Bjjonesmylife. Book 2

When I stopped by Morton on my way to KCC, the G5 that had been in Minneapolis last night was parked on the tarmac in front of the terminal. Today’s pilot was performing the walk around and pre-flight inspection as it was being refueled.

The rest of Andy’s men were in the restaurant finishing breakfast with their gear stacked on a cart. I had stopped by to check the logs to see what time the G5 landed.

I was glad to see that it had landed 2 AM; that meant that Andy had done everything that I had told him to do without problems. That was confirmed when I received a text from Frank that his men had taken possession of Randolph at and all the materials at 2. He added, “THANK YOU.”

I had just opened the door to my Suburban when I changed my mind; instead of getting in I grabbed my portable office and go bag. I was going to Minneapolis to pow-wow with Andy and to make sure that Eric’s Midwest counterpart did not try to dump a load of bullshit on Andy.

I began the necessary calls because of the changes in plans; Patti to tell her she was in charge today and then Ching Lee. I wanted to know if Ching Lee wanted to join me and possibly bring a couple of her administrators along for a field trip.

I held the flight until Ching Lee, Penny Werner and Alexandria Williams – who were two of her administrators – arrived. Ching Lee had her go bag and a computer case with her and she was berating the two for procrastinating on putting a go bag together to keep at the office.

A go bag was a simple thing to put together, two or three pairs of panties, bras, socks, a sweatshirt and sweat pants, a couple tops and – in mine – a pair of cargo pants for all the pockets, jeans, good slacks and a top with a jacket.

The flight had barely gotten off the ground before I was on the State departments video system. I had only intended to chat with Ambassador Bernardi for a general update on the Nimule refugee camp.

When the control panel lit up that I was on the system, I was paged for chats for the entire flight. All of them were from Africa where we were in the process of finishing up the chopper deliveries and embassy upgrades.

The SUVs met us at the airport and carried us to the security office. Andy was in the meeting room at the security office doing his thing. I knew what his thing was; I had been through it so many times with him by now.

On the first day he took all we knew and put it on paper; then had a complete tour of the site. Andy liked to do two checks on something like this; one was a drive-around to see the object as someone driving a car would see it. Then he would do a complete walk around tour of the site.

Once all that was done, he merged all three together, then each day there were adjustments on any new information.

I asked the duty desk who was in the meeting with Andy “The team leaders with Sherman and his assistants. Do want me to notify them you are here?”

“No, we will wait,” I replied.

Ching Lee, Penny, and Alexandria each took a cubicle and began working on their computers while I worked on my smarter than smart phone. I sent a text to Robert to ask if there were any updates on any activity for today; if so, to email them to me as I was in Minneapolis.

There were three pages with sections of things highlighted that Robert thought was important enough that it was stamped with the top secret stamp.

After I read them I knocked on the door and walked in, “Good morning men how are all of you today?”

I walked to Andy; he was seated at the end of the table, “Here is today’s intel report.”

Ching Lee – with Penny and Alexandria – had followed me in with coffee and a plate of donuts, “Does anybody need a refill?”

After a few minutes of general talk, “We have some work to do so back at it boys,” I said as waved the girls out then closed the door behind me.

I went back to working on embassy problems that would be over in 20 days, and yet were just beginning. I spent the time on VCATS mending fences and answering questions that had been forwarded to me by Vicky and Cindy. A lot of the issues centered on expanded security requests.

There were 9 South American embassies with the smaller JBG teams. These were teams of 6 men or less. They were not covered in the African and Asia security expansion and were slowly becoming concerned about events happening near them.

South America was not yet a hot spot for terrorism; the most immediate problem was kidnapping for big money payouts. The terrorism potential was growing daily.

South America was being seen as a gateway for refugees from the Middle East and Africa as a railroad into America through Central America. Those counties wanted nothing to do with the refuges, period.

If they arrested them they had to feed and house them until a decision was made on where to ship them and who was going to pay for it. The convenient thing for them was assist them on their route as fast as possible.

The terrorist problem was being dumped on them by the UN and the US trying to force them to accept a considerable number of refugees from the war torn Middle East as permanent residents; of course there was always the promise of UN aid packages loans and other goodies.

Many of these quickly became disillusioned because they were expected to become working citizens of the host country, when they actually expected a lifetime of free food, housing and whatever else they wanted.

Europe was quickly finding this out the hard way; gang violence, rape, murder. Thousands of refugees were simply walking away from the refugee centers, not waiting on the governments to find suitable places for them. There were even riots demanding more free services.

I had messages from ambassadors at six embassies that did not have JBG security. That wanted me to contact them ASAP to discuss security. The first I called was Paraguay and I was put straight through to Ambassador Jodi Stevens. The Ambassador wasted no time beating around the bush.

“How do I get JBG Security at my embassy? The cartels are getting braver; just last week there was an attempt to kidnap the Brazilian Ambassador’s family,” he asked.

“The process I’m sure you know; you have to start with Victor Edmonson and Amy Lockerman. I think the form to request security changes is SD 44099b/2013, which was the updated one after the Morocco incident.”

“When a request is approved, that is one of the forms I get that is accompanied by an approval letter and budget authorizations,” I replied.

“I called and talked to my section chief, he did not say anything about official forms. Hey, you were right – I found it along with several others that are older along with instructions,” he replied.

“Fill it out and send me a copy when you sent it through. I see Victor several times a week; I will follow up a few days later. What made you think to call me?” I asked.

“I called Ambassador Bernardi; I knew he would have some thoughts after what took place there. He says you are the best at what you do and that you have resources of your own that may help. He couldn’t stop talking about the things you did there,” he replied. Then he added. “I’m not the only one concerned; JBG comes up often in our conversations. I will send the others the form numbers. Thanks for the info.”

That answered the question as to why there were six where I had no people on my call list. I finished the list making sure I spoke to each ambassador. I did not want anyone to say I did not return calls.

I was as helpful as I could be but it was not going to make any difference. The senate had put a cap on the number of people the State Department could sub-contract from JBG and we were at that limit now.

Unless someone was kidnapped, killed or seriously injured in an attempt, I doubted they would get any more security.

I was through the list, getting ready to start on the next project when several men came in. I could tell before they even opened their mouths they were from the local DHS office.

They had watched too many cop shows; long overcoats – it was 70 degrees out – and a cocky attitude that came in the door almost before they did.

“I’m DHS special agent Otto Kline; I’m looking for Sherman Rommel or Andy Reddick.”

Larry Forester was working the security desk. I remembered him from training; when he made a decision it took overwhelming facts to change it.

“They are in a staff meeting; they should be out in a few minutes,” he replied.

“I don’t care what kind of meeting they are in, I want to see them now.”

“I will send them a text that they have visitors,” Larry replied.

“I’m not waiting on any text; I will just interrupt the meeting,” he replied as they started for the door.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof Read by Bob W.

Frank was to arrive an hour later; in that hour Eric and I had a long private talk. I learned a lot of information about the interworking of the CIA, FBI and DHS and the areas where they had gentleman’s hands off agreements.

There was also a gentleman’s agreement not to show up another agency between all three federal agencies – the FBI, CIA and DHS – but to always portray the image of full cooperation and joint operations.

This was a position mandated by the current administration for public consumption. The result reduced effort and low moral out of the agencies; why try harder if someone else was going to get equal credit and had done nothing.

In a lull in the conversation before Frank arrived I had a thought. Mosad knew a lot about the Minneapolis; was Randolph Reichmann a triple agent?

Ben David had left me a number in case I had questions or problems, so I dialed it.

I recognized his voice when he answered with, “Shalom.”

“Shalom my friend, this is Ambassador Jones; how are things in the world of Mosad today?” I asked.

Eric’s eye went as big as saucers.

