The following is an excerpt from the upcoming action adventure fiction novel by ADDISON GAST published by Xlibris.

Estimated publish date; October 2008. Previous book by the author; EXTRACTION   (ISBN978-1-4363-5165-2)

INTERDICT

(in·ter·dict)

1.     Prevent illegal entry

2.     To prevent somebody or something from entering a country illegally

3.     To stop or impede entry by force or other actions.

CONTENTS

Prologue                                                                    

Chapter 1:       :Tikrit Iraq, June 6,1996

Chapter 2:       Near the Iraq Iran border June 12, 1996

Chapter 3:       Jabal, Saudi Arabia, command Headquarters

Chapter 4:       Nawabshsh Pakistan  Museum Sah Kabarsa

Chapter 5:       Intelligence work requires patience and focus

Chapter 6:       An amazing discovery starts the ball rolling

Chapter 7        West Point Virginia. East campus

Chapter 8        Training camp-thirty five k outside Mazr I              Sharif

Chapter 9        Nawabshsh Pakistan   University Laboratory

Chapter 10      Homeland Security Arlington Va.

Chapter 11      Delivering the goods

Chapter 12      Rooftop OP Mazar I Sharif

Chapter 13      Big Bird Touched down at Rota Spain 0330

P  r  o  l  o  g  u  e         One

*****

. Tuesday Morning April 21,

Tikrit Iraq

1996

[1]Haydar  yawned as he approached the breakfast table and greeted his mother Abidah “Close your mouth when you do that Haydar.” She instructed the teen age son of [2]Anmar, her late husband. “You and your friend-[3]Bishar  were up very late talking last night. What does he speak of that is so interesting that you would sacrifice the sleep you appreciate so much?”

“He relates to me the adventures of his cousin that was in the Republican guard.” Replied  Haydar with eyes sparkling as if he was relating how he had listened to Marco Polo or Alexander the great describe their latest conquest.

“Where are his parents from Haydar? He speaks like a fellahin ( farmer) that just arrived from Yanbu Al Bahr.”

“He has no parents. He is alone except for his Uncle-the shepherd and his cousin.” Replied Haydar

“What happened to them?”

“The war.”

“How? “When?

“The Americans killed them in a bombing of his village. The soldiers of Hussein were camped just outside the town and when the Americans dropped their fire sticks from the sky, they were burned to death. Bishar escaped the killing as he was with his Uncle, a shepherd in the hills. He watched the massacre in horror from his campfire.”

“How sad. So he is now here in Tabuk with relatives?”

“No Mother-he has no relatives or family. He is here looking for his cousin in hopes of joining him in the army of Osama, the leader of Al Queda.”  Replied Amr casually as though he had just explained that his friend was looking forward to joining the local Boy Scout troop.

“You are telling me that that Young man-Bishar , is an insurgent? Do you know what they do to insurgents in this area?” His mother had stopped in the middle of making Haydar’s griddle cakes.

“He is not an insurgent Mother. He has never been in combat. Bishar has not yet had the training. I know he will make a good soldier as he is very brave.”

“He is what? Perhaps 15 years old? He is a baby, not a soldier. Your father was a soldier and then an honorable professor.”

“He is fourteen Mother same age as I and  your age makes no difference if you are worthy of belonging to the army of Osama . He told me so.”

“I don’t think this Bishar is a good person for you to befriend so quickly. He will turn your head and you will regret that you did not listen to your Mother. Do not ask him here again. Do you understand?”

“But Mother, he…..”

“Not here in my home again—you understand?”

Haydar picked up his text books from the table and was out the door. He turned the corner onto the street where his school was located and saw Bishar talking to a group of his school friends. As Haydar approached Bishar smiled and said to the others;

“Here is Haydar. We have talked for many hours about the army of Osama. He will someday soon join us in the cause I am confident. Haydar, tell your friends here what we discussed only last night about the adventures of soldiers fighting for Osama that are our same age.”

Haydar was broadsided. He was not a good conversationalist .He did not have the strong charisma that Bishar possessed and he was somewhat shy.

“Yes, we have talked for many hours on the subject. Bishar has many friends that are in the Army and knows the ways of a soldier. Even now, he travels on his own throughout the country looking for his cousin who was in the Republican guard.”

“Really? Your cousin was in the Republican guard?” Asked Omar, Amr’s friend as he looked again at Bishar with widened eyes this time.

“He was an officer—a lieutenant “replied Bishar.

“Was he captured by the Americans or British?” Asked Omar not taking his eyes off Bishar.

“Yes he was captured and detained for awhile but there were no reprisals or actions taken against him. It was when he was in the detainment camp that he was recruited into the army of Osama “

Bishar explained how his cousin met some men that were also in the camp that said they made the connection through a contractor that supplied food to the prisoners in the camp. Three of the men that were later released ahead of his cousin went directly to Afghanistan. It was there that they gave Bishar’s   cousin’s name  Awwab  Qasem to their commander. . He in turn made arrangements to have Awwab take some preliminary training in Syria. That is where he is presently so far as Bishar knew.

“So, when your cousin returns from Syria do you plan to join him?”

“Yes Omar, I do. That will be sometime next month as I am told,”

The school horn sounded and the group broke up. Before going inside the school, all the boys bowed on the large mat inside the entrance to the classrooms. to say their second morning prayer.

“I will see you by the marketplace when you have completed your studies Haydar.” Said Bishar as he waived over his shoulder leaving the school yard.

P r o l o g u e      Two

Tuesday Morning April 21,

Jabail, Saudi Arabia

1996

“D-J  you have a lot of lose ends to get out of the way before we move back to the states in two months. Your father  is counting on you to help with this transfer to Washington and to help set up our new home in Alexandria.

It was Dennis’s Mom Janet being a Mom again

 Dennis Wesley Jacobs ,”D-J” as his mother  and American friends called him had a full plate for a teenager. It was especially a full plate when you are a son of a Brigadier General  serving in Saudi Arabia who has his family living on base with him. D-J hardly knew what it was to be and American teenager he had been in the Middle East with his Dad so long. He was six when his father made Brigadier and moved the family to Saudi to be with him. D J hardly remembered the kids in his school in Virginia where they moved from. He was educated on several military bases during the enlistment of his father and spoke several dialects of Arabic and proficient Urdu. It was necessary. It was part of the social life in elementary and junior high school in this part of the world. D-J had kept his American culture alive with his American and NATO friends playing soccer and baseball and his scouting. He would receive the much revered Eagle Scout award before he left Jabail. His father was most proud of his accomplishments in scouting and kept a photograph of D-J in his uniform on his desk at the command post headquarters. Outside of the several visits back to the U S for his grandfathers birthday, his older sister’s graduation from Southern California university and other family occasions, D-J ‘s life was very cosmopolitan. He never felt disconnected from  any of his family or relatives.

“Mom, I have soccer practice after school and then I have to attend the pre award ceremony at the scout center. I’ll be home by seven and after my homework, I can help box the stuff in the garage-OK?  I’ll call you on my cell when Jim’s Dad picks us up and we are on the way home, I promise.”

D-J then picked up his sports bag with his gear in it and was out the door onto the base school bus.

As D-J exited the bus his pal  [4] Abdul-Matin . greeted him “Masa alkhar” (Good morning) he responded “Masa alnur” Abdul, what’s hangin man?

“Not a lot D-J but I want to talk to you after you drop off your gear and I finish my morning prayer-OK?. I’ll meet you outside first period chem. Class.

“Deal” Replied D-J and they parted ways.

           D-J put his gear in his locker and walked over to the Chemistry building and, seeing that Abdul was not there yet he laid down on the grass under a large fig palm. When Abdul came across the lawn and sat down with D-J he was not his smiling self. D-J sensed there was something heavy on Abdul’s mind.

“We have talked many times about college and what you want to do D-J and you know I want to be a chemical engineer with a nuclear major. But we will never accomplish these things living on military bases with our parents. I know you are going back to the states and will most likely be appointed to West Point and I am proud of you. But I know that I must also come either to the United States for my continued education or Great Britain. My  parents have made funding for this available but I will have to seek employment in order to live. Will you assist me in this endeavor when and  if I am able to come to the United States?

