Chapter 457

Many of the task force members left in a hurry to return to their own agency to assist in and get updates on the new problem with Namibia.

I was left with my four from the Department of Education and they thought they were going to get to leave.

“I have been told that I have access to the entire Department of Education database through you. I want a series of reports run a couple of different ways.”

“I want a list of all colleges in the US from the largest to the smallest; I want their worth, endowments, investments, tuition, state and federal grants. If possible, I want how much money they get from their sports programs,” I instructed.

“Then do a separate list by state and put them in binders,” I said.

“I also want it in electronic format,” I said.

“I’m not sure the department will allow you the financial information. What do you need that for?” Tanya asked.

Tanya Birch seemed to be over the other three from the Department of Education.

“At some point funding for security equipment is going to come up. We have to develop policy, procedures and eligibility criteria, and a way to convince Congress to get on board,” I replied.

“If there is going to be a problem, I will get the President to make a call to your Secretary,” I said.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Tanya replied.

When I went back to my emails, there was another unwanted surprise. There were two electronic subpoenas to appear, this time from the House Domestic Terrorism Committee. I was to appear with unspecified documents and it was on Friday. I wondered just what unspecified documents meant.

The other was to appear and testify to the Senate Embassy Security Steering Committee. One was Friday morning, the other was Friday afternoon.

I had no time to testify for either committee; and I said that in the reply I sent to each. My time needed to be directed to catching Saif and his associates.

I called Victor to discuss the Namibia situation. It was going to be quick call but turned into a long conversation. We discussed the issues that my men had concerns about at Kampala and several embassies in Africa.

I asked Victor if he was getting nervous about the wedding Saturday?

“Nervous no, excited yes. All three of us are excited, Allie wants to make Joni officially Mom, as much as I want to make her my wife.”

“They finished the last few things on the house a couple days ago; it is perfect. I think Alica is going to be staying a lot on weekends. She and Allie are really close.”

“Any time you need Allie to stay over, she is always welcome, Alica is moving into the room Patti was in. Patti has moved all her things into her new house. The wedding is tomorrow night,” I replied.

I called Eric, while I was talking to Victor several questions had popped into my head that I needed answers to.

“Eric, what happened to Diya’s cell phone and records from it?” I asked.

After a real long delay, “That’s a good question I haven’t seen that report either,” he replied.

“I want to see the complete report on Diya and his SUV, including the complete list of all the evidence collected. The investigators I asked for are to be here tomorrow; they can go over it,” I replied.

“I take it you think something has been missed,” Eric replied.

“Something is wrong; I know something has been missed. We just have to find out what and how it connects things together,” I replied.

“Diya had to have a phone; where is it? The phones on the two vests, what numbers were on them? Did they do test calls from Saif and are they still in the call logs? Saif had to have a phone to communicate with Diya,” I said.

“Have the records of the cell towers around the college been searched for that day? Can the phones be connected?” I asked.

“Where is Diya’s SUV; is it still in the impound lot?” I asked.

“I can’t answer those questions. Call Len,” Eric responded.

Call Len I did; the results were not any better. In fact they were more troubling.

“The SUV is still in the impound lot for a few more days. Diya’s brothers are suing to get it released and have been demanding to get it back almost the next day,” Len said.

“That should have raise red flags galore. I can solve that for you. I want it brought to Washington to the FBI forensics lab. I want it stripped to the last nut and bolt. I just need to figure out how to make that happen,” I replied.

“What about Diya’s personal effects and clothes and cell phone when he was carried to the hospital; where are they?” I asked.

“They are in the evidence locker, we never found a cell phone,” he replied.

“Where are the two vests and the phones that were on them?” I asked.

“The ATF has them,” Len replied.

A call to Marty Coeburn answered several questions and an agreement to help fast track it into the lab and pay for the air cargo charge to get it to Washington.

More calls to Len and Lorrie put the delivery to Washington tomorrow. One of the C130’s would handle it and Len would see that it was carried from the impound yard to the airport.

Dealing with the ATF was another problem. I called a dozen numbers that were listed in the internal federal directory I was given, ending up with nothing. At one point they even denied ever having the vest.

I knew that to be a lie; I had a copy of the report where they had analyzed the explosives in the thing.

Finally throwing in the towel I called Attorney General Dunne; he was in the first meeting with the President but there was no representative from the ATF in my task force.

My call was not well received; he had already been informed that I had made calls to people in his agency.

“What do you want the suicide vests for?” he demanded.

“I do not want the vests, I want the cell phones that are attached to the vests so I can have them analyzed by DHS and NSA. It’s a long shot that there is anything to help but long shots are all we have right now.”

“I will make some calls and see that you get them,” he replied then he hung up.

I had run everything I could think of for the time being about MSU and turned my attention to the Arizona State for the hour that was left of today. My process coordinators began the task of putting everything together while my secretaries converted all my calls and meetings into transcripts for the mandatory permanent record.

I could hold the transcripts for 30 days before they had to be sent to someone to determine the classification, and then to the archives.

I left on time and made it to the house in time to shower and get into my costume for the wedding. The other girls were doing the same thing. it was going to be a small wedding in the Hillchurch community center.

Jason was going to walk Patti down the isle dressed as the distraught father. Lisa was dressed as the devil walking behind with the rubber pitch fork to keep her from changing her mind.

The wedding was a blast even with the crazy theme. Everyone was ready to party and party we did. It was a refreshing break from all the things we had on our plate.

Patti and Purnell were off to Aruba for their honeymoon for two weeks. I wondered who would be worn out first. Let the fun times roll.

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Chapter 456

“Boss; the surveillance here doubled yesterday; before that there was only one or two individuals watching; yesterday someone was watching all four sides. Today there are two sometimes three or four watching all the sides,” Andy said.

“This is an English speaking country but what we are intercepting is a mix. Some of conversations are in Arabic and others are English. They are using el-cheapo radios like hunters use. They are changing channels every hour thinking they are being secretive,” Robert said then he added.

“What I am intercepting looks like they are planning something in 72 hours. They are waiting on the rest of their people the Arabic speakers have discussed.”

“Planning what where?” the president asked.

“To attack the US embassy in Windhoek Namibia,” I replied.

The room got quiet then sounded like I was sitting in a basket ball game in over time with the score tied.

I wrapped on the table to get everyone quiet so I could continue my conversation with Andy.

“Boss,” I said to Andy.

“Understood BJ,” he replied.

Andy and I had worked out a code the next day after I found out I was doing the task force just in case something like this happened. When I called him Boss that meant that he was in full command of the special ops and rapid response teams and that he had carte blanche at the site in question. His response by calling me BJ meant he understood and accepted the assignment.

He was to continue calling me BJ until he was ready to give up the command; at that time he would call me Boss. My response was to be “Understood Andy,” to acknowledge his release of the command.

“Boss; A1 and A2 are open with no restrictions,” I replied.

A1 and A2 were code word for the armories, the one at Morton where heavy equipment and the drones were stored and the one at the gun club where ammunition and other weapons were stored. No restrictions meant he had my approval to get anything he wanted from either armory.

“BJ, I called all the RRT they are on the way to Morton field; Lorrie says the planes will depart in two hours at the latest,” Andy replied.

“Vicky, don’t forget to send 900 MHz radios and several satellite phones,” I replied.

“Robert; I think the LBB is what you need to use instead of the BBB; Andy may be pressed for time,” I said.

LBB and BBB referred to the encryption codes Robert had developed for the Kampala attack. Little Black Book of codes were 25 different codes. The Big Black Book was 250 codes. Andy didn’t have time to deal with the BBB even though Robert had improved and spread up the deciphering process.

“Understood, BJ,” Robert replied.

I sent Vicky a text, “Load two of the boxes in the Morton armory marked LZ17B on the plane going to Andy. Put on the box attention to be opened by Andy only,”

“Boss I am sending two LZ17B units to you. When you acknowledge possession I will send the manual. Do not attempt to power up until you have read the manual. The results could be catastrophic.”

“OK I definitely will wait on the manual,” Andy replied.

The LZ17B was from Ben David and one of Mossad latest nonlethal riot control devices; they were experimental. They emitted a rapid pulsed high intensity laser flash in broad spectrum 20 to 50 meters wide 10 meters high with a range of 50 meters. They also emitted a directed very high frequency pulse tone over the same area that temporally damaged the inner ear causing massive pain and created drunken sailors on a badly rocking ship.

On the low setting it would temporally blind for 20 minutes and cause disorientation for up to an hour. On the high settings blindness and disorientation could last days.

Anyone using optics that was hit with the pulse the effects multiplied. There were 24 special glasses and ear muffs in each box that the operator and anyone with or behind the operator needed to wear in case the laser beams or tones were reflected back and that could happen with any shiny or highly surface.

“BJ I do have one request, I think it is time we hired another 20 former special forces to add to our special OPS team,” Andy said.

“Vicky, have Mischief and Mayhem get started on that,” I replied.

“OK BJ,” Vicky replied.