“You know the Arab world quite well; there is no good news,” he replied then he added.

“Our friend in Africa was quite impressed with your generosity; I talked with him today. He wanted me to tell you that he has spread some of the tidings around as you suggested. He and his friends are looking forward to your visit and building on the mutual trust and relationship.” That was more of the coded diplomatic speak that I had finally learned to understand.

“Yes, I too am looking forward to my visit and working at expanding our mutual trust and relationship. My visit is going to be in 3 weeks; if he needs me to bring anything, he just needs to ask as I have plenty of room on the plane we will be flying over in,” I replied.

“I have a question that I need to ask and I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but things are in a critical state in one of our security sites and you may be able to give me some information on it.”

“Is Randolph Reichmann, also known as Klaus Richter or Heinrich Braun, a cover for one of your agents?”

“The name is not familiar; my assistant will check so we can continue out conversation,” That told me that he had me on speaker phone.

“Our friend said you had a nice hangar at Entebbe and that you may be willing to allow us to use it from time to time,” he said.

“Yes, we had that discussion and I advised where he could get a key anytime he needed one. I will see to it that he gets one if it will be beneficial. JBG currently has it leased for a year. The choppers we stored there should be dispersed by the end of the week,” I replied then I added.

“We are taking a lot of food for the refugee camp; way too much to deliver to the camp at one time! I am afraid it would invite rebels to attack the camp. I plan to store the excess there. My people will make a delivery every couple weeks to the camp – at least that is what I plan.”

“There had been some thought of leaving one of our spare Blackhawks there; it is a central location and could be used from time to time as a maintenance location if we need it,” I replied.

I was fishing with a big hook and opening a door. We did have spare Blackhawks; I had bought 45 and only needed 40. His response either now or later would help me understand the scope of Israeli operations in the area.

Would Marcy lease them a chopper? I didn’t even have to ask to know the answer to that one.

“Would it have diplomatic decals or JBG?”

“Whatever it needs at the time; they are easily changed,” I replied.

“Randolph Reichmann is not one of us; he is bad. If you get him in your sights, pull the trigger on him,” Ben replied. Then he added, “I shall pay you a visit and discuss the hangar in more detail.”

“Shalom my friend,” he said.

“Shalom my friend,” I replied.

“Mosad, trust and relationship, generosity, spreading the tidings, use of your hangar, a Blackhawk; I thought you said you were not a diplomat and all that sounds like an international diplomat with growing ties and influence,” Eric replied then he added. “You are starting to worry me.”

“Nothing to worry about; he and I both want the same thing,” I replied.

“And what is that?”

“Every terrorist that comes our way: dead,” I replied.

“Have you made the connection that the group in Rochester and Minneapolis are connected?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Dagar and Aadam were in 515 together, I do not believe in coincidences. There is a prior connection, part of a plan,” I replied.

Frank walked in to end the conversation for now.

“What is so important to cancel our other meeting? The wimpy triplets are furious,” he said.

I pointed him to the chair besides Eric and slid the picture of Randolph Reichmann to him.

“That’s one of my men; what’s the problem?”

Then the report from Genie; next was the Interpol report followed by the fingerprint and DNA Sherman had collected.

He looked at Eric and then me, “Crap; no, worse than that. It’s dog shit and it’s going to get on everybody. What led you to this?”

I slid his JBG computer logs over next; Robert had highlighted the times and dates of the transmissions and a copy of the attachment as it was sent. Then there was a sheet with the deciphered attachment.

“Oh no – Russia or Iran – I’m going to have to send a team to Minneapolis! It is really going to disrupt things there and that’s just the beginning. Headquarters does all the hiring; that has to be researched as to how he got through the system,” he said.

“It gets worse,” Eric replied.

“Just what else can happen to make it worse?” Frank replied.

I slid the first papers on Diya’s plans over to him. When he finished reading, I slid the next until he had read all of them.

When he finished reading he asked Eric, “Are you moving assets to Minneapolis yet?”

“I already have assets in the area; the special ops team is already there and so are 15 of the RRT. The rest are flying there tomorrow morning. And then there are the one hundred college security employees that can be repositioned as I need them,” I replied, and then I added.

“I am moving personnel in slowly. I don’t want them to get spooked and change their plans. Andy rented a big house across the street from the college as command center and a bunk house,” I said.

“Don’t you think they should be caught before they get to the college?” Frank asked. It was a question I had expected to come from Eric.

“First the information only names Diya; nothing on any of his accomplices and there is nothing in his phone to connect anyone to him. There is not enough time to get sufficient surveillance close to him without tipping him off. His father is mayor; his cousin is chief of police; they will ask and will be told what is going on,” I replied.

“If you tip him off they will go underground and just wait. The only choice we will be left with is to maintain level (Red) security for who knows how long. The longer you do that the more you give away of your security process; they are watching. You also increase the risk of lone wolf attacks 10-fold,” I said.

“If you did catch them you are going to charge them with possession of explosives and plotting a terrorist attack. They will get twenty years and serve ten or less; get three meals a day of their special diet and 70 degree controlled temperature. Then they will get access to computers to further radicalize everyone they can contact online and everyone in the prison and they will continue to plan,” I said.

“They want to meet Allah; I intend to expedite that trip,” I said.

“This is the cover letter I have sent the college to cover all the people I’m sending there,” I said as I handed them a copy.

“You need to send people there but they need to report to Andy. He already has measures in the works; we have to work together,” I replied.

“I’ll have a team meet with Andy in the morning,” Eric said.

“I still have to deal with the Randolph Reichmann mess,” Frank said.

“According to all the contracts we signed, your agents at the colleges work for me so I am the one who is going to look bad. Not only that, when it hits the papers it will cause problems at all the colleges we serve. They are all going to question who I have working for me.”

“Do you want to question him before he is fish food, because that problem is going away permanently tonight?” I said.

When I got no answer I dialed the phone, “Andy; Randolph Reichmann is a double agent, a Russian spy and a bad one; make sure you have a couple men there when he comes into work tonight, cuff him with steel and flex, put a bag over his head.”

“Then send a clean-up crew to his apartment. Go over it with a fine tooth comb; bag everything that looks like it could be useful in finding answers. Do the same with his car. The G5 is still at the airport on standby, put him and everything you collect in it with a couple of guards and send it here; do not take any chances with him,” I said.

“Send the G5 back with the rest of my men tomorrow, Scotty is calling them now to pack,” Andy replied.

The next call was to Dad, “Dad, make sure the chipper is full of fuel and runs; park it back by the edge of the pond by the 2 inch fire hose and make sure the discharge points towards the pond.”

Frank and Eric both just stared at me; neither saying anything.

Finally Frank spoke up, “When your G5 gets here park over at the agency hangar; we will take it from there. They will do an interrogation and the team will go through the evidence. Leave the chipper back there for a couple days.”

“Don’t run any steel cuffs or leg shackles through my chipper, and clean it when you are through. There are several cases of bleach in the maintenance building; load 6 gallons on the trough in a row paired with firewood and send it through. Then flush the thing with the fire hose and run several thousand gallons of water through with it in the chipping mode. After that, rinse and thoroughly drench the outside,” I said.

“I wondered how you cleaned that thing of DNA afterwards.”

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

When the party was over I followed Ching Lee to her office. She filled me in on the conversation with Sherman; he was not a happy camper, but understood the need for no changes until our investigation was completed in a few days. He was thankful for Andy and the 10 men with him.

The hair samples were already at the lab and we were to have the DNA printout tonight. The fingerprints were already given to Robert to run through the system.

Andy had his 10 people re-positioning and adding more cameras, also doing a revaluation of the entrances to the college grounds based on the little information we had from the map.

We had finished supper and cleaning it up; it was nearly dusk and the hunters should be back any time. By Maryland law hunting ended at dusk. Jenny and my cell phones went crazy.