“Hey man, you can have my room while I am at the Point if I make it. If not, we can be roomies together at whatever University we can get into—OK?” Said D-J

D-J made this promise and offer full well knowing that Abdul’s parents would feel good about their son having an American family to live with. Abdul’s father was a Saudi liaison  between the Sheik and  US Forces. The two boys parents knew each other well and socialized quite often.

The class bell rang for the second time and the two got up and started walking at an increased pace to the lab.

“Late again D-J. Mr. Long is going to have a cow.” Said Abdul.

“I’ll tell him you were showing me how to chart the chemical comp of nitrogen  before we came in and we forgot the time. You do know how to chart the composition of Nitro don’t you—just in case he asks? Asked D-J smiling as they went thru the lab door.                 

Fast forward to

Monday  June 6,1996

Jabail, Saudi Arabia

Base Housing Quarters for Brigadier General Jacobs

         “Mom, I can’t open the letter.. I know what it is this time. After all the tests, physical quals and essays I can’t take it if they tell me to apply again next year” Said D_J

“Is that any way for a future general of the United States Army, perhaps a chief of staff to talk? Bravery is a requirement Dennis Wesley Jacobs. Something they will not be able to teach you at West Point, you have to possess it and unfortunately, you can not inherit it from your father. He earned that distinction on the battlefields of Korea and Viet Nam. Open the letter son.”

D-J opened the manila envelope slowly as if it was a precious document directed to him from the President of the United States. It was.

WE ARE PLEASED TO INFORM DENNIS WESLEY JACOBS OF HIS ACCEPTANCE TO THE UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY, WEST POINT, NEW YORK.

The letter went into detail about the  required physical and educational examinations that were scheduled to follow. It explained that the letter of acceptance was only a formal announcement and that his final acceptance and induction into the academy would be based on his qualifications as a result of the aforementioned exams and physical. The letter ended by stating that a framed letter and certificate was to follow.

Brigadier General Tomas Jacobs had just finished his Monday morning briefing when his cell rang.

“Dad-its D-J—I got the letter from the point this morning.”

“Well son, tell me, are you going to be mowing lawns on base this summer or will you be learning  to sleep standing up?”

“Dad—it says I’m ACCEPTED!”

“Wonderful son. I’m really proud of you. You know the really hard part is yet to come. We’ll probably have to get you set up with your Aunt Mary and Uncle Clyde so you can go back to the States and start the program before your Mom and I get transferred. We should be following within a few months. Did the acceptance letter  give a report date?

“No. It said a certificate and details will follow. I guess that’ll tell my schedule for the summer-right?”

“We’ll see. Right now you need to relax for the next twenty four hours and come down off the cloud because from the day of your next letter, your ass belongs to the U.S. Army and you can forget about extra activities.”

The General spoke briefly to D-J’s Mom and then replaced the cell back in his cami jacket pocket and smiled as he shook his head and hit the desktop.

“Som bitch.” It was a release of excitement the General seldom displayed.

“Something I should know General?” Asked Capt. Tom More, the Generals XO, not knowing if the news would be good or bad.

“D-J got his acceptance letter to the academy this morning.”

“Bravo Zulu!” The Capt. Replied with a hi fiver and now also smiling.

“Its good to see the review board at the point are reading all the lines and in between the lines on applications General. What a catch for the Point. Here is a young man, physically 4.0 with a grade point average of….what???

“3.90” Injected the beaming General.

“3.90” Continued the Captain.

…Speaks not only fluent Arabic but [5]Urdu as well. I’ll bet there are some pretty anxious instructors waiting to talk to him. Congratulations Sir. You did a great job raising D-J.” It was not platitude. The Captain had known the Generals family since they were both stationed in Pakistan.

“Thank you Captain. Now back to work. Any thing in those pages of Intel that came in this morning that I should read?”

“I have some concerns about the recruitment activity we have seen around the northern part of Iraq. Tikrit  in particular. It would appear that Al- Qaeda has established a pretty solid transportation corridor from the northern part of Iraq to Iran  and then on to Afghanistan for recruits. We are checking on how  and why these guys are so focused on getting recruits to Afghanistan.”

“Any particular recruit profile they seem to be looking for?

“Good English is evidently a prime requirement.”

“Any other?”

“Younger than most they have approached before.”

“What kind of numbers are we talking about that we know have been recruited?”

“So far about a dozen have been signed up so to speak. However, they have not moved out of the area yet. We have a set of eyes in the group but can’t communicate often because we do not want to blow his cover before they actually leave the area.”

“I don’t like the English and young requirements in this scenario at all Captain. It looks like they are setting up a special [6]Madrasa Khasa to do something nasty in the western world. Let’s keep a close eye on them. Any way we can get photos of these kids that have joined or are entertaining the thought?”

“As you know General, most Islamic  kids are camera shy except for American TV reporters and their crews. Not a good idea to let Gomer know we are photographing his Mujahideen boot camp candidates.”

“Stay heads-up on this group Captain. Code name the folder and the group [7]Saih. We’ll consider them tourists until they leave the country or do something. Ok?”

“Roger, General.

That evening, D-J, his Dad and Mom enjoyed a quiet dinner at the officer’s club where their table continually received a stream of well-wishers for D-J and his new military career.

*Chapter 1

Tikrit, Iraq Morning June 6,1996

Haydar had his mind made up. He would join Bishar and his cousin Awwab in their journey to the Madrasa Khasa in Pakistan. His mother would have a very dim view of his travel away from his home and birthplace but the thought that he would be in the company of Bishar and Awwab would certainly not be good. He would explain that he has been offered an education that was not available to him in Tikrit. He could become an engineer as his father wanted him to be. He would study engineering and return to Tikrit and become a very notable and distinguished professional designing a new infrastructure for his city. The Americans and NATO were bringing into the country contractors from all over the world to rebuild the country after the recent war. He would be able to take advantage of that opportunity if he had a degree which he certainly could not obtain here with the limited funds of his family. His grades were good enough to obtain a scholarship but he would have to be schooled in another country. It sounded good to Haydar and he hoped it would sound as good to his mother. He had never lied to his mother and felt bad about what he must do but as Bishar had explained to him, sometimes the older people are fearful of change and hold back and therefore lose the chance to advance. Some things are necessary Bishar assured him, to make progress for the family. Sometimes even a slight “embellishment” on the true nature of the trip to Pakistan. He would write often and send details of his progress in the school and would assure his mother that he would say his prayers three times a day no matter where he was. He would tell her that He absolutely knew that his late father would want him to take this opportunity and he would, in a manner, be honoring him by returning to his city of Tikrit as a engineer .Haydar had it all in his head just how he would present this planned odyssey to  her at the right time. He would have to hurry. Bishar said that they would be leaving day after tomorrow.

Bishar trusted this man known only as “Mannar—the strong one” simply because his cousin had written in his letter that the man would bring the group together when they left their homeland. Today however he was beginning to fear Mannar. It was understandable that the man would be somewhat nervous and anxious to get the group of young recruits together and leave for their new training location. It was not so much the way Mannar barked commands at the group—that was to be expected of a military leader, it was the look that this man had in his eyes. His eyes were not bright and clear like those of his teachers and cleric.  This man had evil eyes and were dark set. They looked even more fearful when he looked at you from beneath his head cover.

“Bishar you have the responsibility of getting all these recruits assembled tomorrow by the warehouse and it must be done without anyone noticing that we are leaving the village as a group. Before the light of the sun comes over the east side of the Mosque we must be underway on our journey.” Mannar was pointing at the chest of Bishar as he spoke.

“There will be no problems my captain. These are all my friends and will obey my requests.” Promised Bishar.

“Good.”

“Are we all going to be in one vehicle or will we leave in small groups?

“Why do you ask youngster?

“I would like to travel with my friend Haydar if we are going to split up.” Replied Bishar.

“ I do not often give advice to one so young as you Bishar, I command and you follow. Because you are the cousin of my combat brother Awwab, I will give you this one last bit of advice and after this you will not ask for favors or advice. Is that understood young man?”

“Yes my Captain. I will not bother you again, I promise.”

“Good. Remember this and keep what I am about to tell you as our secret and confidential understanding.”

“I promise.”

