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Monday, March 18, 2013



Of Gods and Thunder
By Chuck Semenuk

            Agent Trent Barrows looked up at the brilliant blue sky and took a deep breath.  After a lengthy, miserable Great Lakes winter that just didn’t want to quit, the warm sun and gentle breeze did wonders for his morale. 

Trent worked out of the Buffalo, New York field office of Homeland Security.  The Buffalo and Niagara borders with Canada were his primary work assignments.  The incidence of illegal entry through the Canadian border, and weapons smuggling was growing at an alarming rate.  Canadian border agents were detaining many but a large number still managed to find their way across.  Once they reached the general population on the American side, they easily blended in making it difficult to identify them.  Sometimes, Trent’s enthusiasm for his job began to wane.  With all of the corruption and political shenanigans going on inside the various government agencies, it was often hard to tell the difference between the “good guys” and “bad guys.”  The President and his crooked cronies had succeeded in drastically dragging the country down financially and morally in his first term.  Despite tales of obvious voter fraud, he was well into his second term.   The major media sources were in his pocket and the public knew very little of the wheeling and dealing that went on behind closed doors in the big white house on Pennsylvania Avenue.  Even Congress was often left in the dark as he signed executive orders, more than the total of all previous presidents combined to further his own policies, public be damned.  Trent knew that we needed to be continuously vigilant for possible terrorist attacks on our own soil but he had lost faith in the Washington leadership.  They were more interested in promoting their own agenda, making their point with sometimes totally outrageous lies while lining their pockets in the process.  Trent considered leaving the agency but a belief that he could still possibly make a positive difference kept him going.

Having parked his car outside of the Buffalo field office, Trent entered and went to the office of the Director of Buffalo Field Operations.  The Director’s secretary Sarah looked up from her work and smiled.

“Good morning, Agent Barrows.  It’s so nice of you to visit us poor folks today,” she smiled.

Trent laughed, “I thought I’d drop in and brighten your day a bit.  I wouldn’t want you to feel neglected,” he quipped.    “I received your message that the boss wanted to see me.  What’s going on?”

Sarah put her finger up to her lips.  “Sh-sh-sh!  Secret stuff.  They don’t share with me,” she grinned.

She picked up her phone and announced him to the Director.  “You can go in now.  I think he hustled the party girls out the back door,” she laughed.

Since the formation of Homeland Security after 9/11, Jack Muller began to climb the ladder.  He was a master of schmooze and made his way from a rookie agent to Director quickly.  He seemed to be a straight up guy but Trent had gotten to where he found it difficult to trust those in high positions.  Was Jack faithful to America or was he a pawn of the destructors in Washington?


“Hello Trent.  Have a seat.  I’ll be right with you.”  Jack Muller spoke into the telephone, “Jerry, I have Trent Barrows with me now.  Are you still free to meet with us?”  Jack hung up the phone. 

“Trent, nice work capturing that van with the assault rifles last week.”

“Thanks.  The Canadian border officer alerted me that the driver seemed unusually nervous but there was nothing really obvious that they could detain him on.  We dogged him awhile once he got on the Interstate.  We made sure that he knew we were following him and it made him nervous enough to start weaving in traffic.  That gave us an excuse to pull him over and start checking out his papers and van.  He had hidden the rifles inside the seat cushions, and then covered the seat bottoms with a layer of burlap; tying wire across to keep it all together.  At a glance, it would look just like the cushion bottom.  We think he’s connected with a sleeper cell that we’re just starting to hear things about.”

Agent Jerry Daniels entered the office and sat down.

“I believe you two know one another?” asked Jack.

“We trained together with the FBI at Quantico,” said Jerry.

Trent laughed, “Yeah, we often got to beat on each other as part of our self defense training.  I’d hate to have to take him on now.”

Jerry laughed and shook his head in agreement.

“What are you doing up here in God’s country?” joked Trent.

“I recently transferred up from the Arizona Border Patrol office.  I was getting kind of tired of frijoles and tacos.”
Jack cleared his throat.  “Well, let’s get down to business.  Other field offices are having similar discussions with their agents.  Trent, I want to bring you on board to partner with Jerry.  Our various agencies have been picking up a lot of chatter; something bad may be coming our way but we don’t know what, where or when.  The July 4th holiday is coming up in a couple of weeks.  I’m thinking that it would be a good day for a terrorist event, but I may be wrong.”