“Boss, do you think you can get the men in without being seen and the Ambassador and his family out with out being seen?”

“Yes we can do the personnel transfer in the garage. It is connected to the embassy with a tunnel,” Andy replied.

“Boss” I said.

“I know BJ; you would not ask us to do anything that you would not do your self. I know that tomorrow morning when the sun came up you would be standing on the roof in full gear beside me with out hesitation. Your plate is full; find and KILL Saif. We have this under control we will have 70 men and ladies in here when the rest of the team arrives it will be tight quarters but we will make it work,” Andy replied.

“10-4 if he gets in my sights he is dead but not before he makes a trip to camp Smith if I have a choice in the matter. The doc is willing to do a physical on him,” I replied.

“Boss if they have done any research on us they know that frontal assaults and truck bombs do not work very well. If I remember the embassy has thick walls and they are high. Watch out for an all out mortar and RPG attack,” I replied.

“My thoughts exactly given the location and intercepts,” Andy replied as he closed the screen.

“Lorrie is sending both G650’s the 737 is in California and is not due back until late,” Vicky added before she and Robert closed the screen.

“Mr. President, someone needs to make the decision as to if the Ambassador Eaton and his family stays or returns with the aircraft,” I said.

The president made a motion to his aide, “get the Sec of State on the phone.”

Cell phones started ringing, and text by the dozens by the special tones, laptops came out of brief cases and went into use.

A few minutes later when things settled down Ben Smith said, “Am I the only one that noticed that BJ was having two conversations in one. One was for public consumption and the other one in secret in code?”

“What?” Rex asked. He was the assistant director of the FBI.

“Andy opened by calling BJ Boss at the beginning; then BJ called Andy boss and the whole tempo of the conversation changed and codes were added. Things like A1, A2, no restrictions, LBB, BBB, and whatever LZ17B is must be one bad SOB; catastrophic results.” Ben said as he was staring me down. Then he added.

“What the hell is mischief and Mayhem, WWF fighters? I know one of your training sites is called camp Smith. What else goes on there? A visit to Camp Smith to see the doc, what kind of doc; what kind of physical takes place there?”

“Oh wait a minute; I have seen your medical work. Don’t answer that I don’t want to know.” Ben responded.

In my best sergeant Shultz voice, “Colonel Hogan I see nothing; I know nothing. Commandant Klink will be furious if he found out. It is very cold on the Russian front and you know I do not like cold.”

The President must have been a Hogan’s Heroes fan, “General Hochstetter, there has never been an escape from Stalag 13,” he said in a Col Klink voice with a laugh.

The president took a call from the Secretary of State.

“Ambassador Eaton and his family are to come back on one of your planes,” the President said.

I sent Vicky and Andy a text to make sure that the Ambassador got the word to be ready to fly out when my men arrived.

The more I thought about the conversation with Andy and the follow up with Ben, I came to the conclusion that it would be better if we took Saif alive and did it quietly.

I was sure the President and most of the federal agencies want a big firefight and Saif’s body carried out on a stretcher in a body bag for the cameras.

What we really needed was three days to question and torture him if necessary to get every contact, location of planned attacks and where the explosives were, and then they could blast him away like Bin Laden.

He would never allow himself to be taken alive. Saif would never allow the remote chance that the Hawks would overrule the Doves in our government. Convincing them to look the other way while extreme torture by the Doc could do was carried out on him for information he would readily give after several sessions.

He was not worried about sodium pentothal, water boarding, sleep deprivation, or lie detectors; they were child’s play. People of his level had been well schooled while hiding in the caves; even trained on how to ignore or accept the effects of those things if they were captured.

Doc Burns and I had many conversations when he was checking out how my injuries had healed after my brushes with terrorists.

While he was a great doctor, I also found out his great hatred for murders, rapists and terrorists. The Doc even flew to other states to perform death row executions and never had one go bad. The local doctors wanted no parts of executions; it was a kiss of death for a medical practice. An outsider was always flown in.

I also found out he was a student of history – specifically torture – and had done an in-depth study of Nazi Joseph Mengele.

But it didn’t matter if we caught him alive; he would be lawyer up and be paraded in the media, immediately destroying any hope of exposing the people in his network. They would disappear immediately, only to continue their deadly activity another day.

Then again, maybe not.

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Chapter 455

After lunch we round-tabled the attack at MSU I could easily see this was going nowhere. No one was offering any new information. There should have been plenty by now, after the Saif connection.

Finally I gave up on the open forum route and just started asking questions.

I started with Ben Smith, “Has the NSA reconstructed Saif’s route from the Middle East yet?”

After some throat clearing, “Well, not exactly; we think he came as a crew member of an oil tanker to New Jersey. From there he went to the Islamic learning center in New York.”

“There is some fuzzy surveillance video footage of a hooded individual entering and leaving the learning center. They are not good enough for positive identification, but the size and height are close,” Ben said.

“There are also some long range photos of the same hooded man and the leaders of the Rochester group that you have had run ins with before, there and in Kampala. We just don’t know,” Ben replied.

“I think we know enough now to say all of this is connected in some way, it also means this group is much bigger and diverse than we thought.”

“Saif is not showing up, and in a matter of three weeks recruited suicide bombers, picked targets and was building bombs. It takes weeks or months to brainwash or radicalize someone to be a suicide bomber. It had to start long before Saif showed up in the area,” I replied.

“The Coast Guard checks the crew manifest and makes electronic copies of their ID when they do the inspection, before the ship reaches port. If you think he came in on the East Coast, have you pulled all the Coast Guard reports for the last year looking for irregularities?” I asked.

“That is out of NSA jurisdiction. The Coast Guard handles that with the DHS,” Smith replied.

“Arnie, has DHS received copies of those reports from the Coast Guard to review?” I asked.

“I don’t think so; I am not sure a request was ever sent for that information,” he replied.

“When we cut for break, make the call; if it has not been requested, do it and expedite and see that I get a copy of the electronic file with all the pictures sent to me,” I directed.

As an afterthought to that statement, I called Chin Lee.

“Go though the daily logs for Rochester. There were three times we allowed them to put the fence postings up a day early for special events. I want all the video from all the fence cameras and the cameras I had added that captured towards the development. Start with the day before the postings and one day after for all three times,” I directed.

I wondered if Saif was the reason for Aadam Mohamed taking his trip to be radicalized and his demise.

I called Art Cummings; he was the power broker in yesterday’s meeting with the President.

“Art, I want four desktop computers with facial recognition programs on them. How do I get them? I know the GSA can get the computers but what about the programs and the training to use them? I also want at least two more process coordinators and a couple trained investigators,” I asked.

“What are you doing? Why do you want them?” he asked.

“Trying to put the puzzle together; progress requires more tools than I currently have,” I replied.

“So you think you have found something?” Art replied.

“We are just beginning to shake the dust off things; a couple of the dots are too close. I just need more tools and people to operate them,” I replied.

“I will call GSA and place a rush on the computers, in the morning a tech will install the program and train your people. I will send Grace a text to send you two more people. Call Eric for the investigators,” Art replied.

My next call was to Len Zimmerman.

“Len, this time I have questions for you; I assume you collected all the traffic cam data from around the college by now, how far a radius from the college?” I asked.

“About a mile,” Len replied.

“I want you to do a sweep at a 5 mile radius from the college; every video cam you can find on that day from banks, drug stores, gas stations, hotels, motels and retail outlets. I also want all tag scanner data for that day, don’t forget the toll roads and bridges.”

“Wow, that is going to be labor intensive,” he replied.

“Call Kent Dalton; get him to help you or I can call him. Divide it up in a grid. What I am looking for is where Saif met the bombers to install the belts on them,” I replied.

“Saif is not the suicide type; I don’t think he rode for a hundred miles in the same vehicle with them wearing the belts. There would be too much of a chance for an accident, especially if narcotics were part of the process or them having one last change of mind. That would be a long ride with a bomb around your waist to think about it,” I replied.

“If there were such a meeting, it would possibly give us the other players, cars, tag numbers they are traveling in and other IDs they are using. I know it is a long shot, but I am taking any shots I can get,” I replied.

“It was three weeks and 1500 miles between MSU and Arizona. I’m expecting it to be an every 3 or 4 week event somewhere. Terror is about creating fear as much as killing. Both help achieve their goals, especially if it gets to be a routine,” I said.

With all that done I started asking questions about Arizona.

“Rex; where are the reports from the ASU attack? By now the FBI should have all the bomb parts collected and analyzed. This task force should have the pictures and reports.”

“I haven’t seen any reports yet; there is nothing in my email,” Rex replied.

I started to respond to his statement.

“I’ll make the call; you want pictures of the components and forensics report, anything else?” Rex asked.

“The name of man in charge at Phoenix for starters; I have a lot of questions for him,” I replied.

It was almost 14:15 when the President knocked and then stepped in. Small talk about how our day had been; I was sure some of the people I had called went up the ladder to find out what my approval and authority levels were.