“Good. You must never ask where your next journey is going or when. You will never ask your leaders to explain why they ask you to do something. Doing so will indicate to these people that you have doubt and are not secure in your belief. This could bring you great problems within the organization because secrecy is one of the most important elements of strategy and logistics. Should one of our leaders suspect that you are becoming inquisitive in respect to where we are moving to or when, your life could be in danger. Never forget this friend because you will not be told it again or by anyone else.”

“I appreciate your valued knowledge Captain and I will retain this in sincere confidence.” Replied Bishar

It was getting late in the evening and Haydar knew the time had come when he must tell his beloved mother of his decision to go with Bishar on his journey. He had packed all that he would be permitted to have with him on the journey according to Bishar’s instruction. No family photographs or items with his family name or initials. No  items of clothing or sports attire that had his school name embroidered . He had everything that he could take neatly tucked into his knapsack and tied very tight. The charm that his father had given him on his 10^th birthday would not be a problem he told himself because he would keep the silver coin on his necklace and out of sight. Only he would know that it would be constantly around his neck to remind him that he was in the sight of his father no matter where he was. His Quran was small and was made of sturdy material also given to him by his father.

“I can not believe you are directly disobeying me. You dishonor your late father and our family to do such a thing as this. “ His mother went on and on.

“I am doing this in honor of my father  mother. I will become an engineer and help rebuild this village and my country for the future.” Bishar sounded convincing to himself but he could see that he was definitely not registering with his mother.

“I promise to write you every possible chance I get mother. You will always know my thoughts are with you and you will also know where I am. Really.”

“Can you not see young one? It is not that you are leaving me alone here in this village to grow old by myself but  Who you are going with.”

Abidah Jarrah could  see that her son had made up his mind and there was no changing it. No matter how she referenced her family  pride and the fact that this Bishar was not a person that would be a good associate for Haydar, the fact was there. She had lost her son to Satan and he was doomed. She would give him her love and then remove him from her thoughts. She could not worry about something she knew so little about. What would be, will be. She gave her son a kiss on his forehead and held him ever so tight in her arms.

He was gone when she awoke the following morning.

The sun was just behind the hill and still out of sight when Haydar joined the group assembled by the warehouse. He recognized two of his classmates in the group that he had never known were considering joining this adventure. He was pleased that he would have some friends that could provide something of a reference to family as he moved forward in his new life.

“As of this day forward you will not be known by your family  names. The only time you will see your family name is when you will require identification for the authorities. Other than on these occasions, you will be known to each other by your new names.” The strong one was talking.

“In the next few days we will all be traveling in very tight and uncomfortable quarters and so it is now that you will be given your new name. You will come to me with the name the group has chosen for you and I will consider if it is appropriate.”

When Haydar was introduced to the strong one by Bishar, he asked that they be permitted to travel together.

“Of course young man. Bishar will be your constant companion from this time forward. I can see that your friendship is genuine and that is a quality that will make you an important warrior.” The strong one then motioned for the entire group to come inside the warehouse.

As they opened the large doors to the building, Haydar was surprised to see three large white nine passenger vans lined up. They were American made and appeared to have air conditioning. On the side of each was the name of a university in,……..Iran??

“I am confused Bishar.” Said Hydar to his friend.

“About???” replied Bishar.

“These vehicles are from some university in Iran. Will they be safe to travel in when we reach Syria?”

“Syria?”

“Yes, did you not say that you were going to see your cousin who is training in a camp in Syria?”

“Everyone here was told they were going to Syria when they were recruited Haydar. It is the first part of learning to be a good Mujahideen. Never let your enemy know where you are going next or when. You were told this in case any of the group were questioned by someone that may be a spy or give away our intent. Do not ask the strong one that question. You will be starting off on the wrong foot for sure.”

The group boarded the vans and left the warehouse in the dark of early morning. As they headed east and into the countryside the sun came up and was very bright.

After several hours on the road the three vans came to a small road leading to the south and turned onto it. The vans went another five miles off the main road and over a small mountain. When the vehicles entered the crest and started down into a small valley, Haydar who was sitting in the first seat with Bishar saw a small gathering of tents and more vehicles.

“We will have a rest here of one hour. During that hour you will be given some reading material to take with you on the remainder of our journey. Do not let this material out of your sight in the next few days. If you sleep, the material must be beneath your body so no one may take it. Anyone who loses, misplaces or destroys any of this material will be dealt with accordingly.” The strong one was looking at the group very sternly as he spoke.

There was a very big meal served to the group and they were given bottles of water to take on their next leg of the trip. After the meal all individuals were given a notebook three ring binder with several pages and photographs.

When they returned to the vans, the driver was outside Haydar’s vehicle talking to one of the men at the camp. They were discussing the fact that one of the front tires on the van had a slight bulge and there was a possibility that it could blow out  during the next leg of their trip. Haydar could not contain himself. “Why do you not change that tire to the rear of the van so that if it blows out, you will have better control and not send us into a ditch?” He asked the driver. The driver said something to the man at the camp in a language Haydar did not understand and he left. “You know of such things by what means young man?” Asked the driver of Haydar’s van..

“My uncle had several vehicles in his fleet in Tikrit and he was able to obtain many more miles on such a tire if it was moved to the rear and some air left out.” Haydar  replied. The man returned with a hydraulic jack and was removing the tire when the strong one came over and asked why they were not getting into the van. The rest of the group were ready to leave. The driver explained what Haydar had said and finished changing the tire.0

“So we have an engineer in the group now?” Said the strong one as he looked out over the group as he spoke.

The recruits boarded the van and they were under way again.

The material to be read was the first in a series of tactics and purpose of warriors of Dar al-Islam, or the house of Islam. It explained that al-Qaida had a black and white view of the world as being “with us or against us.” The interpretation of the Qur’an (114:4-5) supporting much of this action is the need to defend against the “mischief of the slinking prompter, who whispers in the hearts of men.” Those “pure in faith” will be “afflicted” or tempted by the freedoms of the west The methods of warriors for the army of Bin Laden are highly motivated, skilled, creative, resourceful and courageous. Operations are planned out in detail and discussions of such operations are a primary feature of life among the better warriors.

It was early the following morning when the vans rumbled into the next camp. This camp was not as easy to find as the last. Haydar noticed that their driver was looking closely at the road just after they passed an overturned army truck. A man stepped out of the darkness and raised his arm to signal the driver to pull to the side of the road. All three vans pulled to the roadside and turned off their lights.

The driver’s hand held radio a walkie-talkie of sorts came alive and gave the driver instructions to follow the man on the camel. Over the hill that was about two miles from the main road they came to some tents where several men were carrying flashlights and directing the driver to park under some tents.

The recruits disembarked the vans and were gathered into a tent and told to find sleeping space where they could. No one was to use a flashlight or candle unless they asked one of the men by their door in advance.

Haydar found a blanket and a small pillow made of rags and a sack to sleep on. He immediately went to sleep.

Before sun up the following morning, the recruits were given dry meals and water. They were loading back into the van when Hydar discovered he was on the wrong vehicle.

“Where is he?”

“ I had breakfast with him only moments ago. He could not have gone far” Replied the other voice.

“Who are you looking for?” asked a voice that was obviously that of the strong one.

“The one that suggested the tire change. “The engineer “ Answered the driver.

Haydar got off of the van and immediately went around the front of his vehicle where the driver was talking to the strong one.

“I am here Captain. I am sorry. I got on the wrong van in the darkness. They are all white and I made a mistake.” Said Haydar.

“Get in the van-now” Instructed the strong one.

As Haydar took his seat beside Bishar he heard the recruit behind Bishar say; “Now we know what your friend will be named.”

Bishar turned and looked at the boy.

“And that is what? Lost?” Jokingly said Bishar.

“No” Said the boy.

“The Engineer. He will be known as the Engineer.”

*Chapter  2

Near the Iraq Iran Border June 12,1996

Early morning

When the vans were forty five minutes from the border, the strong one had the drivers pull off the road onto a shaded rest area where he assembled the group of young men around five picnic benches. They were told to return the material they had been given to read to the driver of the third van and it would not be returned to them. He had hoped that they all had read the entire contents diligently as there was important information they would need in the next few days in their travel. He then cautioned each and every person that should they be pulled apart from the group for questioning, the following information was to be given to whoever was doing the questioning.