“There is a lot of talk about some kind of ‘great snake’,” said Jerry.  We don’t know if it’s a weapon, or what.”

Trent’s brow furrowed.  “That’s a new one.  I can’t say I’ve ever heard it before.”

Jerry continued.  “The name ‘Hino’ comes up often.  It doesn’t show up on any of our terrorist watch lists but it sounds like he’s one of the key participants.  Maybe he’s somebody new that hasn’t reached our soil yet.”

Trent thought for a moment.  “I may be all wet but I have a scary idea.  I don’t think we’ll find Hino on any watch list.  Hino is the mythical God of Thunder that was worshipped by the Ongiaras Indian tribe of this area, way before the white man tried to Christianize them.  Unless I’m way off base, we may soon find ourselves in the hot seat.”

“I’m getting nervous already,” said Jack. 

“I’ve never been in this neck of the woods before,” said Jerry.  “I’m afraid that I don’t know much about your local legends.”

Trent continued, “As the story goes, the Ongiaras people were dying.  A giant snake lived in the lake above the falls and was poisoning the water.  It would then come down the river and devour the dead bodies. The tribe’s chief asked Hino, the God of Thunder to help them.  He was told to sacrifice the most beautiful young woman in the tribe.  They put the chief’s daughter Lelawala in a canoe and she went over the falls where she was allegedly saved by Hino’s sons.  According to one legend, Hino killed the giant snake with a bolt of lightning.  The daughter was known thereafter as ‘the Maid of the Mist’.  Versions of the legend vary but that’s basically it.”

            “Interesting story,” said Jack.  “How does it relate to a possible attack?”

Trent scratched at his chin.  “Well, since there’s been a lot of chatter about the giant snake I’m thinking that the snake may refer to the delivery system for a biological agent or maybe a dirty bomb.  There are always a large number of people at the Falls on the 4th of July.  Add to that, prevailing winds would carry the fallout over both, southern Ontario, Canada and northern New York State.  Any contaminants entering the water below the falls could probably travel all the way to Lake Ontario.”

Jack’s jaw tightened.  “Do you think these radicals would study a story like this just to get an idea for an attack?”

“You can’t take these people for granted,” said Trent.  Don’t forget that some of these guys are ‘home-grown’ converts.  You’d be surprised at how much they know about us.  In comparison, we don’t know squat about them.

“I’ll talk to the Canadian authorities and keep them apprised of your theory.  It looks like both the US and Canada are equally at risk.  If you end up being right, we need to have them on board.  They can work things from their side of the river.”

“The immediate body count would probably be minimal. However, large scale panic and economic issues with clean-up and a lack of returning tourists for both countries would give a terrorist group plenty to brag about,” remarked Jerry.  “We’re sitting right on the border of two major population centers.”

Jack’s phone rang.  “Hello.  Yes Sir.  I’m on my way.”

“I have another appointment.  You boys get on with your investigation.  Keep me in the loop on anything you find out.  If you need any muscle to open some doors, let me know.”

The men stood up to leave.  “We’ll keep you posted, Jack.  Come on, Jerry.  Let’s find a quiet place to talk,” said Trent.  “We can go to my desk.”

As they sat down at Trent’s desk he logged into his computer to check his e-mail messages.

“Great!  We have an ID on the guy I caught last week trying to smuggle some weapons across the border.  His name is Mujahid Robin, American birth name Samuel Robin; home grown in Rochester, New York.    He went missing soon after turning eighteen.    He eventually showed up again in al-Qaeda training camps in Yemen and Afghanistan.”

Jerry made some notes on the pad he always kept in his shirt pocket.  “It’s beginning to look as if your Maid of the Mist idea may be right.”

“I’ll go to the detention center and see if I can get any info out of him,” said Trent.  “Keep me apprised of anything new in the chatter department.  See if there are any reports of missing explosives, radioactive or biological material.”

“Roger that!  I’ll see you later.”