A page went off on my VCATS system; when I looked at it, it was coded 911. We had developed the system for pages to place a level of importance on the calls. 911 was an emergency with the highest priority.

“Mr. President, I need to breakaway from our conversation for just a second to take this call.”

My computer was still hooked to the system and when I accepted the call, it went to all three screens. We were all looking at Andy, Vicky and Robert on the split screen.

“It’s OK, I am among friends. Andy, what do you have?”

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Chapter 454

It was a hot night with the all the girls before I finally fell asleep with Vicky. All of us got up early and were eating breakfast when the commotion started outside.

Bob was outside with the dumpster company putting dumpsters near the tunnel entrance. He had taken my pressure seriously. There were two roll-offs by the box. The crane was setting a portable generator on the other side of the box.

On my way out the drive, I stopped to talk to Bob.

“The guys round-tabled last night before they went home. The electricians think they can do a quick visual inspection of the spool and tube wiring, then cut it loose from the panel on the other end to isolate it from the hidden panel, just to be safe. It might be old but there are literally millions of places that still have it in service,” Bob said then added.

“Then we will power it up from the generator on this end. We will know pretty quickly if it is OK. With the 10 foot height, no one is going to get into it, plus we will make everyone aware. If it works it will speed things along by several days,” Bob said.

“With lighting, the clean out can start today and the electricians can start their part,” Bob added.

“On your way to Washington?” Bob asked.

“Yep, it’s going to be a busy day,” I replied.

“Pick up a couple of the area papers. You are front, second and third page news and the same with local TV,” Bob added.

Just as we were talking, a TV truck pulled to a stop in front of our driveway before it turned into the gym.

“I can see why you want a rush on this now,” Bob replied.

“Bob, that’s only a small part; there are a thousand things going on that hopefully no-one ever has to find out or experience. Just as an example, the SUVs that the girls and I ride in have 1 in thick special bullet proof glass, the floor, sides, doors and top are hardened armor plate and the tires are special run flat in case they are shot,” I replied.

“Damn, it’s that serious? I had no idea,” he replied.

Even after the delay I was walking through security at the White House at 0635. The secret service agent who had a fit yesterday was working the security station today.

“No need to put your tools in the locker today, the director says you are good. By the way, I’m Greg Archer,” he said then he added.

“Coffee and donuts are already on your meeting room table for you.”

“Thank you Greg,” I replied.

The GSA had been true to their word; everything looked nearly done. There was even a break counter with two old Bunn coffee percolators that looked like they just came out of a mess tent somewhere and a case of Marine Corp issue coffee. There was also a microwave that looked new.

Eric or Frank must have told someone what I liked for coffee, strong and black.

There was also a tray of things to ruin a great cup of coffee; coffee mate, sugar, artificial sweeteners and other additives.

The first thing I did was to rinse and fill the coffee makers and start coffee brewing in one of them. The strong coffee that I liked would carry me through the long day I was expecting.

There were a couple men working to get the big flat screens working correctly with the computers. From the terminology they were using, they were IT techs.

“Before you leave, there are some questions I need answered,” I said to the one who was acting like the team leader.

I went to work finishing the meeting agenda. I was anxious to see just how cooperative all those agencies would be sitting at the same table. I expected all those high strung agencies to still be secretive – Presidents orders or not.

The coffee had finished just in time; I was ready for a refill. At the first sip I knew it was perfect.

“Coffee is ready, men.”

My four ladies arrived as a group and started putting their office space together and checking out their computers while the techs were here.

The tech people showed me how to connect my JBG laptop and I did a test with the girls on SVOL – the system that the colleges used.

The VCATS that connected to the embassy system connected with no problem at all. I had a surprise on the desktop of my state department laptop when the updates finished loading.

The MTAC system icon was active; it had always been on the computer but labeled inactive. I asked the tech about the change.

“We do not have authorization to make that change; it had to come from the Pentagon, with approval from upstairs in the intelligence committee on the second floor.”

“We have a way to check that it works with the Pentagon security desk. Click the icon and see if your State Department ID and login works.”

It did and I clicked into the Pentagon security terminal. The operator responded to my page. The thing worked just like VCATS. While I was talking on the security terminal, I was paged.

“Damn, are they watching me that close?” I wondered.

When I clicked to accept, General Walton was on all three wall monitors.

“Good morning Ambassador, I see you know how to use MTAC. If you can have your associates with you next Monday, we can sign the contracts at 9 in your new office. Then we shall discuss in depth the process that was used to confirm Saif’s death – that was obviously wrong,” the General said.

“I can do that,” I replied.

“You will have the classified file of the mission to kill Saif along with the before and after intelligence and confirmation reports in a few minutes. I’m sure you will find it interesting reading,” the General said.

“Thank you General, I will see you next Monday at 0900 if not before,” I replied.

By 0900 all the committee members were seated; many of them were new faces ordered by their directors to be their agencies representative, like it or not.

As Cassy passed out the nondisclosure statement for everyone to sign, I asked the first question “Does everyone here have clearance to see and review classified materials? If not, now is the time to say so.”

Rex Schram was the assistant director of the FBI. Armie Ratcliff was assistant director from the DHS. I had been in several meetings with him and Eric. He was timid when Eric was with him. I wondered if there would be a change when he was on his own; I would soon find out.

Ben Smith drew the short straw from NSA and rumor was that they actually drew straws. He had started to sit as far away from me as possible, but a hand wave at him directing him to a front seat settled that.

Ronda and Mona were busy making name cards to place on the table so I could at least be able to call them something besides, {hey you}.

To break the ice and get things moving, I started with the MSU episode; everything that had been made public and some not. I ran the video from all the cameras; the suicides on the west, the take down on the east side, the SUVs blowing up. I even ran the TV footage of the confrontation with the Mayor.

I played the video from the fire department’s command truck of extinguishing the fires and recovery of the bodies. That video was a gift from the Fire Chief for putting the now former Mayor over the hood of his car.

I finished up the MSU presentation with the full report I had from Ben-David. That carried us to lunch that was held in the White House cafeteria.
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Chapter 453

After seeing my family off, I met with the GSA group. They were the people that handled all government buildings, furnishings and equipment.

I took the elevator down to the fourth level in the super secret new underground White House office expansion. GSA contractors had been years building the offices with big tarps and tents to keep prying eyes and satellites from seeing what they were doing.

Section 12 was where my task force was assigned. I was informed they were not to be called foremen or supervisors. They had computer printouts of various office setups based on the dimensions of section 12.

Being a novice, I asked what other department heads would choose for a space like this. She quickly narrowed it down to two.

I chose the one where there was one private office with everyone else in cubicles. There was an area with fax and copiers. All the cubicles had computers with printers. At the end of the cubicles there was a 20 person meeting table with 5 x 8 ft flat screens on the three walls.

“What will it take – a week or better to get this set up?” I asked.

“Oh no; all the standard office packages are prepackaged and staged at the GSA warehouse. The same is with the office equipment and communications. As soon as I click the approved tag and send it, they will be loaded on the truck and on their way,” she replied.

“The orders for the night shifts to assemble it tonight were sent out yesterday. This job was flagged as a top priority. There may still be odds and ends to finish in the morning, but you will have a place to work.”

I went back to office 12 and went to work with the only items I had in my portable office. I laid out tomorrow’s agenda for the first meeting of the task force.

Since I was using my secure state department laptop, it hooked right up to the White House wired system.

To use my JBG laptop, I used one of my cell phones as a hotspot.

I was just getting into the good stuff when two people from the ethics group came in the door to begin my OJT in Washington ethics and a handful of disclosure forms I needed to fill out.

I looked at the forms and decided it would be best if Curtis Warren or Howard, Howard & Fine assisted me with them.

After a brief overview, I sent them on their way and a promise that next week I would give them a couple hours to finish their speech.

They had not even finished when another agent brought in a stack of personnel files. He had a lady trailing behind him.

“I’m Grace Logan and I have been assigned to you for the rest of the day as your clerk. These four personnel files are from the secretarial pool. They were the first four that have volunteered to work for you; there are dozens more if these do not suit,” she said.

“Can these ladies be located to do an interview now?” I asked.

“It will take a couple minutes. Which one do you want first?” Grace asked.

“I want all four at the same time,” I replied.

“That’s a bit unorthodox,” Grace replied.

“They are going to work together; let’s see how they interact together from the beginning,” I replied. And then I added. “Get them here while I review the files.”

“Yes Ma-am.”

The files had their ID picture as the first sheet then all the things that should be in a personnel file. Education, college, each of the four spoke a different foreign language that happened to be four of the seven I spoke; something in common with them already.

Bobbie Canterberry, Celeste Newsome, Cassy Bitmore, and Mona Fox followed Grace in. Once they were seated, I started talking.

“Good afternoon, I’m Roberta Jones, I have been called a lot of things over the years such as Bobbie Joe when I was little. Later that became BJ, then Sergeant Jones and most recently Ambassador Jones. Every now and then someone will call me that woman or bitch. My friends call me BJ and I’m OK with that,” I said.

