Book 2 Chapter 141
At 1600 shit hit the fan again in several ways; the Oregon governor held a news conference announcing an agreement with the White House to end the homeless problems.
He explained that the state government would fund this project with one hundred million a year for five years. Twenty five million was authorized immediately to HUD and FEMA to supply temporary shelter, food, medical and clothing. The homeless were to be moved from the streets to FEMA tents as in California. The state was going to borrow the money if necessary.
He explained that martial law would be in effect to help carry out the military working with FEMA. There would be no arrests of state and local officials.
The next thing, someone had leaked from Gitmo the growing list of charges against the California politicians. The emails and bank accounts collaborated millions in bribes and kickbacks between officials and unions along with the Chinese running the state’s largest international port.
In the news, the Chinese managers of the port were seen leaving for China on private jets.
Tonight was my turn to host Caroline and her family in the political barrel. I was hosting another meet and greet and fancy meal for selected people.
Members of the Senate judiciary committee were on the list. Chief Justice Burger, Justice Copeland and Curtis Warren were also in attendance. Marcy, Jenny and my little men would be here in a few minutes. Ching Lee and Vicky were at home resting up from too many hours in the air.
Justice Copeland and her family were leaving for Hawaii on Saturday in one of the long range business jets.
It was another great meal put on by the White House chefs. There was no doubt that I had to schedule time in the gym every day – or else. The conversation was lively and friendly.
We had been talking after the meal for two hours when an aide from downstairs almost ran into the room and handed me a note.
Most of the downstairs offices were staffed twenty four hours a day. The second floor was Joint Chiefs, the intelligence group, CIA, NSA, and the group that fed information to the two guys handling the football.
The note was from the CIA desk, ”You need to come down here ASAP.”
I excused myself and almost ran to the elevator. At the Joint Chiefs station the CIA guys were there. On the wall screens were satellite images – the best the CIA could produce.
There was a firefight going on. On the ground and in the air, there was aviation involved. I recognized aviation as JBG Air Tractors and I was willing to bet the helicopters were JBG as well. I looked at the location index at the bottom of the picture. The location was forty miles west of Kano, Nigeria, which was sixty miles west of where the last village was destroyed by Boko-Haram and all the bodies were found.
I sent an aide upstairs to get Marcy, Jenny and the two boys, ”Tell the guests I will be back in a few minutes.”
The room had multiple computers and screens attached to big flat screens. I sat at the nearest one and logged into the internet, then onto JBG’s system and then onto the ID card system. The ID card system was what JBG issued to every employee; all forty five thousand of them and all seventy thousand college students and administrators.
The card had a locator and identification chip in it that could be activated by satellite to identify, locate and track the individual, if necessary. These cards were expensive as hell. They had helped us locate missing college students, cleared others of crimes and helped convict a few of crimes.
Now only IF there was a satellite connected to the system and IF it was close enough and powerful enough to activate it and receive the responding signal. The vendor promised worldwide coverage; did it really cover the most god forsaken places in the world?
The system was searching and the CIA guys were watching, wondering what the hell I was doing with a classified White House computer on open internet.
The satellite finally found something and the whole screen flashed tags. Lots of tags.
Jenny, Marcy and the two little ones came in. I put the two little ones in a chair beside me, ”Sit, look and don’t touch anything, please,” I said.
”These are the JBG men in Africa in this area. They are in the fight we are looking at,” I said for the CIA men.
By looking at the satellite screen and the screen with the IDs, we could put names with the tags. I clicked the search box and added a tab to each tag giving the name and rank. There were one hundred and thirty names on the screen.
”Son of a bitch, look at that,” one of the CIA guys said louder than he intended. Rockets were being fired from the aircraft and helicopters. The puff of ignition and the explosion of what it hit could be seen on the CIA screen.
On the satellite screen four Air Tractors were flying with two helicopters and on the ground were three dozen vehicles or more.
We watched the dance as the Air Tractors were rolling and diving, getting set up and firing more rockets. On the other screen, there were men moving and running.
They had changed flying tactics now. They were flying straight. I knew what they were doing, they were street sweeping using the mini-guns. Killing everything in the brush and on the ground.