They are above average students that have been awarded scholarships to the university in Iran. They are all orphans and they have few if no living relatives. If the officials want to inspect their belongings, they are to freely provide their property without discourse or objections. The property will be returned to them. If the officials take photographs of them they are to tell the strong one immediately as soon as they come out of the indoctrination room. Then, the strong one asked if anyone in the group spoke a language other than their native Farsi. Bishar raised hi hand.

“My uncle was from Pakistan and I lived with him and my cousins for several years. I speak their language of Urdu. I also write the language-which is very difficult as it is written from right to left.” The strong one replied; “Fine. If you  should be asked, you are from  Karachi. You were sent to this school by your teachers. How many of you speak English fluently?” He looked at the group and saw, to the person, they had all raised their hands. This was not so amazing as most all of the group was from and area close to the military base and English was taught as a main language and several of the American teenagers were known to attend the village schools in addition to their own on the base..”Any other?” the strong one asked. Haydar raised his hand.

“Yes? Mr. engineer.” Remarked the silent one.

“My grandfather was from the north of our country and he spoke Dari. I continue to use it sometimes with my relatives who were also from the same area.”

“You have no relatives engineer. I have just caught you lying. I want you to think carefully before you answer any questions at this border station. Volunteer no information answer only their questions as briefly as possible.”

Having said that, they returned to their vans and again were under way.

The line at the border started about half a mile from the crossing point. Trucks loaded with goods, animals and freight were idling in the hot sun and dust of the area. It was uncomfortable and hot in the vans even with the air conditioning running at full speed. A truck had stalled right at the crossbar for the crossing and men were attempting to push it across the opening and over to the side of the road. It was loaded with large bags and several sheep and two goats. The truck was six vehicles in front of the groups three vans and you could see the soldiers looking through the truck bed, pulling sacks off and moving the animals. Suddenly, from under one of the large bags, a man with an automatic rifle,-a AK47 jumped to the ground and ran about thirty feet from the truck inside the border and turned to fire. The following scene was enough to bring start reality to the young recruits watching in horror as the spectacle unraveled in front of them.

The man with the AK47 ran to a car that had just crossed the border and pulled the driver from the car and shot him without hesitating one moment. The body lay by the car bleeding as the man jumped inside and started to race down the road. The border patrol soldiers that had gone over to inspect the truck had taken cover when they saw the rifle and were not able to fire at him because of the multitude of people walking across the border. One of the soldiers raised a hand held radio to his mouth and was shouting orders as the others were firing at the fleeing sedan. The sedan was almost out of sight when a lone figure stepped out into the middle of the road in front of it. He had a weapon on his shoulder and all the young recruits saw when the man fired was a large ball of fire and parts of the white sedan flying in the air. The driver of the truck that the man had been in was screaming at the border patrol soldiers that he new nothing of the man hiding in the back of his truck. One soldier came up to the man who was in his late sixties and hit him with his rifle but. The driver collapsed and was then pulled into the small building by the crossing.

Haydar and Bishar were speechless and had observed the entire fracas from the front seat of the van. They were still looking at each other when the soldier came over to the van and after looking at the sign on the side of the three vans, ordered the drivers to pull off into an inspection area and wait.

The “students” were told to get out of the vans and come into the small building. They were told to bring whatever belongings they had with them along for inspection. Haydar was trembling as he laid his knapsack on the table for the inspector to look at. He was one of the first to go through the process. Inside the building it was cool and despite the heat and dirt outside, the place was relatively clean. A central office with a desk and two flags behind it was the main eye catcher. Adjacent to that office that obviously belonged to the station chief was a room with a long table. At the end of the room there was a sign that said EXIT over one door and AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL on the other.

The room with the table had a window at the end that opened into the other room. Haydar was told to leave his knapsack on the table and come to the other room.

The Iranian officer looked at Haydar and asked his age. Haydar answered with a number and nothing more.

“What is your major at this university?” Asked  the officer.

“Engineering” Replied Haydar

“Mechanical or civil ?  Again asked the officer

“Civil engineering sir.”

“You will be working on sewers and working in crap that is infected with vile germs you realize? Change your major to aviation. It will be more interesting and rewarding young man.” As the officer was talking to him, Haydar noticed through the glass between the rooms, a man going through his knapsack looking closely at the contents. The man did not look Arabian or Persian. He stopped when he came to Haydar’s Quran and as he was looking inside, the officer talking to Haydar snapped his fingers in front of his face and said;” I am talking to you young man. Never mind what is going on in the next room “ As he spoke, he pulled the blinds closed over the window so Haydar could not see into the other room any longer. The officer told him to sit in the chair by the far wall and wait. He left the room.

Soon, a young woman came into the room and told Haydar to  sit straight while she took his photograph. She took the photograph and then asked Haydar to stand and give her his hand. She inked his right hand and fingers and pressed them onto a piece of cardboard. As she handed Haydar a paper to clean his fingers with, she instructed him to exit through the opposite door and wait in the area with the rest of his group.

Only the recruits were in the room. The drivers and the strong one were absent

After a long time the door opened and the strong one and the drivers joined the group and all were told to stand in a line facing east.

The students were told to come forward as their name was called  and then form a line on the other side of the room.

“Al Badawi” Yelled the officer.

Hesitantly, a  young companion of Bishar’s walked forward and over to the officer.

The officer looked at Al Badawi and then handed him a card with his photograph on it. On the back was a copy of his fingerprints. This process continued until all were processed. The strong one protested in rapid Arabic to the head official but the official remained unmoved  and directed  the students to return to the vans. Once they were again on the vans and in their seats the official climbed on the vehicle steps and addressed them again.

“You have been issued a student identification card at this facility. You will present this card as identification at any time you are requested for identification while in this country. If you have reason to return to Iraq or cross any border of our country, you will be required to return this card to the border guards or at any airport when you exit this country. Do not lose this very important document. Have a nice trip.” The officer exited the van and motioned them to proceed across the border. The strong one was in a very excited condition as they left the area. He was talking in rapid Arabic to the driver and saying that this procedure was never imposed before at this crossing.

The paved road was  easier to travel on and the group started making up for lost time at the crossing. Just after sundown the three vans pulled into a small village and drove to a large building similar to a warehouse but it had no truck docks. The vans entered the building and the doors closed.

Inside the building they were greeted by several young men with automatic weapons and pistols on their belts. Haydar noticed that they were not much older than he but they looked somewhat tired and nervous

The strong one came up to Bishar and told him to follow him while the group was shown to their new living quarters.

“I’ll rejoin you engineer as soon as I finish with the strong one. ”Bishar used the new given name for his friend and left with the man.

The following morning the recruits were given an early meal and after prayer they broke into groups of five and started their training.

It was three days before the engineer saw Bishar. He came to the engineers quarters after evening prayer and sat with him as he related his last three days experiences.

“ I have been given my Mujahideen name and it is Saladin. This name as you know from our history was the name of the famous commander during the crusades. He had a way of bringing men together and making warriors of the common man. They say I have that ability.”

“I am pleased to hear you have made such a connection with these people my friend. I am proud of you and will always think of you as Bishar, my trusted friend.” Said  Haydar.

“I must now return to the teacher’s place where I am staying. I will be leaving tomorrow to return to our country to bring more believers into the brotherhood.”

“Leaving? You are going to leave the school here? I thought we would be together during this period in our instruction Bishar.” Haydar was almost crying. He was thinking how lonely it already had become living in such dark dismal surroundings.

“I will be back here often my friend. I will always look for you when I do.” He gave Haydar a strong embrace and left the quarters.

Haydar rolled over on his sleeping pad and began to have thoughts of his decision to enter into this adventure. He must get those ideas out of his mind. They were the workings of the evil one that he had already been instructed to be wary of. He rolled over and pulled the blanket over his shoulder and tried to fall asleep.

* Chapter  3

Jabal, Saudi Arabia, Command headquarters

September,1996

“What have you heard from D J General? I know that he left several months ago for the states and was to enter the point but I have neglected to ask how he is doing?” Asked Capt Tom More.

“He is doing just fine Captain. Thanks for asking.” Replied the General.

“You will get to see him in about another six weeks when you take your new assignment at the Pentagon right?

“Well some much needed vacation time Tom and then we will see if we can spend a weekend with him at the point. As you know, undergrads don’t get much free time in their first year but seeing as his company commander Ron Wetmore was my roommate at the point in 63, I might be able to get DJ a “special assignment” for a few days.” The general smiled.

