Interdiction, W.Addison Gast [room on the broom read aloud .txt] 📗
- Author: W.Addison Gast
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her again until the next day.”
“You mean that,-------“
“Right Captain, we think that the supreme one left a bun in the oven and if so, we now have his DIA.”
“Kind of speculative isn’t it? I mean, it could have been prior to the mountain night.”
“Maybe but the coroner says the time coincides with the mountain overnight stay. We have tested the goat and Ali Baba and they are negative so when you get Haydar, we can eliminate him as well. I think we have what Interpol and a whole lot of law enforcement types the world over have been looking for. You know he is supposed to be using a kidney dialogist machine—this could make it easier to find where he is getting his treatments.”
“Ok Dan. If you don’t have anything else, we’ll see you at the Monday morning meeting.”
“That’s it boss. We’ll see you and Agent McBean then. Have a good flight.”
“Wait a min Dan.—how did you know that Charlene is going to be with me?”
“Her name is on the passenger manifest for Big Bird Captain.”
“Bye Dan.” (click)
Charlene drove DJ back to his quarters at Lackland AFB and as they parted, agreed to pick him up at 0630 tomorrow for the flight to Arlington.
DJ called his family and informed them they would have one additional house guest for the week end. His mother was excited beyond description to think that her son had finally decided that it was time for a woman in his life. The General only raised an eyebrow upon hearing the information.
EPILOGUE
Austin Texas, the following week.
American cities lack the infrastructure for the general public. Very little or no public transportation exists. People are also ignorant in respect to helping strangers with information on train depots, bus stations and the like. They know nothing of these things even in their own community. Haydar’s thoughts wondered but he was finally on a bus headed for Austin. His clothes were covered with mud and he needed a change to keep from being so obvious in the crowd. When the bus arrived in Austin he looked across the street at the red sign with the shield. Salvation Army Store. He had heard of the organization in his training. This was a good place to purchase clothing for a nominal fee and he would not appear to be wearing a complete set of newly purchased clothes. For the first time in the last three days, his luck appeared to be getting better. He came out of the store wearing some American levis shorts and a t-shirt. The shoes were uncomfortable but better than the heavy boots he was given in Houston when his group landed. The address on thirty-second street was right and he saw the large neon sign above the entrance; KASABIEN’S. Some small signs were pasted on the window denoting the specialties of Pakistani and Indian food available. This was the place Badra described to him. It had to be. This was his only chance to make contact with his Islamic brothers in this infidel’s hell hole of a country. He would wait and watch the happenings before he tried to enter the restaurant. He was on his own now. No Goat or Badra to help him. What about Goat? Did they kill him as they did Badra? Was he taken prisoner? Haydar’s thoughts were running wild when he saw the three bearded men get out of the car and enter the restaurant. They were all well dressed. One was obviously a banker or a person of wealth. He had expensive shoes and a silk tie. When the restaurant owner greeted them it was in the typical Middle Eastern fashion of cheek to cheek and opposite. They were all smiling. He could wait no longer as it was getting late and the store would soon close. He crossed the street and opened the door letting two students from the University out before he entered somewhat unnoticed. He took a seat in the rear close to the kitchen. AS he sat he welcomed the sound of people in the kitchen and the other tables speaking Pashto and dialects of Afghan .
The waiter approached Haydar and laid a menu and glass of water in front of him. Haydar was surprised when the waiter, a young bearded man greeted him in Afghan.
Haydar replied to the waiter in his same language the greeting while looking around the room to see if the conversation was being heard by any others. It obviously was not. He blended into the crowd in the restaurant and for the first time in two days, felt relaxed.
“I would like some Bolaanee. Not just any Bolaanee, I’d like it made with goat meat.”
The waiter gave Haydar a closer look. His expression became stern as he quizzed Haydar closer.
“How is that made may I ask?” Said the Waiter.
“My mother knows how. I would have to call her and ask.”
“I will bring you the owner my brother. Please relax while I go and get him. You are among friends.”
