Bjjonesmylife. Book 2

We moved Rafi Quastri from the jail to the medical building and the Doc began his work. It took just one big dose to make him talk and talk he did; about everything.

He answered every question and the dozens more that his answers caused us to ask. When he finished we had an outline of how the operation was run. We had the connections in the Middle East and Africa and also who was pulling the strings. The names of all we already had were also included.

He even gave us the backup communications, plans and emergency phone numbers to reach the Princes.

Even more important, we had the contingency planning along with names of who was to step up to take over if Rafi Quastri and Gamal Ameen – his assistant – were to be arrested or die.

The surprise was the camps – they had been operating prior to 9-11- and the sheer numbers that had been through them. Even more surprising was who some of the instructors were. Several had spent time at Gitmo and were now teaching at the camps.

Just how in the hell did a terrorist who spent years at Gitmo end up teaching his trade at terrorist camps in the USA?

Frank and Eric were as surprised as I was. To make matters worse, Eric and Frank’s agencies had been watching the apartment complex for years. All of the instructors for the NY camp were living in the apartment complex – according to Rafi Quastri – and he was proud of it.

I cornered both Frank and Eric “You need to do a complete investigation of your agents assigned to the college and the Rochester office. Something is drastically wrong!” I said.

“It’s going to take years to sort through all the information gathered in the last few days,” Eric replied.

“We don’t have years, just the size and scope of the information should tell you weeks or a month or two at best before the next attack. If they had been able to carry out the games attack, we would have had a terrorist attack every month for the last six months, either at home or abroad against the US,” I said.

“Let’s ask him again when and where the next attacks are planned and then end this. We have been at it six and a half hours as it is. All of us have to work tomorrow,” Eric replied.

“I told you the football game attacks were the only thing planned for the next few months. They were the Prince’s big push and then everything was going back into the training-planning stage for a while along with lying low.”

“All the communications were going to be restructured; new phones and computer programs for the web. Then we were going to start a lot of new groups in different cities. Your way of life is doomed! Admit it; it is only a matter of time. You cannot win,” he said.

We had walked off a distance to talk; the Doc was with us.

“His statement about having a break of a couple months went out the window with the raids. There will be a power struggle as soon as they get organized. Someone will want to prove they are capable of leading the groups. New attacks will be carried out soon,” I replied.

“I think we are finished. Doc, take your equipment off; we need to call it a night. I wanted both of them done but that is not going to happen,” I said.

Just then there was a moan then a groan. Alarms started ringing on the Doc’s equipment. We ran in to see what was going on. Doc Burns worked on him for ten minutes.

“He is dead; he must have had an aneurysm,” he said as he was shutting down all the alarms and was removing equipment.

“He was going to die anyhow, saved us the trouble. All we have to do now put him in the chipper,” I replied.

“You do know I own 80% of the crematorium down the road, don’t you?” the Doc said. Then he added, “A hundred dollars worth of gas and it’s guaranteed no trace ever and nothing to clean up but a little ash.

“Sounds good to me; all that chlorine can’t be doing the pond any good,” I replied.

Vicky and I helped load the corpse in the back of Doc’s SUV, he was going to leave the equipment until we finished with it tomorrow night. Then we followed him to the crematorium.

Once there, Doc showed and explained to Vicky and me step by step how to load the corpse into the furnace and the settings. We watched through the window as the flames surrounded the corpse, the temperatures went past 1000 degrees and kept climbing.

“It’s automatic; it will shut off when there is nothing left. Here is a key if you need it and I’m not around. If there is heat coming from the stack, it is in use and you will have to wait a while,” Doc said.

Even though it was near midnight, Vicky and I both headed for the hot tub. We were soon joined by Marcy, Jenny, Ching Lee and Lorrie. For 30 minutes we had fun in the tub.

At Section 12 I was waiting – with the information on the Mexico terrorist training site – for the President and Troy to walk in. They did not disappoint; the second pot of coffee was just finishing up.

I went through the pictures and all the information on the training camp in Mexico.

The President asked me to stop until the Assistant Secretary of State Steven Crowley could join us. It would only be few minutes.

The delay was not an issue; I just changed to the two that were located in the US. The federal prosecutor Devon Cass joined in on the discussion after I asked him if we could get search and arrest warrants for the two sites.

It was agreed that we would watch the sites until Friday morning, then execute the searches.

“I would really like for all three to be hit the same day and time. If we hit the two here the one in Mexico will be a ghost camp in a matter of hours,” I said.

I got a text from Robert to call him immediately.

“I’m sending you a file, it was password locked and encrypted differently. You are not going to like it. You may want to review it privately first,” he said just as my phone dinged that I had email.

I had my laptop with me and looked at the files, “Oh crap.”

The files spelled a disaster; it was 200 names long. Names from the FBI, DHS, INS, TSA, CIA, Coast Guard and State department, they were all taking bribes, payoffs or being blackmailed from the terror group and the cartel. The files had dates, places, and amounts of the bribes; some files even had pictures of the individuals and other notes.

I called Frank, Eric and Marty, “You need to come to the White House, ASAP as in Now. You are not going to like what has been found.”

Then I called Dave Carmine director of the TSA and Stu Abrams director of the INS and gave them the same message.

“Are you going to tell us what is so bad?” Troy asked getting impatient.

“I am printing you off a copy. While I am doing that, call the Commandant of the Coast Guard and the director of the CGIS. Tell them to come here now. Tell them it is not a request but a direct order from the President, if that is what it takes,” I said.

I printed off ten copies and placed one in front of Troy and the President.

“What am I looking at?” the President asked.

“This is a list of US security personnel by agency who are taking bribes from the terrorist and cartels,” I replied, then added.

“This list came from a captured computer that was used by the controller that Saif reported to.”

I started checking every name against the GSA employees list. Every employee of the United States government – past and present – was in their files.

Troy called in a couple of his aides to do the same thing. I had done three pages to find all of them were indeed active government employees. I quit looking and let Troy’s clerks do the work.

As the officials came in I gave them a copy of the files. Those in law enforcement knew immediately what they were looking at. The commandant of the Coast Guard needed it explained to him twice.

Steve Crowley joined the group as I explained what I needed him for and when I was hoping to put it together.

The President left to call the President of Mexico and Steve went to summon the Mexican ambassador to the White House.

To me it was critical that all the arrests and raids happened as close together as possible. As soon as it hit the news – and it would almost immediately – they would scatter and disappear.

In my office I opened a VCATS with Andy; Bob and all the carpenters should have recovered from the jet lag and had a full day of work.

When I flipped through the surveillance cameras, carpenters were still working on both the Ambassador residence and the embassy, even though it was 8 PM there.

The control room paged Andy and when he came on, Bob Short was with him. We talked for thirty minutes about the repairs. The security night shift was complaining about the noise with them trying to sleep during the day.

There was a simple solution to that problem. I called Marcy and Vicky and had them call the two hotels to arrange ten rooms for those men to sleep in during the day. The hotel would just have to make other arrangements to clean those ten rooms.

I was certain that for ten rooms for four to six weeks, they would make the necessary changes. If the managers there would not cooperate I was sure I could torque up on the corporate ladder and get something done. But I was sure Marcy would beat me to it.

I left Section 12 early so I could get in a few minutes on the office meeting and then going to Camp Smith to do the last interrogation.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

I had made both pots of coffee when Troy and the President walked in.

“I was just getting ready to come see you as soon as I refilled my mug. How are things upstairs today?” I said.

“First the coffee then we will talk,” the President replied.

Of course he pulled up a chair by the pastries.

“I received a call from General Fillmore thanking me for your assistance yesterday at Minnesota. He explained that the Army personnel were ready to abandon the site after losing that much equipment right out of the gate. As usual, I hear that one of your teams supplied a solution to the problems,” the President said.

“Always be prepared, hope for the best, expect the worst; good rule to live by,” I replied.

“Speaking of being prepared, we were not prepared for your appearance at Columbia yesterday. We had discussed what would be the appropriate response, then it was put aside and forgotten in the rush to respond to everything else with the raids,” the President said.

“We were reminded after ZNN did two hours of the live coverage that the administration should have done more. You pulled our ass out of the fire on that one,” Troy said.

Ben had arrived just in time to join the conversation, “The world knows what every medal on your uniform was awarded for. The salute to that officer and the conversation must have played a hundred times. Even the news people were commenting about it. Then there was that statement to the reporter on the way out. Are you sure you are not a politician?”

“I have already answered that several times,” I replied.

“You better practice on that; there are at least a dozen Senate and House committees that have sent notification of subpoenas for you to testify,” Troy said.

“I thought they were going to adjourn for Christmas break,” I replied.

“They are soon so there may not be enough time until January,” Troy replied.

“There was nothing on Saif’s phone; his computer is heavily encrypted and may take a few days,” I said.

“Keep us informed,” Troy replied as they left.

My group was making their way in. It was time to start giving orders. I sent an email to the federal attorney and now a federal prosecutor had been assigned to my group.

“Please begin the legal process to immediately seize the six learning center properties, the farm in Minnesota and the New Jersey center. We have connected it to the attacks. I understand through third party contacts that Federal Judge Walter Haynes is receptive and supportive of the move and it is suggested that the writs be completed as soon as possible and processed through his court.”

Curtis Warren had sent me an email describing the procedure for getting the property and his contact with the judge.

Even though there were more memorial services going on today, I sent an email to the DHS and FBI directors for the six areas.

“Please expedite the forensic processing of the sites. Notify me immediately when you are finished. The centers are to remain crime scenes and in your control until the task force completes legal filings for final determinations,” I said in the email.

Seizing the Baltimore center was going to cause a fire storm. It was a large active center and only about half of it was damaged. They already wanted to get back into it and wanted their computer equipment and records back.

Friday morning – before the news conference – I had asked the legal team about seizing the financial assets of the six centers and the one that owned the Minnesota farm.

I found out that all that needed to be done was for me to sign the request and forward it to the Justice Department. That made it easy because now there were two Justice Department officials on my team. Their accounts had been placed in escrow by noon on Friday. I was surprised that there had been no screaming yet.

I called Ben into my office and closed the door behind him. For the next three hours we went through the questions that had been asked of Saif and the answers.

