wearing Arab gowns, but they were not in purdah. No veils covered their faces, which were bleak and terrified. Some of them were marked with bruises. One even had an eye blackened to the point of being swollen shut.
“We have credible intel that Najid is planning a multipronged terrorist attack for September 11 of this year. Thus the code name Octopus. On that date, these females will be given to a troop of his most hardened soldiers to rape and brutalize. On camera. To be simultaneously televised to the entire world.”
“Isn’t that a huge risk? The outcry around the globe would be enormous,” JAM pointed out. “Seems to me the bastard would lose half his supporters. It certainly isn’t the Muslim way.”
“Just the Muslim terrorist way,” someone called out.
“Najid will deny any involvement, of course, and will probably be dining in Paris at one of those fancy restaurants that serve five-hundred-dollar mushrooms,” Slick explained, “or have his mug on a timed security tape showing him filling the gas tank of his bulletproof Mercedes, which, last I heard, is worth a cool five hundred K.”
Good Lord! The things people waste money on!
“I still don’t get it. Despite his not being there personally, the world will know he masterminded the event.” JAM was shaking his head with confusion.
“And he wants them to know that. If he could shout his involvement to the moon, he would.” Slick pondered a moment, trying to come up with a better explanation. “Think of Hitler. He was proud of his death camps and his plan to annihilate the entire Jewish race, but he didn’t personally give a press conference announcing his vile acts.”
“I still say he’s gambling big-time,” JAM insisted.
“He is, but keep in mind,” the commander interjected, “there are a helluva lot of people around the world who hate Americans, and there are bigots everywhere who still carry a Nazi mentality about Jews.”
And wasn’t that the sad truth?
“But that’s not all,” Slick went on. “There are multiple attacks being planned at the same time, around the world. We have three weeks to prepare 24/7 before we put boots on the ground in any of these various locations. I know that sometimes in the past, the Navy higher-ups have chosen a mushroom management approach. Planting you in a dark place, and then just letting the shit fall down on you.”
“Could you be referring to that incident with the exploding camels in Kabul?” Sly shouted out.
Everyone laughed and Slick just grinned. “In any case, I’m not a higher-up but I guarantee that won’t be the case this time. Believe me, this will not be a blind date,” Slick told them. “I’ll let K–4, Flash, and Cody tell you what they’ve discovered.”
K–4, a darkly handsome Italian who’d joined SEALs more than five years ago after his wife died of cancer, said, “There are plans to simultaneously set off bombs in Arlington National Cemetery and Calvary, the spot in Jerusalem where Christ was crucified. Both of these are intended to be symbolic middle finger salutes more than attempts at mass human destruction. Consider those the second and third tentacles of the octopus.”
Flash spoke then. “Cody and I just returned from Manhattan, where Najid spoke to a gathering of Muslim students . . . at a podium with bulletproof glass. Although the message was hidden in the sickeningly sweet talk he gave about Allah and Mohammed and world acceptance of his religion, he is, unbelievably, prodding them to riot on September 11 at—are you ready for this?—the World Trade Center memorial site.”
A muttering of outrage rippled around the room.
Cody raised a hand for attention. “In addition, smaller incidents are planned for at least a dozen, possibly two dozen cities across the world. Everything from fires to riots to suicide bombings. The ultimate goal being chaos. Mass fear and hysteria.”
JAM raised his hand. “Permission to speak, Commander,
“We have credible intel that Najid is planning a multipronged terrorist attack for September 11 of this year. Thus the code name Octopus. On that date, these females will be given to a troop of his most hardened soldiers to rape and brutalize. On camera. To be simultaneously televised to the entire world.”
“Isn’t that a huge risk? The outcry around the globe would be enormous,” JAM pointed out. “Seems to me the bastard would lose half his supporters. It certainly isn’t the Muslim way.”
“Just the Muslim terrorist way,” someone called out.
“Najid will deny any involvement, of course, and will probably be dining in Paris at one of those fancy restaurants that serve five-hundred-dollar mushrooms,” Slick explained, “or have his mug on a timed security tape showing him filling the gas tank of his bulletproof Mercedes, which, last I heard, is worth a cool five hundred K.”
Good Lord! The things people waste money on!
“I still don’t get it. Despite his not being there personally, the world will know he masterminded the event.” JAM was shaking his head with confusion.
“And he wants them to know that. If he could shout his involvement to the moon, he would.” Slick pondered a moment, trying to come up with a better explanation. “Think of Hitler. He was proud of his death camps and his plan to annihilate the entire Jewish race, but he didn’t personally give a press conference announcing his vile acts.”
“I still say he’s gambling big-time,” JAM insisted.
“He is, but keep in mind,” the commander interjected, “there are a helluva lot of people around the world who hate Americans, and there are bigots everywhere who still carry a Nazi mentality about Jews.”
And wasn’t that the sad truth?
“But that’s not all,” Slick went on. “There are multiple attacks being planned at the same time, around the world. We have three weeks to prepare 24/7 before we put boots on the ground in any of these various locations. I know that sometimes in the past, the Navy higher-ups have chosen a mushroom management approach. Planting you in a dark place, and then just letting the shit fall down on you.”
“Could you be referring to that incident with the exploding camels in Kabul?” Sly shouted out.
Everyone laughed and Slick just grinned. “In any case, I’m not a higher-up but I guarantee that won’t be the case this time. Believe me, this will not be a blind date,” Slick told them. “I’ll let K–4, Flash, and Cody tell you what they’ve discovered.”
K–4, a darkly handsome Italian who’d joined SEALs more than five years ago after his wife died of cancer, said, “There are plans to simultaneously set off bombs in Arlington National Cemetery and Calvary, the spot in Jerusalem where Christ was crucified. Both of these are intended to be symbolic middle finger salutes more than attempts at mass human destruction. Consider those the second and third tentacles of the octopus.”
Flash spoke then. “Cody and I just returned from Manhattan, where Najid spoke to a gathering of Muslim students . . . at a podium with bulletproof glass. Although the message was hidden in the sickeningly sweet talk he gave about Allah and Mohammed and world acceptance of his religion, he is, unbelievably, prodding them to riot on September 11 at—are you ready for this?—the World Trade Center memorial site.”
A muttering of outrage rippled around the room.
Cody raised a hand for attention. “In addition, smaller incidents are planned for at least a dozen, possibly two dozen cities across the world. Everything from fires to riots to suicide bombings. The ultimate goal being chaos. Mass fear and hysteria.”
JAM raised his hand. “Permission to speak, Commander,
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