######
When Trent Barrows got to the detention center Mujahid Robin had already been taken to an interrogation room.  Checking his weapon with the officer at the door, he walked in and sat down across from the prisoner.   Mujahid glared at him.

“Well Mujahid, how are you this fine day?  I trust our people are catering to your needs?”

He knew that his comment would rile the man up.

“You can act smug all you want, pig; your blood will soon be in the gutter where it belongs,” he sneered.

Trent smiled at him.  “We’ll see about that.  Where were you going with the weapons that we found hidden in your van?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.  If there were weapons, your people put them there,” he said defiantly.

Changing direction, Trent leaned back and smiled.  “I heard that Osama cried like a baby when our people found him.  I heard that he pee’d his pants.  Is that right?”

Mujahid tightened his jaw and glared back, continuing his tough guy persona.  He refused to comment.

Trent got up as if to leave the room.  He stopped and leaned over Mujahid, their faces close together.  “Who is Hino?” he shouted.

The question seemed to startle Mujahid.  “We might be persuaded to make things easier on you if you tell me who he is.”

“You will find out who Hino is soon enough.  He will destroy you all.”

“I’ve heard that story before.  You and I will be old men except you’ll be rotting in prison.  No virgins for you in prison,” he smiled.”

Mujahid laughed.  “Fool.  It will be sooner than you think.”

“Guard!  Take him back to his cell.  We’re finished here.”

######
Trent went back to the field office and found Jerry at work trying to decipher the latest information obtained by stations monitoring radio and cell communications.

“Hi, Trent.  Did you learn anything from our guest?”

“Enough to re-enforce my belief that Hino is a real person and he’s a key player in this.  I’m also sure that whatever they’re planning will happen soon; the July 4th holiday would carry the most impact.  Anything new on your end?”

“Yeah, I almost missed it because I couldn’t understand the context of the sentences.  One side appears to be asking questions about altitude settings.  The answer given appears to be 475.  Do you think they might be dropping their device from a plane?”

Trent thought for a moment.

“Altimeters are calibrated in feet above sea level.  Assuming the Maid of the Mist legend, if the device is floated over the falls they intend to detonate at 475 feet above sea level.  The crest of the falls is 500 feet above sea level.  If they set things up so contacts on the altimeter apply voltage to a detonator, once it goes over, it will automatically detonate.”

“How would you float such a device from some entry point up river, over the falls to the location where you wanted it to go over?” said Jerry.  “Steering around all the little islands and through the rapids would be tough.”

“A jet boat would do the job.  They use them all the time in the lower river to shoot the rapids.  They have a very shallow draft and no protruding drive unit.  You can practically take one down the street after a heavy rain.”

“Do you think remote control or a human driver?” asked Jerry.

“These guys are big on suicide missions.  I’m guessing a driver and possibly someone riding shotgun.  Of course this whole scenario is all theory on my part.  Plus, we have no idea which side of the river they would launch from.  There are hundreds of private boat docks along both sides of the river and the big island.  We need to determine if someone’s missing any quantities of explosives and radioactive or biological material.  We’ll also have to find out if anyone’s recently acquired a jet boat.”

######
Trent pulled up to the field office of the Wierdon Construction Company.  As he was getting out of his car, he was met by a burley construction worker.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asked.

“I’d like to speak to Frank Thompson.”

“That would be me.  What do you want?”

Trent showed his ID.  “I’m Trent Barrows from the Buffalo office of Homeland Security.  We understand from your local sheriff that someone has stolen some C4 explosive from this site.”

“Yeah, it was taken from our storage shed.  I can’t pinpoint the date since we don’t go in there much when we’re not blasting.  Maybe a week ago.  Come inside and I’ll show you my list of missing materials.”

Once inside the office, Frank Thompson pulled a piece of paper from his file cabinet and handed it to Trent.

He looked up from the list. 
“Quite a bit of C4.  Electrical detonators too.  It’s hard to believe someone could run off with such a large amount of stuff without anyone being aware of it.  Don’t you have a watchman on duty when no one is here?”

“We used to but we caught him stealing tools a couple of weeks ago and fired him.  We just didn’t replace him.”