Speaking of special assignments, I want you to keep me wired in on that group we discussed back in June. We named the file Saih. What do we have in the way of updates on that group?”

Pretty thin as of the last thirty days sir. We did manage to get our operative in country bribe some border guards into getting some photographs and fingerprints.”

“You amaze me Captain. How did you manage that?

“Required identification for all students crossing the Iranian border sir. They fell for it and we lined up all twenty six of them and got positive I.D. Our asset there informs us that the leader never reported it so far as he knows because it would show he was asleep at the switch by letting the Iranian guys do this. We have run all the prints and there is no record or problems with any of the group as of this date. One interesting aspect of tracing their family records developed an interesting bit of info.

“And that is ,…what?” asked the General as he took a second cup of morning coffee from the tray.

“The kid they have named “the goat” has a pretty famous grandpa.”

“Goat? These individuals already have their Mujahideen names? So who is his grandfather?”

“None other than Izzat Lbrahim al Duri”

“What is the reliability factor on that intel? Do we know this as of when? Christ you would think that the guys in third army G2 and our DIA would be shadowing every move this kid makes. How did he get across the border?”

“Well, it appears that when they named him “the goat” he got pretty angry and said his grandfather would be ashamed of him with a name like that. When asked who his granpa was he replied Izzat…… and then caught himself. Our asset reported that and DIA tracked him back from where they picked him up in Tikrit. Checks out so far as we can tell. He doesn’t seem to get any special favors in the group so maybe his bosses don’t know of his bloodline.”

“We know anything about the stuff they are training these guys?”

“Usual indoc stuff for the first six months or so. Playing with their heads and pumping up the glory of killing yourself for the future of Islam and the whole six yards with the seventy two virgins waiting on them story.”

“Keep me wired on this Tom. I don’t know for sure where they are going to put me when I report to the pentagon but I’d like to be someplace in counter terrorism and this could be useful. By the way. How did the kid get the name “goat” anyway. Any idea?”

“No details from our asset on that but when you look at the guys photo its not hard to guess. He has a goatee and his eyebrows are heavy and turn up like horns”

“Ok Tom. Good work on staying abreast of those tangos and where they are. Don’t for christs sake let them get out of sight or lose that asset with all that info. These guys are up to no good and have a definite plan in mind.”

“Will do General.”

*Chapter 4

Nawabshsh Pakistan  Museum Sah Kabarsa

December, 1998

Adib was resplendent in his American tailored Brooks three piece and his Alan Edmond  four hundred dollar shoes. He turned heads of both men and women in the entrance of the museum as he signed in to see the exhibition of the jewels of King Solomon that was to be displayed only three days in  this remote city of  Nawabshsh . It was not enough that the museum was built on grounds that made it hard to get to from any of the hotels in town, it also had some very steep steps to climb to get to the special exhibition rooms. He was again reminded how out of condition he really was. If this was three years prior he would have climbed the steps without even a  bit of perspiration . At that time he had just finished his training in Kabul and was on his way to the university in the United States. His father had set the plan for his son to follow for the next fifteen years in order to keep the family name in front of the powers  in the international banking world. His identity as that of a member of a sleeper cell for the Taliban had been well protected. He traveled throughout the world using commercial air transportation with no problems.

She was just entering the viewing area when he glanced her way. He stopped and had to look again. Yes, it was  Sadaqua. She had not changed that much in the past three years and still had the unmistaken poise in her walk that separated her from all the American girls he knew at the university. She was beautiful and apparently, alone here.

He maneuvered closer in back of her and in a voice as calm and without a trace of his Pakistani accent he said; “Fight on for USC and on to victory”

When she wheeled around  to see where the voice came from, he continued; “You meet the nicest people in these cultural centers. One of the reasons I frequent one whenever I am in town. Hello Sadaqua.”

“Adib!”

“You remember my name. I sincerely hope you remember our friendship dear classmate of 1995”

“I can not believe that it is you! You have not aged a bit handsome one!”

“Still the silver tongued politician as ever Doctor Altaf. It is good to see you. May I join you as we review these beautiful treasures from the past?”

“I’d like that Adib. We have much to talk about. I last heard of you when I was reading a newspaper in Britain. You have been making quite a name for yourself in the banking world. All good I sincerely hope?”

“Unless you are one of my competitors seeking to lower the currency exchange.” Adib smiled.

The two college friends continued through the museum and then over coffee Sadaqua related how she had entered the university there in Nawabshsh as a research technician. Her department had been given a grant to research a certain characteristic  of cancer cells during metastasis. She invited Adib to visit her lab the following day at the university if he was to be in town?

“I was to leave early in the morning dear lady but I can not pass the opportunity to see your world that has kept you from meeting and marrying a rich professor” He chided as they parted.

Her laboratory was nothing less than spectacular when it came to equipment and facilities. There were spectrophotometers, computers and  MRI machines along with a myriad of  electron microscopes. All this was surrounded with lab cages and animals.

“Quite a zoo you have here Sadaqua.” Adib said as he peered into a cage that held two monkeys with shaved heads.

“We have a track on a process within the animal world of survival that may offer great rewards.”

“Survival?”

“The different values of how venom proceeds through the circulation system. In some cases and certain animals, the proteinaceous action is amazingly fast.”

“You mean how quick one of these nice little reptiles can kill you.-right?”

“Actually not so much HOW they can kill, it’s the speed or the metastasis of the venom . For instance, see this little green fellow here? She pointed to a glass cage that contained a very small green viper not more than six inches long.

“He can kill a water buffalo in less than two minutes after injection.”

“Incredible.” Remarked Adib.

“I have heard that those little guys have a terrific punch that paralyzes the nervous system.” Continued Adib.

“We thought it was the nervous system also until we did some micro analysis of the process that kills his prey. Its actually a process that immediately removes all oxygen from the victims blood stream red cells. Without oxygen to muscles, brain cells and vital organs, all systemic functions cease.”

“I’m impressed.” Said Adib.

I’m glad there are not many of these little fellows crawling around in our world with that kind of potential.”

“In reality, we found that it is possible to duplicate the venom metastasis synthetically. We do not need to use the animal. Even when diluted the synthetic venom carries a lethal punch. We are attempting to use that process in a controlled release that is activated by another chemical or hormone.” Sadaqua was involved in her work and enjoyed relating what the University was doing to assist in the research for cancer but Adib had to leave to catch his flight.

When  Quantas flight 1209 reached cruising altitude, Adib laid his seat back and prepared to catch some rest before they arrived in Zurich. He thought of how nice it was to see Sadaqua again and secondly, how this relationship and her work could prove very beneficial to him and his acquaintances. Very beneficial indeed.

Chapter 5

Intelligence work requires patience and focus

Mazar I Sharif Afghanistan itself was a good sized city but the camp and training area was a hundred and twenty kilometers from there. It was hot, dry and very remote. Haydar and not seen others with the exception of new recruits arriving and the people that occasionally brought food and supplies for many months. His training had moved from the classroom instructions in Iran where he was taught the meaning of the true believers and the ways of the Mujahideen to this desolate wasteland He never cared for the food that he and his comrades were given at this place or the living conditions. There was an argument going on in the next sleeping cubicle and the participants were yelling at each other and hitting the wall and moving furniture As he lay back and placed his arms over his head trying to go to sleep, he thought back over the past few years since he had seen his mother and closed his eyes. He was back at the warehouse in Iran with his friends.

“You have never had the experience of flying on one of the great aircraft we see in the sky over our encampment have you Engineer?” Asked the man that was to be in charge of moving the twelve “students” to their next location. “No master but I am not afraid. I want to have the experience so I can tell my mother the circles I am traveling in. she thinks I am begging on the streets of this country and living in alleys.” Haydar had not had a letter from his mother in the past five months and even then she exhibited her disgust that lingered from his choice to join this group now two years ago.

The distance from Mashhad to Mazar I Sharif  was not that far but the purpose of the trip provided the opportunity to request a passport and further establish his identity. It had taken several weeks and many trips into the city to present the required papers to the Iranian authorities and have his photograph taken once again. He noticed while looking at the two photographs taken some months apart how he had changed. He looked much older than his twenty years. He compared the photo that was taken at the border when they crossed and this one. There was definitely a difference. The passport and visa were stamped “student” in a very noticeable typeface and in his “next of kin” area on the passport was a name and address he had never seen before. He was not comfortable with the fact that his group of friends were now narrowed down to the twelve he was to travel with.