It had been a successful hunt and they were sending us pictures. Dad had killed a nice buck; he was sitting behind it holding the rack with an ear to ear grin. He had been hunting a dozen times this year and this was the first time he had bagged one. I wondered what made difference now.

Bob and Jason each had a big doe and equally big grins. Robin, on the other hand, had a very big buck with a huge rack. She was on her knees beside the deer holding the rack, with a smile so big there were no words to describe it.

The text said, “On our way to the gun club to weigh them in and meeting the taxidermist there. Robin wants to find out how much it will cost to have the head mounted – it’s the biggest buck she has ever shot – then on to the butcher shop.

We decided to meet them at the gun club. I wondered how my girls would take to seeing Bambi dead in the back of a truck. Jenny was no problem; Jason had mounted the deer on one wall in his study that he had bagged over the years.

When we got there the deer had already been weighed and checked in to the state log books. The Department of Natural Resources wanted a count of all the deer killed in the county. They used these counts against the live estimate to determine the length of the second hunting season and the black powder season.

They also used the sex to determine if there should be a limit on bucks in those last two seasons. A buck needed a harem of 10 to 15 does to stay healthy. Too many does and the bucks wasted away and the does would fight each other for attention, ending up hurt.

Too many deer overall led to them getting killed on the highways and moving to the developments, eating flowers to upset the rich folks. The state highway had crews dedicated to picking up the carcasses off the roadways.

The taxidermist was there measuring the antlers and recording the number, and then worked a price to put the head on a nice mount.

“Go ahead and mount it,” I told him; “The club can use today’s hunt for advertising. A big poster and endorsement for the gun maker will work,” I replied to his look. “Let’s get a picture with all the deer and the hunters together that we can use on the poster.”

The girls watched as the taxidermist made the cuts to get enough neck to make a nice looking mount. I expected them to be squeamish but was surprised; they watched closely, pointing and talking.

Andy called and I walked away to take the call, “I rented a house across from the college; it’s a big house, expensive and unfurnished. I called fifteen of my men to be at Morton at 8AM. Send them here tomorrow and send 25 of the army cots for us to sleep on. They are to bring their gear.”

“I will call you tomorrow and lay out my plans.”

I was off from KCC tomorrow and could fly on the flight, but I was worried that too many bosses showing up so close together would set off alarms. There were other things I needed to do anyway.

The night with Marcy was warm, cuddly and passionate; I wondered if all the baby talk the other night was getting all of them worked up. Even with all the passion, both of us were up early and had breakfast on the table at 6.

The best alarm clock was the old fashioned percolator that turned out the coffee that I loved. It clunked every time it perked and gurgled. I filled five more cups as I settled into my chair to drink my first of the day. Sausage, eggs and toast with a couple slices of bacon for Marcy and me.

The girls had filled their plates and we were nearly done eating when there was a knock on the door. When I got to the door the camera showed Eric standing there.

“You are just in time to join us for breakfast,” I said.

“I have already eaten, but I would take a cup of that coffee I smell,” he replied.

Over coffee, “I have the answer to your question but I am sure you could have found it without me. So I took the bait and here I am,” he said.

“You are a little earlier than I thought you would be; I’ll need a few minutes to look this morning’s info dump and put it together for a better picture,” I replied. “But first, we need to go to the airport,” I added.

When we arrived, one of the Bombardiers was powering to the terminal building. Fifteen more of the Rapid Response Team was in the terminal with their gear and bags. There were two airport carts with 25 of the better quality marine cots. I noticed that they had an equal number of air mattresses and blankets with pillows. These men were showing why I called them Rapid Response and that this was from hard learned lessons.

I carried a box of 900 Meg radios; I did not want them to be using personal phones. I did not want to chance any of them losing a phone that may have a lot of personal information on it.

Al Bunting was in charge of this group; Andy had long ago established a pecking order in the RRT command structure. “I’ll be out there with you men sometime next week,” I told him.

“I’m not sure I like what I see going on here, this looks serious as all hell,” Eric said.

Back at the office, there was a folder from Robert with a sticky note, “Call me and I will explain.”

With Eric listening and Ching Lee assisting, I went through the information the same way I had with Andy; from the beginning, starting with Dagar’s death at 515.

Then I handed Eric the information that I had on Randolph Reichmann for him to digest. The sheet that had come from Genie had the notations that he worked for Frank at Minneapolis State College.

While Eric was reading and rereading, I opened the folder from Robert. After the first two pages I thought it best if Robert explained the information to us and made the call.

“Most of the information is on Randolph Reichmann and that name is one of three we found for him. He has been Reichmann for fifteen years based on the public records. He took that name in Tripoli. After several years there, he came to the US. ”

“Before that he was Klaus Richter with Berlin, East Germany listed for a location. Genie has him listed as a Russian agent suspected of murdering a British agent in Brussels. The photo in the file and DNA is a confirmed match to Reichmann; that information on him came from Interpol.”

“He was born Heinrich Braun in Wroclaw Poland and was a member of the Russian youth brigade; facial recognition says he is one and the same. The photo I fed into Genie came from Interpol via the Russians.”

“To put the icing on the cake, the DNA and fingerprints Sherman collected match everything in Genie and Interpol; there is no mistake who he is. Another thing that caught my eye is that he is a loner; no information on any wives or girlfriends. He is living in a cheap two room apartment,” Robert finished the information on Reichmann.

“Here is what he is sending in the coded messages; looks to me he is getting data out of the college research department; most of it is advanced satellite info studies from a DOD contract,” Robert said as he handed me the papers. A quick glance told me they were way above my head so I handed them to Eric.

After a giving Eric a few minutes to look at them, he started on Diya.

“The information on Diya is bits and pieces; we are using several different sources to put it together, such as text from a burner phone that we have pinpointed by the style of the conversation with a parallel call list. He was having computer problems last night and the computer was on for a long time with his second system running; there was not as much in it as I was expecting.”

“Here are a few pictures of him from the computer camera, here are four pictures of the training, explosive devises they have made and a truck bomb that they set up. Here is the day they are planning on; you have ten days,” Robert said. “That’s all I have for now but we are working everything we can.”

“I am supposed to meet Frank at the hangar in an hour on another matter. I will call him and tell him to stop here and that we need to cancel that meeting. This could be a career – ender for a lot of people. People in high places frown on having something like this happen in their departments,” he said.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

The evening conversation was lively; Lorrie was going to make an appointment to get everything checked out, and after a clean bill of health – let the fun begin. There would be a lot of questions, but all of us were happy, and this time there would be no secrets. It was a fun night.

I was up early – way early – the first thing I did was to call Sherman, and said; “Hold the box, Ching Lee will personally pick it up this morning and go over some information with you.”

The second thing I did was to call Eric, and said: “Do you know anything about a heist of explosives from a mining company in Canada in the last year, maybe a little longer?”

“Not off the top of my head. Why do you ask?”

“No particular reason, I bought my guys a new bucket and we are filling it with data and trying to verify some of the crumbs that are falling out on the floor. I was interested on how much explosives went missing in the heist?”

“Yeah right; and you are interested in buying a slightly used bridge from San Francisco to say Hawaii, because that is one long stretch of a tale that I would never have imagined coming from you?” Eric replied.

“I would call the wimpy triplets and ask them to help you but I am afraid you would hurt one of them. I will check into it for you,” he replied.

I knew that Robert could find the information but I wanted to see if I could pique Eric’s interest enough for him to make a personal visit to find out.

I drafted a letter for Ching Lee to take to Sherman and send to the college president. Cindy was going to tweak the copy to the college president for me:

Dear Mr. Wagner,

As part of the JBG continuous improvement and customer satisfaction program, your college had been selected for this year’s security audit. This audit will cover our personnel, policies, goals, access our equipment needs and replacement schedule.