“I’ll need his name and address.”

Frank pulled a file from another drawer in the cabinet.
“Here it is.  His name is Shawan Burna.”

Trent copied the name and address into his note pad.
“Thanks for your help Mr. Thompson.  Here’s my card, please call me if you find anything else missing or if you see Shawan Burna.”

######
Trent and Jerry sat down at Jack Muller’s desk to go over all the events leading up to the current day.  Captain Harry McDowell of the Canadian Border Patrol was already there.
“Two days until July 4th.  I hope you boys have a plan,” said Jack. 
Trent sipped at a cup of coffee.  “We’re pretty sure that we know what the terrorists are planning.  How we’re going to stop it is another thing.  I’m sure that our legendary “snake” is a dirty bomb that will be steered over the falls with the intent of spreading radioactive contamination over the Canadian and US shorelines, from the Falls downstream.  There will also be radioactive contamination of the water below the falls which will flow down the river toward Lake Ontario.”

Jerry continued, “Over time, it looks as if someone has been stealing radioactive waste material from a storage site in Ohio; mostly Cobalt 60.”

“Where did this material come from?” asked McDowell. 

“It was used in industrial radiography applications and medical radiation therapy units,” replied Jerry.  “Co-60 has a half-life of approximately 5-1/4 years, meaning that its radioactivity decays by ½ every 5-1/4 years.”
Trent reviewed his notes.  “A quantity of C4 explosive material and detonators were stolen from a highway construction site about a week ago.  The perpetrator appears to be a man by the name of Shawan Burna.  We haven’t been able to find him.

A two man jet boat was stolen from a dealer in Wilson, New York three days ago.  I would guess that our terrorists have everything they need to celebrate our July 4th holiday.”

Jack rubbed his hands over his face.  “My God, what a nightmare!  Please tell me you have a plan for stopping this.”

Trent had another swallow of his coffee.  “We’ve not been able to sweat anymore info out of Mujahid Robin, Shawan Burna is in the wind, and we don’t have any leads on other possible members of this group.  Trying to patrol the upper river from Lake Erie to the Falls would be an impossible task.   I have an idea but it will require help from our Canadian friends.”

“Tell me what you need,” said McDowell.
Trent produced a map of the upper river.  “Captain McDowell, I’m thinking that if you can position your agents at the south end of Navy Island, you should be able to keep any boats or other objects from passing to either side.  A helicopter with mobile radiation detection equipment should be able to patrol the Canadian shoreline from Navy Island to the Falls in case the terrorists try to launch downstream of the island.”

“I think that would be do-able,” said McDowell.

“How about the branch on the east side of Grand Island,” asked Jack?

“We can set up radiation detectors pointed north from the tip of Buckhorn Island State Park and south from the Niagara Falls side next to the Parkway.  A chopper with detectors can scan the shoreline from Buckhorn downstream.  The State Highway Patrol and military should be able to help us out.  We should also patrol that stretch of Parkway heavily.  Jack, Jerry and I will need a two man jet boat that we can launch from Buckhorn.”

“You plan on chasing them?” asked Jack.

“I have no desire to be a modern day maid of the mist but we’ll do what we have to,” said Trent. 

######
July 4th dawned bright and clear.  Trent and Jerry had been at the monitoring site on Buckhorn since the previous evening.  Helicopters from Canada and United States were already in the air.  Jerry checked over his automatic rifle.

“Are you ready for this?” said Trent.

“I’m not looking forward to it.  Part of me wants this to be a figment of our imagination and part of me wants it to be over.”

“If it’s real, you and I might be the only thing between ‘the snake’ and all the people in the parks at the Falls.”

It was almost noon and the parks on both sides of the falls were filled with people.  Suddenly, a voice came over the radio.

“Agent Barrows, this is Canadian Border Patrol at Navy Island.”

“Go ahead, Navy Island.  This is Barrows.”

“We briefly detected a hit on the radiation monitor.  There was a boat headed downstream but it turned around and went back upstream when the occupants saw our blockade.  If that was your target, he’s probably going back around Grand Island and should be coming your way.”

“Roger that, Navy.  We’ll be waiting for them.”

