FBI and the NSA. Many in those agencies were stunned at the high quality of the images, prodding more than one to ask if this was a drill because in the real world images never started, transmitted, or remained this clean.
Two more bioterrorists were captured at Logan airport the next day. Officials quarantined the terminal and everyone involved received prophylactic doses to inhibit HCD Complex 33. Luckily, the spread of the virus was severely curtailed since the two terrorists took a New York City taxi to Boston. It turned out that the cab driver was a member of the Atlantic Avenue Mosque community, a group that still had a hazy connection with Al Qaeda.
If the plan that was uncovered had been carried out in just the NFL towns, and the stadiums that the men were scheduled to visit, it could have meant twenty-five million deaths in the high-risk groups of elderly, those with heart conditions, and pregnant women. In total, the jihadist effort could have killed forty million Americans. It would have been the greatest public health emergency ever in the history of the world. At this point, the risk had been reduced dramatically, but the five remaining at-large terrorists posed a lethal risk to more than ten million people.
Armed with the picture of the four known men and the one unknown man, law enforcement officials swarmed into Muslim communities from coast to coast. There was a terrific outcry from all the usual sources. These cries of stereotyping and prejudice towards one specific cultural group was strangely not as loud among smart-thinking Muslims in those communities who realized that an infected bioterrorist hiding in their midst would infect Muslims and non-Muslims with non-stereotyping, non-discriminatory accuracy. Two known terrorists were found hiding in those communities. Because one of these proved to be infected, intense medical teams also swept into these Muslim communities curtailing their infectious breathing of Complex-33. Untold thousands of innocent Muslim-American men, women, and children were saved.
â§â
It was impressive; this was a prayer mat of the same weaver as his father had, all those many years ago. That alone was the sole comfort he now had at the Manhattan Correctional Facility. Unable to merge into the general population, his confinement couldnât be deemed solitary because there was a constant stream of nurses, doctors, and psychiatrists, as well as guards. An imam came once a week â a prayer session attended by a translator and a member of the American security community. These visits were also recorded for later scrutiny. He was not allowed a lawyer because he was being âdetained;â he had not been arrested.
Then she came to his room one day. His danger sense went immediately up. She was either a young girl from a college course doing research or a she-devil, sent to seduce him away from Allah and the cause.
âAliz Berniham. I am special agent Brooke Burrell, the F.B.I. agent who took you into custody when you were wounded at the motel.â
Upon the term, âF.B.I.,â Sheik Aliz Berniham focused on a crack near the sink in his one room âcellâ and tried to let the remembered sound of midday prayers fill his ears in an anemic attempt to drown out her words in his head. But his mind swirled; Allahâs plan, which he had been so close to carrying out, with its two years of training and planning, had been thwarted by a woman. A woman who, from the looks of it, didnât even bleed yet. What had he done to displease Allah, to be rebuked like this? A woman!
Then a smile creased his face ever so slightly. If the Americans were this desperate, conscripting a mere woman to combat jihad, then surely victory was a matter of when, not if. His attention eventually tuned into the voice of the woman speaking at him.
â⦠itâs up to you. In our system you have been designated an enemy combatant. Therefore, we can hold you
Two more bioterrorists were captured at Logan airport the next day. Officials quarantined the terminal and everyone involved received prophylactic doses to inhibit HCD Complex 33. Luckily, the spread of the virus was severely curtailed since the two terrorists took a New York City taxi to Boston. It turned out that the cab driver was a member of the Atlantic Avenue Mosque community, a group that still had a hazy connection with Al Qaeda.
If the plan that was uncovered had been carried out in just the NFL towns, and the stadiums that the men were scheduled to visit, it could have meant twenty-five million deaths in the high-risk groups of elderly, those with heart conditions, and pregnant women. In total, the jihadist effort could have killed forty million Americans. It would have been the greatest public health emergency ever in the history of the world. At this point, the risk had been reduced dramatically, but the five remaining at-large terrorists posed a lethal risk to more than ten million people.
Armed with the picture of the four known men and the one unknown man, law enforcement officials swarmed into Muslim communities from coast to coast. There was a terrific outcry from all the usual sources. These cries of stereotyping and prejudice towards one specific cultural group was strangely not as loud among smart-thinking Muslims in those communities who realized that an infected bioterrorist hiding in their midst would infect Muslims and non-Muslims with non-stereotyping, non-discriminatory accuracy. Two known terrorists were found hiding in those communities. Because one of these proved to be infected, intense medical teams also swept into these Muslim communities curtailing their infectious breathing of Complex-33. Untold thousands of innocent Muslim-American men, women, and children were saved.
â§â
It was impressive; this was a prayer mat of the same weaver as his father had, all those many years ago. That alone was the sole comfort he now had at the Manhattan Correctional Facility. Unable to merge into the general population, his confinement couldnât be deemed solitary because there was a constant stream of nurses, doctors, and psychiatrists, as well as guards. An imam came once a week â a prayer session attended by a translator and a member of the American security community. These visits were also recorded for later scrutiny. He was not allowed a lawyer because he was being âdetained;â he had not been arrested.
Then she came to his room one day. His danger sense went immediately up. She was either a young girl from a college course doing research or a she-devil, sent to seduce him away from Allah and the cause.
âAliz Berniham. I am special agent Brooke Burrell, the F.B.I. agent who took you into custody when you were wounded at the motel.â
Upon the term, âF.B.I.,â Sheik Aliz Berniham focused on a crack near the sink in his one room âcellâ and tried to let the remembered sound of midday prayers fill his ears in an anemic attempt to drown out her words in his head. But his mind swirled; Allahâs plan, which he had been so close to carrying out, with its two years of training and planning, had been thwarted by a woman. A woman who, from the looks of it, didnât even bleed yet. What had he done to displease Allah, to be rebuked like this? A woman!
Then a smile creased his face ever so slightly. If the Americans were this desperate, conscripting a mere woman to combat jihad, then surely victory was a matter of when, not if. His attention eventually tuned into the voice of the woman speaking at him.
â⦠itâs up to you. In our system you have been designated an enemy combatant. Therefore, we can hold you
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