As we went through the information a second and third list was put together. When we finished, these lists were going to the DHS and FBI guys to see if the names were on any watch list.

Then I made a list of questions to ask Rafi Quastri tonight. Ben was working on his own list.

To help things along, Robert sent me the complete set of files after the codes had been broken and translated from Rafi Quastri’s desktop computers. It would take days to go through all of it.

There were several files that stood out; one was a ledger of all the payments to various groups and individuals detailing what the payments were for, including addresses.

Another file detailed payments from the Prince to Rafi Quastri along with account numbers and banks and the money laundering sequence they used from foreign banks.

One file was a whopper; it detailed the training camps with layouts and plans. Better yet, it included the location of the one in New York along with the ones in West Virginia and Monclova, Mexico.

It even included a list of people who had attended and were going to attend, the instructors and the classes they were going to teach. All the classes were terror driven. From kitchen explosives, how to make homemade igniters and detonators to manufacturing bombs using readily available gunpowder extracted from rifle and pistol ammunition.

I had to wonder why so much information about their activities would be in one place. Even though it was encrypted, they had to know sooner or later it would be hacked and broken. I guess they never expected anyone to simply take it as we had done.

I sent Frank and Eric the folders, “Review for tonight’s question and answer session. I would like satellite imagining of those three sites 24/7 for a few days if possible.”

“Where did these files come from?” Ben asked.

“Rafi Quastri’s office computer,” I replied.

“How did you get the computer? Never mind, I don’t need to know,” Ben replied.

I sent the files to my CIA and IRS members; between them they could run down money and international connections. The CIA could seize the international funds and the IRS and the justice department any terrorist connected funds in the US.

I directed the DHS, INS and the FBI men to run down every name on the files, create an active file for each that did not have a file and assigned anyone that was free to help them. I wanted our prosecutor to be able to generate arrest warrants by the end of the week.

Some of the files had videos attached of the individuals while they were training and making motivational videos to send to the fighters in Syria and Iraq.

I started at the beginning of the files and speed reading added more questions for tonight. Ben was doing the same thing.

I went to the State Department fancy GPS and looked at the location for the New York site by the directions in the files.

The training site was in Marion, just 15 miles from Rochester; how interesting I thought. That explained all the special things the group across from the college was doing and raised questions. Were they a welcoming center, way station or supplying rooms for them to stay in while they were at the training center, or maybe all of the above?

I kept blowing the image up looking for anything that would give the place away. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was concrete buildings. Every building was concrete, almost like a military base.

When I looked at the one near Moorefield West Virginia, it was clearly made in outdoor training mode. There were exercise areas with an obstacle course, a clearly defined target range and what looked to be a range for throwing or testing explosive devices.

The site in Monclova, Mexico was very large with multiple firing ranges and buildings. There were also images that indicated they were practicing assault on cars and other cars that looked like they had been used for explosive training.

The Mexico training site was going to be a major problem. I already knew the terrorists were working with the cartel. The world knew a lot of the police and military were looking the other way when it came to the cartel, except when they needed a PR op. The real diplomats were going to have to work on this one.

The numbers I had estimated for the terrorist pipeline had not been revised since I found out about the three ships. My original estimate had been 200; my thinking now was more like 400 had made the trip.

How had that many been able to get into the country and not set off any flags? The fact that so many were not missed as part of the ship crew meant that all the captains were in on pipeline. That did explain the higher number of terrorists killed in the raids.

Ben and I were leaving at three. We were meeting Frank and Eric at Morton field at 1630.

Vicky and I were in Lorrie’s office when Earl Conway of the Baltimore DEA office and Wayne Platt of the Washington ATF office asked for us at the counter. Before we made the counter, Frank and Eric were there. Ben walked in as we were walking out.

The seven of us took two box trucks and went to the locked hangar. We loaded 200 2 kilo bricks of cocaine into the DEA box truck.

“Where did you get this?” Earl asked.

“There are some questions that if answered may jeopardize your health and well being; that is what happened to the people we took it away from,” I replied. Then I added.“Your director has agreed to display this as part of big joint news conference on Monday; before then someone will come up with a statement,” I said.

There was one big news conference planned for next Monday; an entire unexploded vest, guns, ammunition and anything else to further political careers would be there.

Then we loaded up the sixty heavy machine guns and the thousands of rounds of ammunition in the ATF truck. I looked at one of the guns, I thought they would be of Venezuelan manufacture; they were Iranian.

Years ago when Hugo Chavez ran the country, Iran built a factory to build AK47 rifles to supply Central America revolutionaries as part of an aid and exchange deal. I had assumed that the heavy machine guns were built there.

The ATF was under the same agreement; the weapons would be displayed at the news conference.

I was glad to see the guns and drugs leave. JBG had been responsible for the stuff longer than I wanted. Now the only thing left of this caper was to get rid of the trucks.

As far as I was concerned, they could be carried back to the camp for Howie to use for project testing. There could never be any titles to make them worth anything or usable on the highway.

It was time to question Rafi Quastri.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

Monday was going to be one busy day for all of us. Vicky and I were at Morton Field at 0600 leaving for Minnesota in one G5. When I was finished there, we were flying on to Columbia SC. I carried my dress blues and portable office on the plane.

Howie and four of his helpers were going in another G5 carrying two of the new bigger drones and upgraded devices.

Both C5s were flying to Windhoek; Bob’s Construction and crews were ready to go with the cargo split up between the two planes. Included this time were six Army surplus Humvees that had been checked out and upgraded by the mechanics.

With so many cars, trucks and equipment at the office and Morton Field, Marcy had finally given into Jason and Dad’s prodding to start our own repair shop for our own equipment. Too much time was being wasted moving things to the repair shop and then waiting for our turn to be repaired.

There were six more Humvees at Morton for whatever we would need them for. I was afraid that they were going to be grabbed. Dad, Jason, Jenny and Vicky had already expressed interest in one for traveling in bad weather.

Two man lifts and a flat bed truck were also making the trip this time, along with a dozen Job boxes of tools and supplies.

A replacement Suburban was also loaded to replace the one that was destroyed. Bob was confident he had all the supplies he needed. As Marcy had done at other places, she had rented a hangar at the airport to store things in.

We landed at Minneapolis St Paul International general aviation section at 0730. Suburban from the MAAR site were waiting on us. Traffic was a mess that made us half an hour late getting to the farm site.

There was a pair of army guards posted at the lane entrance with M16s who stopped us. I showed them my Federal ID and badge, then asked, “Who is in command here?”

“Major Carl Betts, he is up there by the house. He said to send you there when you came. There is also Len Zimmerman from the DHS waiting for you,” Corporal Hayes replied.

I drove to the command vehicle. When I stepped out it was obvious they were not having a good day. There were two of those British invented open field mine clearing machines parked in disarray. One was near the house and the other on the side of the lane. Both had been damaged by an IED.

A third one was still operating and was nearly finished making the final pass around the buildings.

We walked up to where the Major, Len and Kent Dalton (commander of the MSP) and his group were standing. They were watching a tracked robot bomb disposal unit start up the steps towards the door. The steps were concrete and it looked that the porch floor was a solid concrete pad.

The robot had mastered the steps and was slowly making its way across the pad to the door. There was an explosion; when the dust and smoke settled, the quarter million dollar robot was upside down in the yard mangled and burning.

“Do you have another one you want to send in?” I asked the Major.

“The equipment said that was concrete; if he doctored the concrete, what did he do in the house? No and we are not sending teams in the house either. We have to think this thing out,” he replied.

“What is your opinion Kent?” I asked.

“I’m glad we decided to follow the Army in on this one,” Kent replied.

“Well, I don’t have all day for debates. Howie, do your thing,” I said.

“Ten-four Boss,” he replied.

“No pictures – and that includes everyone – unless you want me to use your phone for target practice,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear.

Howie’s group began unloading the drones, devices, and laptops to control them. I listened as Howie explained the new equipment. This was the first time I had seen the new drones set up. The audience was as captivated as I was.

Howie said, “They are capable of carrying 200 pounds and more with additional motors installed. It also carries more batteries and can fly higher and the targeting cameras are improved models that give a more precise clear video.”

“The devices are also new. For one thing they are bigger, 150 pounds compared to 100 of the old ones. They are longer because the drone was rectangle instead of circular.”

“The nose has been hardened to give better penetration, the fins are designed to tear away at impact to allow better penetration of hardened structures,” Howie said.

I came close to asking how one hardened aluminum but thought better of asking in public.

With both devices checked out and armed, Howie waited for me to give authorization.

“Mission approved,” I replied.

The first device was dropped from 500 feet into the east end of the house. While the second drone was positioned there were a dozen explosions from within the house.

The second device was dropped into the west end of the house and more explosions followed.

I had Howie drop one more onto an addition built off the end of the house. Within minutes the house was a raging inferno driven by even more explosions.

Then I ordered devices dropped on both separate out buildings. The results were the same. Fire and explosions, with the biggest building where we thought the truck was stored caused a massive explosion. It was a good thing we were well away.

All together there were 40 secondary explosions after the devices exploded. Saif had booby trapped the place well, not caring who he killed with them. I wondered how many were placed around the farm waiting for victims.

“Major, when you get those two machines repaired I want the whole area run over with them, if you can,” I said.

The Major was interrupted by a call from the two guards, “There is fire equipment wanting to put the fires out?” one of them radioed.

“Negative on putting the fire out, I want it to burn out,” I replied. Then to emphasize my point there was another explosion.

“Kent, tomorrow when this mess has burned out, get a contractor with an excavator and dozer to dig a big hole and bury the remains deep. Tell him to stay on the equipment and not to be wandering around picking up souvenirs. Send me the bill,” I said.

The drones had just been put away when a news chopper made several low slow passes over head.

“If you get any calls, divert them to the task force,” I said to Kent and Len.

Howie and the crew went back to Morton as Vicky and I headed to South Carolina. I changed into my dress blues in flight. There was one more medal on the Blues since I had worn them in public last time.

The Presidential Medal of Freedom was presented to me in a ceremony for the Kampala Embassy attack, while I was in Washington for the Senate investigation and hearings. It was a civilian award for both military and non military individuals.