Technology and it’s effectiveness in the security business improves almost daily. Should we find that some of the technology will improve security or response of our personnel, it will be installed as part of our contract at no cost to the college.

Some of the existing personnel are scheduled for required recertification at our training facilities in Maryland and with the extra audit personnel on site, this is an appropriate time to complete that training.

We will have a number of technicians and security personnel conducting this audit. The audit may take up to two weeks. This group of personnel will strive to do their work in a manner that will not disrupt any college classes or other college activities. Much of the work may be done after hours.

Thank you.
BJ Jones
President of JBG

I warned Ching Lee that she should not have the conversation in Sherman’s office, due to the possibility of the office being bugged, and suggested that they talk in his Suburban with the radio playing.

That brought another thought into my mind, that the office there should have a bug sweep and the phones checked. I wondered if I was getting paranoid again.

I made it to KCC on time – even with the delays – just in time. Chief Dustin and Major Ashley followed me in the door.

“County prosecutor says there will be no charges; self defense and the Good Samaritan law apply,” Major Ashley replied.

“I’m glad and sure Matt will be relieved. My shrink had a good session with him and scheduled a couple more,” I replied then I added, “The first time you have to kill is always tough, and hopefully there won’t be any more.”

“I have supervised a lot of officers over the years and been lucky that I have only had to deal with an officer killing someone one time. The officer was a long time getting over it,” Ashley replied.

The chief had a call and left. Major Ashley and I talked a while longer. I opened my portable office and gave him an envelope that Jason asked me to give to him. I had told Jason of our conversation about the pending retirement.

The envelope had a completed application that only needed a signature. Jason and Major Ashley had been friends a long time and worked together on special projects when Jason was chairman of the Governor’s criminal task force.

I was leaving today at two; Bob Jackson, Phil Jameson and Robin Parsons were coming to the gun club. Bob and Robin were going to run a few rounds through a Glock then a round on the skeet course.

After that was done Robin, Dad, Jason and Bob were going deer hunting. On the south end of the airport property there was a stand of loblolly pines and scrub that also joined the farm that we leased. Altogether, the area was probably 50 acres. There were a lot of deer in there but Dad never seemed to be able to kill any.

They were getting immune to the airport noise and were wandering closer to the runways in their feeding habits. Deer on the runways was bad news and we had put up a lot of 10 foot chain link fence to keep them out. But there was a lot more that needed doing.

Chain link fence was such a nuisance to deal with all the various activities going on and would have required dozens of gates.

I went through the shooting at the gun club with them. I wanted to see how well versed Robin was with firearms before I let her go hunting with Dad, and I wanted to have confidence in how she handled gun safety.

I was impressed with the handling of the Glock and how well she did on the trap and skeet course with a course gun. The course gun was one of the rental guns a person gets to shoot with. Everybody used them and you never developed a feel for them.

Phil watched intently and I was surprised that he did not want to try a few shots.

Good or professional trap shooters had special made guns that cost thousands of dollars, with special barrels, stocks, cheek pads and trigger pulls. They were time tested and modified to the point that they were like an extension of the arm.

If she went goose hunting with the men she could easily out-shoot them; she was that good. I asked and listened to the type of gun she deer hunted with at home in Kentucky. We were unable to use rifles in the county as she had done at home; here it was shotguns with slugs or 00 buck shot.

We went to the hunting supply section of the club to get her outfitted. First was the Maryland license; Warren was the clerk that asked if he could help. “She needs a resident license and use 1001 Summers Rd as the address.” I replied as he started the paperwork.

As soon as that was completed it was to the camo section for some pants, shirt and boots that could handle bramble and briars to protect the body. Then Robin got the required reflective hunting vest.

Finally we went to the gun section to pick out a good gun that fit her arm length. They had a good selection of slug shotguns with scopes; Robin chose a Mossberg 500 slug special with a scope. I had the gun transferred to the JBG security account so there would be no paper work.

After a few practice shots to sight in the scope, the hunters went to play in the briars. I took Phil with me to the office to work out in the gym.

Back at the office there was a small party going on. Joni and Victor had returned from the cottage in the mountains today. Allie had been staying with Alica in the Horsey house. One of our clerks carried her to the private school and picked her up in the afternoon. The original trip to the mountains had been postponed because of an emergency.

As soon as Allie saw me, she came running, “I’m going to have a mommy again. I’m so happy.”

At the table Joni extended her hand to show the big engagement ring she was sporting. Congratulations were extended all around. A January wedding was planned.

Our adopted family was departing one at a time. Three of the North six were in college and already had jobs secured with the agency. The other three were seniors in school and were going to KCC next year with their excellent grades and – I was sure – scholarships. Patti was getting married in just a few weeks and now Joni; and I was happy for them.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

“You were right, the two groups are getting complacent, but that is only the part of the problem. One of the agency’s people is communicating in code to someone in Europe and using the JBG system and Google mail to do it.”

“It looks like a report on activities. Whatever it is, the code is not being generated on JBG’s computer; there is no trace of it. He is probably using a laptop and a thumb drive to add the attachment to the email. It is always being done at the same time – 2 AM on Tuesdays and Fridays – after an exchange in emails. The email looks like it is a drop box for him only.”

“The computers are working on the code; we should have it broken soon. The guy’s name is Randolph Reichmann and he has a file in Genie; not a good file either. Mosad has him flagged as for hire, to the highest bidder, the Russians in the past and now the Iranians or possibly Pakistan.”

“How in the hell is he working for the agency?” Robert asked.

“I don’t know. Let’s see what he is sending and maybe we can figure out to whom as soon as you break code.” I replied.

“Maybe he is really working for Mosad and that is his cover and the way they throw anyone off the trail. For all the information they have on the area, they have to have someone on the inside at a lot of places,” I replied.

“The next problem is we know for sure Diya is the leader and the attack is going to happen in two weeks from today. They have been practicing both the assault on the campus and building the suicide vests and other bombs that they are going to use at a farm a hundred miles from the city,” Robert said.

“I say that because they referenced an hour and a half travel time in a couple of their communications. When they go there they either remove the batteries or leave the phones in the city and the GPS is turned off on the phones. I did find out that the explosives were stolen from a mining company in Canada. They have commercial grade stuff.”

“Diya has made one mistake; he left his computer on just a few minutes too long. There was enough time for us to hack it, there was only one file on it. He is using a portable hard drive or a large thumb drive with a different operating system to hold his files,” Robert said as he handed me a drawing that I knew as soon as I saw it to be of the college grounds; it indicated the points were his group were planning on hitting.

“Thanks Robert; keep digging, you gave me a lot to digest,” I replied.

There was a lot to digest and a million questions. I needed and wanted a lot more information on Randolph Reichmann. Was he a plant? Was the agency working with Mosad? If not, did the agency know and were they following the crumb trail to see where it would lead them?

DNA and fingerprints would help. With Ching Lee in my office, I called Sherman Rommel again on the speaker phone.

“Now I am getting worried,” Sherman replied after I said hello.

“Randolph Reichmann; is there any way you can get me DNA and fingerprints from him without him knowing?” I asked.

“He sheds like a dog; I can get hair from his jacket, he leaves it hanging in his locker. The fingerprints may be a different story. Wait a minute, he drinks a lot of ice tea; brings it with him and uses the plastic cups from the lunch room. He puts his initials on them; there are always several in the trashcan by his desk,” Sherman replied.

“Use latex gloves to collect it so you don’t contaminate it, put each of them in a separate zip-lock bag and next day air it to me. Do not get caught,” I said.

“Can you tell me what is going on?” Sherman asked.