Jerry was already headed for the jet boat.  Trent started the engine and they waited.  Soon, a boat came downstream.

“We’re detecting radiation.  This looks like your guy,” said the operator of the monitor on the opposite side of the river.  “Two people in the boat.”

Trent raised his binoculars.  “What a cocky SOB,” he exclaimed.

“What?”

“They painted the name ‘Lelawala’ on the side.  They knew we’d be waiting.”

Spotting Trent and Jerry in their boat, the terrorist pushed his throttle ahead and sped by.  Trent jammed the throttle ahead and sped after the ‘Lelawala’.  The man on the passenger side sprayed automatic rifle fire across the water towards Trent and Jerry.

“If we can stay just out of his range, maybe we can get him to waste some of his ammunition,” remarked Trent.  Trent zigzagged back and forth as the terrorist tried in vain for a good shot.

“He’s out of ammo.  Get me close before he reloads,” shouted Jerry.

Jack had provided them with a very fast boat and they began to close the distance quickly.  Trent now held the boat steady on as Jerry took careful aim.  Just as the shooter raised his weapon again, Jerry squeezed the trigger.  The shooter’s weapon dropped into the water as he slumped over.  The two boats were nearing Goat Island as Trent came alongside.  Having a more powerful boat he pushed against the starboard bow section of the terrorist’s boat, pushing him toward the island.  Nearing the bank, Trent cut the throttle and swerved right at the last minute, the terrorist’s boat slamming into the bank.

As Trent circled around and came back toward the island, the terrorist could be seen trying to do something behind the seat.

“He’s trying to detonate manually,” shouted Trent. 

No sooner did he get the words out than Jerry squeezed the trigger again, the terrorist probably expecting his reward of 72 virgins fell lifeless.

Jerry picked up the microphone and told the authorities to evacuate Goat Island and seal it off until the hazmat and explosive experts could once again assure the public safety.

######
Trent and Jerry sat with Jack Muller for final debriefing.

“You men did an awesome job.  The citizens of Canada and the United States owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“I don’t think that I want to do this again in the near future,” said Trent.

Jerry agreed.

Trent held up a large manila envelope marked ‘CONFIDENTIAL’.

“Everything is documented in here.  Mujahid Robin was originally supposed to be the shooter but we caught him shortly after crossing our border.  We don’t have a name for the shooter on the boat; probably some poor shlunk that was recruited at the last minute.  It appears that the lead man was Shawan Burna.”

Jack smiled broadly.  “Great work, guys.  I guess we can mark this case closed.”

“Not quite,” said Trent as he held up a memory chip.

“What’s that?”

“Shawan Burna had a throw-away cell phone; fortunately he didn’t throw it away.  He probably thought it would be destroyed in the explosion.  There are a number of messages from ‘Hino’ praising our terrorists for carrying out Jihad.  Hino is the real boss of this event.  I had our speech analysis experts go over this.  There is no doubt as to the identity of Hino.  I’m sure that you’ll recognize the voice.”

Trent plugged the device in and adjusted the volume.  Jack’s eyes widened.

“That sounds like the President of the United States,” he exclaimed.

“Now, the question is, what are you going to do with this information.”

“I ---- I don’t know,” Jack stuttered.

“Are you a patriot or are you one of the people trying to destroy America?”

Trent and Jerry got up to leave.  Trent turned and grinned.

“One more thing, Jack.  If anything happens to Jerry or me, there are copies of this audio and the case file that will be widely distributed.  See you later.  I hope you make the right choice.”

######
Trent awoke to the annoying ring of his telephone.  “Damn, it’s still dark out.  It better not be a crank call.  I’m not in the mood.”

Fumbling with the phone in the dark, he placed it to his ear.  “Hello.  This better be important,” he growled.

“Trent!  This is Jack.  I need you here ASAP!  Everything in Washington is coming unglued.”

Okay, see you in a little while.”  Trent hung up the phone.  “What in hell is going on?”
Trent threw on some clothes and drove to the field office, stopping only to get a coffee from the drive through at a 24 hour burger joint nearby.  Finding the outer doors unlocked, Trent went inside.  He could hear voices through the open door of Jack’s office.  Jack was talking to an Army General.