I had plenty of time left so I took a quick look at my emails, taking care of those marked as important or urgent.

Then I read the questions we had asked Saif and his answers. Vicky had taken everything down in her unique shorthand. It had taken a while for me to learn how to read it but now I had it mastered. There were 60 pages for me to read.

As I read I made my own set of notes on the margins, things I needed to direct others to follow up on.

Saif had been far more helpful than he intended. It would take days to investigate the data and the new leads.

There had been three ships participating in the terrorist pipeline. The Exxon Val Diageo that Saif had used: the Amoco Sea Voyager and the Majestic Sea Horse.

The Exxon and the Amoco were modified while they were getting engine upgrades in Surat India in 2013. That meant that this operation had been going on for 4 years. The Majestic Sea was the new kid on the terrorist pipeline modified in December. She was to replace the Exxon Val Diageo.

The Exxon Val Diageo was to be scrapped after its current voyage due to serious structural problems so bad that it could break apart in a major storm.

The CIA had seized a floating time bomb and it was at anchor off the New Jersey coast. I wondered if the oil had been off loaded. I understood why the owner was not contesting the seizing of the ship by the CIA.

The owner was free and clear of all liability if it broke apart now, free of all salvage cost and free of the cost to transport it to Alang India or Chittagong Bangladesh – the favored scrap yard for dying ships.

Chittagong was the favored site because of the huge tidal changes, as much as 30 feet with a full moon. The wreckers anchored the ships offshore, waiting for a spot on the beach to become open.

When a spot was open, they pumped off all the ballast and ran the lightened ship aground at full speed during high tide, driving it well up on the beach. At low tide hundreds of workers – for pennies a day – with nothing more than sledge hammers and chisels would go about the task of tearing it apart.

Accidents that killed or maimed the workers were often. Several years ago dozens were killed when a cloud of ammonia from a refrigerant line was severed, filling several compartments with the deadly gas. Explosions were a major problem.

I called Frank and asked him if the oil had been off loaded and if he understood what Saif had said.

He did not and was going to call the Coast Guard and Marine engineers to evaluate the ship.

“Frank, you better not waste any time. We are still in hurricane season and a winter nor-easterner could blow up at any time. If that thing breaks apart with a million barrels of crude, you are in big trouble from Virginia to Newfoundland.”

“The hell with the courts and rules! Off load the oil under an emergency directive then fill that thing with ballast and put the money in escrow. The courts can decide what to do with it later. And find someone who knows what they doing so the thing does not break apart in the unloading process,” I said then ended the call.

We were in the landing pattern at the Columbia Metropolitan Airport – just a few minutes from landing – when my phone rang.

Parker Stoddard was the local DHS director for the region. “The SUV is at the airport waiting. After this is over a couple agents that assisted in the raid want the four of us to meet a few minutes. They would not say why,” he said.

“OK, that is no problem,” I replied.

The SUV carried us to one of those Mega churches you see on TV that could seat thousands and park thousands of cars. The SUV dropped us off at the long covered walkway into the church. Parker and other dignitaries were waiting on us as we stepped out of the SUV.

This was a major news day for Columbia; the local and national media was out in force. Reporters, TV cameras and still photographers were everywhere. There were plenty of introductions and handshakes

Without the crowd control tape and the officers lining the walkway, I felt sure we would have been mobbed as we made our way.

The reporters were following along outside of the tape as we walked when one the Columbia police officers snapped to attention and saluted.

I stopped, executed a right face and came to attention and returned the salute.

After wards he said, “ Semper Fi, Ma-am,”

“Semper Fi, Soldier; hang tough, it is going to be a long hard day,” I replied.

“Yes it is Ma-am. Yes it is,” he replied.

We continued into the church and after a few introductions I joined the officers waiting their turn at the standing guard positions. Vicky found a seat in the reserved section. The six flag draped coffins were in a row.

At the head and foot of each coffin was a standing guard. Every three minutes a bell rang and the guard stepped to the next coffin. The process was going to take 40 minutes. Every three minutes a new officer joined the standing guard and one left.

After my turn Parker and the minister escorted me back to see the families. It was the hardest hour emotionally that I had in a long time.

The memorial service was short – all things considered – but there had been one this morning and one in the afternoon to help with the massive crowds.

After the memorial Parker, Vicky, Oliver Hamilton, Skip Brace and I went into a private room for the meeting they wanted.

“Ambassador Jones, Skip and I were the two that captured Saif and put him on a plane alive and well, yet 12 hours later you made a public announcement that he was dead. What gives with that – it looks shady,” Oliver said as serious as he could be.

“You have to understand and agree that this discussion is classified,” I said, to which they agreed.

“Due to the seriousness of the raids and connected events, Saif was subjected to aggressive and enhanced interrogation methods. We just did not feel we could wait weeks and months to get information from him.”

“Those methods were conducted by a handpicked team of specialist from four federal agencies. The interrogation yielded 60 pages of names, dates, places of other terrorist bomb plots, leaders and other valuable leads in the fight to end terrorism,” I said then continued.

“Saif gave up his controller, that’s right; his controller who we believe is over other terror cells and groups in the United States, Mexico and Canada. That controller and his second in command are in custody as we speak.”

“Saif also confirmed who is providing financing for US terrorist operations; a so called respected political figure in the Middle East. A special OPS team is on standby – if the opportunity presents itself – to eliminate that individual.”

“Saif did not survive the interrogation. His body was disposed of and that disposal was witnessed by the individuals of the four agencies. His ashes were sent down the flush. There will be no grave to draw and motivate other terrorists or the media blood-thirst; the same as with the disposal of Bin Laden.”

“Does that answer your concerns?” I asked.

“Yes Ma-am.”

“Good. There shall never be a word, not even a whisper about this conversation ever again. Understood?” I said.

“Yes Ma-am, thank you for clearing that up for us,” Oliver said.

“You may or may not see it on the news tonight but the place where Saif made the suicide vests and bombs was destroyed in a joint operation. It was led by the Army demolition team from Fort Riley, along with the DHS and Minnesota State Police this morning.”

“The Army lost 3 pieces of equipment to IEDs; Saif had planted over 40 at the site,” I said.

“Gentleman, I hate to run but my day is far from over. I hope to get back in a few weeks and hold a formal combined meeting with all the teams that raided the building,” I said.

It still took an hour to get away from the church. So many officials were playing the game of politics, even at a funeral.

Even I didn’t get to escape without a question from the media, “Ambassador Jones, when you stopped on the way in to salute the police officer you addressed him as ‘soldier’. Why?”

“The six men under the flags were all former soldiers. Today in mourning we are all fellow soldiers as I have been and in my heart, shall be forever,” I replied.

The flight was quiet. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted and Vicky must have been too. But then there were still urgent emails to deal with.

My trip must have opened eyes at the White House; there was a lengthy email detailing the administrations involvement in the rest of the memorials and funerals. The Vice President and the Attorney General were going to the rest of them. That suited me just fine.

The hot tub, several Buds, the boys and quiet time together with my mates and a good night’s sleep was what I needed, and was what I got.

Morning still came too early but I was energized and anxious to get to Washington. There was a lot to do with Saif’s information.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

The games were over by 1700 when we left to go home. There had been a few arrests for weapons and other incidents, but the events finished off a bad day with no new problems.

At Morton Field I picked up the package from the DHS then went to the jail at Camp Smith.

As soon as Saif saw me, it was obvious he knew who I was.

“I demand to see the Saudi Ambassador and to speak to a lawyer under the rules of the Geneva Convention,” he demanded.

“Crimes of terrorism are NOT covered under the amended Geneva Convention charter that was modified after 9-11,” I replied.

“I’m sure you are aware that a tribunal at Gitmo will make those decisions if you live long enough to get there. You could be three years getting a lawyer. You are going to start answering questions for me in a day or two,” I said.

“I will answer no questions. You are wasting your time,” he replied.

“We shall see,” I replied.

I turned to the cell Rafi Quastri was in, “Are you ready to answer questions?”

“Why should I? You have nothing on me.” he replied.

“I know a lot more about you than you think; all of it is bad enough for you to die. How well do you stand in with the Crown Prince Sultan al-Zahab? You took a lot of orders from him; will he bail you out or watch you die one little piece at a time?” I asked.

“He will negotiate; I am a blood relative,” he replied.

‘That offers all kinds of possibilities’ I thought as I turned and walked away.

At home I walked through the tunnel to the command center and then to Robert’s office. I placed Saif’s computer and phone on his desk with a note. Robert was coming in for a while in the morning to look and see what was on them.

The hot tub and several bottles of cold beer, a late supper was what it took to relax me and then precious time with my mates and little boys.

Tomorrow we were going to have our family Thanksgiving dinner. Because of all the activity, Lisa and Mom has agreed to postpone it on Thursday.

I had a bothered sleep. My mind just would not stop turning; so many things that had happened in the last few days. Also there was the loss of so many of the SWAT team members.

Breakfast was a modest affair; after all, there was going to be enough food to feed an army in a few hours. I helped the girls set up the garage with tables and chairs.

There were already a dozen crock pots on tables cooking all kinds of delicious things, according to the scents.

After everything was set up and cooking, there was no more that I could do. Mom had run me out of the kitchen twice as it was.

I went to the Morton restaurant and picked out breakfast for the inmates, apples, oranges and bananas. I also had the cook fix them eggs and steak. I also placed a clean orange jump suit, underwear, socks, towel and washcloth.

Back home I went to the office and tried to catch up on emails – and there were plenty.

I had a list of the services for the agents killed in the raids; the list had the complete information. The first one was Columbia Monday afternoon. The four DHS agents and the Columbia PD officers memorial service was going to be a joint service.

Two were Tuesday- one mid-morning and the other mid-afternoon – and two on Wednesday with the final one on Thursday.

I was saddened at all the officer deaths. But to read that all six at Columbia had been former military and were younger than 35, hit me especially hard. From the DHS side, two were Air Force and two were Marines. The two from the PD were Army.

There was a contact number for more information; I called and talked with the DHS agent who was handling the formalities and asked if I could participate in the standing guard.

I spent a few minutes with Robert and Burt; they were both working on the phone and laptop.