At the airport he wanted to stay in the large terminal with the clean marble floors forever. It was air-conditioned and smelled fresh even with the multitude of humanity that was waiting on flights, carrying baggage and buying tickets.

The master held all the tickets and passports for the group. When the tickets were purchased and it was necessary to personally match the passport photograph with the person, the master called the student’s name and each in turn presented their self to the agent as their name was called. All bordered the Air Afghanistan flight with no problems. Even in the security line, the students were passed promptly and preceded to the area to board their flight.

It was at this airport that Haydar saw for the first time in three years, an American soldier. He was on the same flight as the group and was seated across from Haydar and the “Goat.”

The master did not come on the flight. He left the students group just before they went thru security. He waited to see that they were all in the boarding area and then on the aircraft. He left as Air Afghanistan flight 3701powered down the runway and into the sky.

“Masa Alkhar” Said the American solder in perfect Farsi to Haydar.

Haydar as well as the Goat about swallowed their crackers the hostess had given them whole when they heard the sergeant look at them. .Haydar calmly returned the greeting;

“Masa Alnur”

“Is this your first flight ? Asked the American, again in farsi.

Haydar was now in a very unfamiliar position. He had been instructed by the master what to answer if asked any questions in the terminal and not to talk to strangers but this was a direct question from this infidel that Haydar had not expected. He decided to do as his training in Iran instructed. Do not attract attention and do not volunteer information. He decided to engage in conversation that his friend the Goat would not understand. Haydar knew that the Goat’s English was poor and he was very slow to understand the words even when spoken distinctly and slow. Haydar knew that both he and the goat would go through a “debriefing” on this encounter when they arrived in Mazar I Sharif.

“I am a student of engineering and seen these aircraft many time in the sky but, yes, this is the first time I have traveled on one.” Said Haydar in what he considered very good English. Suddenly, he realized that the other students that had been watching the encounter between him and the American were quiet and very much attuned to their conversation.

“Your English is perfect. Do you use it very often in your university or where you are going to school?” asked the American. This time in English.

“It is a part of my education. Yes.” Answered Haydar

“Are you camped in Mazar I Sharif?” Asked Haydar of the American.

“You mean am I STATIONED here in this area? Yes. I train the local police recruits.” Answered the American.

“Perhaps we will meet again then Sergeant in Mazar. Now I think I will take a bit of sleep as we have had a very long journey.” Haydar thought he had ended the conversation well and the American asked no further questions. Only a warm “good-bye” as they parted at the terminal

When the group arrived at their destination they were met by an instructor that they had all seen before. Abdid al-salmar. This man us one of the most feared men within the tribal organization of Osama . He had been compared to and described as  the modern day Gestapo head. With little or no rebuttal, accused recruits and seasoned mujahedeen veterans, accused of spying or being unfaithful to the cause were eliminated. There were horrid stories of the torture they had withstood before their death that made recruits look at this person as a devil.

It took only a brief period of time for Abdid to hear of Haydar’s conversation with the American on the plane.

He was separated from the group when they arrived at the camp he was led to a small room where there were three of the older instructors from the camp that Haydar had known before. They were all trained insurgents and had killed many infidels, it was known.

“You were given instructions before you got on the airplane about talking to strangers-right?” The older, taller and very thin master started the questioning.

“I was given the seat that I was in by the airline and the American said good morning to me in my language. What was I supposed to do? Ignore him and possibly insult him?”

The second instructor that had been sitting on the side of the room on a wooden chair absolutely flew out of the chair at Haydar across the room. Haydar remembered being hit on his jaw by what he thought was a bar but it was the man’s fist.’

“You will not question our reasons or use such disrespect to the master in your replies, insolent one.” The man was furious.

The questioning continued for two hours and then he was left in the room alone. It was the first time Haydar had been struck in the face in many years. The last time he remembered it was during an argument in the schoolyard and both students had been taken to the masters office and their parents had to come take them home. The welt that was raising on Haydar’s face made him think and have concern.

Just then, he had the shock of his life

Through the door came the feared Abdid and he was not smiling.

“They call you the Engineer, is that correct ?” He was looking at Haydar very quizzically as if he was trying to place his face or something.

“Yes master”

“You had many friends in school I am told. They say you were a very popular person with your classmates and teachers.”

“I enjoyed the friendship of many during that time of my life.”

“You speak as if that was a long time ago and you have made some different decisions since then.”

“I am a true believer master and I want to serve in the army of Osama with honor.”

I’m sure you do. I believe you have the potential to serve our cause in a very responsible mission considering your young years.”

Haydar can hear the master continue to tell him what he has in mind for him to accomplish to prove his convictions and commitment to the cause. He was taken back to his sleeping area where none of his fellow students asked about his swollen face or what had taken place in the room. The goat came over and was trying to explain that he had no choice but to tell them all that he had heard in his conversation with the American.

“I have no problem with your loyalty Goat. I would have found it necessary to do they same had I been in your place. No problems.”

It was the following day that there was much rejoicing around the camp as the masters placed a small television set in the largest room in the camp and assembled all of the students and masters to see what had transpired in New York City on that morning. It was September 11,2001.

The argument next door became quiet and the room noise ceased. Haydar adjusted himself to his opposite side and fell asleep.

Haydar’s group consisted of seven other students in addition to himself. All had had completed the training both in Iran and the isolated camp here in Afghanistan. They were all trained in explosives and how to figure the force of a given blast from the materials used. They were also trained in the skills needed to make explosive devices from several commercially available products.

Their new training was now was in a much more relaxed and comfortable atmosphere. The classroom had a television set at one end with several desks around it. It was not for entertaining it was for training in the ways of the American way of life.

Several language tapes were used every day that were designed to teach foreigners perfect dialect free English. All of Haydar’s group spoke English very well but this training was just to keep them sharp in the slang terms they may run up against in their effort to blend into the American social environment

The entire group were housed in a remote section of the camp and had meals specially prepared and were exposed to an atmosphere of that which would be found in any American city. They had discarded their djellabas and started wearing western style pants and shirts in order to get used to the dress. They were all ordered to start shaving on a daily basis as well. They could keep a small goatee if they desired but the full beards had to go. This made the Goat happy as he did not want to lose his immaculately trimmed goatee.

Haydar had never been told what his mission was going to be but when the dark master Abdid selected him as leader for this special group, he knew in his mind it would be soon and one of honor. Perhaps his group would be as famous as the heroes that completed the Trade Center mission?

Chapter 6

Biological lessons in spying on the unsuspecting.

Sadaqua was very pleased with the way that her work had progressed and was hopeful that they would soon be able to complete one of the most meaningful research projects within her project. They had to find a way to control the  speed in which the compound accelerated through the tissue of the patient. The university had recently been given funding for additional research and the benefactor had specifically named the cancer project as the intended recipient of the majority funding. They had even given Sadaqua an additional laboratory assistant that was to report to her just this morning..

Badra Husna parked her small  much used VW car in the university parking lot for the laboratory and exited after grabbing her small briefcase. She thought that on her first day it would be more appropriate to wear the black pants suit and low cuts than “scrubs” or her favorite-Levis and tennis. Badra smiled to herself as her mind wondered over to the lite side as she thought; perhaps they think I will come into the laboratory this first day wearing a Burqua because I am a Pakistani?

The two women exchanged pleasantries and then  related their education and family backgrounds. By lunchtime it was obvious that the two would work together well and possibly become great friends.

The second day in the lab Badra was given a briefing on the status of the research project. She appeared very interested in all aspects of the research and their progress especially the production of the deadly venom which was known in the lab as “437X”. By the second day, Badra knew all there was to know about how 437X was synthesized .

Chapter 6

An amazing discovery starts the ball rolling

There was not a lot of terrorist activity to deal with within the city of Mazar I Sharif but sergeant Bill Prestin brought his new recruits into action in force whenever possible in order to give them  real time training. Training classes in air conditioned classrooms were good but nothing beats good in-the-field hands-on training.

