sites. As I expected, an Iranian supported group took credit for killing the American, French and United Kingdom delegations. They were wrong on one account; we were the ones still alive and not among the dead as were the other delegations they had targeted.

What they had killed was the Syrian, Turkish, and Jordanian delegations that were staying in the same hotel as we were. The very countries that may have been sympathetic to their position, they had now alienated.

The real Pakistan military and police had arrived at the scene in numbers, only to be the victims of a car bomb. To complicate matters, one of the ambulances that showed up to pick up the injured was a suicide truck bomb.

We arrived at the majestic hall where the peace talks were to be held. We quickly went inside to a hall that was packing up – the talks had already been canceled. Iran was already gone as soon as the word reached the body of the attack. The Iranian delegation left so quickly that they left all their notes, talking points and records on their assigned tables.

I sent my security to collect them – not the Secret Service agents who would balk because of some international protocol.

I had a serious discussion with the Pakistani security minister in charge of the peace talks. I was not happy and I let him know it. He was not happy and soon the Pakistan army was going to know.

Thirty minutes later we were on our way to Air Force 2. As soon as we were there I split the security into two groups. One was to stay with me and one to go get all of our belongings and the agents who had stayed guarding the rooms.

While they were gone I did a VCATS with the girls and Andy to let them know I was OK.

I did an MTAC to the White House where no one was happy and obviously didn’t want to hear from me other than I was OK.

There was a heated discussion on where the breakdown in security had happened. I found out that foreign VIP visitors were only allowed personal bodyguards. The host country was to provide travel security and site security.

If the visitors’ security teams has any intel of activity, it was to be relayed to the host country to investigate and give it a threat level. Then standard protocol was to eliminate the threat or make necessary changes in security including sites, travel plans or lodging. All this was handled through the Secret Service travel
department that supposedly worked all these things out months in advance, including test runs on the routes.

With everyone back aboard an hour later, we were picking up speed on the departure runway. The Vice President’s travel doctor – who went on all trips – was taking care of the scrapes, bumps and minor wounds.

We had been extremely lucky that no one had been killed or had serious injuries. When the Secret Service agents saw that my JBG personal security were wearing body armor, they decided they would as well. That decision had saved lives.
Four of the Secret Service agents had taken rounds in vital areas. They would be sore, black and blue and on light duty for weeks and months of therapy I was sure; that was just the way government worked.

The Pakistan elite forces had lost the lead two and trailing two vehicles and all in them – some twelve soldiers along with an unknown number of regular police forces.

Syria, Iraq, Turkish and Jordanian delegations were completely wiped out, to the man. Thirty two delegates, aides and body guards were dead. With the eight of us shooting, we had killed sixteen terrorists.

There were twelve walking along the vehicles, shooting into them, and four on the sidewalk providing cover fire. It was one of those four who had put the rounds into my vest.

After downing a mix of over the counter pain killers, we slept most of the flight home. I had ordered that all of my assigned team to put the day in writing, leaving out nothing for their benefit and mine.

Congressional investigators would have a field day trying to get all the air time they could, looking to pin the tail of blame on the donkey where ever he or she was hiding. More fun times ahead.

The President and many of his staff and my mates were waiting -along the news media in numbers too many to count – when the plane landed at Andrews.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.