There were eight numbers in Saif’s phone; the six leaders, Rafi Quastri and Crown Prince Sultan al-Zahab. There were no text messages.

Robert was working on the computer, “It’s going to take a while, there is a lot of encryption.”

“Quit whenever you are ready, take a break; you have been busting ass for weeks. Take the rest of the weekend off, come join us for turkey. We have plenty, this will wait.

Our delayed Thanksgiving meal was superb as all the special meals were when the Moms had done the cooking. And then there were the deserts that had to be put off for at least an hour.

I made three plates and took them to Camp Smith with plastic utensils. This would be Saif’s last meal. The Doc, Eric, Frank and Marty Coeburn were coming at 9. I had told them to have all their questions written down, that this was the one time and only interrogation session there would be.

Men from the Rapid Response team were in the camp to make sure nothing happened.

The family outing together lasted until after dark. Jake and Mindy were the last to go home.

Mindy, Lorrie and Ching Lee were comparing baby craving symptoms and making plans. Jenny was leading on with the things to come.

The three were working out in the gym with an exercise program approved by the baby doc to keep the weight gains within reason and were comparing notes. There was no doubt that fun times were coming with those three girls.

With all of us on the floor in the living room, including the two little boys, we had an evening of family bonding. Of course the two little boys were more interested in finding Jenny’s nipples. Sometimes any visible nipple was fair game.

They were hungry all the time even though they devouring baby food by the case. They were also active, always on the move and into something.

I slept much better of course with Jenny’s arms wrapped around me holding me so tight I could barely breathe. That may have had something to do with it. We both woke up early, managed to get dressed and sneak out without waking the boys.

We would know immediately when they were up; they had learned that aggressively rattling the sides of the crib brought someone or everyone quickly.

Breakfast was well under way when they started shaking the crib. Clean diapers and in high chairs, breakfast became an experience. We were putting pieces of fried eggs, bacon, sausage and sugar smacks on their little plates.

As always it was a spectacle with the different faces and expressions with the different foods. Then there was always the clean up after the fun.

At 0845 Vicky and I went to Camp Smith to help the Doc get the equipment set up. We had barely finished when the rest of the group arrived.

Eric, Frank, Marty, and Ben Smith walked into the medical building.

“Why in the world did they bring squeamish Ben Smith?” I wondered.

Eric, Vicky and I carried Saif to the medical building; he was resisting all the way. Stripped down and an adult diaper on, it took all of us to strap him tightly to the table.

It took the Doc 10 minutes to get all the monitoring equipment hooked up. Then I started with my questions after Saif got the first dose.

It took two more doses before Saif decided it was better to answer questions. For the next six hours we took turns asking questions from our notes. Then we compared notes and asked more.

It took one more dose to finishing off the questions. The last dose took all the fire out of Saif; one more dose would have killed him. I didn’t want him to die that way.

I opened the bag of tools I had brought. When I was a teenager I had worked one summer at a dairy/feedlot where they grew beef cows. Dad and Jake had talked me into it.

Dad had grown up on a big working farm; Grandpa sold the farm when I was little. I had a few memories of it.

One of the things I had to do was to help castrate the males for beef; they grew faster and lost their meanness.

The tools allowed the testicles to be removed and the steer not to bleed to death. They were stainless steel and looked a little like over grown tree pruners, only one side had vein crushers with two different angles of serrations that had to be positioned towards the bull’s body. The serrations crushed and crimped the veins to stop bleeding.

The process went like this, the soon-to-be steers was herded into a corral and then locked into a portable stanchion one at a time. The farmer and his son arched the tail over the steer’s back. That position of the tail paralyzed the rear legs so the steer could not kick – or so they said and I had not seen one kick while held that way.

Crouched behind the steer while they held the tail, I had to cut the bottom of the scrotum to allow drainage as the castration healed. I used a scalpel called a little beaver.

Once the bottom was cut off, I pulled one testicle down – and making sure the tool was in the right direction – squeezed the handles tight and held it for 30 seconds to make sure the crimps did their job. The testicles went into a bucket. Then the process was repeated with the other testicle. The final thing was to splash a mixture of disinfectant on the cuts.

The testicles were thrown into a bucket. The farmer said they would be soaked in salt water for a while. They would then be sliced and batter dipped, then fried for supper. I never believed him but made sure I was gone by supper time.

When I was in an Afghanistan village, the women were talking when no men were around about how to destroy a man that was vile and mean to the village women. This was a village that was women dominate; the men were greatly out numbered because the men were with the Taliban and off fighting or killed. The men also rotated out to the mountain training camps.

They would drug his food with poppy mush; it that was a form of raw heroin that made him sick. The few men in the village would leave to go work the poppy fields or corn fields.

The women would castrate and remove his cock making him useless. He would be delirious under the drug that he would be fed for several days. The first thing it did was made them mellow, it also meant that he would be denied his virgins if he died without those body parts. It was the promise of Mohammad that a man was to get at death.

With the tools I removed Saif’ testicles and put them in a mason jar to go on my office shelf with the jar from the Prince. With a newer style castration tool and a hot knife, he lost his cock and it joined the testicles in the jar to be filled with alcohol. Every time he passed out an ammonia capsule brought him back.

“No virgins for you,” I told him. The look in his eyes told me he understood.

A capsule did not help Ben; he needed a trash can.

All of us went back to the chipper; I wanted to make sure that Ben helped to guarantee he kept quiet about what went on.

Before Saif was put in the feeder trough I put a large nylon tie strap at crotch level on each leg and pulled them as tight as I could to act as tourniquets.

It took two capsules to bring him around again as I lifted his head and shoved a log under it so he could see the chipper feed rolls.

“This is for all the innocent people you have killed,” I said and then started the chipper.

I pushed the feed lever until his feet were gone, then reversed it, showing him no feet. Two more capsules brought him back again and then he went in to the waist.

Ben was dry heaving off to the side.

Four more capsules this time to wake him, and then I pushed the auto feed button and watched as Saif disappeared.

The water was churning in the pond as the catfish were in a feeding frenzy.

“Saif is dead. Does everyone agree on that?” I said.

All of us loaded the trough with gallons of bleach and firewood. By the time we were finished, the catfish had finished and were gone.

Thirty minutes later twenty gallons of bleach and 10,000 gallons of water finished the clean up.

“I am not going to be in the office tomorrow. I will be in Minnesota in the morning and Columbia, South Carolina after lunch,” I told the group then added, “the Doc will be here Tuesday at 5 to interrogate the assistant and Rafi Quastri.”

“The four of you should be here,” I replied then added, “Ben, the second time will be easier on your stomach.”

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

I made one more call, “General Fillmore, given the events of last night you can proceed with the farm raid any time you want. We are still looking for Saif”s computer to see if he left any diagrams on it. You may want to wait until Monday; hopefully, we should know something by then.”

“Monday would suit the teams better, many are on leave for the holidays and do get back on Monday,” he replied.

“Give me a time Monday when they are going to begin and I will try to be there,” I replied.

With ten minutes to spare I walked into the Oval Office to meet with the rest of the VIPs to establish the pecking order for the press conference speeches.

The only good thing that came to mind as I followed the group of VIPs out to the rose garden was it was an unusually warm day for Thanksgiving.

The President spoke first.

“Thanksgiving Day is traditionally about friends and family, to celebrate and enjoy the bounty of nature in food and friendship.”

“Today we are filled with sorrow and fear from the events of the last few months. As you know there were six massive raids last night. Those raids were ordered by the terrorist task force.”

“There were many agencies involved and there has been one person keeping everyone pointed in the right direction. There is no one better qualified to put the pieces together for you than the chairperson of the task force.”

“Ambassador Jones, you have the podium.”

I was just stepping forward when an agent handed me a sheet of paper that I quickly read and handed to the President, who responded with, “YES” and a fist pump.

“First, I have to give credit where credit is due and that is to all the agencies that have worked 24/7 to put together last night’s raids; the FBI, DHS, CIA, NSA, ATF, DEA, the border Patrol and the JBG intelligence group.”

“Last but in a major role were the Minnesota, Kentucky, Florida, South Carolina, North Carolina, Indiana and Maryland state police SWAT teams. I also want to thank the Gainesville, Raleigh, Lexington, and Columbia city police for the use of their SWAT teams.”

“Sadly, officers from that list paid the ultimate price to protect the public,” I said.

“For a quick overview; the terrorists were going to target six college football games today, with ten suicide bombers and automatic weapons at each stadium.”

“The six college games were the Seminoles / Gators, at Ben-Hill Griffin stadium at Gainesville, Florida.”

“The Cardinals / Wildcats at Kroger Field in Lexington, Kentucky.”

“Penn State/ Maryland at the Capital 1 stadium in Baltimore.”

“Tar Heels / Wolfpack at the Carter Finley stadium in Raleigh, NC.”

“Hoosiers / Purdue Boilermakers at the Ross Ade stadium in West Lafayette, Indiana”

“The Clemson Tigers / SC Gamecocks at William Brice Stadium in Columbia, South Carolina”

“That explains the locations of last night’s raids. Weeks of intelligence and following leads in the search for Saif Alawai al-Jawfi finally paid off, and in the process closed one avenue for entry of the terrorist pipeline into the US.”

“Back to the raids; thirty officers lost their life last night, sixty-five more were listed in critical condition another sixty-seven have less serious injuries. This morning twenty of those on the critical list were upgraded to serious.”

“There were 150 terrorists killed in the raids. At this point in the investigation, we have to assume all the suicide bombers and fighters were killed. It will be days before we know for sure. With a positive DNA result we do know that Saif Alawai al-Jawfi is one of the dead.”

“One last piece of information; the task force rushed advanced surveillance equipment and hundreds of personnel to those games today to prevent as many of those bombers from gaining entry into today’s games as possible.”

“Additionally, if you are going to any of the football games, I would advise everyone NOT to carry any weapons of any kind, even if you have permits for them. Make no mistake, every police officer in the nation is on high alert and will take no chances.”

“If you are approached by a police officer, make no sudden moves, keep your hands in plain sight, be respectful and do what you are asked or told to do. If you feel you have been unjustly targeted, the courts and lawyers can straighten it out. All the lawyers and judges in the world cannot bring you back from the grave.”

