Interdiction by W.Addison Gast (carter reed txt) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
Interdiction is the story of the conflicts with reality faced by young people growing up today in a world of terrorism and violence. A quest for peace but how to approach that goal is on every young adults mind in this century. This is the story of two such youths faced with decisions typical of what is faced day in and day out throughout the world. The story follows the parallel lives of two young youths growing up at the same time but in different locations and what influences they confront daily on where they decide to place their destiny. Haydar--- the Iraqi youth is influenced by a recruiter that has contacts with al queda and wants him to become a Muhadeen. "DJ" Jacobs, the son of an American Army Brigadier General decides to go to West Point following his father's footsteps. Haydar takes the track that will change his life forever by consenting to go to Afghanistan and receive terrorist training. DJ is more or less "drafted" into the Homeland Security Agency after graduating f... (Read more) Interdiction is the story of the conflicts with reality faced by young people growing up today in a world of terrorism and violence. A quest for peace but how to approach that goal is on every young adults mind in this century. This is the story of two such youths faced with decisions typical of what is faced day in and day out throughout the world. The story follows the parallel lives of two young youths growing up at the same time but in different locations and what influences they confront daily on where they decide to place their destiny. Haydar--- the Iraqi youth is influenced by a recruiter that has contacts with al queda and wants him to become a Muhadeen. "DJ" Jacobs, the son of an American Army Brigadier General decides to go to West Point following his father's footsteps. Haydar takes the track that will change his life forever by consenting to go to Afghanistan and receive terrorist training. DJ is more or less "drafted" into the Homeland Security Agency after graduating from West Point when they learn that he understands and speaks five different Middle Eastern languages and dialects. In his assignment to HSA, DJ establishes a team of techi-geeks and professionally trained government career people to organize a high power counterterrorism group that work directly under the VPOUS. When the terrorists come to Texas to poison a popular river during the summer holiday season, Haydar and DJ collide in a thrill driven episode of chases and explosions. This is the first in the "DJ" series of action adventure novels by W.Addison Gast.
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Take precautions to not have any visitors we do not know or can readily identify and clear come to this location for the next three days.” The Indian seemed to consider the alarm commonplace and nothing to be concerned over. Haydar watched as Badra and the three policemen removed the glass containers and the metal containers from the table and took them over to the mill building. There, they would transfer the formula to the metal containers while wearing protective clothing. The plan was to change the color of the formula to a shade of brown resembling refined petro. On the way to the mill building, Goat approached the group walking across the open area.
“Did you see the strange aircraft that came over while you were meeting? It looked like one of the small model airplanes I have seen in magazines. It was all white and had no marking on it-anyplace.” One of the men accompanying Badra with the containers remarked that they were on a flight path from Lahore to New Delhi here and it was not uncommon to see several aircraft each day. Changing the containers went reasonably well considering the danger of exposure involved. Badra had the men who made the color change and the transfer remove and burn the clothing they used for the operation. After a lot of discussion about how the formula looked every bit like oil specimen in the containers, the group returned to the large house.
The excitement slowed and the men were taken to a large room off of the dining area for their fitting of their new Saudi clothing.
Haydar was given a white cotton Thawb and sirwal to begin his change in dress. To Haydar’s amazement, they fit perfect .Even the length of the Thawb was high enough so that his madras would not catch when he walked. He would wear a dark brown Bisht with gold lining to finalize the typical attire of a royal Saudi traveling to the United States. He chose a Shumagh made of white and red embroidered threads. This was held in place with a black wool igal that was a bit tight on his head but he could get used to it. Perhaps it was the Kufeya that made it tight. Once each person had their clothing fitted, they had their photographs taken with the clothing on for their new passports. Each passport had the letters in red Diplomat stamped across the page with the photograph
Haydar looked at Goat and had to think that with his large growth of hair on his chin and the unshaven young cheeks of his face, he looked every bit the part of the young Saudi privileged oil tycoon. Haydayr knew now why they told him not to shave. A rough growth of stubble would increase the disguised photographs. Credibility.
Budra was given a beautiful white linen and cotton Kurtah. This was covered with a very sheer white gown that was trimmed in gold and lace. They would travel with three servants that would care for the clothing and also assist in the baggage. Handling. It would not be fitting for royalty to carry their luggage through the terminal and directly onto the aircraft bypassing security and inspection. This the servants would do. All except for the small delicately carved teakwood box that contained the oil samples. They were ready. They would be driven to the New Delhi airport tomorrow in six large black SUV vehicles with Saudi diplomatic flags and markings.
Chapter 23
Kabul headquarters, Terrorist observation command.