“No, not at the moment; it is several steps above your pay grade and almost above mine. As soon as I have answers I can share, I will. Be careful with what you say and to whom – keep everything close to your chest,” I said.

Those two things may answer a few questions because I was going to run them through the State Departments system – along with his picture – to see if I received different information.

The lab that our Docs used could convert the hair sample to digital readout and I was sure I could get someone from the Sheriff’s department to lift the fingerprint from the cup.

I wondered if the task force had access to Interpol data? I would ask Jenny in a few minutes.

The next piece of the puzzle was to find Andy and start looking at options. In my mind there were options but all of them were complicated.

The number one thing was to get plenty of people to the college in advance in case the plans were moved up, and do it in a way that didn’t set off alarm bells.

The complicated things were immense! I needed to decide at what point to bring in law enforcement; to go it alone and have it go bad would be suicide.

Then there was which law enforcement to bring in – with Reichmann working for the agency, which put a cloud over them, at least temporarily.

Going to the Minneapolis police was out of the question. With Diya’s father the mayor and cousin the chief of police, at the first whimper all the participants would just disappear into the fog of the community and wait.

The best bet was with Eric and the DHS; it wasn’t his area but I knew he could still work there with a phone call. The good part was only a few of the undercover agents there were DHS.

That in it self raised red flags; the agency – by law – was not supposed to be doing any work inside the US, but then who really knew for sure after all the rule changes after 9-11.

Andy arrived after I sent him a text that I needed to see him. I started at the beginning with the players at 515. I put out all the documentation that we had; it was a long conversation.

I explained the double checks I was doing on Randolph Reichmann before I approached the agency.

“I want you to find that sign and rip it up,” Andy said.

“What sign?”

“The one that says, “Come attack me,” he replied.

“I will take 10 of the RRT there tomorrow with tools, I will also rent a motor home to park on one of the campus lots to use as command headquarters, unless there is a house to rent really close by,” he said.

“Call and schedule 3 or 4 SUVs for us to use from the rental agency and motel rooms for at least two or three nights,” he said.

“As soon as we get good eyes on the place and a plan, I will send for the rest of crew.”

“I will fly out with them and tell Sherman that an onsite audit, evaluation and training exercise is going on with the RRT there for a couple of weeks,” Ching Lee replied then added, “I will fly back with the jet.”

With that everyone left to go home. Ching Lee and I spent another half hour on the phone getting motel rooms, SUVs and the flight out arranged with Lorrie.

When we got over to the house, supper was already on the table; an old staple; home-made subs and soup.

The evening went to the rest and relax mode with surprises and then bigger surprises. The boys had started crawling a month ago; just little bits and spurts, pushing themselves up. They seemed very competitive with each other and could really talk baby gibberish to each other, almost like they were telling each other a story.

They were in the crib sleeping when supper started and we were nearly done when the gibberish started, telling us they were awake and wanted attention. Then a series of rattles that caused all of us to bolt into the living room where we kept the day crib.

Both boys were standing, holding on to the sides the keep from falling and in the process, shaking the crib side to side in its latches.

“Pictures,” as phones came out and finished before their little legs gave out.

“You said that when they could stand we could plan on having another. I’m ready – I want to be next,” Lorrie said as she gave us a group hug.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

Just before I left KCC, Adam called to say they were an hour away from Entebbe. I called Ambassador Dansky.

“I have a plane landing at Entebbe in an hour. I chose Entebbe as a central location to stage Blackhawks and equipment. We have a good sized hangar there. We are also going to use it to store deliveries for Nimule.”

“The plan is to unload the plane and then for it to fly back to Angola. The pilot has some things for you. If you can meet the plane that would be great; the pilot’s name is Adam. I know it is not much notice. One of our planes lost an engine in Angola so this was a change-up flight. The plane has our JBG decals on it.”

“You have a hangar there? I would like to talk to you about using it at times, I will save that for another conversation,” Ambassador Dansky replied.

“Yes, General Aviation hangar number 17,” I replied.

He agreed to meet the plane and I left for the office and the meeting tonight. I was expecting a lot of information tonight with the Sikorsky mechanics and everything else.

Caleb Brown – my Director of security at Kampala – had inspected the hangar for Lorrie and Marcy. He had sent pictures of the exterior and interior of the hanger because I had decided to extend the lease to a full year.

The hangar had office space and a large area that was a parts and shop area that was walled off from the main hanger. It could be converted into a bunk area if I ever need it to be for any reason.

Caleb was going to do routine security inspections and be responsible for the hangar.

The meeting got off to a quick start by Robbie and Lorrie. They started with confirmation that the C5 was safely on the ground and in the process of being unloaded. Caleb was there to open the hangar for the crew.

Robbie was still going to make the 6 choppers this week and we still had 6 ready to be delivered somewhere. Now with the engine fiasco in Angola, one flight was going to have to be dedicated to moving six Suburbans to Kampala with the C130s making single deliveries of them.

There was another secret flight for the agency as soon as the C5 was back from Africa. It would be doubtful if the C5 was able to do any more flights this week, with the need of rest for the crew and inspections after more than 40 continuous flight hours.

Jason reported that all the positions for the embassy security expansion had been filled. The last of the new hires were scheduled to go through the training the first week of October and be ready to go in the field by the end of October.

We had been blessed with getting good people on board. Of the more than 1100 men and ladies hired, only 10 had washed out or quit. Then again, all of them were ex-military and Jason only hired the ones with impeccable records.

The ones that were not close enough to come to the office to be interviewed did a SVOL interview from the nearest MAAR site.

In most cases we had been able to place the new hires in one of the top three locations they chose. With the money they were going to be paid for hazard duty, a lot of them said ‘I will go anywhere you need me.’

Lorrie reported that almost all of the lots in the developments Marcy had bought were now spoken for. On another property issue, Lorrie and Jenny confirmed that we were now the owners of the 1100 acre gun club. The county transferred all the permits and licenses to JBG, including a building permit for a larger armored vault like the one we had at Morton Field.

It made no sense to have hundreds of thousands of rounds of ammunition delivered to Morton and then carry it a thousand rounds at a time to the gun club everyday for the training.

The anti-gun folks in the development adjacent to the gun club had filed a complaint and lawsuit with the county about the noise and possible lead contamination to ground water from the gun club just two days after the news hit the papers.

The transfers from the gun club included all three of their federal firearms licenses. One was a license to sell ammo, another was to sell guns and the third was to sell machine guns.

With the explosives license and manufacturing license and our existing FFL, JBG had our weapons needs covered. A big plus was that Marcy’s contracting for low bid on ammunition meant that the gun club members would be getting ammo as much as 50% cheaper than they were currently paying.

The machine gun license was going to be benched; I had no intention of selling machine guns to anyone. On the other hand, the retail gun license would take care of one growing problem in the armory at Morton.

There was a growing storage rack of 9 mm, 380, and .45 caliber semi automatic Smith & Wesson, Beretta, and Glock pistols that were either in good shape or nearly new that needed to be disposed of.

I had chosen 40 caliber Glock pistols as JBG standard issue sidearm to eliminate having to supply so many different ammos in the field. As all the former Black Water employees went through our training, their weapons were changed to the 40 cal Glocks. There were almost a thousand of them in the armory.

I did not want anyone at Morton to have to deal with retail sales of the guns. In Maryland retail sales of pistols was a bitch. The new laws required a buyer to have a HQL license just to buy a handgun of any kind plus a background check, seven day waiting period and a list of other things.

The gun club had several people that were familiar with all the rules and regulations along with the time to see it through, because they did it every day.

Some of the former Black Water employees had asked about buying the side-arm they had been carrying for personal use. Jamie had a list of those individuals. I had no objections to that. The rest would be sold one at a time through the gun club.

The meeting was over and I was on my way to the EIT office when I received a call.