“Even with the best case scenario, our estimates were that possibly a thousand or more would have died if they had gained entry to the games. We owe a debt to those officers and their families that lost their lives last night and to the wounded who could take weeks, even months to recover.”

“Again, I want to thank every agency and every individual that helped put this together and stop the attack,” I said, then added, “Mr. President, the podium is yours,” I as I turned away and walked to the rear of the group.

The directors of each agency spoke, followed by the Attorney General. The Vice-President and Speakers of the House and Senate each had their say. I stood at the back and waited for the inevitable.

The President went back to the podium.

“I will take a few questions,” The President said. I knew right then I was in trouble.

“Malinda.”

“Ambassador Jones; given the number of police causalities, could this have been done a different way?” she asked as I walked back to the podium.

“Of course, however it is illegal to use bombs and missiles against civilians. But I did think about that for a second. Of all the scenarios, the task force with all the partners believed this was the only way to handle the raids and stay within the law,” I replied.

“The raids last night were essentially a target of opportunity. Intelligence in the last 18 hours placed all the players together for a short period of time. It was too good of an opportunity to let go. The other options were not good at all,” I said.

“Hanna.”

“Ambassador, there was another center in New Jersey that exploded and burned to the ground. Was that center also targeted by the task force?” Hanna asked.

“No, it was not part of this operation. I believe the reports from the area are saying it was caused by a natural gas leak,” I replied.

“Ambassador, Sheryl Walls NCC channel 41; you said that the games were the targets and the raids were target of opportunity. If the suicide bombers had gained entry to the games, what options were left?”

“It was the intention to keep the bombers out of the stadium by whatever means necessary. I believe that there was enough manpower technology to do that,” I replied.

“Brooke Adams USA news red online; Ambassador, are the raids over?”

“Given the current world situation I do not believe the raids will truly ever be over; there may be times of calm but the need for another one will always be there,” I replied.

“Malinda.”

“Are there any more raids scheduled for today?”

“There are no raids scheduled by the task force for today,” I replied.

“Brian.”

“When will the body cam videos be released?”

“Body cams are not a federal requirement, all departments participating in the raids were required to abide by the federal rules and guidelines set down by the task force. Any agency that refused to go by those guidelines was excluded. There is no body cam video,” I replied.

The questions went on for another twenty minutes on live TV until my phone rang; it was the Columbia DHS office. I stepped away from the podium to take the call and allowed the President to take over, “We have Saif’s computer and phone. Eric texted instructing us that we are to send it to you special delivery, in care of Morton Field. The plane will be there in three hours.”

It turned into an hour and a half news conference; when it ended I took the girls to the White House cafeteria for lunch. Then we watched all six of the games hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

The media had recovered by game time and attended in force the six games, and documented all the extra security.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

One thing I had failed to take into consideration was that all the other five leaders were as dedicated to the cause as Saif was. In fact, they were more dedicated and determined to further the cause and dying.

Baltimore was the first to be hit. The SWAT team assembly point was the closest to the learning center. Ramming the cars out the way only served to give them the warning they were wanting.

The first SWAT team members through the door were met with a hail of gunfire, many of them going down while returning fire. Stun grenades were thrown by the team that came in the rear doors creating enough confusion that more SWAT teams got in.

Moments later several suicide vests were detonated obliterating most of the terrorists. In the process more SWAT members went down. Those that didn’t vented their rage on any terrorists that were alive with bullets.

The process was repeated at West Lafayette, Gainesville, Lexington and Raleigh. The suicide vests killed and injured both the SWAT teams and terrorist. The SWAT teams administered cold hard revenge.

Columbia was a different story. Saif lived up to my expectations; I had said he was not the suicidal type. At the first sound of the cars being moved by the MRAPS he gave orders then ran for the back of the building.

He was met in the hall by the FBI team that recognized him and hesitated putting a bullet in him, allowing him to surrender.

With automatic weapons and explosions going off in the front of the building, it was a miracle they let him surrender at all.

I had been too busy listening to all the radio reports and video from the teams and had not watched the events at NJ. When I did, I saw my men carrying out computers and searching the place while walking among the bodies.

I did not know if Rafi Quastri was dead or alive. I saw Howie placing charges and incendiaries around the building, one by a mass of pipes and also in the electrical room. I realized that he was going to disable the sprinkler system and alarm system to allow the incendiaries to do their thing.

I killed the screen. I had recorded the film and could look at it later. Howie was going to make sure terrorists would never again use the building.

By midnight things had started to settle down enough that I started receiving numbers.

At Baltimore there were six agents dead, ten in critical condition another ten with various injuries. Terrorist dead numbered twenty-four.

At Lexington there were four agents dead, fifteen in critical condition with another nine with various injuries, terrorists dead numbered twenty-six with two critical.
Apparently agents there needed to spend more time on the target range.

At West Lafayette there were five agents dead, twelve in critical and another twelve with lesser injuries. Terrorists dead was twenty-four.

At Gainesville there were six agents dead, eleven in critical and another ten with lesser injuries. Terrorists dead were twenty-six.

At Raleigh there were five agents dead, nine in critical and another fourteen with lesser injuries. Terrorists dead was twenty-two.

At Columbia there were four agents dead, two more from the Columbia PD SWAT team, eight in critical and twelve more with lesser injuries. The terrorists dead were twenty-six. I included Saif in the dead count because he was soon going to join the dead after questioning.

Saif was on his way to the jail at Camp Smith. The agent in charge had followed my instruction when they captured him alive. They had bagged him, cuffed him and gotten him away from there. Only two people knew he was captured. Lorrie had a King Air standing by at the airport just in case.

Rafi Quastri, his number one assistant and most of the OPS team were on the way back from NJ in another plane. Those left there were going to clean up the houses and drive back tomorrow with the rest of the equipment.

Shortly after midnight the President and Troy came in; we went over the numbers. We had a very long talk and then we talked about a press conference.

“Mr. President, I have ordered a complete news blackout until I get a total handle on the sites and see the condition of injured tomorrow morning,” I said.

“I still want all the security for the games to remain in effect just to be sure,” I added.

“Shouldn’t this put an end to the threat to the games?” the President asked.

“Yes, but there is always a chance until we know for sure that all of the vest are accounted for and that could take days. We have spent a lot of money and time to get everything set up; let’s use it and then campfire what the weaknesses are and the changes to be made,” I replied.

“This is not the end of it, there were at least 200 individuals who we believe came in through the tanker connection. We do not know how many have come across the border with the drug connection. Was that a new operation? I think not!” I said.

We settled on 1000 for a news conference.

I sent the rest of the team home; they all lived in the area, most of them would be home in thirty minutes.

“Are you going home?” the President asked.

“No, by time I got into bed I would have come back. I will just sleep in the chair or on the floor,” I replied.

“There is no one in the Lincoln bedroom, you can sleep there. The laundry can clean your clothes overnight,” the President said.

“That sounds OK,” I replied.

I sent a text to the girls. I figured they were still up, and called the command center for one last time. Just the duty person was working now.

Then I followed the President into the residential portion of the White House. I was going out to the Suburban to get my go bag. I was stopped by an agent who asked where I was going.

“Give me your keys and I will get it for you,” he said.

I followed a maid to the kitchen where I refilled my mug and helped myself to a couple pastries. I filled out the breakfast sheet before following her to the Lincoln Bedroom.

“Put your dirty clothes in the bag and put it outside the door. In the morning they will be on a cart by the door,” she said.

The agent handed me my go bag before I closed the door to shower and call it a night, but not before taking a few pictures with my phone and sending them to the girls.

My phone alarm woke me at 0600 and as promised my clothes were on a rack outside the door.

At 0615 there was a knock at the door, “Your breakfast with the President will be in the dining room at 0630,” the maid said and then added, “The White House photographer would like to take some official photos of you in the Lincoln Room, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine, send him in. I would like to have copies myself,” I replied.

The maid quickly straightened up the bed for the pictures.

The photographer took several pictures as I was finishing up to set the camera. I was just reaching for my shoulder holster when the photographer asked me to stop. I had hung the holster with the Glock and my knife on the back of the chair in front of the replica roll up desk.

“Let me take a couple pictures of that and then I want you to sit in the chair with it there; you can be working on your phone,” he said.

He took a lot of pictures, I thought, finishing up with me in my jacket standing beside the fancy desk.

I met the President and the First Lady for breakfast.

After breakfast I had to sit in on the staff meeting that was attended by several high ranking members of Congress. Then I went to Section 12 to get updates on the raids. I walked into my office at 0730.

No more agents had died over night, but twenty had been upgraded to serious. That was good news. At Lexington the two terrorists who survived had died of their wounds.

I had lost thirty agents in last night’s raids. The terrorist had lost 150. I wondered why the terrorist numbers were so high. I knew there were to be ten suicide bombers at each location, ten shooters and six leaders; that was a total of 126. Where did the rest come from?

Were they drivers or terrorists being trained for the next attacks? More questions to be answered later. Maybe after the identification process was done, there would be some light shed on subject.

I called and talked to the girls for a while and invited them to the news conference. It was then I remembered to call Hanna.

Then I called Robert and asked him to keep watching the phone calls. I was expecting the Prince to go crazy today. If he called other numbers in the US with the same phone, we would know there were more for sure.

I called the Doc, “I have an emergency for you. I need DNA from Saif to confirm he is dead – and he will be Monday after we interrogate him – he is in one of the cells. Rip off a couple of fingers and an ear, pack them in ice and box it very good, get Ed or Bill to assist. Oh, it needs to look like it was caused by an explosion.”

“I have told Marcy to wait for a package from you. She is leaving as soon as she gets the package to come over. Make sure there is nothing on or in the box to identify us,” I said.

I called and talked with each of the SWAT team leaders for last night’s raid and updated the numbers. They were all still under a news blackout. All of them wanted to know when they could hold a news conference; they were under pressure from multiple sources to do so.

I did a joint VCATS conference video call to all of them.

“Have all the families of the dead and injured team members been notified and arrangements made?” I asked.

“Yes,” all of them replied. I was going to be extremely upset if they had not been. That is always the first order of business before the reporters started knocking on their doors.