Bobbie Canterberry spoke German. I asked my questions in German, “Why did you volunteer to be a part of this task force?”

“Warum hast du dich freiwillig dazu verpflichtet, ein Teil dieser Task Force zu sein?”

“Du erinnerst mich an meine Mutter. Stark entschlossen und wird nicht mit Stier Mist irgendwelche lassen keine Ablenkungen stören, um den Job zu erledigen,“ she replied.

What she said was, “You remind me of my mother. Strong determined and will not put up with bull crap and will not let any distractions interfere with getting the job done.”

“Was, wenn ich dir gesagt habe, dass du stehen und streifen sollst, was wäre deine Antwort? What I asked was,“What if I told you to stand and strip, what would your response be?”

“Nein,” “No” she replied.

I asked the same questions of the other three in the foreign languages they spoke. I was satisfied with their responses and with their personnel files filled with good comments and appraisals, they deserved a chance to prove themselves.

I chose Bobbie to be my personal secretary with Cassy to be the general secretary. Celeste and Mona were going to be my process coordinators.

The process coordinators would collect the flow of information from the participants in the task, do research on behalf of the task force. Then keep it in an order we could easily follow.

I thanked Grace for her assistance as she left. I shut the door behind her to address my new team.

“Tomorrow the GSA says we will have a place to work. I understand the President is an early bird; we will be too. I will be in the office at 0700.”

“We will build the rules as they are needed. The most important thing you need to remember; you report to me. I insist there be no leaks of information; no water cooler talk about what goes on, in, or about our new office. All requests and statements go through me,” I said.

“Our first meeting with all the members is at 9 tomorrow. From 0700 to 0900 will be very busy for all five of us.”

We talked for another hour, just feeling each other out. I left at three; there was a wedding rehearsal tonight and the real thing tomorrow night for Patti and Purnell.

After I left I thought about the time and it was an issue. 1500 hours here was 1200 in California; that meant there were 4 hours that there would be no one in the office to cover for 40% of the US population in several densely populated areas. It was an area filled with multiple daily public events.

Then as an afterthought; it really didn’t matter as all the other federal agencies were 24/7 as were the first responders. The task force job was to try and prevent an attack by shared intelligence or find the culprits afterwards.

The roads were crowded on the way home, moving fast and bumper to bumper. I arrived home in time to sit in on the last few minutes of the regular meeting before going to the wedding rehearsal and dinner.

I found out how Vicky had handled the Windhoek, Namibia suspicions.

“Andy and a special OPS team arrived last night. Robert hacked into the general antenna the embassy uses to monitor local radio traffic. If there is anyone using phones for reporting, he said he can find them,” Vicky replied. Then she added.

“Andy is going to give a preliminary report tomorrow at two our time.”

The wedding rehearsal was a blast; Purnell was a comedian and that explained the Halloween theme.

Neither Patti nor Purnell had any family. Patti’s parents left taking everything with them with just a few months before she graduated college.

Purnell was an only child; his parents and grandparents on both sides had passed on when he was in his senior year.

“We have lived through tough times, now we are ready for the fun times. Let the fantasy begin!” Purnell said.

‘To each his own,’ I thought, but the costumes and masks for the wedding party and guests were going to make things interesting at the reception.

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Chapter 452

I asked a Secret Service agent if there was another door out to the VIP section. My family was already out there. I wanted a couple more words with them.

“Just this one; I will walk you out there,” he replied.

As soon as I stepped out the door, it seemed like 10 thousand camera flashes went off and never stopped. My mates crowded around me as I got to them, “Are you nervous BJ?” Jenny asked.

“Yes I am; I know it is a little late, but are all of you OK with this?” I asked for the second or third time in the last day.

Marcy was the one to answer, “We would have said something long before now if there were concerns. You do what you always do and that makes us proud.” The rest were nodding and smiling.

“I think I am speaking for all of us. Never in our wildest dreams could we have imagined that we would be standing on the White House lawn waiting for one of our own to speak after the President. From the beginning, we were together supporting one another and we are together supporting you in this,” Vicky said.

I responded by giving them all hugs, and as I finished the agent said, “The President is almost ready; we need to go back inside.”

Five minutes later I followed the President, Vice President and his senior staffers out on the east lawn facing what looked like hundreds of reporters. I chose my usual place behind everyone else; there was no hope that they would forget I was here today.

The president began his speech.

“Troubled times call for drastic action and trouble has hit America twice in three weeks. Terrorism has come home, directed against our youth at our colleges.”

“Our colleges are a place where our differences were open for discussion and debated. Now the open debate of ideas is stifled by fear, bombs and death.”

“I ordered the creation of an Anti-terrorism Presidential task force to coordinate efforts to find the terrorist involved and to assist all colleges to bring security to the unprecedented levels necessary to protect college students, faculty and citizens in the future.”

“I wanted someone for chairperson of this task force who fully understood the risks. Who was not afraid to give orders, not afraid to kick ass when it was called for and had personal experience in dealing with terrorists.”

“I chose Ambassador Roberta Jones for Chairperson. Ambassador Jones has served our country repeatedly, first as a highly decorated Marine, and then President of a multinational security company that supplies security forces for 80 US embassies and 14 colleges covering thousands of students and factuality members.”

“Ambassador Jones personally responded to an act of terrorism at the Annapolis mall, the Morton Field attack, the attack at MSU just 3 weeks ago and who can forget the picture of Ambassador Jones standing on the roof of the US embassy in Kampala after the terrorist attack. Blooded, bruised but still standing tall and still serving.”

“Ambassador.”

I walked to the podium with my folder and shook the President and Vice President’s hands on the way.

“Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, senior staff, thank you for having the confidence in my abilities to lead this very important task force. Mr. President, that introduction reminded me of why my body hurts so much sometimes.”

“As the President said, the task force was given a set of directives. The first one of those was to coordinate the search and arrest or bring about the death of Saif Alawai al-Jawfi, who evidence shows to be the explosive expert and master mind of the Minnesota and possibly the Arizona attacks.”

“The Attorney General will have much more on that in a few minutes.”

“To accomplish this, task force membership will be representatives from the DHS, FBI, CIA, INS, NSA and the Pentagon, along with other justice departments, strategic agencies and the Department of Education. Other agencies may be called upon if their assistance will be beneficial.”

“Another directive is for the task force to create national standards for security of all colleges, schools and public events. The haphazard security practices of the past are no longer sufficient.”

“The changes that need to be made are going to affect more than our educational system. Every single public event has to be viewed as a potential target – baseball, football, hockey, auto races – the list goes on and on. Security must become the primary part of planning for every event. The sponsors of these events will be held accountable if they have not provided sufficient security.”

“Saif Alawai al-Jawfi and his associates working with him are not the first and are certainly only one of many terrorists that have made their way from the Middle East conflict, who intend on a massive body count for their cause. They will not be the last. We can only hope that aggressive vetting and better border security and intelligence will stem the flow of those who would do us harm.”

“There will be inconveniences, along with increased surveillance. The pubic must report suspicious activities and individuals. Your safety, the safety of your family and friends and even your survival may depend on it.”

“As a nation we will do what we have always done in the face of danger, adversity or peril. We will stand tall. We will unite and we will rise to the challenge.”

I stepped away from the podium so the President could introduce Attorney General Dunne. I listened very carefully to the speech to find out if he had any new information. There was nothing new from his report.

The President stepped back to the podium, “I have time for a few questions.”

“Yes, Melinda.”

“Melinda Schaffer ZNN; Mr. President, the news desk has 2 questions for me to ask. A Pentagon press release from a year ago stated that Saif Alawai al-Jawfi was killed in a drone attack that it was supposedly confirmed. How did he escape to make it to the US without being intercepted? And the second quested is for Ambassador Jones.”

“That is one of the areas that the task force is going to investigate. I do know that Ambassador Jones met with Air Force Generals this morning. The discussions within those meetings are of course classified.”

“The conformation process has to be looked at and certainly improved. Ambassador Jones spent service time in the region and I am sure she could speak volumes on the difficulties of everything there from her experiences,” the President said.

“Ambassador Jones, you were at MSU when the attack occurred, the public statement you gave there said you were evaluating the latest in security equipment and techniques. Will that equipment be part of the new security standards?”

“Melinda, as you know, not one of the terrorists were able to get into the field house. We will take everything learned from the evaluations there that prevented entry and put it to use,” I said then I added.

“Finding a balance of inconvenience versus cost and benefit is going to be tough. I don’t want to see one more person to die from a terrorist attack. I know that is an impossible goal.”

“The bigger colleges – with billions in endowments, budgets and professional sports – are going to be able to absorb the cost. It is the local high school sports events that are going to have a problem, and they will be targets sooner or later,” I said.

That ended the news conference. The major media had started to disperse. I had noticed Hanna and Sylvester sort of wondering what they were to do next. I gave one of those ear piercing whistles I used in training to get attention and boy, did it! I got everyone’s attention. I waved Hanna and Sylvester to the yellow tape. Most of the other media stopped and headed discretely toward the tape.

