Interdiction by W.Addison Gast (carter reed txt) đź“•
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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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1996
“What have you heard from D J General? I know that he left several months ago for the states and was to enter the point but I have neglected to ask how he is doing.” Asked Capt Tom More.
“He is doing just fine Captain. Thanks for asking.” Replied the General.
“You will get to see him in about another six weeks when you take your new assignment at the Pentagon right?
“Well some much needed vacation time Tom and then we will see if we can spend a weekend with him at the point. As you know, undergrads don’t get much free time in their first year but seeing as his company commander Ron Wetmore was my roommate at the point in 63, I might be able to get DJ a “special assignment” for a few days.” The general smiled.
Speaking of special assignments, I want you to keep me wired in on that group we discussed back in June. We named the file Saih. What do we have in the way of updates on that group?”
Pretty thin as of the last thirty days sir. We did manage to get our operative in country bribe some border guards into getting some photographs and fingerprints.”
“You amaze me Captain. How did you manage that?
“Required identification for all students crossing the Iranian border sir. They fell for it and we lined up all twenty six of them and got positive I.D. Our asset there informs us that the leader never reported it so far as he knows because it would show he was asleep at the switch by letting the Iranian guys do this. We have run all the prints and there is no record or problems with any of the group as of this date. One interesting aspect of tracing their family records developed an interesting bit of info.
“And that is ,…what?” asked the General as he took a second cup of morning coffee from the tray.
“The kid they have named “the goat” has a pretty famous grandpa.”
“Goat? These individuals already have their Mujahideen names? So who is his grandfather?”
“None other than Izzat Lbrahim al Duri”
“What is the reliability factor on that intel? Do we know this as of when? Christ you would think that the guys in third army G2 and our DIA would be shadowing every move this kid makes. How did he get across the border?”
“Well, it appears that when they named him “the goat” he got pretty angry and said his grandfather would be ashamed of him with a name like that. When asked who his grandpa was he replied Izzat…… and then caught himself. Our asset reported that and DIA tracked him back from where they picked him up in Tikrit. Checks out so far as we can tell. He doesn’t seem to get any special favors in the group so maybe his bosses don’t know of his bloodline.”
“We know anything about the stuff they are training these guys?”
“Usual indoc stuff for the first six months or so. Playing with their heads and pumping up the glory of killing yourself for the future of Islam and the whole six yards with the seventy two virgins waiting on them story.”
“Keep me wired on this Tom. I don’t know for sure where they are going to put me when I report to the pentagon but I’d like to be someplace in counter terrorism and this could be useful. By the way. How did the kid get the name “goat” anyway. Any idea?”
“No details from our asset on that but when you look at the guy’s photo it’s not hard to guess. He has a goatee and his eyebrows are heavy and turn up like horns”
“Ok Tom. Good work on staying abreast of those tangos and where they are. Don’t for Christ sake let them get out of sight or lose that asset with all that info. These guys are up to no good and have a definite plan in mind.”
“Will do General.”
*Chapter 4
Nawabshsh Pakistan Museum Sah Kabarsa
December, 1998
Adib was resplendent in his American tailored Brooks three piece and his Alan Edmond four hundred dollar shoes. He turned heads of both men and women in the entrance of the museum as he signed in to see the exhibition of the jewels of King Solomon that was to be displayed only three days in this remote city of Nawabshsh. It was not enough that the museum was built on grounds that made it hard to get to from any of the hotels in town; it also had some very steep steps to climb to get to the special exhibition rooms. He was again reminded how out of condition he really was. If this was three years prior he would have climbed the steps without even a bit of perspiration. At that time he had just finished his training in Kabul and was on his way to the university in the United States. His father had set the plan for his son to follow for the next fifteen years in order to keep the family name in front of the powers in the international banking world. His identity as that of a member of a sleeper cell for the Taliban had been well protected. He traveled throughout the world using commercial air transportation with no problems.
She was just entering the viewing area when he glanced her way. He stopped and had to look again. Yes, it was Sadaqua. She had not changed that much in the past three years and still had the unmistaken poise in her walk that separated her from all the American girls he knew at the university. She was beautiful and apparently, alone here.
He maneuvered closer in back of her and in a voice as calm and without a trace of his Pakistani accent he said; “Fight on for USC and on to victory”
When she wheeled around to see where the voice came from, he continued; “You meet the nicest people in these cultural centers. One of the reasons I frequent one whenever I am in town. Hello Sadaqua.”