There is nothing that makes me angrier than a reporter shoving a mike in the face of the grieving and asking, “How do you feel?”

“At 0930 each of you can hold a general news conference. Make sure you have all the agencies that participated at your location on the platform with you. The last thing we need is a turf war,” I said then added.

“State the obvious and give away no details; it was a multi agency multi-location anti-terrorist raid ordered by the Task force and you can only report on the events at your location. You can give a general overview of their plans to attack the football games,” I said.

“Make sure you emphasize that extra security measures will be in effect for the games and that fans should arrive early and expect to be searched, including coolers and bags.”

“You should also add that given the events of last night and the heightened security, all weapons – permitted or not – will be seized and those individuals detained,” I said and added, “I would suggest that you take no questions.”

“At 1000 the President and the task force will have a news conference here and tie the numbers and everything else together,” I added.

I took the call I knew was coming from the Baltimore Mayor, the Police Chief and the city prosecutor. They had assumed they had a day to file an appeal of my ban excluding them. To sum it up: they were livid.

Now they were demanding to take over control of the investigation in accordance with Baltimore criminal laws, because it was in their jurisdiction.

“As far as I am concerned you can go fly a kite; you had the opportunity and chose not to comply with the rules as they were laid out.”

“This was an international terrorist organization and Federal jurisdiction prevails, involving multiple federal agencies. If your people attempt to enter the site or interfere they will be arrested,” I said and then I closed the call.

Baltimore’s mayor Blum was pissed and it was only going to get worse when the news leaked out, and it was already trickling out. Baltimore’s TV stations were as liberal as they could get but they had city pride.

There was none of the normal bragging coming from the PD public relations department. The media who were asking questions were used to having a line into the department. The anonymous source sort of thing they used all the time was no help.

Marcy and the girls arrived at the White House at 0915. Doc Burns had been efficient and fast.

Marcy handed me a bag with the box that I handed to the FBI representative.

“Take this to the forensics lab for DNA comparison, we need the results now. I think it may be Saif. Put a rush on it,” I said.

The girls saw Hanna in the press section and went to talk with her.

I had less than forty minutes to verify facts and make an outline for a speech. In Section 12 the six press conferences were playing and being recorded as I made notes.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

We used the tunnel to the command center, “Jay, what do you have?”

Jay played the recorded phone conversations.

“Damn, play that again,” I said.

“How can anyone be that stupid; this has to be a setup? They had to have found out we are watching,” I said.

Then I had another thought, “Are they really that confident, or over confident?”

“I’m going back to Washington. Vicky, call Ed and Bill, tell them to suit up and be ready to carry out the plan by 2100; monitor and report but wait for command. I will call you,” I said. Then I added, “Find out if there is some way Robert can connect to their net broadcast from NJ.”

It was a good thing I filled the Suburban with fuel on the way home; it was going to be run hard.

I called the task force members to get to Section 12 immediately, before I left the yard.

I called Marty Coeburn, “Have your team watching the new cameras at the learning centers report activity to me every 10 minutes.”

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Not sure yet, but something,” I replied as I floored the gas on the Suburban and turned on the light package.

I called the State Police, “This is Ambassador Jones of the President’s task force; I need a high speed escort to the White House. I will be coming off the Bay bridge headed west in five minutes,” I said.

“Yes Ma-am just a moment; there are two troopers at the toll booth. Pull off by the admin building; they will be waiting for you. Is this line hands free, can you leave it open?” the voice replied.

“Yes I can,” I replied.

I had called on my personal JBG phone that was linked in the Suburban. The State Department phone was in the console getting fully charged. It was hands free, if I need it while it was in the rack.

I pulled up behind the two trooper cars with the lights on. The trooper from the last car walked back to the Suburban and asked, “Jones, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?”

“Yes, that is correct,” I replied.

“Follow me, the other car will come in behind you,” he replied.

Using the State Department phone I called Eric.

“Director Roberson.”

“Eric; pull your surveillance team away from the New Jersey site NOW.”

“OK, I take it something is up,” he replied.

“I’m on my way to Section 12 now; I called in everyone. I have already advised Marty to be watching the center videos. Put your SWAT teams on high alert. Call FBI Johnson for me, have him put his teams on high alert also. As soon as we get it sorted out I will call you. They are either on to us or have committed the dumbest move in world history,” I said.

I concentrated on driving. The normal traffic ran eighty on this stretch of the road, but when I looked at the speedometer it was at 120. We had picked up two transit authority police; they were moving people over as well.

At the main gate I stopped and went to the two State Police cars that had made the whole trip with me, thanked them for their assistance and got a card from each of them.

Agent Tull met me at the gate when I walked back, “Grab your gear, most of your team is already here. I will park it for you,” he said.

In Section 12, members of the team were already looking at live surveillance of the six centers.

The FBI had done an excellent job with the installation. They had chosen new very bright LED street light heads to put the cameras in. They were all wireless and the micro cameras angles were perfect.

“Pull still shots from the video, run it against the known terrorist list and Interpol,” I said.

It was 1930 when I rapped on the table and played the video of the initial call from the phones that Jay had recorded.

The first call was from the Prince to Rafi Quastri and lasted 15 minutes; there was a second person on with the Prince. It was the Prince’s personal spiritual advisor.

The pair ordered Rafi Quastri to conduct a special prayer vigil seeking Allah’s blessings over the terrorists and their weapons for a successful attack against the infidels.

The second call was from Rafi Quastri to the leaders, instructing them of the prayer vigil and to bring all the weapons and all participants to the six learning centers.

Rafi Quastri was going to use their internet system to do the prayers to all six learning centers at 2100 hours. That was timed to match the first call to prayer in Mecca of the day.

They were to spend the night at the centers and he would do another in the morning before they departed for the games. They were too fast and spend all time in prayer.

Saif was livid during the call but the other leaders were so enthused that the kingdom had ordered special prayers to guarantee success that Saif reluctantly gave in.

The thing now was to see if the terrorists actually showed up at the centers or was this a diversion to draw us out, if they suspected they had been compromised.

Either way, there was no way we could not be ready to act. The true giveaway would be to see Saif enter the center in Columbia, SC.

Again it was another waiting game. Many more of these and I was going to need hair color for sure.

At 2000, activity picked up on the cameras, people were going in the centers. Some of the men were wrapping things up in blankets that look to all of us like rifles.

That thought was confirmed a few minutes later when an AK47 fell out of one of the blankets.

Others were carrying in boxes that looked all the same, about a size large enough to hold an explosive belt; ten boxes to be exact. And that was ten at each of the six locations.

At 2130 Saif was spotted at Columbia giving orders. A few minutes later Saif called Rafi Quastri.

Saif wanted all the belts to be worn tonight by the volunteers for Allah so they would be comfortable when in public tomorrow. Nervous individuals always drew the attention of authorities.

“Ya big dummy, haven’t you ever heard of accidents?” I thought sleeping in the belts was another stupid idea unless they were going to disconnect the batteries. I doubted that Saif the perfectionist wanted anyone messing with his design.

Then I remembered that he soldered all the terminals so the belts had to be live.

At 2145 there was a call from Saif to the other leaders. As a precaution he wanted cars parked in a way to block the entrances to the centers. A few minutes after, those cars were indeed moved into a defensive position.

It would not matter what they did, all the SWAT teams had been put together expecting the worst. With the combined teams there were at least three MRAPS at each location.

The PD MRAPS at Baltimore and West Lafayette were replaced with four from the local National Guard units.

I called the President’s phone to find out he was at the Kennedy center for an event. I sent a text instead, “They have changed their plans we have changed ours. I am ordering the centers to be raided in fifteen minutes.” It went to the chief of staff.

The broadcast started at 2100, I guess terrorists were into hi-tech as well. Robert’s team had sent the video feed to my computer that I connected to one of the smaller flat screens.

The video from the communications drone from NJ went live. The guys were checking out equipment. I sent it to another screen; I shouldn’t have but I wanted to watch.

There appeared to be no more people going into the centers. At ten after I called the six in charge of the SWAT teams, “Remind your teams they are armed, have explosives and suicidal; take no chances. You are authorized to begin the raids, GO, GO, GO.”

Many things were going to happen in a short few minutes; most of the staging sites were less than thirty minutes from the centers. DHS, FBI and state police not involved in the raid would be closing roads to allow the SWAT teams faster transit time to the centers.

I was receiving updates on the team’s progress to the sites; as soon as the first announced they were on the grounds, I called Vicky, “You are authorized to raid the complex. Go, Go, Go.”

All hell was breaking out and all I could do was watch.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

Tuesday was a nervous waiting game, there were two calls. The first was from Rafi Quastri to the Prince. Apparently there was no time limit on their conversations; the call lasted an hour. The Prince was adamant that he wanted no changes to the plans; just forget about the gun part. The simultaneous attacks would send the message he wanted.

Prince Abdulraouf al-Zahab had been in contact with Venezuelan arms dealer Alejandro Hernandez about the missing machine guns and been assured that it was cartel infighting that was responsible. With the current escalating cartel war in northern Mexico, there was no safe way to send any guns to the United States on short notice until it was over.

Border patrol was checking everything trying to come across. Even the independents had stopped trying to smuggle drugs and people across for the time being.

Hernandez assurances calmed fears that their plans had been leaked.

The second call was between Rafi Quastri and Saif and it was a short call; four minutes. Saif wanted to have the leaders go scout the six colleges again. Rafi Quastri shut down that idea immediately; they had already been there too many times in his opinion. He felt they had all the information they needed.

The tickets had already been bought. The conversation reveled that the plan was to place all ten bombers in one major section of the stadium. By staying in the same area, it would reduce accidental exposure going through different checkpoints.

The rest of Tuesday was spent ordering and verifying dozens of 100-foot man-lifts, with platforms, that would be on site Thursday. The DHS and FBI needed time to camouflage the sides to conceal there were sharp shooters and possibly scanners disguised as TV cameras in them.

Then there was the problem of getting SWAT teams organized and in place for Friday. To add complications, I could not neglect all the other college games. There were literally hundreds of high school and other college games this weekend.

Before I left I sent an advisory raising the alert to red for Thursday and Friday to all towns and cities holding major sporting events.