“You sent so much; I never expected that and I will never use that much,” Ambassador Dansky said.

“I sent you many different brands and kinds for you to sample over time. I am sure that you can find good use for any excess to your needs,” I replied.

“Yes, I am sure I can. I will carry some for my friends to sample at the Friday night galas,” he replied.

“A couple of those are sipping whiskeys,” I said.

“OK, thanks for the warning, I will have someone do some research,” he replied.

We were getting ready to leave for the house when Robert stopped me in the hall. “I need to see you and Ching Lee in my office.”

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

At 3AM my phone rang; I was expecting the worst from Africa, instead it was bad from KCC. One of my guys – Matt Roberts – had shot and killed one man and wounded another while they were trying to carjack a car on the street in front of college.

I was at the college at 3:45; this day was not going to be a good day either. I talked to the college security desk as I drove.

The two villains had dragged the man out of the car in his driveway and he had been fighting them when both of them pulled a knife. Matt had been walking the street in front of the college on the foot patrol segment of the beat. Matt was across the driveway when the action started and had immediately gone to assist.

As soon as the knives appeared, Matt shot both of them with a 3 round sequence to each target. One died immediately and the other was in surgery at the hospital 300 yards away.

I stopped as close to the scene as I could get and walked there. There were news trucks with towers in the air filling the street and reporters running everywhere. They joined all the police and rescue trucks that had the scene lit up like noon time.

I walked up to the yellow police tape, moved several people out of the way, and then ducked under the tape. Even though I was in my KCC uniform, an officer immediately headed my way to stop me.

I identified myself and presented my KCC security badge, “Direct me to the person in charge.”

“For the town, that would be Chief Dustin Banks and State Police Major Ashley. They are over there by the car,” he replied as he pointed.

The officer had keyed his radio to announce that I was on the way as I walked towards them.

“Well, the world traveler has returned. I wondered if you were going to have to fly in from some distant far off land,” Major Ashley said.

“I’m only here for a little while longer, you will not even miss me when I am gone,” I replied.

“So the rumors are true that you are leaving,” Major Ashley replied.

“Yes, at the end of the year; I am working a reduced schedule now,” I replied.

“What can you tell me about what happened here, that I don’t already know?”

“Looks like your man interrupted a carjacking and used deadly force when they pulled weapons on the car owner. Naturally we have to go the distance with the investigation. We have his sidearm and will hold it until we are through and the DA reviews the evidence and makes a decision,” the Major replied.

“I will assign him to a desk until something is settled,” I replied.

“Why was he not wearing a body cam?” Chief Banks asked.

“Student body was against it. The student union said it was an invasion of their privacy and against their rights to be filmed any time an officer was in their area. I guess they never gave it a thought that the entire campus is under 24/7 video surveillance.”

“The board made the final decision but it did not break my heart, there is enough second guessing of what everyone does without having to put video into the mix. There are already agencies that are critiquing the video so closely, people are leaving the police force.”

“No two people react the same way to same situation: all scenarios can’t be answered by a script out of the book. Believe me, I have I have been there and done that. To sit down and dress down an employee because he said but instead of or is just plain ridiculous, let alone the massive cost.”

“Hire the best people you can; give them the best training that money can buy. Hire enough people to avoid high levels of unnecessary stress and fatigue caused by hours and hours of overtime; those are the two worst things that cause mistakes,” I said.

“You can do that; we don’t have that luxury of being the boss with the money. We ask but we never get what we want,” Major Ashley replied.

“Change the approach, use better documentation, overload them with the facts and data,” I replied.

“I almost sure that none of our cameras cover this side of the street in this area, but I will look. Where is my man? Have you finished with him, is he free to come to the security office?” I asked.

“We will review his statement and question him again tomorrow. Take him over to your office. We know where to find him. We have told him – and you can reinforce it – not to talk to the media,” Major Ashley replied.

I walked with Matt back to my Suburban and then drove to the office.

“I assume that you know you are assigned to a desk until there is a final report,” I said.

“Yeah, I know, that is not going to help though; I’d rather be busy and not have the time to think about it,” Matt replied.

“I have someone who can help with that; I will set you with an appointment. They are very good at helping in these situations. I have spent time with them myself,” I replied.

“Don’t go second guessing yourself; you did what had to be done and you had to make that decision in a split second. It was the right decision,” I said.

Bob Jackson and Mr. Nobles paid the department a visit shortly after 8. Mr. Nobles wanted to do some kind of press release; in fact, there were reporters waiting at the administration office press room.

I wrote one out for them.

“By now many of you know that early this morning one of our security personnel responded to an attempted car jacking at a residence across from the college that resulted in the death of one of the assailants with the other being hospitalized. Due to the early morning hour and the on-going police investigation, KCC has no official statement at this time. However, once all the details are known a press release will be issued. I need to emphasize that no students were involved nor were any in immediate danger.”

“I just don’t like that one of our security people was involved in this,” Mr. Noble replied.

“Car jacking is a crime of opportunity that takes less than a minute; it could have easily have been in one of the staff or student parking lots. Be glad it happened across the street and we are not answering questions about why it happened on the grounds or how safe are our students,” I replied.

“Matt was helping someone in distress; a good thing to do. Just think about it for a minute. Would you have gone to give assistance? Most people would not. Matt didn’t shoot them until they pulled knives to kill the guy and him.”

“Car jacking has been a crime that happened mostly in the cities. This is two in the county in the last two months. Serious crimes are moving our way,” I replied.

“Marcy’s proposal will be finished in a few days. If you want to distance the college on issues like this – that are complicated – give the proposal a good look. JBG would take the public thrashing when it happens, and it will happen again no matter what route we take to try to stop it,” I replied.

It was 2 when Major Ashley and Chief Dustin came to the office looking for Matt.

“He is on night shift – that starts at 11 – he is usually here 30 minutes early,” I replied. Then I added. “I have an appointment for him to see my company shrink tomorrow morning.”

“You have a company shrink?” Major Ashley asked.

“Two of them actually; all new employees spend time on the couch to make sure their head is on straight before being permanently hired, issued weapons and after any incident,” I replied.

“Like I said last night, when you control the money you can do it the right way.”

“Do you hire retired police officers? I got another year and will be eligible for early retirement; I have had enough of this mess. It’s time for someone else to deal with it.”

“If you are ready to stand beside me on the roof top call Jason; HR is his baby.”

“If that is what it takes; I may be on the roof with you but I may not be standing as tall as you do. I’m wondering where you keep them?”

“Keep what?’

“That pair of brass balls you’ve got; it took a big pair to stand on that roof in Kampala,” he replied.

I smiled and chuckled at that, “You will have to ask the girls, they have found them a time or two.”

“I can’t believe I heard you say that to her,” the chief replied.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

The C5 arrived back from Thailand Sunday afternoon. The freight they carried was tightly wrapped with canvas and quickly off-loaded and spirited away. It took longer to refuel the plane than it did to off-load the freight.

The time of Monday’s flight was going to depend on the post trip inspection. The mechanics worked on the checklist until dark and were going to require several more hours Monday morning.

I was taking Monday and Fridays off from KCC now and should have been taking more. I gave the group of 80 the pep talk and Vicky and I went through the last question and answer session with them. This group would bring four more embassies to full strength.

We were on schedule to be in full compliance by Oct 15. As with all plans, obstacles seem to find a way to interfere.

One of the Iowa planes lost the number three engine on the flight to Luanda Angola; it was the final flight for the crew and the final delivery of the 12 pre – positioned Black Hawks and Suburbans before moving on to another staging area. The plane was at the airport with its crew.

The engine did not fail gently – it was catastrophic, like someone threw a handful of rocks in the gearbox, the crew said. The crew was able to feather the prop so the blades were not creating a massive drag on the air frame. But, the circus was just beginning.