The analyst moved across the room quickly with a printout from his laser printer. He saw the command officer across the room reviewing some new maps that had just come in. The operations room was large. It was a covert location somewhere in the city of Kabul that was the eyes, ears and dispatch center for allied forces in four countries. They commanded unpiloted aircraft flown from locations all over the world and special operations tactical assignments within their theatre. Technicians sat for several hours at a time looking into monitors of over flight operations from Predators, helmet cameras of personnel on the ground in combat scenarios and satellite images. What the technician had seen on the image from the predator had been passed over to the analyst who then processed it in detail. What he saw made him rise from his chair and head for the commander after getting another tech to operate his observation post.
“Sir, I believe we have some urgent data for that group from Arlington that was just here in country.”
“What’s up?”
“Eagle was at the far end of its range this morning and heading for station headrest to refuel when it sent these images of that wheat farm we have been watching in western India.”
“Ok, I’m familiar with that target; give me an assessment, description, or explanation of the significance of this morning’s flight.”
“Unusual activity. They had additional vehicles enter the facility in the last twenty four hours because we were able to read some residual IR on the driveway. The tracks came from the area we have suspected as being one of the Tango’s pathways from the mountains.”
“All very interesting—what is the significance?”
“We got an image on the over flight that we ran through the system that made the computer bark like a hound dog on scent.”
“Of?” The commander asked with more interest now.
“These Tangos here. They are on the hot list from Lt. Jacobs outfit in Arlington and CENTCOM.” The technician handed the Lt. General a photograph of three men walking across a stretch of ground between the house and mill building. They were looking straight up at the Predator and the photograph had so much detail you could almost see the buttons on their shirt. The angle and position of the image of Goat was so close to the same position that his head was in when he was photographed at the Iranian border crossing, the system gave a 97% reliability reading on the comparison.
“Ask the CIA spooks if they still have an asset at the farm. I think its time we used him.”
“Roger sir. Shall I contact Lt. Jacobs also?”
“Negative. He is airborne on his return to CONUS and will have to let us know his input when he is briefed in Arlington. Get me that info from the spooks-pronto. We are going to have to set up a take-out of that farm house once and for all.
Also, alert the 103rd special weapon operations squadron in Islamabad that we may have a mission for their ATL group, the Directed Energy engineers from Boeing.”
The commander moved over to his office and made a phone call. The person on the other end was receptive as always but then the Lt. General explained;
“Before I get your approval, you need to know one other item that could twist the knickers into a wad back at State.”
“You saved the best for last—as you always do John. What should I know?”
“The target is in India. It is Just across the border at the end of that mountain trail and road that is responsible for bringing in the majority of recruits and insurgents into Pakistan.”
“Shit” Was the response on the other end of the phone line.
“It happens, like they say Charlie. I’ll call you back after I talk to Arlington. They are closer to the horsepower on the hill that can give the ok. Incidentally, we intend on using the new toy from the 103rd on this one. The ATL. I doubt if there will be anyone that can tag us for the operation. It will just look like Tommy Tango got careless with all those explosives stored in that underground locker and it blew. You might say that they didn’t operate according to OSHA guidelines for safety?”
“It’s never that simple John-you know that.”
“We’ll do our best Charlie, Command out.”
The analyst was standing outside the Lt. Generals door when he sat the phone back on the saddle. Lt. General John. Bone motioned for him to enter when all the time he was wishing in his mind that the news from the CIA group would be encouraging.
“They have a high time operative at that location sir.”
“Those spooks keep inventing new English over there. What the hell is a High time operative?
“That’s one of their people that have been under cover for close to the maximum time. It’s about time to pull them and reassign.”
“Ok. Can we get a sitrep from this operative?”
“I requested that and they tell me that he will be online tonight at six PM.”
“Online?”
“Yes sir, The Tangos are not the only people that use the net for clandestine operations.”
“You know what to ask. Bring me the data as soon as you compile and authenticate alright?”
The analyst left the office and returned to his station awaiting the opportunity to talk directly to someone inside that farm that could give them what they needed.
Chapter 24
Arlington Va. One day later
Some may have complained about the air quality around the city of Arlington with its smell of coal burning furnaces and diesel powered vehicles combined with the usual industrial smog but to DJ it was fresh air and a bright morning when the cabin door to Big Bird was opened at Andrews AFB. They had made a refuel stop in the Azores and continued home. The prisoners were turned over to the Department Of Justice officials. They had been questioned again while they were on the way home. Nothing new or anything that could be added to what they had already given so they were released to DOJ on the condition that they could question them again if needed. It was 0430 local time and DJ decided to call Abdul his roommate at the apartment to warn him that he had returned Stateside and not to shoot him when he came in the door to his unused bedroom.DJ called Tom Moore and told him he would be into the office at 0930 and that he needed transportation to his apartment. Tom replied that he would call transportation and a driver would pick him up shortly and hung up. From the sound of Tom’s voice he was going to roll over and try to get another thirty minutes sleep when he finished the call. DJ made a phone call and awoke Abdul and told him he was on the way over to the apartment. Abdul took one look at the unshaven, slightly ripe DJ dressed in combat black tactical BDU and told him;
“I’m glad you called me DJ. I have to tell you, if I saw you come through our door there without knowing it was you, I’d have stitched three rounds up the left side of your face. Why the beard? You know how ripe you are? Why are you limping on your right side?”