I did one last thing before I walked out the door; I called General Fillmore, “Schedule the raid on the farm in Minnesota for Friday at 1500. As far as I am concerned, drop a MOAB on the site if there is enough distance from any residential areas. We know for sure it is heavily booby trapped; expect causalities.”

“I will take that under consideration,” the General replied.

Wednesday was filled with surprises and disappointments; the surprise was that the thirty Mossad agents were coming early. They were here now and they would spend the day at the gym and the night at the Horsey house.

Vicky was going to run them through taking pictures for JBG ID cards as a cover and Marcy was going to issue them corporate credit cards with a $5000 limit, in case there was anything they had forgotten or needed, including gifts to take home.

JBG was forbidden to pay them but I could get around that rule.

Tomorrow morning they were splitting up, flying to the various cities. A conference VCATS would inform the DHS local director they were coming and how they were to use them.

Another positive was that there were now ten couples temporary living in the two houses next to Rafi Quastri’s learning center.

The harassment of infidels next to the center started immediately; now I knew why the owners were so eager to get away. JBG buying the two houses threw a wrench into the long term planning.

That plan was to drive the housing prices to nothing by harassing anyone trying to live there and take over the entire area.

The very first day- even though there were plenty of parking spaces inside the center – cars were parked across the driveway blocking our cars in. The operators of those cars ran to the center when Bill approached them.

The cars were parked bumper to bumper but that was no problem for the ten fit men. Cars today are built light for increased fuel economy. The guys simply rolled them up on the roof and kept the roll going until they were on their roofs on the opposite sidewalk. They did that to the cars parked in front of both houses. Bill then called 911 on a burn phone and watched the commotion out the window.

That afternoon old Mack dump trucks – and I mean old – replaced the cars. So old they did not have ignition switches, just a throw switch and a three stick multiplex transmission; they must not have thought anyone but they could drive something like that.

Howie backed the thing up tight against the front door of the center while Roscoe backed the other up to the rear door. Howie sent me pictures. Both doors opened out; they were going to have to crawl out a window to move the truck or call someone.

Bill sent in a text that it was four hours before they could get the trucks moved.

The nervous tension was rising and it was affecting all of us. I could see it in the girls’ actions. We went to the gym and worked out for a couple hours to get rid of the stress with a lot of the visiting Mossad agents.

It was what we all needed to break the mood; they taught us some things and they learned a few things from us. I knew right away that the four who were now on our payroll were going to spend a lot of time as trainers.

We went through the tunnel to the house, stopping to check in with the EIT duty man to see if there was any information. There was nothing new.

Thursday I dreaded the ride to Washington but I had to make it. Traffic was heavy both ways; stop and go this early in the morning. The toll booths were backed up for miles. There were lots of families traveling to visit one another over the holiday.

It was a sobering reminder of what the terrorists had planned; how many families would be destroyed if we had fallen for a ploy and the strikes were elsewhere?

In Section 12 the mood was not much different, but there was a lot of good news. The FBI, with the assistance of local utility crews, had placed cameras in the utility’s street lighting. We now could watch all six suspected learning centers live.

By noon time Thursday all the Mossad officers were at the six colleges meeting with the respective teams. The afternoon was spent checking and double checking.

The final orders were given assigning command duties for the SWAT teams. The DHS, FBI, ATF and local city teams were reluctantly all going to operate under one command. The DHS director in three of the cities and the FBI director in the other three cities was the final makeup. It took threats to make the cities comply.

There was simply no way I was going to have four different groups storming a building under different commanders; one boss and one boss only.

I issued an order for the Federal SWAT teams at the six colleges to be on short notice standby. That meant they could be ready to roll on an hour’s notice.

I also ordered that all body cameras were to be removed from all teams. All cell phones were to be confiscated prior to deployment with a warning that anyone taking pictures or posting them would be in violation and would prosecuted.

I did authorize helmet cams for the Federal SWAT teams, DHS, FBI and the ATF to be linked to the task force.

Body cameras were not a federal requirement anyhow. Many local agencies had fallen into the craze; I was having none of it.

Four departments – Gainesville, Columbia, Lexington and Raleigh – replied to the email, “Will do, thank you.”

Baltimore and West Lafayette replied, “It is policy that all our officers wear body cameras and we will not deviate from that policy.”

They were not going to like my reply.

To: BaltimorePDchief: WestLafayette Police commissioner
Cc: Midwest.dhs.ohamilton, midatlantic.fbi.econway, President.whitehouse.gov,dir.fbi.mcoeburn,dir.dhs.eroberson

Baltimore and West Lafayette Police departments are no longer participating in the task force assigned missions until further notice. They are to be stricken from all information chains, assignments and lose access to the terrorist task force data base as well as all funding effective immediately.

B. Jones, Chairperson Terrorist Task force

As soon as I sent the email I had my clerk remove their access.

Let the chips fall as they may. I was not going to have the media screaming for access to body camera footage. They would be blasting it on TV with no regards for the families of those involved, no matter how many disclaimers they ran 2 seconds before it aired.

By 1500 we were as ready as we could be for Friday; the teams were in place, the snipers had checked out the man lifts and mobile equipment, the fields of fire. All of the scanners and the operators had been run through testing.

I stopped by the Oval Office and had a few words with the President and Troy, then headed home.

It turned into an hour and a half ride; I was home at 1800. We decided to go to the Morton restaurant for supper. Tonight was Texas steak night with all the fixings. It was a great meal; the place was packed with the regulars.

We had just driven into driveway when the EIT duty man called, “YOU NEED TO GET IN HERE NOW.”

“Oh hell, now what,” I thought.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

After making coffee I made the trip to the President’s office. Troy met me at the door. I cut him off before he could start.

“I have recording of all the calls over the weekend. There was nothing drastic in them; just a lot of anxiety after the cartel war. Do you want a private briefing or want to join in with my groups?” I said.

“We will be down. For some reason, the President likes to go down there; I think it is the coffee, or that he can freely express his opinion without political ramifications. You do realize that there have been no leaks from your group,” Troy said.

“That because they know I back my threats up the old fashion way, and I have the means outside of the government to find them,” I replied.

I held off running the DVDs until the President’s group was there, then I played them. I listened to a lively debate about the coincidence of all this happening at the most beneficial time; and stayed out of the conversation.

Then there was the debate about what the calls on Tuesday could bring. Whatever it was, we would only have two and a half days to days to adjust our plans.

The other thing that all the calls solidified was where Rafi Quastri was located. The center he was operating out was in Woodbury NJ, just a stones throw from Philadelphia.

Sunday I gave Lorrie a mission to put one of her administrators on; that was to look for houses for sale or rent near the center.

At 0900 Lorrie sent a text, “Plenty of houses for sale in the area, apparently people are wanting away from there. There are two perfect for what you want. One is facing the east entrance and one facing the west entrance; both have had substantial price cuts.

“Buy and settle on both of them today, fly there if you have to. I want two men and two women from the OPS team acting as husband and wife moved in there tonight or tomorrow morning early,” I said.

The girls and I had talked about the possibility of getting houses yesterday in an idle moment. Marcy handled the financials over the phone. Both owners had moved away in a hurry and left everything in the hands of their lawyers. Email, fax machines and electronic funds transfers are a modern day business friend.

Vicky chose the men and women from the teams to go. Bill Townsend and Ed Dean because they were team leaders, Jackie Deere and Gail Dexter because they spoke excellent Arabic; they were packing to go immediately.

Lorrie was sending them to Philly International by King Air; from there it was a 20 minute drive in a couple of MAAR rental cars. They could be in the houses tonight. Both were supposed to be partially furnished. Along with their go bags would be the latest in surveillance equipment.

Tomorrow friends from the OPS and RRT would show up to help them move in. Four of them would be the ladies from Israel who had a much better understanding of the workings of a learning center and what went on there. Of course they would stay overnight.

I walked out of my office just in time for the crap to hit the fan.

DHS regional directors were meeting with all six of the colleges to inform them of the changes that they were going to make starting Thursday morning.

They were informed about all the preparations taking place before then and the training for the scanners and additional security personnel who were going to show up.

We had drawn up all the changes taking place at every college. We knew that entrances were to be closed so that long lines were going to form. The plan was to give the scanners and thermal units multiple chances to find the people with suicide belts and vests, and then identify them to sharp shooters to keep them out.

The theory – as bad as it was – there would less collateral damage this way. It made me sick to my stomach but the consensus was this was the best worst scenario of all possible evils.

Bradberry promised to have 30 more units delivered to the colleges by Thursday afternoon.

Five of the colleges complained but went along; they understood that something was going on. The sixth was adamantly refusing to go along with any changes.

The Purdue Boilermakers hosting the Hoosiers at West Lafayette were adamantly demanding that no changes were going to interrupt their extravagant pregame fanfare and halftime shows. In fact, they told the director to get out; their security could handle any issue.

The directors did not disclose any real facts other than there were threats. I would personally go and discuss the treats and explain their options.

As luck would have it there were no Air Force private jets at Andrews for my team to use today. A quick call to Lorrie and a G5 was on the way. Marcy had to love all the charges going to the FBI, who had agreed to cover any JBG cost associated with the task force.

My group arrived at Reagan International just as the G5 taxied to the general aviation terminal. This G5 was set up in passenger configuration with all 18 seats installed and all of them were taken.

All the alphabets of the task force were going, my secretary and the rest of the seats were filled with secret service agents and FBI special agents in case this went nasty. I told the agents to expect to have to get rough.

An hour and half later we were on the ground at Purdue University Airport; thirty minutes later we were in a big meeting room full of people who did not need to be there. There were not any seats for my group to sit on; another power play by someone who thought they were important.

I started at the end of the table, “Who are you?”

“Orson Block, Media consultant,” he replied.

I snapped my fingers and pointed to the nearest agent, “Escort him out.”

He started to object; I threw my cuffs on the table that I still habitually carried, “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Your choice,” I said.

The process went on until there were only six left in the room; the president of the athletic association in charge of the game, the college chancellor Joe Spears, two board members, the college attorney and the head of the college security.

Then I held the empty trash can, “Cell phones, pagers and radios in here.” I put the can in the closet and began my speech.