The C130-30H was powered by 4 Allison Rolls Royce T56A15 turbines. After what seemed like hours of running down serial numbers and calls to the Iowa Guard maintenance shop, Robbie determined that we had both an engine and a propeller in the parts that came with our C130’s from the military auction, and that they were new units.

The problem was how get the engine, prop and necessary stands there along with the mechanics. Lorrie and Robbie were center of all the discussions so I patiently waited for the solutions to come forth, even though I had a plan of my own.

Lorrie put it all together quickly after hearing Robbie’s thoughts. “Unload the two Suburbans, load the engine and prop with all the stands and equipment in the C5, and then send the C5 to Luanda.”

“We have 4 chopper mechanics there and the 4 maintenance guys that will arrive with the C5 that are from the fixed wing group with tons of C130 experience. I will have the guys there start removing all the cowling and as much of the other parts as they can while they are waiting, I will tell them rent or buy whatever ladders and equipment they need,” Lorrie said and then continued.

“While the mechanics are changing the engine, the C5 can deliver the choppers to the staging area at Kampala then fly back to Luanda to pick up old engine, tools and men for the trip home. Then the C130 can fly to Entebbe International to deliver the choppers with the other C130,” Lorrie said.

“Sounds like a good plan to me; I will go tell the loadmasters to unload the Suburbans. Robbie can get the parts and tools headed that way,” I replied.

I had wanted Kampala to be the last place we delivered choppers to; I wanted to combine the flight with the resupply of Nimule. Plans just get made to be broken and changed. The resupply of Nimule would be a very expensive stand-alone flight.

The load change and inspection delay put the takeoff to after lunch. I had time to fill a request by Ambassador Dansky. The only thing he had asked for was a case of American whisky for medicinal purposes.

I wondered when he asked, just what the issue was. After some thought it came to me. Alcohol was not something he could ask his foreign affairs department to send him. Nor could he go buy it in a country with a large Muslim population.

Another reason he could not buy it was there are those that would try to leverage the purchase to instigate trouble or blackmail him. All of the embassy parties I had gone to, there were only small amounts of alcohol there and it tasted like it was weak or diluted.

I took one of Lorrie’s clerks and went to the liquor store in the shopping center; when they had cases I set full cases on the counter, when they didn’t I asked for boxes. I chose a mix of hard liquor – Jack Daniels, Crown imperial, Four Roses, Old Granddad, Old Taylor, Lord Calvert, Crown Royal, Jim Beam, Old Crow, Seagram’s Seven and Kentucky Gentleman – they were all some of the best known brands.

It was a mix of corn, wheat and rye whiskys, brandy and gin. It took six carts to get it to the Suburban. The store had a lot of empty boxes the stuff was delivered in with card board dividers to protect it. We boxed it back up and marked it as glass and fragile.

The crews were in the final moments of loading the equipment in the plane and closing the rear ramp. I pulled Adam off to the side and explained that I was sending the boxes to Ambassador Dansky. I wanted Adam to call me when he was an hour out of Entebbe so I could have the Ambassador meet plane and I wanted it delivered personally to him.

I knew that a lot of what I had sent would be given away to the close friends of the Ambassadors as gifts or used as barter and to score points.

It was noon when the C5 left Morton Field. The entire schedule for today’s flight was going to have to be adjusted, from delivery of the choppers to the flights carrying the eighty to their various assignments.

Vicky, Cindy and I – plus several administrators and clerks – were going to have a full day of rescheduling. Not only were the motel rooms going to have to be canceled but embassy assignments were going to have to be changed. The pilots were going to have to save some fuel – they were 250 miles short – or else refuel. The decision would be made in flight.

By four all the rescheduling was done; it had been one heck of a mess. We found enough motel rooms at the Luanda Airport for everyone. It would be almost dark there when the C5 arrived.

It was just one of those deals; just throw in the towel and let them call it a day when they got there. Let everybody rest and be ready to go first thing in the morning. We booked all the security people on flights to get them to their original destination tomorrow. It had been a tough day and I was ready to go home, and I was sure everyone else was.
Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

The C5 was back the next day and the crew had two days off to recuperate from the jet lag and long hours of flying. Friday morning it left on another secret flight for the agency to Thailand. Then next week there was another flight to South America, this time a night drop of equipment by parachute.

From all appearances JBG was now the agency’s number one air freight supplier of choice, at least as long as we had the C5. The C130s were still flying weekly and gone for two, three and four days at a time.

The problem was that our C130s still needed inspections and now they were in the critical time frame. There was a solution coming in two weeks. Iowa was sending the second crew to replace the ones in Africa and two more of their C130s.

The crews were going on the C5 as part of the fourth load of chopper swaps. The General was also sending two additional standard C130J models to replace ours while they were grounded for inspections.

The extra manpower from Sikorsky turned out 6 completed choppers the first week and that looked to be their target for next week. Along with the C5 agency flights, there would be a flight each week to Africa or the Middle East with choppers. The twelve the C5 had delivered would be delivered to the individual embassies by the end of the week. Twelve more would be there by the end of the month.

Then 12 more would be in place by the fifteenth of Oct for a total of 36; six of those twelve were going to the Middle East. That would leave three left and that was the flight that I was going to use to deliver food for Nimule Refugee Camp.

They would be used for agency flights with a couple of our regular agency approved pilots on board.

It was late Friday when Robert texted me to stop by his office when I had time.

“It took a while but we are finally making a little progress on Dagar Daharr. We got in by using his father’s cell phone records and looking at the phone numbers that ceased calling after you did your thing with 515.”

“Then we pulled the phone records, the entire contact list and all texts. There were four phones on that account; the mayor, his wife – we think because it is only used to call the mayor – Dagar and a younger by a year son, Diya. We are assuming Dagar’s, because went it dead; no calls answered or called out after Thursday.”

“There were a lot of calls between Dagar and Diya right up until it went dead. Diya called the phone dozens of times for days before he stopped,” Robert said.

“Dagar routinely backed up his phone to the cloud so we have his contact list. It is slow work piecing it together but we are getting there. This much we do know; they are still doing reconnaissance at the college.”

“I want you to send me a copy of the student ID cards from there, give me access to the security tapes and stop the automatic deletion for a while; there are some things I want to try with the new system – that we have nicknamed Genie – that may speed things along,” Robert asked.

“You got it,” I replied.

I did not like what I had heard; reconnaissance meant they were still planning something. Had they found another explosive man to fill the spot or were going to simply do something different?

JBG was supplying security to Minnesota and Michigan colleges at the request of the CIA and DHS. Both Frank and Victor had pulled strings and twisted a lot of arms to get JBG to be the security company so they could have surveillance on sight without raising suspicions.

Things were getting so sloppy with the agencies information and sources that it was starting to make me suspicious of them; from both episodes in Morocco that they did not know anything about, to Kampala and Aadam’s disappearance and now Dagar. Whom did I trust?

My thoughts were to go back to the gut and the sand; trust no one but yourself and people close to you; I covered their backs and they covered mine. Now I signed the paychecks; I intended to cover theirs so they better cover mine.

JBG would conduct our own surveillance, do our own reconnaissance and I would plan to crush it on my own terms.

I went to my office and changed the approvals to give Robert access to the Minneapolis University student ID card list. Then I sent Sherman Rommel – my director there – a text, “Go to your office and call me on SVOL; make sure your office is secure.”

“Hello Sherman, how are things at MU today?”

“They are quiet here; but I am wondering now. Ching Lee called earlier today and you just a couple days ago and now again. Should I be looking over my shoulder?” Sherman asked.

“No, not over your shoulder. But I do want you to do some things for me; send me the current list of agency personnel and their IDs and I want that right away. Then I want a list of all student clubs, official and unofficial.”