“Adib!”
“You remember my name. I sincerely hope you remember our friendship dear classmate of 1995”
“I can not believe that it is you! You have not aged a bit handsome one!”
“Still the silver tongued politician as ever Doctor Altaf. It is good to see you. May I join you as we review these beautiful treasures from the past?”
“I’d like that Adib. We have much to talk about. I last heard of you when I was reading a newspaper in Britain. You have been making quite a name for yourself in the banking world. All good I sincerely hope?”
“Unless you are one of my competitors seeking to lower the currency exchange.” Adib smiled.
The two college friends continued through the museum and then over coffee Sadaqua related how she had entered the university there in Nawabshsh as a research technician. Her department had been given a grant to research a certain characteristic of cancer cells during metastasis. She invited Adib to visit her lab the following day at the university if he was to be in town?
“I was to leave early in the morning dear lady but I can not pass the opportunity to see your world that has kept you from meeting and marrying a rich professor” He chided as they parted.
Her laboratory was nothing less than spectacular when it came to equipment and facilities. There were spectrophotometers, computers and MRI machines along with a myriad of electron microscopes. All this was surrounded with lab cages and animals.
“Quite a zoo you have here Sadaqua.” Adib said as he peered into a cage that held two monkeys with shaved heads.
“We have a track on a process within the animal world of survival that may offer great rewards.”
“Survival?”
“The different values of how venom proceeds through the circulation system. In some cases and certain animals, the proteinaceous action is amazingly fast.”
“You mean how quick one of these nice little reptiles can kill you.-right?”
“Actually not so much HOW they can kill, it’s the speed or the metastasis of the venom. For instance, see this little green fellow here? She pointed to a glass cage that contained a very small green viper not more than six inches long.
“He can kill a water buffalo in less than two minutes after injection.”
“Incredible.” Remarked Adib.
“I have heard that those little guys have a terrific punch that paralyzes the nervous system.” Continued Adib.
“We thought it was the nervous system also until we did some micro analysis of the process that kills his prey. It’s actually a process that immediately removes all oxygen from the victim’s blood stream red cells. Without oxygen to muscles, brain cells and vital organs, all systemic functions cease.”
“I’m impressed.” Said Adib.
I’m glad there are not many of these little fellows crawling around in our world with that kind of potential.”
“In reality, we found that it is possible to duplicate the venom metastasis synthetically. We do not need to use the animal. Even when diluted the synthetic venom carries a lethal punch. We are attempting to use that process in a controlled release that is activated by another chemical or hormone.” Sadaqua was involved in her work and enjoyed relating what the University was doing to assist in the research for cancer but Adib had to leave to catch his flight.
When Quantas flight 1209 reached cruising altitude, Adib laid his seat back and prepared to catch some rest before they arrived in Zurich. He thought of how nice it was to see Sadaqua again and secondly, how this relationship and her work could prove very beneficial to him and his acquaintances. Very beneficial indeed.
Chapter 5
Intelligence work requires patience and focus
Mazar I Sharif Afghanistan itself was a good sized city but the camp and training area was a hundred and twenty kilometers from there. It was hot, dry and very remote. Haydar and not seen others with the exception of new recruits arriving and the people that occasionally brought food and supplies for many months. His training had moved from the classroom instructions in Iran where he was taught the meaning of the true believers and the ways of the Mujahideen to this desolate wasteland He never cared for the food that he and his comrades were given at this place or the living conditions. There was an argument going on in the next sleeping cubicle and the participants were yelling at each other and hitting the wall and moving furniture As he lay back and placed his arms over his head trying to go to sleep, he thought back over the past few years since he had seen his mother and closed his eyes. He was back at the warehouse in Iran with his friends.
“You have never had the experience of flying on one of the great aircraft we see in the sky over our encampment have you Engineer?” Asked the man that was to be in charge of moving the twelve “students” to their next location. “No master but I am not afraid. I want to have the experience so I can tell my mother the circles I am traveling in. she thinks I am begging on the streets of this country and living in alleys.” Haydar had not had a letter from his mother in the past five months and even then she exhibited her disgust that lingered from his choice to join this group now two years ago.