“Trent, I’m glad you’re here.  Things have gone to hell in a hand basket.  I’d like you to meet General Banning.”

“Nice to meet you, General.”

“Nice to meet you too, Barrows.  You’ve opened up a real can of worms with your identification of “Hino” and the attempted attack at Niagara Falls.”

“What do you mean?”

“After I received your report and audio regarding the foiled attack, we were going to arrest the President and charge him with treason.  Unfortunately, knowing who to trust has been a problem.  It turns out that one of the people I trusted was with the bad guys.  As soon as he leaked the news, the rats began to scurry in an attempt to save their worthless backsides.  The President bailed out, leaving his wife and kids behind.  The news is already hitting the streets as we speak.  There are a lot of angry, hungry people out there and they want the President’s head on a stick.   I don’t mind telling you, I’d love to give it to them.”

“I hear that!  I’d supply the stick.  Where’s the Vice President? “asked Trent.

“We have him in custody.  He’s spilling his guts about everything he knows or thinks he knows; unfortunately, it looks as if he wasn’t privy to the president’s escape plan.

We need to get a group together that we can trust,” said Jack.  “I’m thinking Jerry Daniels is another good choice.  What do you think?”

“Jerry is a good man.  He bleeds red, white and blue just like I do,” said Trent.

Jack picked up his phone.  “I’ll get him down here right away.”

While Jack was on the phone, General Banning continued to give Trent more details.  “We don’t think that the President has made it out of the country yet.  We have his wife in custody at Quantico.   I want you and Jerry to get down there ASAP and see if she will give you a lead on where he might be or where he’s going.”

######
Trent and Jerry entered the holding area at Quantico where they were greeted by FBI Senior Agent Brett Wilson.
Good morning, gentlemen.  May I help you? “

Trent extended his hand.  “Yes, I’m HS Agent Trent Barrows and this is Agent Jerry Daniels.  I believe General Banning told you we were coming down to interview the President’s wife. “

“Glad to see you guys.  Man, she is one surly broad!  She always did act as if the world owed her a living.  Grab some coffee if you want while I have her brought to an interrogation room. “

Agent Wilson returned in about 15 minutes and ushered them to a room down the hall.
“Good luck, fellas!”

Trent and Jerry entered the room where the President’s wife sat at a table, her arms crossed, glaring at them.
Good morning.  I’m Agent Barrows and this is Agent Daniels.  We’re hoping that you might be able to tell us how to find your husband.”

“You think?  When the news came out that he was that “Hino” character responsible for that Niagara Falls business, he bailed out without so much as a goodbye or a peck on the cheek.  Did you ask the Vice President?”

“It would seem that he didn’t include the Vice President in his emergency exit plan.”

“I’m not surprised.  That guy is such a mouth; he couldn’t keep a secret if you stuffed it in his pocket.  They just used him for media time.”

“Isn’t there anything you can tell us?” asked Jerry.

Her face appeared to soften as she spoke, “He’s not right, you know.”

“What do you mean?” said Trent. 

“Once upon a time my husband was a pretty level headed guy.  Then that billionaire Raphael Dimitros and his power hungry cronies got a hold of him.  They created a President from the bottom up.  He was tutored by card carrying communists and socialists to get his thinking in line with what they wanted.  Everything’s been bought and paid for from his college degrees to election votes.  They messed with his mind.  They had him thinking that he was some kind of God.  They told him that he would someday lead the New World Order.  The plan was to create total turmoil among the people and turn them against one another to bring America down.  What are you going to do with me?”

“I’m afraid that I can’t give you an answer to that question.  Would you be willing to testify to all of this?  I’m sure that it would help you immensely.”

“I’ll tell everything I know.  Not long ago, I heard Dimitros telling him something about friends in Iran.  I can’t think of anything else.”

On their way back to the field office, Trent called Jack to fill him in.

“Jack, this is Trent.  It appears that Raphael Dimitros is involved with the President’s disappearance.   We need to learn his whereabouts; can you get a lead on where his private jet is currently?”

“Will do.  We’ve been checking commercial flights out of the country and he hasn’t shown up.   Do you think Dimitros is pulling the strings?”