“Have there been any unusual individuals, activity or individuals who seem to keep turning back up that are not students in the last six months?” I asked.

“Not that I can think of but I will give it more thought,” he replied.

“OK, this conversation is to be kept confidential and do all the research yourself,” I replied. Then I cut the transmission. The CIA list came in a few minutes. I printed it off and walked it down to Robert.

Again I closed the door behind me, “There are ten CIA/DHS agents working as JBG security at MU for cover, monitoring active terrorist activity in the Minneapolis area and on the college grounds. We also have the same arrangement at three other colleges. I don’t need to tell you that it’s off the record and top secret.”

“At the time this was started, certain terrorist connected groups were sponsoring foreign students in advanced chemistry, electronics, and other classes that are beneficial to terrorist activities. A substantial number of Middle Eastern immigrants have settled in the general area to make it a prized recruiting ground and easy for them to disappear.”

“Some of those students have become top bomb makers and are working to convert leftover Iraqi chemical WMDs into weapons of choice for ISIS to use for their final public stand, before the survivors join refugees going to Europe and America before reverting back to terrorism.”

“Here are the CIA guy’s IDs and photos; run them through Genie and see if anything comes up. Also check the JBG computer system there to see if they got over-confident in their cover and started using our system for their general email. It would be nice to know who they have been emailing and what they have been saying.”

“You have access to all the camera data stored for MU. If Genie is as good as Ben-David says it is, should be able to find the visitors who have been snooping at MU through the security tapes,” I replied.

“I would still like to know how and why Mossad knows so much about MU, and why I am getting so little from the agency,” I replied.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

Vicky left to go help with the new people who were being processed at the gym. I had a couple more things to do, and then I was going to the office to help as soon as there was a lull in activity.

I was waiting on the Sikorsky crew to show up. They were to be here by nine and I had told Johnson Black that I would meet them in the terminal.

I was looking out the big window with Lorrie at our two extended C130s preparing to leave on the freight run. They were in the run up area doing engine checks. One was to Charlotte and the other to Harrisburg. Moments later they were both gone.

I had just turned to walk with Lorrie to her office when the suits approached, “Ambassador Jones, Johnson Black president of Sikorsky and this is Alexander Pope, Sikorsky service North East. I would have approached you earlier but you have been extremely busy.”

“The technicians left BWI 40 minutes ago; they should be here any time. Have you got a few minutes to talk?”

“This is Executive Vice President Lorrie Smithfield Jones; she is over all JBG aviation. We can go to her office,” I replied.

Behind the closed door, Mr. Pope spoke first, “There were some misunderstandings in my office that led to the delay in your call getting to me that I need to apologize for. I can assure you that any future calls to my office will be handled in a much different fashion.”

“I appreciate that and I think your other large customers will too. I want to thank Mr. Black for his help and assistance in the matter,” I replied.

“It’s my understanding you bought these Blackhawks from our allies a short time ago?” Mr. Black asked.

“Yes, they were part of an aid package and we bought the chopper part of that package from them. I needed them to go with our embassy security contract. We have a lot of Blackhawks and a few Bell 407s scattered around Africa, Asia, the Middle East and South America,” I replied.

“I see you also have other Lockheed aircraft in your flight line,” Mr. Black replied.

“We have a little of everything in the flight line; Beechcraft, Cessna trainers and Cessna business jets, Gulfstream G5s, 450, 550, Bombardier 200s, C130s, C5, Thrush crop dusters and Bell 407 choppers,” Lorrie replied. I could tell Lorrie had some pride in the aviation division.

A group of men came into the terminal wearing the Sikorsky logo on their uniform jackets and caps.

“Looks like the technicians are here. Lets take them to your shop and look things over, and then I would like a private meeting with you and Lorrie,” Mr. Black replied.

The meeting with Robbie went well; it was a really good group discussion. The factory techs wanted to know the process our helicopter techs used.

Robbie began the explanation, “First we have to reassemble the rotor blades on the chopper; they have to remove them to ship them. At least they identified the position they were removed from to help with balancing. Then we refill all the fluids; the EPA requires them to be drained prior to long term storage.”

“Then we verify that none of the rotating parts have been tampered with and are still secured and safety wired. They were shipped with the batteries removed. All the batteries are given a 48 hour slow charge and a 24 hour static rest period, then we test them to see if they meet the specifications to put in the chopper. If they are not, we install a new battery.”

“Before they are moved outside, a complete set of recording test gauges is installed on both engines via laptop; a printout of that goes into the permanent file. Then they are run for 30 minutes through the complete engine test and flight control test cycles.”

“If the chopper passes the preliminary test it is moved back into the shop and the fluids are drained, with a sample sent to a lab for analysis. At that point a complete structural, mechanical and electrical inspection is done. The radio shop pulls all the electronics for a quality test and/or upgrades.”

“After a review of all the defects, the appropriate mechanics are assigned to do the repairs. Any rotating parts that meet the advanced inspection requirement or look suspect, are given either magnetic, dye penetrate or x-ray inspection.”

“Who do you get to do the x-ray inspection?” one of their techs asked.

“We do it in-house; we have three different x-ray machines, some things we can do on the chopper with the portable unit, some can be done on the flat table machine,” Robbie replied.

“Once all the repairs are done we roll it to the paint shop for painting and decals; as soon as it’s dry it is reassembled for final testing and flying. When it passes that we move two of the rotors into a transport position for shipping in the C130s,” Robbie ended.

“That certainly covers everything by the book. The techs are staying in a motel on the island and will stay until you get all of the choppers you need in service. They have passports, expense accounts and can travel internationally if you need them to. They can unload their tools and get started. Show them where you want them to work and what choppers to start on,” Mr. Pope said.

The four of us went back to Lorrie’s office. Once there, Johnson Black outlined Sikorsky’s world wide service network and how Sikorsky was willing and hoping to improve the business partnership with JBG. It was a sales pitch and an attempt to make up for bad first impressions.

Sikorsky had several service centers on the African continent that were located on civilian/military joint use airports. Some of those were located in or relatively close to the US embassies we were supplying security for.

In the Middle East they had three centers – in Israel, Saudi Arabia and Abu Dhabi – and JBG was going to have choppers in those countries as well as several adjoining countries. It might well be a beneficial business arrangement after all. The meeting lasted an hour and ended with a handshake and a business card with the private cell numbers of both Black and Pope.

I went to the office to help there. For days I wondered what to do with Ellen, Alice and Linda, now that I had gotten my wish that Woodman no longer wanted them back.

The remedy to the question had presented itself with the last group. All three of them helped the State Department trainers with protocol required in the daily embassy business. They were also to help train the persons we needed to run the embassy communications rooms.

Burt and Robert – working with our IT guys – had taken three offices and copied the design specs that the state department used to set up and control embassy- to- embassy communications. The three offices looked like the real communications room in any US embassy.

It was working very well; the girls were able to pass along some of the things about the embassy way of code speaking that I had worked to learn. They were giving the new people the course on diplomacy that the State Department used to, only now it could be done on our terms, like when they needed a break from other strenuous training.

I spent the rest of my day in the office helping out where-ever something needed to be done. All the while I was waiting to hear updates on the flight to Bamako. The three planes were not going land until at least 6 PM our time; midnight there.

It was 7 PM when the call came in that they had landed in Bamako Mali. Swapping the loads around was in progress; each of the C130s had unloaded one of the Suburbans they had carried to be replaced with a Blackhawk and the necessary men to bring the compliment of the embassy where they were going to the required 40 man level.

The rest of the men were flying general aviation to their destination. The day ended on a positive note with so many different pieces coming together and no surprises.

The rest of the week went that way. With the RRT as trainers I was able to back off the training, except for enough to stay in shape.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.