The distance from Mashhad to Mazar I Sharif was not that far but the purpose of the trip provided the opportunity to request a passport and further establish his identity. It had
“What have you heard from D J General? I know that he left several months ago for the states and was to enter the point but I have neglected to ask how he is doing.” Asked Capt Tom More.
“He is doing just fine Captain. Thanks for asking.” Replied the General.
“You will get to see him in about another six weeks when you take your new assignment at the Pentagon right?
“Well some much needed vacation time Tom and then we will see if we can spend a weekend with him at the point. As you know, undergrads don’t get much free time in their first year but seeing as his company commander Ron Wetmore was my roommate at the point in 63, I might be able to get DJ a “special assignment” for a few days.” The general smiled.
Speaking of special assignments, I want you to keep me wired in on that group we discussed back in June. We named the file Saih. What do we have in the way of updates on that group?”
Pretty thin as of the last thirty days sir. We did manage to get our operative in country bribe some border guards into getting some photographs and fingerprints.”
“You amaze me Captain. How did you manage that?
“Required identification for all students crossing the Iranian border sir. They fell for it and we lined up all twenty six of them and got positive I.D. Our asset there informs us that the leader never reported it so far as he knows because it would show he was asleep at the switch by letting the Iranian guys do this. We have run all the prints and there is no record or problems with any of the group as of this date. One interesting aspect of tracing their family records developed an interesting bit of info.
“And that is ,…what?” asked the General as he took a second cup of morning coffee from the tray.
“The kid they have named “the goat” has a pretty famous grandpa.”
“Goat? These individuals already have their Mujahideen names? So who is his grandfather?”
“None other than Izzat Lbrahim al Duri”
“What is the reliability factor on that intel? Do we know this as of when? Christ you would think that the guys in third army G2 and our DIA would be shadowing every move this kid makes. How did he get across the border?”
“Well, it appears that when they named him “the goat” he got pretty angry and said his grandfather would be ashamed of him with a name like that. When asked who his grandpa was he replied Izzat…… and then caught himself. Our asset reported that and DIA tracked him back from where they picked him up in Tikrit. Checks out so far as we can tell. He doesn’t seem to get any special favors in the group so maybe his bosses don’t know of his bloodline.”
“We know anything about the stuff they are training these guys?”
“Usual indoc stuff for the first six months or so. Playing with their heads and pumping up the glory of killing yourself for the future of Islam and the whole six yards with the seventy two virgins waiting on them story.”
“Keep me wired on this Tom. I don’t know for sure where they are going to put me when I report to the pentagon but I’d like to be someplace in counter terrorism and this could be useful. By the way. How did the kid get the name “goat” anyway. Any idea?”
“No details from our asset on that but when you look at the guy’s photo it’s not hard to guess. He has a goatee and his eyebrows are heavy and turn up like horns”
“Ok Tom. Good work on staying abreast of those tangos and where they are. Don’t for Christ sake let them get out of sight or lose that asset with all that info. These guys are up to no good and have a definite plan in mind.”
“Will do General.”
*Chapter 4
Nawabshsh Pakistan Museum Sah Kabarsa
December, 1998
Adib was resplendent in his American tailored Brooks three piece and his Alan Edmond four hundred dollar shoes. He turned heads of both men and women in the entrance of the museum as he signed in to see the exhibition of the jewels of King Solomon that was to be displayed only three days in this remote city of Nawabshsh. It was not enough that the museum was built on grounds that made it hard to get to from any of the hotels in town; it also had some very steep steps to climb to get to the special exhibition rooms. He was again reminded how out of condition he really was. If this was three years prior he would have climbed the steps without even a bit of perspiration. At that time he had just finished his training in Kabul and was on his way to the university in the United States. His father had set the plan for his son to follow for the next fifteen years in order to keep the family name in front of the powers in the international banking world. His identity as that of a member of a sleeper cell for the Taliban had been well protected. He traveled throughout the world using commercial air transportation with no problems.
She was just entering the viewing area when he glanced her way. He stopped and had to look again. Yes, it was Sadaqua. She had not changed that much in the past three years and still had the unmistaken poise in her walk that separated her from all the American girls he knew at the university. She was beautiful and apparently, alone here.
He maneuvered closer in back of her and in a voice as calm and without a trace of his Pakistani accent he said; “Fight on for USC and on to victory”
When she wheeled around to see where the voice came from, he continued; “You meet the nicest people in these cultural centers. One of the reasons I frequent one whenever I am in town. Hello Sadaqua.”