“According to the President’s wife, Dimitros has been the head puppeteer since day one.  Possibly, the plan might be to escape to Iran.  If you remember, there have been a lot of secret deals with Iran behind closed doors.”

######
Upon returning to the office, Trent and Jerry were met by Jack and General Banning.

Jack smiled broadly.  “You’re just in time.  General Banning was just about to show me the new communications room that he’s set up.  Come with us.”

As they walked, General Banning described the new equipment.  “We’ve gotten together a group of electronics hot shots to help us monitor cell communications and communicate directly with police and military.”

As they entered the communications room, Jerry’s mouth fell open.  “Wow!  It looks like friggin’ NASA Command Control.”

”I’ve got an update for you.  Dimitros' jet was located at an airfield near Quebec.  The Canadian authorities have made security so tight at the border, you can’t sneak across with a jelly bean in your pocket.  Consequently, Dimitros had the jet moved back to the States.  We believe it’s in Maryland but don’t have an exact location.  Our guys are trying to obtain the plane’s transponder ID; we should be able to track it. ”

An excited Army radio operator came up to them.  ”General Banning, we’ve gotten the transponder ID for Dimitros’ jet.  It’s already left the continental United States.  We have it about one hundred miles off the East Coast.”

“Dammit!   He’s one step ahead of us,” said General Banning.

Jack nervously scratched the back of his head.   “Do you think the President is really onboard or is the plane just a decoy?   We know that he’s been dealing with the folks in South America.”

“I don’t think so,” said Trent.  “If he were to go to South America, we could go in and forcibly take him back.  If push came to shove, I think they’d give him up rather than have our military come in and tear things up, especially since he’s not running our country anymore.   Canada would haul his butt back to us in a heartbeat.   However, going after him in Iran would be hell.   He can land in Tehran in a little more than thirteen hours.”

Banning turned to the radio operator.  “Private, I need you to connect me with Admiral Shriver on the USS Viper.”

“Yes sir!”

“The carrier Viper is stationed in the Gulf.  If that’s where he’s headed, we can scramble some fighters to head him off.” 

“If I may comment, General, I would think that Iran might launch a fighter escort,” remarked Trent.  Personally, it would be fine with me if Dimitros’ plane runs out of fuel in the middle of the ocean.  I hate the thought of sending our pilots into a hornet’s nest.”

“I agree with you, Agent Barrows.  The planes from the Viper may be our last resort.”

General Banning approached a uniformed man who appeared to be in charge of operations in the room.  “Lieutenant Parker, I’d like you to set up a direct communication with the Iranian Supreme Leader, Vahid Amirzadeh.  Connect it to Director Muller’s office.”

“Will do, General.  It may take awhile.“

The men went to Jack’s office where his secretary Sarah had set out bagels and hot coffee.  As then men filed into the office, Trent leaned close to Sarah.

“Sarah, I think I love you,” he said with a smile.  “Put your name on the list for a pay raise.”

“I’ve been moving it to the top of the list for the last year but no one’s paying attention,” she laughed.

Once seated, General Banning looked at the men thoughtfully.  “I’d appreciate your input on this.  I don’t know how this is going to play out.  It would be great if we could avoid casualties but it’s not very likely.  We need to discuss possible scenarios.”

Jerry placed his cup down and cleared his throat.

“General, it seems that the four of us are sitting here making life and death decisions.  What about Congress?  What about the normal chain of command set up in case something would happen to the President?”

“The government that we grew up with is pretty much non-existent.  The President and his big buck handlers were ready to declare martial law and take complete control after the Niagara Falls attack failed.  You boys messed up his plan by identifying him as “Hino.”   Once the news broke, the rats began to scatter.  Luckily, local governments are doing a great job of trying to maintain order.  At the national level, patriots like myself are trying to find the right people to start putting the government back together again.  I was given the job of bringing the President back to stand trial for treason.   So, it’s up to us.”

Jack slowly shook his head in disbelief.  “Are you prepared to give the order to shoot down his plane if we can’t stop him?”

“We’d like to avoid physical harm if we can; it would only make him a martyr to his followers here and abroad.  If he lands in Iran, we probably won’t get him back.”