I stepped off the marble pad and ducked the yellow tape with the secret service agent after me.

“Hello girlfriend, did you have any trouble getting in?” I asked as I gave her a hug.

“No, but it was an experience,” she replied.

I gave Sylvester the whirling hand sign to start recording. The little red lights on other cameras came on too.

“Are you ready to go back to Africa?”

“If I can get time off to go; yes, any time you are ready,” Hanna replied.

“Hey, can I get in on that and then a lot of me too,” it was Melinda joined by several others.

“It takes 30 vaccinations and 6 weeks for them to work. I can put you in contact with the doc if you like,” I replied.

“You knew for longer than six weeks that you were going and kept it to yourself. You are a sly little devil,” one of the other reporters who knew Hanna replied.

“Ambassador Jones, how long did you sign up to work for the government this time? The first time was 10 years and then 6 weeks in Uganda,” Hanna asked.

“Six month sign up this time, then re-evaluate,” I replied.

“I understand that your service as an employee with KCC ends in a few days as JBG officially takes over the security department there. Are your teams ready to go on that site?”

“Everything is ready to go with the exception of the new equipment that was evaluated at MSU. KCC will be the first JBG site to get it. KCC is close to the main office where our tech people can work out the bugs,” I replied.

“Is the equipment that good that you are going to put it at all JBG sites?” Hanna asked.

“Any equipment is only as good as the operator, but yes, it is that good. There have to be changes in access to the grounds, parking and access into the buildings. Some of those things are going to be complicated and require negotiations,” I replied.

“Are you still going to be in the gym as often as you were? I still need more training. No pain no gain, you said,” Hanna asked.

“How else am I going to keep my girlish figure, especially with this donut fueled cushy government job?” I replied which brought chuckles from the reporters who had stayed to hear our conversation.

The Secret Service agent tapped me on the shoulder, “Boss Ma-am – they told me I should call you Boss – lunch will soon be ready and you have visitors coming at 1300.”

“Duty calls; let’s do this again,” I said before I turned and walked away. I could hear Hanna getting plastered with questions from the other reporters.

My mates were eating lunch with me and then they were going home.

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Chapter 451

Back in the house Jenny asked, “BJ, what the hell is going on?”

“We are targets and have been for some time. I should have realized it after the Morton Field attack. Every time we are successful at thwarting an attack on an embassy or at a college, we move higher on that list and give them growing determination,” I replied.

“The weakest thing we do is walking across that road from the house to the gym several times a day. We are making ourselves easy targets to get gunned down from a car down the road, or run over, or kidnapped. Before we know it, the two boys will be big enough to want to go over there ten times a day, another kidnap risk,” I replied.

“By completing the tunnel we eliminate all of that plus no more bad weather to trek through. We are also running out of office space again; once it is finished, we can look at what can be moved down there. The spooks, the server’s, records storage, entire departments?” I said.

By the time I finished, their heads were nodding approval. The realization of events had sunk in. I didn’t really pressure Bob but I hoped he would pull men off other jobs and make it a real priority for us.

Supper was at the Seafood Inn and I asked for the private room again. In between food servings, we discussed tomorrow and made plans. Dad and Mom were going with the six of us in two SUVs.

The email from the White House contained parking passes and initial IDs to get to the security screening check point. There was valet parking available at the official White House parking lot.

As we were leaving, Elmo Cartwright – reporter and editor of the local county paper – was standing at the reservation desk, “I thought those were your SUVs in the parking lot. Are there any rumors you would like to put an end to tonight?”

“I try not to deal in rumors or comment on them,” I replied.

“You are not going to tell me, confirm or deny what the big media is saying?” he replied.

“You know the rules the dark side has to live by,” I replied.

“What time are you going to Washington?” Elmo asked.

The old bird was trying to be cagey.

“We have a meeting at the Pentagon at 0900; we have finally gotten our foot in the door for contract work with the Air Force. It will mean more work for Morton Field with more international flights to Europe, the Middle East and Africa originating from Morton. It will be a win for the county, JBG Aviation and the Air Force. I expect more hiring will be necessary!” I replied.

“When are you going back to Africa to the refugee camp?” he asked.

“As soon as we get a plane load, it will go. You know, if you put a plug in your paper every week that we are taking financial contributions and clean clothing from toddlers to adult sizes, that may speed things along,” I replied.

“You know you could buy ad space for that,” he replied.

“How about a deal; you run a free ad one week and we will pay for the same size the following week, up to 26 ads in a year,” I replied.

“Who do I see about doing that?’ he asked.

I see the wheels turning, picking up speed in his brain. I would bet the ads would be half or full page, replacing the free filler he got from somewhere.

The local paper was filled with so much filler and fluff that if outhouses were still around, it would have replaced the Sears catalog.

“Try the public relations department under Ching Lee,” I replied.

We made our way out the door before he could ask any more questions.

At 0600 we were on our way across the bridge. This time of day it was rush hour; four lanes running 80 miles an hour, bumper to bumper. The zoo had opened the gates and let out everything crazy they had and they were driving. The key to survival was to run with the traffic. It was 70 miles and we made it in an hour, even with all the turns and stops.

We pulled into the parking lot where the instructions directed and the valets took our vehicles. Then we made the short walk to the entrance that we were scheduled for.

I was expecting reporters to be staking out the entrance but I guess it was too early for them.

An hour early would give us plenty of time to make it through security. I was carrying both my Glock and the knife that I always had with me, and all the IDs I had; my Maryland drivers license, my federal permit to body guard everyone but the president as part of our State Department contracts, my Ambassador’s ID that a few more days left on it, my JBG ID and finally my passport.

My girls and I were all wearing our bullet proof vests. They were now a standard wear item unless we were home or in the gym.

Dad, Mom and the girls had their licenses, passports and JBG IDs; hopefully that would be enough and the girls had their own federal IDs.

We made it through the first security that just checked our papers, bags and my portable office. Both laptops I carried had to be inspected, even removing the batteries and powering them up after the batteries was reinstalled. They checked both my phones – my personal and the state department issued one.

The next check did not go over so well, the metal detectors picked up both the knife and my Glock. The agent who was running the scanner was so shook up, he was shaking.

“We can’t let you carry those in,” he responded.

“How many times have you been shot?” I asked the young man.

“None Ma-am,” he replied.

“Good! Keep it that way; it hurts like hell,” I replied.

“I understand that you have lockers for me to place them in until I leave,” I said.

“Yes Ma-am, right this way, then back through the scanner again,” he replied.

Ten minutes later we were led to the Oval Office to meet the President. After a cordial few minutes of introductions and socializing, the rest of my family left to take a guided tour.

I stayed in the Oval Office in a private meeting with the President. He called in various advisers to answer my questions and I answered theirs. We were both looking for common ground and to see if we could work together.

We discussed my lack of political correctness, my hard nosed attitude towards terrorists and my preference that they have a speedy trip to meet Allah.

“I’m not going to change in that respect, they have killed my employees, tried to kill me and my family. I have felt the sting of their bullets. If that is a problem then I am probably not the right candidate for the job,” I replied.

“That’s the problem. There are too many people that look at this as just a job. They have no personal stake in the outcome; their only interest is to feather their cap and climb the next rung on the ladder in their career. Not one can make a life or death decision on their own, everything has to be by committee. Committees are nothing more than one big delay and to spread out the blame when things go south,” President said and then added.

“The House, the Senate and the Governors all want investigative committees. Not one of those committees will catch this guy or anyone else – for that matter – or make the colleges safer today. I want someone who will bring the go-getters in the agencies together and do something, the hell with the gentleman’s agreements.”

At 0800 an aide interrupted and said the other guests were assembled; he and I walked to a lower level meeting room.

Every person in the room were Director levels or above including the Secretary of State, Frank, Eric, Art Cummins, Marty Coeburn, Ben Smith from NSA, Arnold Harris the director from INS and a dozen more.

The next hour was a shake-down of everything we knew about Saif Alawai al-Jawfi. Everyone had copies of the report I had given Frank.

Eric gave a lengthy report on all the active searches for Saif from Arizona and surrounding states.

At 0900, hot coffee and donuts were brought in and a break was declared.

The aide who brought in the refreshments said “Ambassador Jones, there is an Air Force General waiting for you in conference room 12, if you have a minute. Your executives are already with him.”

“Thank you, I will be back before the break is over,” I replied.

In conference room 12 there was one chair left for me. General Walton had already gone over the contract with Marcy, Lorrie, Jenny, Vicky and Ching Lee. The General gave me a quick overview.

“Are you satisfied with the terms?” I asked the girls, “Any questions or hesitations?”

“When do you want to get your staff together to sign?” I asked the General.

“I will get you a date and time and get the other things in the works. I think this is a good contract for the Air Force and JBG,” he replied.

“I agree with that,” Marcy replied.

Back in the meeting, the scope, size and direction of the committee was established. As chairman I would be assigned two full time secretaries and two process coordinators.

