A three person Middle Eastern Terrorist cell made its way from a training camp in Saudi Arabia through South America and across the border into Arizona.  Their initial mission to steal a top secret Laser Guided Electromagnetic Pulse device was a murderous success.  They were equally successful in transporting the device to the Seattle, Washington area after a narrow escape from the U. S. Government’s top secret Terrorist Activity Control Team (TACT).

     The team had recruited, Polygraphist/ Private Investigator, John Bodie to conduct examinations on the staff of the secret facility.  Due to suspicious activity in a small county in Washington State, the team with Bodie, relocated their investigative efforts.  The investigation paid off, but the terrorist repeatedly remained one step ahead of the team.

     The team, however, was relentless in their efforts to track the secret device.  They followed it to Seattle, Bellingham, Everett and back to Tukwila, Washington.  They destroyed a northwest terrorist cell and killed half of the cell that stole the weapon.  The leader of the northwest terrorist activity cell was captured.  Through the polygraphs of John Bodie, the team was able to locate the device and take it out of action seconds prior to the assassination attempt on the President of the United States.

      Before two of the terrorist were captured and two others escaped, Bodie was beaten and left for dead.  Silvi Awarki, a deadly female member of the Saudi Arabian cell, had been seriously wounded by Bodie’s friend, private investigator, Karen Anders, and Silvi was being cared for by a terrorist doctor and Awarki’s friend, Zohreh Safa, in a hidden location and was unable to accompany the escaping terrorists-Abdel al-Dikheel and Farouk Allawi.

Los Angeles, California

December 12, 2006

Tuesday

6:01 p.m. PST

al-Qaida Safe House

     The escaped terrorists were unaware that they would soon be involved in an attempt to create a nuclear holocaust in Central Florida.  The Terrorist Activity Control Team and their unique friend, the polygraphist/private investigator John Bodie, is the only hope of stopping it.  However, as Bodie swims for his life in the alligator infested water, the fate of hundreds of thousands of human beings and decades of devastation appear imminent.

      After they fled their failed Presidential assassination in Seattle, the two terrorists arrived in Los Angeles.  They located the safe house and parked by the curb in front.  The two exited their comfortable Lincoln and walked up the cracked walkway to the house.  They rang the bell and were met by an olive skinned-man of average height, weight and about forty years of age.  The older of the two travelers spoke first.

     “I am Abdel al-Dikheel,” said the forty-nine year old, five feet, eight inch 180 pound Saudi Arabian.

     “Abdel al-Dikheel it is good to meet you.  I have heard much about you through the years.  We had gotten word of the unfortunate events in Seattle.  I know how you must feel.  What can we do to help?” asked the Saudi Arabian as he led them into the house.  “I am sorry; I am Abdullah Qatari.”

     “It is good to meet you as well, Abdullah Qatari.  I understand that you have numerous cells and many objectives.  Farouk and I…by the way, this was rude of me, I’d like you to meet Farouk Allawi, my lieutenant.”

      “Farouk, I am honored to meet you as well.  I understand your cell fought bravely to the end.  I am truly saddened by your loss.”

      “Thank you Abdullah Qatari,” replied the twenty-eight year old, five feet nine inch, 175 pound Iranian.

      “Gentlemen, we can dispense with the formal greetings now.  I know that you must be tired after your trip.  You can rest here tonight, but first, please accept my hospitality and enjoy some nourishment.  Come sit at the table with us.”

      After numerous requests from those at the table, al-Dikheel informed everyone of the disaster in Seattle.  He told them first of Farouk’s cell’s successful, murderous theft of the secret laser weapon and the bloody fights to keep it.  He gave details of his torture by the Top Secret Terrorist Activity Control Team, and the last minute loss of the weapon seconds before it would have assassinated The President of the United States.  Farouk, taking the nod from al-Dikheel, continued with the capture of Bandar Otaibi, al-Dikheel’s lieutenant, and Abdul Aziz, Otaibi’s assistant, both of whom were transporting the secret weapon.

      Al-Dikheel continued the narration of events with the heroic efforts of Silvi Awarki, as well as, the endurance of Zohreh Safa during her capture.  He explained that Silvi was recuperating from her wound and that both women should soon return to the service of Allah.  Speaking of the return to the service of Allah, he said he would like to speak to Abdullah regarding that.