That is what his group was doing today.

“Rattlesnake-you still have the nest in sight?” It was Prestin talking to the captain of his recruit group.

“Cowboy, we have five images on our IR scan that are inside the house. It would appear that there are two floors to this little shack because two of the images are lower than the rest. Wait a minute Sarge, we are getting some RF emissions on our other scan. It looks like we might have something very interesting here. They evidently have a radio or a satellite computer.”

“Cowboy to rattlesnake—hold that surveillance and see if you can record any of those RF emissions coming from there. Look especially for designator codes-you know what I mean. I’m moving to your position in five-out.”

The top instructor of the police recruits was excited but calm. Prestin had missed the heavy action he had been engaged in doing evasion analysis of tangos in Iraq. The police recruit training job came by way of a CENTCOM

recommendation. His work in Baghdad and the surrounding area finding how tangos moved out of the area of engagement and into the local population earned him a reputation and a name.-- Cowboy.--He liked to use this as an operative name whenever possible. On his first tour in Iraq the cop from San Antonio Texas knew he had found his calling. He studied the language and dialects intensely so that he could communicate more directly with his students than using one of the interpreters that were available to force personnel. His students soon realized that Prestin was a very focused individual and demanded the best from his action group. Prestin was” innovative and resourceful” . This was the description in his package that was sent to CENTCOM when the request went out to commands for recommendations for this top spot in Afghanistan On his first month in Iraq he was assigned to the IED tracking unit SWUMED. When the company commander asked for input during a morning briefing, Prestin stood up and asked permission to put forth an idea on how to decrease the number of IED using cell phones as detonators. The Commander gave Prestin the floor.

“Tangos are using about six different makes of cell phones in their detonators. These are French, Italian and U.S. makes and basically the same circuitry. Very few are satellite and most are using the local network powered by a switchwork that is pretty basic and common. There are only three network providers in all of Baghdad that all the cells here use. My suggestion is, we set up a plan to ring every cell in the circuit all at one time on a given hour. This may only detonate the cells that are attached to IEDS presently or those in place but it will sure give Gomer thoughts on the reliability of using phones on detonators. He will never know when the phone will ring on this test. It may just happen to ring while he is making his little piece of handy work in his living room.”  The idea worked and earned Prestin a commendation for his efforts.  The second commendation came to Prestin for his work with the Iraqi local police. The problem was getting the locals to report sightings of individuals placing the IEDs and booby traps in their respective neighborhoods. Force leaders knew that the locals had to be witness to the Taliban digging holes in the roadside and disguising bombs in old cars parked alongside the road. It was obvious that someone had to see this. It just went unreported until someone was killed.  The operation took only one week to increase the amount of calls to CENTCOM local police headquarters by thirty percent when locals saw Gomer placing explosives in their neighborhood. It was a pretty simple and basic plan. After one of the IED had exploded in an outlying neighborhood wounding several Iraqi police in a van, the area was evacuated around the detonation site for five hundred yards. The local police and U.S. forces made much ado of the evacuation procedures and made sure there was sufficient population watching when they leveled everything within the five hundred yard sight line to the area. All of the buildings and structures within the five hundred yards were leveled. The local population was told that this would be done whenever an IED was detonated in an ambush. The way to keep your neighborhood intact was to call the authorities when you saw strangers doing unusual excavation work in your block.  

“Headshed to cowboy; are you putting a hold on the ops?” It was the boss calling to see why the tactical unit had been told to hold their position. The tactical unit was comprised of two Bell HU2 special equipped light helicopters with troopers standing on the rails ready to rappel onto a rooftop and take down any resistance on the roof that may cause the assault force on the street any problems. They were especially small for a military craft but very lethal in operation. 

“Affirm head shed. Advise sparrows to stand-down until we get additional info on this location. It is not your usual suburban household if you get the meaning. Over”

“Roger cowboy-your call. When you have firm intel call us back –pronto. Head shed out.”

Prestin was climbing up the back stair to the building where rattlesnake had set up his OP. He called his unit squad leaders and told them to stay out of sight as much as possible and stay away from the building under observation.

“What made you push the hold button Amur?” Asked Prestin of the young Iraqi laying on his stomach and looking thru field glasses at his discovery.

“Take a look at the five IR images and then check the RF activity. This is a very active little bungalow boss.”

Prestin gave the building a close inspection. The guy on the roof was just sitting there by the wife’s laundry drying and flapping in the breeze---so it appeared at first glance. On closer inspection you could see that under his djellabas was an automatic weapon and that there was an insulator on the clothesline attachment to the building. The wire clothesline was actually a hi freq antenna. That was the only visible tango outside the building. The other four images were all in one spot apparently in a sub floor location. Checking the RF emissions on the RF3708  Rand monitor, there was a lot of activity on three channels. They evidently had a switch control as the emissions would shift from one frequency to other every ten seconds. This would keep most tracking devices in the dark but the Rand unit had been developed for just this type of emission detection

“What is this?” Asked Prestin pointing at a sine wave on the monitor.

The technician working with rattlesnake replied; “Internet—these guys have a wireless broadband or a satellite unit working. I can’t get a good fix on the exact channel but it looks like a chat room.”

“A CHAT ROOM?” Prestin was astounded.

“Yes sarge, it looks like one of the teen age yakety yak 24/7 web sites. I can’t get what they are typing or saying but it looks like a chat room for sure.”

“Can we monitor what they are saying with different equipment?” Asked Prestin.

“A laptop sarge. We could match the freq here with the I.P and back it out but its probably in Pashi or Urdu. We’d need an  interceptor that spoke the language.”

“Ok. Stay hooked up to everything they are transmitting and feed it back to head shed. I’m going to set up a special task force at headquarters to direct this operation. Right now, I’m going to get you two some cami cover here and a watch rotation. Make sure that tango on the roof does not see you or the game is over. Roger?”

“Gotcha Sarge. If you send some chow and some water over with our relief, we can stay here on this rooftop and keep the activity down to a minimum.”

Rattlesnake was thinking like a leader. His parents were Iraqi and Brit and he had a very good command of the English language as well as Arabic. Prestin was impressed with his dedication to his job

“Good thinking Abduar. I’ll advise as soon as I get some face to face time with head shed. Hang tight.” With that, Cowboy exited the building and climbed into the humvee three blocks away. As he returned to the vehicle, he surveyed the area to see how many locals had seen him climb the building stairs to the rooftop. It was afternoon prayer and all the men were either inside of in a shaded area doing their prayers. He felt confident it would look to the locals like it was just another American patrol checking out the local  neighborhood and leaving. Then the idea came to him. He went back to the communications unit that was in the group of three vehicles . He took two of the battery powered mini cam videos and walked across the street to a shop that had been abandoned after a recent firefight. Inside the building he looked out onto the street and at the building across the street where his two men were located on the roof. It was perfect. The camera would feed a constant image to head shed of any street activity and cover rattlesnakes six. He placed the others at the base of the stairs. Prestin then had his men make a cover for the observers on the roof to hide under from a canvas cover that was in the Humvee .They were even fortunate to find a fan that could be placed under the cover for some air movement for the observation crew.

“Good decision Sergeant. We will use this little tango scorpion pit as a convenient collection platform and see what we can catch.” It was Col. Branding, Preston’s boss talking. The colonel turned to an aide and continued issuing orders. “Get this feed to Langley and also have the guys flying the Rapto patrol do a surveillance report on each pass they make over the scorpion pit. Depending on what priority Langley puts on this discovery, they may decide to task a satellite to get in on the act .” The Colonel then issued a heads-up to the other units in the area not to get close to the scorpion pit with their patrols. He wanted these guys to think that they were on their own little planet doing their thing without anyone watching or knowing they existed.