“Adib!”
“You remember my name. I sincerely hope you remember our friendship dear classmate of 1995”
“I can not believe that it is you! You have not aged a bit handsome one!”
“Still the silver tongued politician as ever Doctor Altaf. It is good to see you. May I join you as we review these beautiful treasures from the past?”
“I’d like that Adib. We have much to talk about. I last heard of you when I was reading a newspaper in Britain. You have been making quite a name for yourself in the banking world. All good I sincerely hope?”
“Unless you are one of my competitors seeking to lower the currency exchange.” Adib smiled.
The two college friends continued through the museum and then over coffee Sadaqua related how she had entered the university there in Nawabshsh as a research technician. Her department had been given a grant to research a certain characteristic of cancer cells during metastasis. She invited Adib to visit her lab the following day at the university if he was to be in town?
“I was to leave early in the morning dear lady but I can not pass the opportunity to see your world that has kept you from meeting and marrying a rich professor” He chided as they parted.
Her laboratory was nothing less than spectacular when it came to equipment and facilities. There were spectrophotometers, computers and MRI machines along with a myriad of electron microscopes. All this was surrounded with lab cages and animals.
“Quite a zoo you have here Sadaqua.” Adib said as he peered into a cage that held two monkeys with shaved heads.
“We have a track on a process within the animal world of survival that may offer great rewards.”
“Survival?”
“The different values of how venom proceeds through the circulation system. In some cases and certain animals, the proteinaceous action is amazingly fast.”
“You mean how quick one of these nice little reptiles can kill you.-right?”
“Actually not so much HOW they can kill, it’s the speed or the metastasis of the venom. For instance, see this little green fellow here? She pointed to a glass cage that contained a very small green viper not more than six inches long.
“He can kill a water buffalo in less than two minutes after injection.”
“Incredible.” Remarked Adib.
“I have heard that those little guys have a terrific punch that paralyzes the nervous system.” Continued Adib.
“We thought it was the nervous system also until we did some micro analysis of the process that kills his prey. It’s actually a process that immediately removes all oxygen from the victim’s blood stream red cells. Without oxygen to muscles, brain cells and vital organs, all systemic functions cease.”
“I’m impressed.” Said Adib.
I’m glad there are not many of these little fellows crawling around in our world with that kind of potential.”
“In reality, we found that it is possible to duplicate the venom metastasis synthetically. We do not need to use the animal. Even when diluted the synthetic venom carries a lethal punch. We are attempting to use that process in a controlled release that is activated by another chemical or hormone.” Sadaqua was involved in her work and enjoyed relating what the University was doing to assist in the research for cancer but Adib had to leave to catch his flight.
When Quantas flight 1209 reached cruising altitude, Adib laid his seat back and prepared to catch some rest before they arrived in Zurich. He thought of how nice it was to see Sadaqua again and secondly, how this relationship and her work could prove very beneficial to him and his acquaintances. Very beneficial indeed.
Chapter 5
Intelligence work requires patience and focus
Mazar I Sharif Afghanistan itself was a good sized city but the camp and training area was a hundred and twenty kilometers from there. It was hot, dry and very remote. Haydar and not seen others with the exception of new recruits arriving and the people that occasionally brought food and supplies for many months. His training had moved from the classroom instructions in Iran where he was taught the meaning of the true believers and the ways of the Mujahideen to this desolate wasteland He never cared for the food that he and his comrades were given at this place or the living conditions. There was an argument going on in the next sleeping cubicle and the participants were yelling at each other and hitting the wall and moving furniture As he lay back and placed his arms over his head trying to go to sleep, he thought back over the past few years since he had seen his mother and closed his eyes. He was back at the warehouse in Iran with his friends.
“You have never had the experience of flying on one of the great aircraft we see in the sky over our encampment have you Engineer?” Asked the man that was to be in charge of moving the twelve “students” to their next location. “No master but I am not afraid. I want to have the experience so I can tell my mother the circles I am traveling in. she thinks I am begging on the streets of this country and living in alleys.” Haydar had not had a letter from his mother in the past five months and even then she exhibited her disgust that lingered from his choice to join this group now two years ago.
The distance from Mashhad to Mazar I Sharif was not that far but the purpose of the trip provided the opportunity to request a passport and further establish his identity. It had
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