“Shit Abdul, is this the way its going to be living together here? You sound like a inquisitive mistress that has not seen her John in a week. Let’s go have breakfast after I shower and get a clean uniform.”
Abdul started the table conversation as the two friends started the day together over breakfast.
Abdul told DJ that he had a job. He was going to tell him when DJ had called before he left but he never had a chance. “This may or may not surprise you but you and I are working for the same employer.”
“You got a government job?”
“Not just any government job—I’m working with Penny and Dan in the bubble room.”
“What?”
“Right—well, I’m still on security clearance hold but I’m the FNG in the department.”
“You worked an angle with my Dad?
“Negative.
“Did you see the strange aircraft that came over while you were meeting? It looked like one of the small model airplanes I have seen in magazines. It was all white and had no marking on it-anyplace.” One of the men accompanying Badra with the containers remarked that they were on a flight path from Lahore to New Delhi here and it was not uncommon to see several aircraft each day. Changing the containers went reasonably well considering the danger of exposure involved. Badra had the men who made the color change and the transfer remove and burn the clothing they used for the operation. After a lot of discussion about how the formula looked every bit like oil specimen in the containers, the group returned to the large house.
The excitement slowed and the men were taken to a large room off of the dining area for their fitting of their new Saudi clothing.
Haydar was given a white cotton Thawb and sirwal to begin his change in dress. To Haydar’s amazement, they fit perfect .Even the length of the Thawb was high enough so that his madras would not catch when he walked. He would wear a dark brown Bisht with gold lining to finalize the typical attire of a royal Saudi traveling to the United States. He chose a Shumagh made of white and red embroidered threads. This was held in place with a black wool igal that was a bit tight on his head but he could get used to it. Perhaps it was the Kufeya that made it tight. Once each person had their clothing fitted, they had their photographs taken with the clothing on for their new passports. Each passport had the letters in red Diplomat stamped across the page with the photograph
Haydar looked at Goat and had to think that with his large growth of hair on his chin and the unshaven young cheeks of his face, he looked every bit the part of the young Saudi privileged oil tycoon. Haydayr knew now why they told him not to shave. A rough growth of stubble would increase the disguised photographs. Credibility.
Budra was given a beautiful white linen and cotton Kurtah. This was covered with a very sheer white gown that was trimmed in gold and lace. They would travel with three servants that would care for the clothing and also assist in the baggage. Handling. It would not be fitting for royalty to carry their luggage through the terminal and directly onto the aircraft bypassing security and inspection. This the servants would do. All except for the small delicately carved teakwood box that contained the oil samples. They were ready. They would be driven to the New Delhi airport tomorrow in six large black SUV vehicles with Saudi diplomatic flags and markings.
Chapter 23
Kabul headquarters, Terrorist observation command.
The analyst moved across the room quickly with a printout from his laser printer. He saw the command officer across the room reviewing some new maps that had just come in. The operations room was large. It was a covert location somewhere in the city of Kabul that was the eyes, ears and dispatch center for allied forces in four countries. They commanded unpiloted aircraft flown from locations all over the world and special operations tactical assignments within their theatre. Technicians sat for several hours at a time looking into monitors of over flight operations from Predators, helmet cameras of personnel on the ground in combat scenarios and satellite images. What the technician had seen on the image from the predator had been passed over to the analyst who then processed it in detail. What he saw made him rise from his chair and head for the commander after getting another tech to operate his observation post.
“Sir, I believe we have some urgent data for that group from Arlington that was just here in country.”
“What’s up?”
“Eagle was at the far end of its range this morning and heading for station headrest to refuel when it sent these images of that wheat farm we have been watching in western India.”
“Ok, I’m familiar with that target; give me an assessment, description, or explanation of the significance of this morning’s flight.”
“Unusual activity. They had additional vehicles enter the facility in the last twenty four hours because we were able to read some residual IR on the driveway. The tracks came from the area we have suspected as being one of the Tango’s pathways from the mountains.”
“All very interesting—what is the significance?”
“We got an image on the over flight that we ran through the system that made the computer bark like a hound dog on scent.”