      “Abdel, my brother, get some rest tonight, and we will discuss this in the morning.  We will have our morning meal and address business after that.”

      Al-Dikheel and Farouk were tired and welcomed the chance to rest.  It allowed al-Dikheel time to prepare for his discussion with Qatari tomorrow.

               *                       *                       *

Seattle, Washington

December 13, 2006

Wednesday

5:30 a.m. PST

Office of Dr. Hassen

      “Why are we doing this so early Doctor?” asked Silvi Awarki, the five feet, seven inch, 120 pound, and black haired Iranian beauty.

      “You have made a miraculous recovery Silvi, and you are strong enough to leave,” advised the Syrian doctor as he walked her toward the office door.  “Zohreh will drive up to the front in a few minutes.  I want to have you moved before it is completely daylight.  We cannot afford for you to be caught or my operation compromised.  I will check on you in a week or so.  Zohreh likes the living arrangements I have arranged for the two of you and I am sure that you will like it also.  You have everything?  You have your cell phone?”

      “Yes.  Thank you for healing me; I will see you soon.”  All she had was a plastic bag with a few hygiene items, medical supplies and an extra set of under clothing as she stepped out on the street.  The $2500 cash that the doctor had placed in the bag would help; it was everything that she owned.

      Silvi was forced to leave her last two residences without warning, leaving everything behind.  She had killed two military policemen while being instrumental in stealing the prototype of a top secret Laser Guided Electromagnetic Pulse weapon.  The attractive terrorist kidnapped a top secret scientist and murdered the female owner of the vehicle she carjacked.  Her attempt to kill John Bodie’s friend and private investigator, Karen Anders, had resulted in Anders shooting first and critically wounding Silvi.  Her cell leader and lover had been forced to leave her behind when Anders located the secret weapon. The private investigator and Terrorist Activity Control Team that Anders was helping captured it and two of the cell members.

  Zohreh Safa lost her significant other in the same fire fight in which Silvi was wounded.  This left her bitter and more mentally effected than anyone realized.  She had been alone for three months and was looking forward to the company as she pulled up in front of the doctor’s office.  Silvi made a quick check of the area and hurriedly entered the car.  They drove down the hill to Interstate 5 in the sparse early morning traffic, then south to the Columbia Street exit and up the hill into the Beacon Hill area.  Zohreh stopped in the driveway and ran over and raised the garage door.  She jumped back in the car and drove inside, where she immediately hopped out and closed the garage door before Silvi could even get out of the car.

  Zohreh was the only member of her cell who was not killed or captured.  She had been captured but was freed several days later by Bandar Otaibi prior to his capture.  She helped care for Silvi at first, but since her picture had been circulated in the American intelligence community, she had been forced to stay away from the doctor’s office.  The doctor had provided transportation and a place for them to stay until Silvi was well enough to travel.

                *                       *                       *

Los Angeles

7:04 a.m. PST

      “I trust last night’s respite and this morning’s meal have put new life in the two of you?” questioned Qatari.

      “Yes, you and your people have been most gracious and we are truly in your debt,” replied al-Dikheel.

      “Nonsense, this was our pleasure.  It was the least we could do for our warrior brothers from the north.  Follow me and we shall talk,” ordered Qatari.  The three men rose from the table and walked out to the front porch and enjoyed the cool morning air.

      “At the present time Farouk and I are available to assist you in any endeavor you may have planned.  We have not heard from our Sheik Abdulla Othman as to what plans he has for us,” said al-Dikheel leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped in front of him.

      “Abdel, I would like nothing more than to make use of your experience and skill, but frankly you are a security risk to us.  Your picture and information has been disseminated throughout the US intelligence network.  The west coast is not a safe place for you or anyone connected to you.  It pains me to say this but you must leave us today.  Until you hear from our leader, I recommend you travel east…far and fast.  Is there anything I can be of help with before you go?” Qatari asked, placing his hand on al Dikheel’s shoulder.

      “I am sorry to have placed you at risk.  There is one thing you could do if you would,” requested al-Dikheel.

       “Name it my friend.”

      “Could we get a different vehicle?  I believe this one is clean, but I am not sure.  You can have it; I’m sure you can make it safe.”