After a few minutes the helicopters moved in replacing the planes. The planes only carried five thousand rounds for the mini guns. The helicopters carried twenty five thousand in two racks and the barrels were water cooled.
The aircraft flew off in circles and patterns; they were looking for anyone that had gotten away. The helicopters stayed to provide cover.
I turned my attention to the JBG screen watching, looking to see if all the tags were moving. Several weren’t; they were either dead or injured. Others started to assemble around them. I knew, I looked at Marcy and Jenny; from their expressions, they knew.
I clicked the tags and expanded the box giving the data I didn’t really want to see. Ray Emory, David Boggs, Clyde Jenson, Devon Jackson – all former Black Bear – all soldiers for hire.
The other men were scoping the area, checking to make sure all Boko-Haram were dead and checking for intelligence. I closed down the computer after deleting recent files and history then hit the disc clean tab.
I had learned the disk clean tab was a security feature on the high security computers. When activated it cleaned the disc – except for the basic programs – and over-wrote storage sections several times with junk before the last cleanup.
”Use your fancy imaging, count the number of dead Boko-Haram and let me know,” I said.
”What should we put in the reports for tomorrow?” one of the agents asked.
”The truth – as you saw it happen. I will expect a copy sent to my desk in the morning,” I said as we left to go back to the party.
An hour later the party and conversations were winding down. Everyone seemed happy and were smiling. I guess they had heard things they liked. The Senate hearings started on Monday for Caroline’s appointment, with a vote on Friday to complete the process.
The liberals were likely to try to derail her nomination but the polling by my staff and the party said it was a done deal. It was another mark of accomplishment for my short administration.
February had gone into the history books and we were halfway through March. Early spring was here and predicted to stay through the end of the month.
The girls wanted to go to Deep Water Cay for a week’s vacation. It had been a busy winter. I agreed we should go. Lorrie had moved things so most of the properties would be vacant the last week of March. That would allow plenty of rooms for all the required people.
There was also another reason to go. The island next to the Cay had gone on the market in the winter. It was larger than the Cay by fifty acres and had a long wide gravel airstrip on it. Lorrie and Marcy bought it and wanted us to inspect it.
JBG now owned two islands – two hundred and forty acres of dormant volcano in the middle of Hurricane Alley. Just how crazy is that I thought.
But it didn’t have any rental units so was a limited return on investment. We didn’t care about that – just more privacy for now. It did have one large mansion retreat that needed repairs and upgrades.
The week would be interrupted by the three fund raising events but they were all in the south – technically close – so they would be only a minor interruption.
With the meet and greet winding down I asked if any of the guests need a driver to take them home since alcohol had been served.
I didn’t want to see any news reports that would cause anyone trouble from any party I held.
After answering the boys’ questions about tonight and after they were asleep, my mates took a long hot shower together. It was a great relaxing evening, one that helped make me ready to face tomorrow.
I was up early for coffee and reading the intelligence updates. The folder from last night’s adventure was included in the Africa update. Three hundred and twelve Boko-Haram had been killed.
A text update from Andy informed me that JBG had lost four men and had a dozen with other injuries last night. Handling it would be up to the girls now. There was no way I could intervene and help them now.
The next text from Andy said a C130 was taking replacements and to pick up the dead and injured. The problem was handled.
I walked Marcy, Jenny and the boys out to the Bell 406 that was carrying them back home and hugged them good bye.
The National Security Council meeting was today at 1100. I was sure there would be discussion and more information and then again, there may not.
The JBG group there was contracted to Nigeria through a grant from the CIA. It was a complicated tangle of international dealing, deaths and intrigue; the kind that books and movies are made of.
The NSA, CIA, M4 and Mossad all had a part of it. Two of the men there were British M4 and four were Mossad. The M4 were James Bond types, same as our CIA. There was one CIA agent included in the team.
The British were paying to have the two men there. The CIA was part of the inner JBG intelligence group and so was Mossad, so it was information sharing plus the Mossad was supplying JBG with weapons we could not legally buy – no questions asked.
The British wanted to be on the in circle. The people they sent to discuss it were arrogant and cocky with an attitude. They were told we didn’t see them as a fit in our group. Then things got busy and follow up conversations went by the wayside.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.