There was a knock on the door and Sarah entered.

“General, Lieutenant Parker has your call to Supreme Leader Amirzadeh ready.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

Jack placed the phone on ‘speaker.’

“Hello, this General Banning.  Please forgive my ignorance but, what is the proper way to address you, sir?”

The Supreme Leader spoke, “You may call me Vahid.  I see no need for formalities.  Please do not take offense but, I didn’t expect to be contacted directly by a General.  How may I help you?”

The General tried to chose his words carefully.  “You’ve undoubtedly heard that our president has been charged with Treason for orchestrating a terrorist attack on our own people.  This event has placed our government in considerable turmoil for the moment.”

“Yes, that was quite an interesting change of events.  I assume that he has been placed in custody.”

“Unfortunately, he’s fled the country.  He’s being aided by Raphael Dimitros.  We have reason to believe that he is going to Iran.”

“Very interesting, General.  What would you like me to do?”

“I would like you to refuse him permission to land in your country.”

“We are not a bad people.  Why should we refuse him asylum if he chooses to come here?”

“Please don’t misinterpret what I’m about to say, Vahid.  We are obligated to return the President to our soil so that he may answer to charges of crimes against our people.  We prefer to accomplish this without bloodshed on either side.”

“I understand your position, General Banning.  Should your President choose to come here, I can only promise you that I will give the matter serious thought before making a decision.  I must go now.   Goodbye, General.”

The connection went dead.

“I don’t think he was too happy with your ultimatum,” said Jack.

“I’m not in favor of going in with guns blazing but if he thinks we will, maybe he’ll do what we want.  World opinion on this will be a source of argument for some time.”

Sarah entered the room again.  “Gentlemen, Lieutenant Parker would like you to come to the communications room.”

Entering the communications room, the group was met by Lieutenant Parker.

“The Dimitros plane is definitely headed for Iran.  The Viper has sent up a welcoming committee.  They should be making contact momentarily.”

Suddenly, a voice came over the radio.  “Unidentified aircraft, this is Badger 1 from the carrier USS Viper.  Do you copy?”

After a short silence, another voice answered.  “This is Raphael Dimitros.  What do you want?”
“Sir, this is Badger 1.  We need you to alter course.  We will lead you to an alternate landing site, over.”

“I’m not a citizen of your country.  I don’t need to follow your orders.”

“Sir, we are authorized to bring your aircraft down by whatever means deemed necessary.  We’ll give you a few minutes to think about it.  Badger 1 out.”

Another short silence.   “Tehran airport, this is Dimitros private aircraft requesting landing instructions, over.”

“Dimitros aircraft, this is Tehran air authority.  Please stand by.”

Suddenly, a familiar voice was heard.  “Dimitros, old friend.  This is Vahid Amirzadeh.  To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

“You knew we were coming, Vahid.  I need landing instructions.  I also need an escort; I have a group of Navy fighters behind me.”

“Perhaps it is not a good idea to anger the United States Navy.”

Another angry voice broke the silence.   “Vahid, this is the President of the United States.  I don’t appreciate this BS.  Give us a fighter escort and landing instructions.  Let me be clear, when I am leader of the New World Order, I will be in a position to do a lot for you.”

Vahid was heard laughing into the microphone.  “But of course, Mister President; or should I say ‘Hino, God of Thunder.’  Stand by for your landing instructions.”

Radio silence was soon broken again.   “Badger 1, Badger 1.  This is Viper.”

“Viper, this is Badger 1, over.”

“Badger 1, we’ve detected a missile launch from Iran, headed your way.  Get the hell away from that plane.”

“Roger that, Viper.”  “Badger flight this is Badger 1.  Incoming missile!  Peel off.  Peel off!

More silence.  “Viper, this is Badger 1, over.”

“This is Viper, over.”

“Direct hit on the Dimitros plane.  No survivors.”

“Roger that, Badger 1.  Return to the ship.”

The communications room was dead silent, everyone present in awe of the act of treachery just witnessed.

Finally General Banning spoke.  “I guess we can’t put him on trial.  At least we can get busy with the business of rebuilding our broken country.”


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