An assistant director from each federal intelligence agency was picked as were several from the justice department. The department of education was to assign 4 members. Those four were to be at this afternoon’s meeting.

The task force was to meet five days a week, to organize and get the processes started. Once it was running to my satisfaction, I could reduce my attendance to four days a week. My term as chairman would expire in six months.

The task force and my teams were assigned all of section 12 in the new underground addition to the White House offices. After today’s news conference I was to meet with the GSA to design the offices for my team. The GSA people would work through the night to set the offices and phone systems up. We had finished all the particulars by 1000 hours.

As the morning had clicked away into the book of history, small gains were being made in the search for Saif.

The President left for other presidential business. His aides and agency personnel began the task of taking all that information in order so I could write my speech and give the latest information based on all the secrecy guide lines. After today, my secretaries and process coordinators could do this.

I finished the speech with plenty of time to spare. One of the President’s secretaries took the speech, “Do you want it put on a teleprompter or bold print in a ring folder?”

“The folder is fine. That is all I have ever used,” I replied.

I was sure the President was going to look over the speech, politics being what they are.

With 10 minutes to go I walked to the east lawn side and looked out the window at the big thong of reporters.

“Damn; walking into the fire with gasoline may have been an understatement,” I thought.

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Chapter 450

“Jones; Good afternoon General Walton, how are things at the Pentagon today?”

“Things are as usual, too many assignments, not enough soldiers, not enough equipment, not enough money, same as yesterday and same as tomorrow, I’m sure,” he replied.

“Today I can’t really offer a lot of help with all of that; how can I help you?” I replied.

“We were impressed with the reports from Major Culpepper and have put together a proposal for you to look at. The change in flight plans in Africa to meet our needs satisfied any doubters that your teams would go the extra mile for our mission requirements.”

“If you are coming to Washington area in the next few days, we will go over it and then you can have your corporate attorneys look it over,” he said.

“I have a meeting at the White House at 0800; if you think it is only going to take a few minutes to go over, I can be at your Pentagon office at 0700,” I replied.

“I have meeting at the White House at 0900 with the intelligence committee; I will bring it with me and we can grab a side office for a minute to go over it,” the general replied.

I looked up to see Frank and Eric laughing, looking at Frank’s phone. “Are you going to let me in on that joke?” I asked.

Frank handed me his smarter than smart phone, it was way bigger than the one I had. Men always seemed to be obsessed with anything that was bigger. Government must think the more important you are the bigger phone you need; he had sent the wimpy triplets a text, “I hear after tomorrow you are going to have call BJ, Boss Ma-am.”

“Oh no; it can’t be true! Where did you hear that from? Your sources please,” Smith had replied

My phone rang again; it was Marcy, “Turn on ZNN news NOW.” The G5 had satellite access; it was a matter of turning the receiver on auto, giving it a moment to lock on and the channel coming live on the flat screen.

The anchor was discussing the Arizona terror attack with their paid mouth pieces with a red banner running across the screen ‘White House report next; Breaking News’.

“And now White House reporter Melinda Schaffer,” the anchor said.

“An anonymous White House source has said the President has ordered an emergency Presidential task force be formed to combat the terrorist attacks against US colleges.”

“The task force is to bring the best terrorism experts from all government and non government agencies to bear. The source is also reporting that the White House was presented evidence today that a serial terrorist leader – thought to be dead – from the Middle East is in the US and behind the Minneapolis and Arizona attacks.”

“Melinda, have there been any names for the task force floating from your sources?” the anchor asked.

“No specific names about the make up or the members of the task force but those sources said the likely chairperson was former US Ambassador Jones. There has been a steady parade of officials coming and going all afternoon from the White House.”

“There has been no sign of Ambassador Jones and that name was only mentioned once along with several others. She has no real Washington experience and the opinion is that removes her from such a high level position. The pizza trucks just unloaded dozens of pizzas; traditionally that is a sign of things to come and a very long night.”

“Jesse, I was just handed a press release from the Presidents spokesperson; there will be a news conference and announcement at 11 AM on the East lawn. There you have it; Melinda Schaffer at the White House.”

“Melinda, I was just told that Ambassador Jones was in Minneapolis today testifying in the MSU attack and that investigation was called off after lunch after a series of communications with Washington. Her private jet is headed east as we speak. Reporters at Minnesota International Airport report that passengers on that jet include the directors of the CIA and Department of Homeland Security and former Federal Judge Curtis Warren.”

“They use anonymous sources as a sounding board for public opinion on various things including people. They will watch all the search engine hits as a gauge to how well their proposals go,” Frank replied.

We were in the landing sequence for Morton. It was going to be tight but I would be on time to meet Bob, but first I needed to see Lorrie.

Ching Lee and I met Lorrie in her office and had a quick discussion about our meeting with the General about the C5 tomorrow and that I would fill everyone in at supper about the events of tomorrow, as best as I knew them.

When Ching Lee and I turned into Summers Road, “What the heck is going on?” In our front yard there was a crane. Our front yard went from the four car garage at the end of the house to the hedge row and chain link fence next to the old railroad right-a-way that used to have the siding to what is now our gym and headquarters. Old man Summers received and stored paper rolls for his printing company.

In our front yard – not far from the chain link fence – was a concrete 8 by 8 structure that was 3 feet out of the ground with a solid concrete top on it. The crane boom was over that structure and hooked to it by cables and chains

I met Bob by his fancy diesel work truck. He rolled out a set of dingy dirty old blueprints.

“These blueprints were behind the fake panel that Ching Lee thought was insulation falling down. Behind that panel was an electrical box and a control box,” he said.

“I’m sure you remember when we lifted that huge concrete pad, there was that room with empty crates and hardware and you said to set the pad back in place and forget it,” he said.

“I did not think that the room had any value for us, versus losing the gym floor space,” I replied.

These blueprints indicate that the building has a 10 foot high basement as big as the floor plan of the building. That room was built to conceal the sizeable basement. There is a note on the print that the doorway out of that room was blocked up in 1934, four years after the building was built,” he said.

“I don’t believe there is any basement of that size and if there is, it has to be full of water and mold after 87 years with no pumps and vents,” I replied.

“I’m not finished; that room, by the way was dry if you remember, and there is forced venting. Those spinning vents on the roof that we thought were to pull heat out of the insulated ceiling actually vent the basement. The blueprints indicate that there is an 8 by 8 tunnel from the basement to this concrete box.” Bob replied.

“I thought that box was part of the counties sewer or drainage system to the bay,” I replied.

“Not according to the prints. We lifted the lid earlier; there is a big steel door facing the gym with locks and padlocks. If we don’t find any keys there, I have the stuff to cut it open. Do you want to go ahead and look or just forget it?”

“Go ahead – you have my curiosity up a little,” I replied.

With the lid off and to the side, Bob’s men threw the big hose of a manhole confined space air mover in and checked the air quality to see when it was safe to enter. To one side was a steel stairs. At one time this had a floor and a building above it with an access door for someone to get in and out of the tunnel.

When the air was clear, Bob’s men went down the stairs with lights to search for keys to the locks.

“We found the keys, one lock won’t open but the others did,” they replied.

“Cut it off,” Bob replied.

“OK, it’s off, but we need the pry bars to open the doors.”

After grunting and groaning and squeaking, “OK, it’s open.”

“What do you see?” Bob asked.

“A big tunnel,” one of the men replied.

“Move the hose into the tunnel, and then come up. In a bit, we will recheck the air quality,” Bob said.

“We need all the lights, there are lights in the tunnel but it is spool and tube with bare wire. We don’t want to touch any of it,” the foreman replied. “The tunnel is dry,” he added.

Half an hour later with air meters in hand, spot lights and a couple people with brooms to knock down the cobwebs, we made our way into the basement.

A basement it was, the blueprints did not lie. It was a full basement – 85 feet wide and 150 feet long – there was a 10 foot wide isle from the tunnel all the way to the block room where the access pad was to the gym floor. To the left and right of the ally were 15 foot wide 30 foot deep storage rooms. The walls of the rooms were 2 feet thick concrete from the floor to the ceiling to support the 12 inch thick floor above.

The very first room had several steel wheeled carts for moving products around the basement storage area. Some areas were empty and other still had crates in them.

In one room we knocked open a crate. It was full of pre-probation Jack Daniels liquor with Kentucky tax seals on the bottles and there were other brands that had been taxed from Virginia, Maryland, and the Carolinas.

Other rooms had other brands and there were at least 10 rooms that were definitely moonshine in gallon jugs with cork stoppers.

“Well, I guess we can put the gossip that Charlie Summers was big in black market liquor business as fact. The moonshine came in the rail cars hidden by the paper for his printing business from the south and west. The legitimate booze came in by truck or rail car to cover for the moonshine. When the finished paper products were shipped from the printing plant, the booze order went with it,” I said.

“My granddad worked for Charlie in the printing side as a salesman. He and Charlie were always away in New York, Boston, Buffalo, Harrisburg and Rhode Island. Granddad always thought something was fishy with Charlie’s business when he was away; he would disappear for hours,” Bob said.