When Langley received the encrypted message that this small police group had uncovered what they considered a major intelligence find, the event caught the attention of the deputy director. His morning briefing outlined what resources they had assembled and a preliminary report on what some of the first transmissions from the scorpion pit were. The DD immediately decided that this was an excellent opportunity to turn the task over to the new agency just created within homeland security to coordinate intelligence gathered in different countries. The agency was given the designation DOCIS-Department of cooperative Intelligence Sources. It was headed by a Brigadier General that had a lot of time in the Middle East working with the various forces and was now assigned to the Pentagon. Brigadier General Tomas Jacobs

 Chapter 7

West Point Virginia. East campus

The cell rang twice with the familiar ring and D J smiled as he acknowledged the call from his best friend, Abdul Matlin. Abdul had stuck amazingly well to the plan that he expressed to DJ now over almost five years prior. Abdul had obtained a scholarship to Georgetown University and then moved to the United States where he stayed in D J’s room at his parents new home. He was in the process of moving out now and was going to take post grad courses at Georgetown. D J had made a name for himself and his family by graduating from the point last year with an unheard of 3.7 GPA. That placed him at the number five position and made his father Brigadier Tomas Jacobs very proud.

“Did you get the van and the truck for this weekend buddy?” DJ asked his friend.

“Everything cool DJ. I have two buddies that are coming along to help us so long as there is enough beer to keep their attention.”

“Ok. I think you know Lester? He will be with me so this should be a short operation. I was over there last night and the place is pretty well aired out—no fresh paint odor.”

“Ok DJ, I’ll have the van and the truck here at the house and meet you here soon as you leave the point.” The two had rented a place in Georgetown away from the main village but close enough to be close to the nightlife. D J was doing post grad work at the point working with a research team from a contractor much respected in the military community as  a very hi tech explosives supplier. He hung up the phone and returned to the classroom.

“Before I enter into the discussion of the product we call simply N12, We need to review the basics of explosives, explosive forces and how they work. I know this is basic to many of you but what you are going to learn here this afternoon is a very different principle of physics when it comes to ordnance” The representative started the class thinking with that statement.

“Explosives are substances that, through chemical reaction, rapidly and violently change to gas, accompanied by high temperatures, extreme shock and a loud noise. An explosion is the process of the substance transforming into the gaseous state.  “

Explosives are classified as low or high according to the detonating velocity or speed at which this change takes place and other characteristics such as their shattering effect. In all chemical explosions, the changes that occur are the result of combustion or burning. The difference between a stick of dynamite and a burning log is the rate of combustion.

The velocity of instantaneous combustion has been measured for most explosives and is referred to as the detonation velocity of the explosive. Detonation velocities of high explosives range from 3,300 feet per second to over 29,000 FPS. To bring this speed down to our terms, -if we took a five-mile length of garden hose and filled it with a high explosive and then detonated one end of the hose, it would take only one second for the chemical reaction to reach the other end of the hose.

The representative instructor went on to discuss the effect of blast pressure waves and positive and negative phases of the explosion.

“We are going to take a field trip tomorrow over to the department of Homeland Security where we will continue this instruction and also witness a live demonstration of  what N12 will do in comparison to the highest power explosives used presently, namely Simtex, RDX and C4.”

D J immediately cornered his captain after the class and requested permission to separate from the class tomorrow so that he could have morning breakfast with his dad at his office. He would then join the group and continue his class work. The Captain was almost anxious to let one of his students have breakfast with the Brigadier General.

This was ideal. DJ could have his dad’s aide pick him up at his barracks and he could stay with his parents that night and ride in to “work” with his dad in the morning. He would then return to the point with his group. Cool.

“We will have a guest at our breakfast table DJ that is anxious to meet you.” Said D J’s dad.

“Someone I know Dad?”

Laughingly the General replied; “Well, its someone you should get to know. The acquaintance may turn out to your advantage some day.. We’ll split eggs Benedict with Charlie Peterson-the director of Homeland security. Tomorrow at 0645”.

“Our uniform of the day for this trip tomorrow is BDU Camis. Considering this guest, should I wear my class a’s instead?” Asked D J.

“There will be others in the officers mess wearing BDUs DJ no problem. Remember, a lot of us never know when we will need to move to a tactical atmosphere in this job.”

The general’s driver slowed and stopped at the gate to Langley and presented the General’s and D J’s identification. “Brigadier General Tomas Jacobs and Lieutenant Westly Jacobs  the ID cards read. The sentry looked in the back of the car at DJ and waved the vehicle to the next checkpoint. Here the General gave the guard a different ID and signed DJ in as his guest.

The officer’s mess was beautiful and opulent for a military and government dining facility. Their butts had no sooner hit the seat than a steward was at their side pouring coffee.

When Charlie Peterson joined D J and his father, it took only a few minutes of conversation between the three for DJ to feel relaxed around such horsepower in the U S Government. They chatted about the difference in living in base housing overseas and suburban Virginia, the football season and families. Director Peterson had just gotten into talking to DJ about his past four years and how proud his dad was that he had graduated twenty spots closer to the top than the General did when he attended the point. The steward came over to the General and whispered in his ear. He then turned and a young Captain approached the table. He handed a folder to the General which was opened and read while the Captain stood at ease a few steps back from the table.

“Thank you Captain, I’ll be along shortly. I think my driver just sat down to eat. Would you please let him know that I will need to leave in about ten minutes?”

“Yes General.” The Captain left the room to look for the General’s driver.

“Duty calls even at the breakfast table eh General?” smiled the Director.

“Well, we are a little short on language people so far and I have to find me a Pashtun to read some data that my guys are having trouble with.”

“Dad, what is it they need? Don’t tell me you forgot my friend  Izat that I went to school with in Pakistan. He taught me a lot of Pashtu.”

The General asked; “What is a dunjar and what is a kasblanah D J you have any idea?”

D J smiled and took the piece of paper that was in the folder and wrote next to the word dunjar  skateboard and then by the word kasblanah  a paki  internet chat room called In my back yard

“Looks like your people are talking to some young Pakistani kids on the net dad.” Was D J’s reply.

The Director was amazed. He had watched this entire situation unravel and come to a conclusion within minutes. It would still be a question if this young Lt. had not stepped in and volunteered his help.

“Tom, I think you had better take your son here with you when you go back to work. Seriously. I don’t know where he is supposed to be after breakfast but if there is any problems getting him lose to go to your area, give me a call.”

The General and D J left the dining area and headed to the DOCIS headquarters as the Director returned to his office in the white house.

Chapter 8

Training camp-thirty five k outside Mazr I Sharif

Haydar’s group now consisted of himself and seven other Mujahideen  that had been together for the past three years. They all had received the same military training and in the past three months had entered into the “special” mission training that had come from the supreme leader as they were told.

This morning they were introduced to a new instructor that was tasked with getting the group briefed on communications and evasion of authorities. The eight young men were loaded into one large white van and headed for the city. The goat made the first comment in respect to their appearance “ I hope we are not ambushed by the hill people on the way into town. Without our beards and dressed in the western shirts and pants, we look like American contractors.”

“Do not worry Goat. This van is known to all within our brotherhood and it will not be challenged. It is good however that you think of such things. You must always keep your guard up and think as the enemy would if you are to be successful in your mission.”

The new instructor was more friendly than any of the militants that had been in charge of them in the past. He was from California in the United States and had been with the Taliban for the past eight years. He went by the simple name of Raj. No code name or last name just Raj. He spoke English very well and was to be the person that they would, talk with from this day forward according to Raj.

“We are going to a very special location today to learn the basics of how we will communicate once you are in place away from here.” Raj detailed how members would use the internet and cell phones to communicate. It was very clever Haydar thought. The Americans and British would not suspect that the army of Osama would use teen age chat rooms for contact medium. The text messages could be sent on the cell phones and erased immediately possibly before anyone monitoring the channel could track the number

After about two hours after leaving the camp, the van entered the city. The driver stopped several times and they all left the van and were told to observe if anything or anyone appeared to be watching them. They were told to observe the locals and see if any looked out of place or were looking at the group suspiciously. The second time the van stopped and the students disembarked, Haydar noticed they were in a very depressed section of the city. The marketplace for the neighborhood had very little food and not many people milling around. Something caught the eye of Haydar. It was the beggar. He was on the corner when the van parked but now he was approaching the group of students asking for hand outs. He was not successful in getting any of the students to answer his begging so then he sat down by the back wheel of the van. Haydar moved over by Raj and motioned for him to come inside the shop they were standing next to. Raj entered the shop and looked at Haydar with a puzzled  frown on his face.

“Why do you want to bring me in here away from the group Haydar?” He asked.

“The beggar. Look closely at him Raj.”

“He is harmless, he wants only to get some money for more opium .”

“No, he is listening to our conversations closely.”

“What makes you s