“First, I want to make it perfectly clear I have the authority to cancel your football game. I do not give a rat’s ass for your loss of revenue, football heritage or loss of prestige,” I said.

Then I slid a copy of the federal order signed by the President, the senior director of the DHS, the director of FEMA and the Attorney General over to the school’s attorney; the order only required my signature to put it into effect.

Then the secrecy statement and I waited for them to sign before I continued.

“What you are about to hear is the culmination of weeks of intelligence gathering; some from reliable sources.”

“I must stress that it is classified Top Secret. If any part of this meeting becomes public – a tweet from your son’s or daughter’s phone because they heard you talking or anything else – you will be arrested, processed in the secret terrorism court and you will go to jail.”

“We have reason to believe that a group of terrorists trained and equipped by Saif Alawai al-Jawfi plan to attack your game with 10 suicide bombers along with others using assault rifles on those fleeing for their lives,” I said.

I waited for the information to sink in. Then it looked like someone pulled the floor out from under the six of them.

“What do we need to do?” Joe asked.

“The plan for your college was presented to you this morning but I will present it again.”

“These entrances are to be closed,” as I pointed them out.

“Jersey barriers are to be placed in rows to guide fans into single file rows. We will scan these rows at various points with thermal and imaging scanners that we are confident will detect the explosives and metals.

“We also have experts that will read the crowds looking for telltale signs of bombers,” I said.

What I had not told anyone other than Frank, and Eric was that Ben-David was sending me 30 experts at reading potential suicide bombers by their actions to watch the crowds. I had them for three days; a day to fly in, a day to work the crowds and a day to fly home.

It was a deal in lieu of payment for flight time on the helicopter in Uganda. Mossad was using it a lot and Sikorsky had done a couple inspections and repairs because of the number of hours they were being flown. The FBI was still going to get a bill for the exchange bartering.

It was going to be no secret that there were Mossad at the games, guaranteed to make the terrorists nervous and hopefully give themselves away.

“When you identify them, then what,” Joe asked.

“Sharp shooters will take them out,” I replied.

“Oh God, no, there has to be a better way,” Joe replied.

“Are you volunteering to walk up to them and ask if they are wearing a belt and would follow you to a safe location?” I replied.

‘No.”

“This is the best we have come up with to keep them out of the stadium and avoid mass causalities like in Arizona. The jersey walls – the separation will reduce the collateral damage. The best case scenario would be that they stay together and plan to split up after getting in the stadium. That would allow us to get all of them at once,” I replied,”

“But innocent people are going to die,” the security guy blurted out.

“Innocent people die in war – and make no mistake – this is a war that intentionally targets the innocents,” I replied.

“The jersey walls can be put up Wednesday when they are delivered. The cover story will be new pedestrian entrances to speed up getting into the stadium. The scanner locations will be decided on and tested tomorrow. The sniper teams and positions will be chosen tomorrow,” I said.

“There is to be no public announcement of any changes until Friday morning. That announcement will be to advise fans to come an hour early because of a water flooding issue in the stadium,” I added.

“Our biggest fear is they change their plans and send the bombers into malls on Black Friday,” I said.

“Do not tell friends or anyone to stay away from the game; it will start a whisper campaign that destroys the plans,” I said.

We flew back to Washington; it was one quiet flight. After all the campfires, internal debates and bull sessions; the reality was setting in on what was going to happen and what we had ordered.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

It was 0700 when the C5 touched down. Everyone was in good spirits. I watched them bringing their new gear off the plane.

“The after action report will wait until Monday,” Vicky told the men.

The six trucks were driven into one of the smaller hangars; the guns and drugs went with them. I pulled the battery cables off of them to kill the GPS, if they had one. The hangar was doubly locked and I had Dad install a hasp for padlocks that only we girls had keys to.

We had breakfast in the airport restaurant watching the ZNN News about a new cartel war near the border and the new travel restrictions.

The Mexicali’s were reporting that 24 bodies had been recovered at the site so far and expected more as the rubble cooled.

Mexican drug lord Diego Juan Fernando and his two sons were unaccounted for. The cartel power struggle in the area was in full swing; bodies were being found in several areas. As usual, when you killed one rat there were more to take their place.

We took the five duffle bags into Lorrie’s private office, dumped it on the floor and began counting and stacking it on table. When we were finished there was 25 million in 20s, 50s and 100s stacked on the table. It would join the Prince’s money in the safe that had already been laundered.

We counted out five grand for each of the men that went on the mission – including Robert’s man – and ten for ED and Bill.

Vicky took the things that Ed had given her and put them on the table. They must have had rings on each finger; big heavy gold and diamonds. There were several large gold and diamond bracelets and necklaces that must have weighed a pound.

“Put them in a plastic bag and into the safe at the office,” I said. “No one needs to know we have it.”

The Mexicali’s may not know where Diego Juan Fernando and his two boys were but I was sure they were in the rubble. No other person would be walking around with that kind of display of wealth and power.

I wondered why Fernando and his sons were staying at the villa. Was this gun and drug arrangement with terrorist that big a deal? Was it a sign of many more to come?

I took six calls from task force members before noon wanting to know if I had seen the news and my opinion on the matter.

“Too soon to tell,” was the only opinion that I had.

We separated the phones the teams had brought back; it was easy to distinguish which ones belonged to the Saif’s gang by looking at the call logs.

I called Eric again. “Don’t you ever sleep or quit?” he asked.

“Only when necessary; I have a bag of cell phones that was collected last night; they are ringing like crazy. Do you have a DEA investigative team working today that can make use of them while the information is still active?” I asked then added, “I will keep the ones from the terrorists.”

“Yes, at the Washington main office. I’m here now and not in a position to come get them. Can you bring them over?” he asked.

“If I cannot find someone else, I will,” I replied.

Up in the gym there was the usual Saturday crowd of people with plenty of government employees, including several DEA who readily volunteered to carry them over and hand deliver the bag to Eric. Apparently brownie points carry value at the DEA. The 200 cash I handed him didn’t hurt either.

At 1600 the screen monitoring the terrorist call announced the first call was in progress; one of the phones on the table started ringing. Saif was making the call. Over the next hour all six phones were called by Saif.

At midnight Saif called all the phones again then he called Rafi Quastri. That call lasted 10 minutes while they tried to sort things out.

Rafi Quastri was confident that things were still fine; the group was not to come over the border until 3 AM and then they would have better phone reception.

My mates had gone to bed long ago. I walked through the tunnel, quietly showered and joined Jenny.

Jenny and I made up for being apart so much in the morning. We finally had to cool it when the boys started jabbering away.

Sunday morning we cooked a big breakfast; we had invited all the family yesterday afternoon. It was the first big family breakfast that we had had in a while. It would take days in the gym to work it off but it was worth it. It was the kind of time I needed with family and friends.

After everyone left we girls had a long talk in the living room with Vicky. It was an open, relaxed talk. Most of all, we listened.

“I was afraid of failing and letting the team down by not holding up my part. Then I was afraid as the man was coming towards me, afraid I would freeze and not be able to act. Then I had an adrenaline rush as I swung into action,” she said.

“I even remember the smell of blood when I cut his throat – it sort or sprayed out – and how he went limp as I shoved him into the outhouse. I don’t remember doing the sweep of the place before I closed the door but I knew I did. I can still see the holes cut in the boards they sit on to crap and the rolls of paper,” she added.

“I do not remember flipping the safety off on the M16 when the guy came out the window. He scared me to death with that scream; I consciously had to force myself to pull the trigger.”

“With the second guy it was just automatic, like something I did every day. I could hear the thump, thump of the bullets hitting him and could see his reaction with each hit. He had a knife in his hand that he dropped as he fell,” she said.

“Paul came to help me from the side and said, ‘Damn, girl you don’t need any help – good job.’ Then Ed called for me to come inside and make decisions,” Vicky said and then continued.

“I was fine until we got back to the C5 and loaded, then I was exhausted like running a marathon,” she said.

“I assume you went to control the logistics but when Martin broke his leg you stepped up to the plate to keep the team to full strength. From what I see you did exceptionally well; great would be even a better word. The let down at the plane was the adrenaline crash, not unusual at all,” I replied.

“Tomorrow I want to see the team as a group when I come home from Washington. You can hand out the bonuses and we can do a team assessment of the mission,” I said.

Sunday afternoon the calls to the phones became frantic from Saif. We had turned the phones off. So frantic was Saif that he called Rafi Quastri. The call lasted 20 minutes. Apparently Saif did not like it when his plans went to hell so early in the game.

Rafi Quastri tried to call Diego Juan Fernando several times.

Sunday afternoon ZNN carried the news flash that Diego Juan Fernando and his family had been killed by a rival cartel gang. The bodies had been identified by DNA. The Mexican Federal police stormed his mansion in Camaron and seized everything.

They also reported that six Middle Eastern men had been killed at the compound execution style and were looking for a connection to Fernando.

Rafi Quastri made one long call to Saif; it was instructions to continue the plans as they had been discussed without the heavy weapons portion. He also gave Saif instructions to call the six phones no more for fear the Mexican police had the phones. The final instruction was for a conference call Tuesday at the scheduled time and no calls until then.

All the calls Saif had made locked down his location to a center at Columbia, South Carolina.

The video from Friday night’s mission had been removed from the servers to DVDs and two copies were made. One went in my safe and the other in the new EIT secure storage unit safe.

All the terrorist phone calls were transferred to DVDs that I was to take with me to the task force tomorrow morning.

We were just getting ready to have supper salad, soup and homemade subs, when Art Cummings of the NIA called on the State Department issued secure phone. I received an official intelligence briefing on the demise of Diego Juan Fernando and the fallout in the cartel.

The briefing had the latest on the six Middle Eastern men; Mexico was sending them to the FBI lab for identification. They would land at Andrews tonight.

I had sent a team to Mexico to kill them and they were still going to end up in Washington anyhow; the irony of it all was laughable.

I was willing to bet that they came in on a tanker, same as Saif. I would also bet they had important roles in Friday’s attacks and that was why Saif was so upset.

I made it to my chair just as the salad bowl was put on the table and watched the boys feeding themselves pieces of tomatoes, celery, ham, salami, sub rolls and making a mess with Sippy cups.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.