“Charlie was often having dinner with the Kennedys, Rockefellers, and other big names in New York.”

“Bootleg connections I would bet, the Feds were not going to knock on their doors looking for bootleg,” I replied.

“I wonder if it is all bootleg. Charlie easily could have been printing labels and the tax seals. If we find any empty bottles that will answer that question.”

Sure enough, one of the storage areas was cases of empty bottles and on a cart in that room, was rolls of tax labels from different states.

“Let me get the girls and Jason down here for more opinions, but I say destroy all of it, those labels from all those states were the destinations for the shine,” I said.

After the girls were given the tour, they agreed with me – destroy it. We just did not need the headache or the attention that this would cause. We walked outside.

“Bob, here is what I want done. Clean it out; destroy all the booze. Thoroughly clean the interior and then epoxy paint the thing white to brighten it up. Then epoxy paint the floor; they make some good epoxy floor paints – used on the floors of shops – blue-gray or something like that. Assume we are going to make it office space. I would like to use the new Mitsubishi room heating and cooling units but I don’t think there will be enough fresh air circulation. You may have to go with duct work and get fresh air from one of the roof vents. Your engineers can have the final say on that.”

“Since we are not stacking tons of paper upstairs can two walls be removed leaving five feet at the end for support? I want a video conference command center if I can get it. Removing two walls leaving five feet of each for support would give me a room 50 feet by 25,” I said then added.

“I want to put the biggest plasma screen I can get and a lot of smaller ones on the front wall on both sides. Out EIT department can take care of that. Then four rows of theater seats in a half circle with each row rising 8 inches.. Block up the center opening and part of the other two. Then put double business entrance doors to each of the sides,” I said.

I hand drew a quick sketch, “something like this,” I replied.

“I will get the engineers to check all that out and let you know,” Bob replied.

“Have the utility company put a transformer out by the concrete box and bring the power in by a pipe attached the tunnel ceiling or wall. Do the same with fresh water and sewage unless you think you can drill holes in the laundry room floor for that? There needs to be several bathrooms down here.”

“Install plenty of lights. Use the new LED lights, put in plenty of outlets and put lights in the tunnel. Set the lights in the tunnel and alleyway to be on 24/7. Put the switches for each bay on the end of the concrete dividers,” I said and then added, “Lets get out of here and I will explain what I want out there.”

Out side of the box, “I want a tunnel just like that one we just came out of on this side of the box over to the garage. I don’t want any dirt piled in the yard; haul it over to the lot by the Horsey house. Dig it; get the concrete guys and do it in just as little time as possible. By the garage, make a box big enough for an emergency stairs and the elevator,” I said.

“Take the elevator out of the gym and move it over to the garage and put it in the box. When we got that one, it was the smallest of the three of that design. In the office cut a hole in the floor and install the biggest of the three that will do the three levels. I want it big enough to move office equipment down there with the elevator if we decide to. I want the work done on the gym floor and the new elevator after hours,” I said.

“This concrete box needs to have a built up room with a hand rail around the stairs so it will be an emergency exit from the basement. I do not want any exterior handles or locks on the outside of the door. I only want it to be opened from the inside and put in some old fashioned barn door brackets that a 4×4 can be dropped in for redundancy,” I said.

“How soon can you get started? Better yet, how soon can you be finished?” I asked.

“Wow, that is some kind of rush,” Bob replied.

“Bob, you have no idea to the scope of the problem. Some of it will become apparent tomorrow. Pay bonuses if you have to, to get your contractors to move the job to the front,” I replied.

“Leave the crane here. I want this hole closed off every time there is no-one here and no visitors go down there for anything – not even county inspectors – and make sure all your people know that. If I have to, I will assign armed guards. No permits. Strictly off the record.”

“Bob, I don’t care how many people you use, just get it done as soon possible; work around the clock. Jenny will write up a confidentially statement for all the people that go in the basement. One of those that threaten life in jail or death clauses,” I said.

“Bob, while you are at it, please research the names on those blueprints. There is still something odd with this basement. I want to know what, who and how they built that thing to stay dry and all this in late twenties. Make sure all that booze gets destroyed. I saw what happens to people who drink bad booze in Japan and Korea. Who knows the quality of the stills this came from and after all these years, what bugs have grown in it?”

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Chapter 449

“Now what,” I thought.

“Yes this is Roberta Jones. Yes, I will hold.”

“Good morning Mr. President, how are you today?” I asked.

“I’m good but let me get right to the point of the call Ambassador. I know you have been in Africa the last week but I am equally sure that you have stayed up with the news of the suicide attack in Arizona State University.”

“Minneapolis and Arizona State University in less than three weeks and now it looks like we may have a serial terrorist from the Mideast targeting our colleges. All this calls for emergency actions. One thing that I am doing is forming a Presidential task force to bring members of all intelligence groups together with a new focus and with new ideas on domestic terrorism. The intelligence groups are and have been stretched to the limit; we need a new approach with these college attacks,” the President said and then continued.

“We started looking for the most experienced people we could find. Your name was submitted by several of the intelligence agencies. You and your business group have been involved with more terrorist attacks domestic and foreign than anyone. On top of that you are already involved with multiple federal intelligence agencies and come highly recommended,” he said.

“I want you to be chairperson of that task force. Crack the whip; get everyone going in the right direction. You will have discretion to go wherever we need to go to catch Saif,” he said.

“You have to know I am not politically correct and what you are asking will be a political football!”

“They told me you would say that, but the job has to get done. What has been done in the past is not working. My people told me you have no problem kicking ass and giving the tough orders to get things done,” he replied.

“There will be some bruised toes when they get stepped on. On top of that, I have numerous contracts with other federal agencies; will this create a problem?” I replied.

“No, those contracts will not be affected. Can you be here tomorrow morning at 8 AM to set up the structure, and choose other task force members who you will work with? We will make the announcement at an 11 AM press conference on the lawn. That will give you time to write a speech. Come to the front entrance; they will expect you,” he replied.

“I will be there and we will have a serious discussion,” I replied then I asked about bringing guests for the announcement.

“Your family – of course, they can take the private White House tour while we meet,” the President replied.

I handed the phone back to Eric, “Walking into the fire with a bucket of gasoline in each hand,” I said.

“Congratulations,” Eric said.

“I’d rather you promise to give the eulogy at my funeral,” I replied with a laugh.

I wrote on a sheet of paper.

To all JBG college security sites: Red Alert is now in effect!!!!

Saif Alawai al-Jawfi is a serial terrorist responsible for explosive devices used at Minneapolis and possibly Arizona State University. Pay close scrutiny to all visitors; consider him and anyone with him to be armed, dangerous and suicidal.

Expect immediate changes to all security procedures and additional equipment will be installed as soon as it can be acquired. Be doubly vigilant. Please take no chances that allow him or anyone with him access.

Please place the photo out of sight of the public and have all employees review it daily, be vigilant.

I expect all JBG sites to be high on his target list.

‘This is no drill.’

I handed the note to Ching Lee, “Type it up and sign it; send it to all fourteen sites – also Cindy – with Saif’s picture and bring me a copy please.”

I wrote another one to Marcy to send to all MAAR sites.

‘Saif Alawai al-Jawfi is a serial terrorist responsible for the explosive devices used at Minneapolis and possibly Arizona State University. We think he has now gone mobile plying his trade. Pay close scrutiny to all visitors and customers; consider him and anyone with him to be armed, dangerous and suicidal. Notify DHS and the FBI immediately if he is seen.

Please place the photo out of sight of the public and have all employees review it daily, be vigilant.

“Send this to Marcy for me please,” I instructed Ching Lee.

Then I sent a text to the girls and my administrators, “I have to be at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave at 0800 tomorrow.”

The next thing I did was call Bradberry at East Coast Security, “Get me a price and availability on 30 thermal scanners and facial recognition systems ASAP.”

While I was doing all this Eric, Frank and Kent had been on their phones and there had been several conversations with the other investigators. They were also listening intently to my conversations.

The questions went on for another hour. Then it was Ching Lee and Andy’s turn, and then we broke for a late lunch. We had lunch delivered so we could continue the discussion.

I took a break and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. I walked to the back lot where the two SUVs had blown up. The caution tape still surrounded the area. The holes blown in the pavement clearly indicated the exact spot.

I guess they were going to wait until the investigations were over to patch the blacktop and return things to normal. The end of the field house had been repaired and repainted.

I called Ben-David, “Thank you for the analysis of the vests. Some of the information will be made public today. All indicators are that Arizona was his work and we suspect much more is planned,” I said.

“After Arizona I knew you would have no choice. The situation deteriorates daily for the US, it seems. On another item my people used the chopper last night and are pleased with its performance. I have been informed that we will keep track of the hours so you can be appropriately compensated,” Ben said.

“After the items we brought back, I owe you a lot more than a little flight time. Thank you,” I replied.

“Shalom my friend,” I said.

“Shalom,” he replied.

