twice to contrib-ute to their downfall. I like to think of it as an unintended but not unappreciated little bonus.
"Now . . ." Tony paused, taking a moment to search the eyes of each of his soldiers in the small building. "Does that make sense to you, or do we have a problem we need to iron out? If anyone here doesn't see the wisdom of what I am saying or disagrees with the direction our little operation has taken, now would be the appropriate time to mention that fact. In order for us to be successful, we must all be on the same page, as you Americans like to say, from this point on."
He waited. The silence in the garage spoke volumes. "Well?"
No one answered. Each man averted his eyes when the laser gaze of Tony fell upon him. There was no doubt as to who was in charge.
The only member of the team not an American citizen was Tony, a Syrian by birth. The others had graduated from an intense indoctrination program held in a remote training camp located deep in the mountains of Afghanistan. Run by the resurgent Tal-iban and financed by various Middle Eastern governments through dummy organizations and generous individual donations, the camp specialized in training disaffected Westerners. They worked mostly with young white American males, teaching them guerrilla tactics and warfare as well as providing an introduction to radical Muslim theology.
The days of using Middle Eastern men to fly airplanes into buildings were over. Forward-thinking terror organizations like the one Tony represented now recognized the value of employing homegrown citizens, who could blend seamlessly into the cultural landscape of the West, to accomplish their goals.
Although born and raised in the West, these were men who had developed a burning hatred of their countries, usually the United States or Great Britain, and to the guerrillas providing the training, that was good enough. Being a true believer in radical Islam would be nice, but it was not a necessary part of the package. All that mattered was that the recruits be willing to sacrifice themselves to their leaders' bidding at the time and place of their choosing.
The four men currently wilting under the smoldering stare of Tony had been recruited for the Afghanistan program from diverse locations all over the United States. Brian was a native Southern Californian who had attended Stanford briefly before dropping out when he was unable to reconcile his anti-American beliefs with the benefits of an elite education.
Jackie Corrigan was a high school dropout and former gang-banger from the Bronx, Dimitrios Stavros a second-generation American from Las Vegas who had been born into casino wealth but wanted none of it, and Joe-Bob Warren was ex-military out of Frankfurt, Kentucky, the recipient of a dishonorable discharge from the United States Army when he was busted for purchasing child pornography while stationed at Fort Hood in Texas.
All the men were in their twenties, none had any loyalty whatsoever to the ideals of the United States of America, and all had passed the training course conducted deep in the mountains of Afghanistan with flying colors. They had been sent back to the States more than six months ago with instructions to report to Tony and live their lives in the D.C. area as quietly and unobtrusively as possible while awaiting an assignment. That assignment had come just a few weeks ago, and with the information that had been acquired yesterday from Michaels, the team was ready to proceed.
Tony snapped the briefcase containing the ten thousand dollars shut and smiled. "No one has a problem with my leadership.
Then I will assume we are all rowing this boat in the same direction. Very good. Now, let us discuss the specifics of this operation."
Chapter 15
Nick hugged his mother tightly and shook his father's hand as they said their good-byes at the departure gate. Logan Airport was crowded as usual, and Nick was surprised to see that his parents'
plane was scheduled to
"Now . . ." Tony paused, taking a moment to search the eyes of each of his soldiers in the small building. "Does that make sense to you, or do we have a problem we need to iron out? If anyone here doesn't see the wisdom of what I am saying or disagrees with the direction our little operation has taken, now would be the appropriate time to mention that fact. In order for us to be successful, we must all be on the same page, as you Americans like to say, from this point on."
He waited. The silence in the garage spoke volumes. "Well?"
No one answered. Each man averted his eyes when the laser gaze of Tony fell upon him. There was no doubt as to who was in charge.
The only member of the team not an American citizen was Tony, a Syrian by birth. The others had graduated from an intense indoctrination program held in a remote training camp located deep in the mountains of Afghanistan. Run by the resurgent Tal-iban and financed by various Middle Eastern governments through dummy organizations and generous individual donations, the camp specialized in training disaffected Westerners. They worked mostly with young white American males, teaching them guerrilla tactics and warfare as well as providing an introduction to radical Muslim theology.
The days of using Middle Eastern men to fly airplanes into buildings were over. Forward-thinking terror organizations like the one Tony represented now recognized the value of employing homegrown citizens, who could blend seamlessly into the cultural landscape of the West, to accomplish their goals.
Although born and raised in the West, these were men who had developed a burning hatred of their countries, usually the United States or Great Britain, and to the guerrillas providing the training, that was good enough. Being a true believer in radical Islam would be nice, but it was not a necessary part of the package. All that mattered was that the recruits be willing to sacrifice themselves to their leaders' bidding at the time and place of their choosing.
The four men currently wilting under the smoldering stare of Tony had been recruited for the Afghanistan program from diverse locations all over the United States. Brian was a native Southern Californian who had attended Stanford briefly before dropping out when he was unable to reconcile his anti-American beliefs with the benefits of an elite education.
Jackie Corrigan was a high school dropout and former gang-banger from the Bronx, Dimitrios Stavros a second-generation American from Las Vegas who had been born into casino wealth but wanted none of it, and Joe-Bob Warren was ex-military out of Frankfurt, Kentucky, the recipient of a dishonorable discharge from the United States Army when he was busted for purchasing child pornography while stationed at Fort Hood in Texas.
All the men were in their twenties, none had any loyalty whatsoever to the ideals of the United States of America, and all had passed the training course conducted deep in the mountains of Afghanistan with flying colors. They had been sent back to the States more than six months ago with instructions to report to Tony and live their lives in the D.C. area as quietly and unobtrusively as possible while awaiting an assignment. That assignment had come just a few weeks ago, and with the information that had been acquired yesterday from Michaels, the team was ready to proceed.
Tony snapped the briefcase containing the ten thousand dollars shut and smiled. "No one has a problem with my leadership.
Then I will assume we are all rowing this boat in the same direction. Very good. Now, let us discuss the specifics of this operation."
Chapter 15
Nick hugged his mother tightly and shook his father's hand as they said their good-byes at the departure gate. Logan Airport was crowded as usual, and Nick was surprised to see that his parents'
plane was scheduled to
Similar Books