Imprint
“You mean that,-------“
“Right Captain, we think that the supreme one left a bun in the oven and if so, we now have his DIA.”
“Kind of speculative isn’t it? I mean, it could have been prior to the mountain night.”
“Maybe but the coroner says the time coincides with the mountain overnight stay. We have tested the goat and Ali Baba and they are negative so when you get Haydar, we can eliminate him as well. I think we have what Interpol and a whole lot of law enforcement types the world over have been looking for. You know he is supposed to be using a kidney dialogist machine—this could make it easier to find where he is getting his treatments.”
“Ok Dan. If you don’t have anything else, we’ll see you at the Monday morning meeting.”
“That’s it boss. We’ll see you and Agent McBean then. Have a good flight.”
“Wait a min Dan.—how did you know that Charlene is going to be with me?”
“Her name is on the passenger manifest for Big Bird Captain.”
“Bye Dan.” (click)
Charlene drove DJ back to his quarters at Lackland AFB and as they parted, agreed to pick him up at 0630 tomorrow for the flight to Arlington.
DJ called his family and informed them they would have one additional house guest for the week end. His mother was excited beyond description to think that her son had finally decided that it was time for a woman in his life. The General only raised an eyebrow upon hearing the information.
EPILOGUE
Austin Texas, the following week.
American cities lack the infrastructure for the general public. Very little or no public transportation exists. People are also ignorant in respect to helping strangers with information on train depots, bus stations and the like. They know nothing of these things even in their own community. Haydar’s thoughts wondered but he was finally on a bus headed for Austin. His clothes were covered with mud and he needed a change to keep from being so obvious in the crowd. When the bus arrived in Austin he looked across the street at the red sign with the shield. Salvation Army Store. He had heard of the organization in his training. This was a good place to purchase clothing for a nominal fee and he would not appear to be wearing a complete set of newly purchased clothes. For the first time in the last three days, his luck appeared to be getting better. He came out of the store wearing some American levis shorts and a t-shirt. The shoes were uncomfortable but better than the heavy boots he was given in Houston when his group landed. The address on thirty-second street was right and he saw the large neon sign above the entrance; KASABIEN’S. Some small signs were pasted on the window denoting the specialties of Pakistani and Indian food available. This was the place Badra described to him. It had to be. This was his only chance to make contact with his Islamic brothers in this infidel’s hell hole of a country. He would wait and watch the happenings before he tried to enter the restaurant. He was on his own now. No Goat or Badra to help him. What about Goat? Did they kill him as they did Badra? Was he taken prisoner? Haydar’s thoughts were running wild when he saw the three bearded men get out of the car and enter the restaurant. They were all well dressed. One was obviously a banker or a person of wealth. He had expensive shoes and a silk tie. When the restaurant owner greeted them it was in the typical Middle Eastern fashion of cheek to cheek and opposite. They were all smiling. He could wait no longer as it was getting late and the store would soon close. He crossed the street and opened the door letting two students from the University out before he entered somewhat unnoticed. He took a seat in the rear close to the kitchen. AS he sat he welcomed the sound of people in the kitchen and the other tables speaking Pashto and dialects of Afghan .
The waiter approached Haydar and laid a menu and glass of water in front of him. Haydar was surprised when the waiter, a young bearded man greeted him in Afghan.
Haydar replied to the waiter in his same language the greeting while looking around the room to see if the conversation was being heard by any others. It obviously was not. He blended into the crowd in the restaurant and for the first time in two days, felt relaxed.
“I would like some Bolaanee. Not just any Bolaanee, I’d like it made with goat meat.”
The waiter gave Haydar a closer look. His expression became stern as he quizzed Haydar closer.
“How is that made may I ask?” Said the Waiter.
“My mother knows how. I would have to call her and ask.”
“I will bring you the owner my brother. Please relax while I go and get him. You are among friends.”
Imprint
Publication Date: 04-11-2011
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