I was on my way back to the lunch room when I received a call from Bob’s Construction.

“While you were in Africa, Ching Lee called us about some loose insulation on the south end of the building. It wasn’t loose insulation but a covering for a hidden panel and controls.”

“There were several blueprint containers that I brought back to the shop to investigate. Today I did more investigation. I want you to look at what I have found and give your approval before going further. I did not tell the others what I had found,” Bob said.

“I will be back at 1600, if that will work for you? Tomorrow I will be in Washington most of the day,” I replied.

“OK, I will leave the equipment in place then so you look and I will get the rest of the tools I need,” he replied.

“Eric, can I get press credentials for Hanna Paige and her camera man to cover the press conference?” I asked him.

“I will make the call; it should not be a problem,” he replied.

I sent Hanna a text, “You will have press credentials for a news conference on the White House lawn at 11. Be there in time to go through security.

We were ready to start the next round of questions with Andy’s team leaders when Kent’s rang one more time.

Kent stepped out of the room to take the call and when he came back, he explained, “The governor has instructed me to end the investigation as quickly as possible. I agree with that opinion; the investigative team and I do not believe any further testimony will change the outcome or the final report.”

“The additional information supplied today only shows the severity of terrorism to come and the challenges we face.”

“The report will be completed and made public in ten days. Ambassador Jones, I will see to it that you get a finalized copy before it is released, for your review.”

“I will be looking forward to seeing that report. Thank you for the advanced copy,” I replied.

10 minutes later we were headed to the airport. This time we had as passengers Frank, Eric and Curtis Warren, flying back to the shore with us. Frank and Eric had been dropped off by an Air Force passenger jet that had continued on.

It was for them to wait several hours on the Air Force connection or a commercial flight; they elected to fly to the shore with us. Curtis had flown commercial.

As soon as we were airborne I keyed up my email on the plasma; I wanted to see what the college reaction was to the warning letters. All the colleges wanted to know if the letter meant that overtime was approved. I noted that Ching Lee had answered to the affirmative while I was still answering questions.

Then I went to VCATS to see if there was anything new on the embassy side. The only flag on the system was at the Windhoek, Namibia embassy. They thought they were under surveillance and included were several pictures and stills from the security cameras.

I sent a note to Vicky asking her how she was going to handle this development. After tomorrow, she would likely be running the embassy show without me for a while. I wanted to see how aggressive she was going to be. I closed down the system and turned the swivel seat to join in the talk behind me, only instead to answer my phone.

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Chapter 448

I was reading one page after another; Ching Lee was doing the same thing on her computer. I was just finishing up when the wheels hit the runway at Minneapolis – St Paul International Airport.

The one thing I gleaned from all that reading was that there was a standard question set they were asking all my men. I was sure those questions had been tailored with the assistance of Curtis Warren and others. I wondered if they would use the same questions for us.

Marcy had the local MAAR send 3 SUVs to the general aviation terminal for us. As traffic was light, we were close to an hour early.

Another thing Curtis had done was to have interrogations held in the big security meeting room at the college; for convenience close proximity to the tragedy. It was also for field review if necessary; all making sense.

Frank, Eric and Kent Dalton were already there. I stuck my head into big meeting room to say, “Morning,” while the rest of my group hit the table of donuts and coffee. Ching Lee, Andy and I went into the smaller meeting room; I wanted to review the two top secret packages. I brought coffee and one donut.

I opened the first package and slid out its contents and a super duty magnifying glass. There was also a handwritten note from Robert, “I was not sure what you were looking for, so I broke it down by every frame, 4 pictures to a second.”

I looked through one picture at a time with the magnifying glass. Ching was almost sitting in my lap looking at the pictures with me. I handed each one to Andy as I was done.

I saw it or I thought I saw it. It was just a shadow but it moved further across each picture. Then there was a ripple in the skin of her forehead that turned into a bump. The next picture was the start of the stumble and the beginning of the explosion.

There was a knock on the door; Eric, Frank, and Len were there, “We are almost ready to start.”

“I’m not ready yet; they will wait. Take a seat,” I said as I pointed to a chair.

In the next picture the burka had started to expand like a gust of wind was under it; there signs of exit material from the back of head and the head scarf was coming off.

The next was of the body disintegrating, pieces going everywhere. I didn’t need to see any more, my question was answered. Someone on the roof put a round in her head to stop her from getting to the building.

“Did you see what I see?” I asked Andy.

“Yeah, I think so, now what?” he asked.

“I know, you know and we don’t know who, so that is the end of it,” I replied.

I looked at Eric, “Do you want a look?” I asked. I was sure they had done the same thing to the video, or should have done.

“Sure,” he replied as I handed the packet over but kept the magnifying glass; make them ask for it, I thought.

They all looked through them and handed them back, “I don’t know what you are seeing, they look OK to me,” Eric replied.

I open the next top secret package; it was from Ben-David. The top sheet was typed.

“I know this is not what you want to hear; it is not good, you have been misled again,” the sheet read.

After Andy and Ching Lee read it I slid it over to Eric and did the same with the following sheets as we looked at them.

There was a news paper clipping from AP with a release from the Defense Department dated almost a year ago.

“Saif Alawai al-Jawfi, senior bomb maker, explosive expert and trainer was killed in a drone strike in western Iraq today. Iraq sources on the ground confirmed the death. Saif Alawai al-Jawfi was one of the most feared IED and suicide vest makers in all Iraq with his products killing and maiming thousands.”

The next sheet was a color picture of Saif.

The next dozen pictures were comparison pictures with the individual pictures Ching Lee had taken of the vest on the two I had disabled, with notes on them and things circled.

Note; the following comparisons are from a dozen captured suicide vests made by Saif Alawai al-Jawfi over a year’s time-frame at different locations in Iraq.

(1) All wiring is done with different colors, coded by its purpose – a systematic design, a strict procedure Saif followed that eliminated errors that kill most vest and bomb makers sooner or later.
(2) Notice the twisted wire loop at the top of each pipe.
(3) Notice that the wiring is tied with string every 25 millimeters with three loops and a millers knot.
(4) Note that the wires at the phone were soldered with gold.
(5) Note the phone is secured in exactly the same manner on all 14 vests.
(6) Note the relays are Bosch.
(7) Note all the pipe caps were drilled and pinned.
(8) Note how the pipes were attached to the belt.
(9) Note the wires to the battery were soldered with gold.
(10) There are all traits that confirm these vests are made by Saif.

The next pictures were of Saif from one of the City’s traffic cams; the first one was of him standing boldly on the corner of the street by the east entrance to the college. There was smoke rising from the rear parking lot.

The street sign over his head left no doubt about the location and the date and time stamp said it all.

The next pictures were of him calmly walking to a car with no plates and leaving.

By now Eric, Frank and Len were agitated.

Kent knocked on the door, “WE ARE WAITING ON YOU.”

“GET IN HERE AND SIT DOWN!” Eric responded, and started passing one sheet at a time to him.

Curtis Warren stepped to the door, “Do I need to be here as a mediator?”

“Might be a good idea before it really gets to be a heated discussion,” I replied.

“I guess Saif has put his skills on the road; that explains Arizona,” I replied.

“That son of a bitch was here!” Eric exclaimed.

“BJ, where did you get this?” Frank asked.

“Frank, they are pictures of the two vests on the two ladies Ching Lee and I disabled. You have possession of the vest. Did you have them analyzed by international experts?” I responded.

“The silence and expressions tell me no,” I replied.

“Kent, did you look at all the traffic cameras you have on the highways and streets around the college on that day?” I asked.

“The silence again tells me no,” I replied.

“I know a girl has to keep some secrets. But damn it, you keep doing this to us,” Frank replied.

“I haven’t done anything to you. I have carried out ‘MY’ investigation as far as conceivably possible with every tool and means at my disposal. You have ten times the means I have, why haven’t you used them?” I replied.

“I have to fax this to Washington; Art and NSA need to see this right away. Somebody has some explaining to do,” he replied as he stood.

“Frank I need it back,” I replied.

“I know, I know,” he replied.

“You do know the Wimpy triplets are going to be screaming for your scalp again BJ.”

“I can handle them with no problem,” I said.

“That is what I am afraid of,” Frank replied.

Fifteen minutes later I started answering questions in-between all the phone calls they were getting.

“What did you know before the attack happened?”

“The only thing I know for sure is that at 12:45 Diya drove into the west entrance and let out two persons that the scanners indicated they were wearing explosive vests,” I replied.

“That is not the answer I’m looking for,” Kent replied.

“That is the only answer you are going to get. I like to deal in facts, not rumor, speculation and the like,” I relied.

Frank’s phone rang a different ring than before “It’s Art returning my call, I guess he has looked the file over,” he said as he stepped out.

Kent and the other prosecutor had finally accepted there were going to be interruptions today.

Then it was Eric’s phone that rang, “Blocked number; Hello, yes this is Eric. Yes, that is correct.”

Eric handed the phone in my direction, “It’s for you; it’s the White House.”

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