“Of?” The commander asked with more interest now.
“These Tangos here. They are on the hot list from Lt. Jacobs outfit in Arlington and CENTCOM.” The technician handed the Lt. General a photograph of three men walking across a stretch of ground between the house and mill building. They were looking straight up at the Predator and the photograph had so much detail you could almost see the buttons on their shirt. The angle and position of the image of Goat was so close to the same position that his head was in when he was photographed at the Iranian border crossing, the system gave a 97% reliability reading on the comparison.
“Ask the CIA spooks if they still have an asset at the farm. I think its time we used him.”
“Roger sir. Shall I contact Lt. Jacobs also?”
“Negative. He is airborne on his return to CONUS and will have to let us know his input when he is briefed in Arlington. Get me that info from the spooks-pronto. We are going to have to set up a take-out of that farm house once and for all.
Also, alert the 103rd special weapon operations squadron in Islamabad that we may have a mission for their ATL group, the Directed Energy engineers from Boeing.”
The commander moved over to his office and made a phone call. The person on the other end was receptive as always but then the Lt. General explained;
“Before I get your approval, you need to know one other item that could twist the knickers into a wad back at State.”
“You saved the best for last—as you always do John. What should I know?”
“The target is in India. It is Just across the border at the end of that mountain trail and road that is responsible for bringing in the majority of recruits and insurgents into Pakistan.”
“Shit” Was the response on the other end of the phone line.
“It happens, like they say Charlie. I’ll call you back after I talk to Arlington. They are closer to the horsepower on the hill that can give the ok. Incidentally, we intend on using the new toy from the 103rd on this one. The ATL. I doubt if there will be anyone that can tag us for the operation. It will just look like Tommy Tango got careless with all those explosives stored in that underground locker and it blew. You might say that they didn’t operate according to OSHA guidelines for safety?”
“It’s never that simple John-you know that.”
“We’ll do our best Charlie, Command out.”
The analyst was standing outside the Lt. Generals door when he sat the phone back on the saddle. Lt. General John. Bone motioned for him to enter when all the time he was wishing in his mind that the news from the CIA group would be encouraging.
“They have a high time operative at that location sir.”
“Those spooks keep inventing new English over there. What the hell is a High time operative?
“That’s one of their people that have been under cover for close to the maximum time. It’s about time to pull them and reassign.”
“Ok. Can we get a sitrep from this operative?”
“I requested that and they tell me that he will be online tonight at six PM.”
“Online?”
“Yes sir, The Tangos are not the only people that use the net for clandestine operations.”
“You know what to ask. Bring me the data as soon as you compile and authenticate alright?”
The analyst left the office and returned to his station awaiting the opportunity to talk directly to someone inside that farm that could give them what they needed.
Chapter 24
Arlington Va. One day later
Some may have complained about the air quality around the city of Arlington with its smell of coal burning furnaces and diesel powered vehicles combined with the usual industrial smog but to DJ it was fresh air and a bright morning when the cabin door to Big Bird was opened at Andrews AFB. They had made a refuel stop in the Azores and continued home. The prisoners were turned over to the Department Of Justice officials. They had been questioned again while they were on the way home. Nothing new or anything that could be added to what they had already given so they were released to DOJ on the condition that they could question them again if needed. It was 0430 local time and DJ decided to call Abdul his roommate at the apartment to warn him that he had returned Stateside and not to shoot him when he came in the door to his unused bedroom.DJ called Tom Moore and told him he would be into the office at 0930 and that he needed transportation to his apartment. Tom replied that he would call transportation and a driver would pick him up shortly and hung up. From the sound of Tom’s voice he was going to roll over and try to get another thirty minutes sleep when he finished the call. DJ made a phone call and awoke Abdul and told him he was on the way over to the apartment. Abdul took one look at the unshaven, slightly ripe DJ dressed in combat black tactical BDU and told him;
“I’m glad you called me DJ. I have to tell you, if I saw you come through our door there without knowing it was you, I’d have stitched three rounds up the left side of your face. Why the beard? You know how ripe you are? Why are you limping on your right side?”
“Shit Abdul, is this the way its going to be living together here? You sound like a inquisitive mistress that has not seen her John in a week. Let’s go have breakfast after I shower and get a clean uniform.”
Abdul started the table conversation as the two friends started the day together over breakfast.
Abdul told DJ that he had a job. He was going to tell him when DJ had called before he left but he never had a chance. “This may or may not surprise you but you and I are working for the same employer.”
“You got a government job?”
“Not just any government job—I’m working with Penny and Dan in the bubble room.”
“What?”
“Right—well, I’m still on security clearance hold but I’m the FNG in the department.”
“You worked an angle with my Dad?
“Negative.
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