  “You will have your vehicle within the hour.”

                *                       *                       *

Walla Walla, Washington

9:59 a.m. PST

      “I can’t understand why the snow is late in coming this year,” mused Hazel Harwood, peering out her front room window.  “Usually by November…”  She was interrupted in mid sentence.

      “Mommy, mommy,” hollered little Jimmy Harwood crashing through the front door, “She’s gone.  Tammy’s gone.”

      “What do you mean, Tammy’s gone?” asked Harwood as she kneeled down on one knee in her attempt to calm her son.

      “The man took her.”

      “What man…Where?” Jimmy’s aunt, Grace Franklin screamed.  

  Both cups of coffee on the coffee table spilled as she bumped it and ran outside. Looking up and down the tree-lined street, she began to cry.  “Jimmy, where is my baby girl?”

      Jimmy, sobbed, “We were playing in the yard when the man stopped and asked us questions.  We couldn’t hear him where we were so we went to his car.  His car door was open and he leaned over to say something.  Then he grabbed her and took off.”

      “Oh, my God, call the police Hazel.  He can’t be far.  It hasn’t been that long.”

      Hazel, Grace’s sister, was already on the telephone.  She gave the police dispatcher all the required information and was told that they would get an Amber Alert out immediately.  She was also informed that an officer would be stopping by.

      Grace, who was now crying hysterically said, “We’re so far from home.  What will John do when he finds out?  How am I going to tell him?  My little girl, I’m so afraid for her.”  She prayed, “God, please don’t let her get hurt, please keep her safe.  Protect her and bring her back to me.”

      “Now Jimmy,” questioned his mother, Hazel, after returning to the house and standing him in front of her as she sat on the couch, “You’re sure the car was red?”

      “Yes, mommy, I may be only five but I know my colors.  It was a big car too.”  Jimmy was shaking as the tears ran down his cheeks.

      “Big like long or big like tall?”

      “It was kinda like a box, you know, like Mr. Pointer’s car.”

      “A minivan, it’s a red minivan,” she said as she dialed the telephone again.  “That is a big help, son.”

            
                   *                       *                       *

    Vallejo, Washington

    10:46 a.m. PST

      “Hey John, stop that infernal machine for a minute,” yelled Vallejo Police Chief Frederick Raul Sortis-Ortega as he waved him down.

      The big 2005, camouflaged, Yamaha Kodiak 400 automatic 4x4 Quad pulled to the curb in front of the police station.  “Come on Fred, I wasn’t speeding,” said John Bodie with his usual smile as he shut the big engine down.

      “We just received an Amber Alert, and I thought since you’re going God knows where, on that butt buster, you might want to keep an eye out.”

      “You bet.  Fill me in.”

  The chief gave John the description of the female child and the van.  He also told him she had been taken from the city of Walla Walla which is about twenty-five miles south of Vallejo.  It happened approximately forty-five minutes ago.  “I thought if you weren’t going anywhere in particular, you might want to ride down that way.  There’s some old dirt roads and pull off locations between the highway up here and there.  What do you think?”

 “I’d be glad to, like you said, I wasn’t going anywhere in particular anyway.  I’ll give you a shout if I find anything.  I’ll be back in time to let you buy me dinner.  See you later.”  John wound up the quad and headed south.

 He crossed Highway 124 about four minutes later and then continued south.  Approximately two miles past the Touchet River, he found a dirt road leading off to the southwest.  The county mounties, police and the troopers are probably covering the main roads.  I think I’ll try some of the side roads.  With that thought in mind, he turned onto the dirt road and continued southbound with a dust cloud following him.

  A few minutes later he spotted a red minivan parked about fifty yards west of the road.  John was lucky to see it through the cluster of pine trees and brush.  If it hadn’t been for the grass that was freshly mashed by the tires of the vehicle he would have probably missed it.

  He shut down the big quad leaving it on the shoulder of the road and rushed through the trees and brush to the suspicious vehicle.  As he quietly approached, he heard a child’s voice holler, “I don’t want to play that game.”  John moved rapidly to the van and yanked open the side door and reached in to grab the male but was kicked back out of the van.  The man attempted to crawl forward into the driver’s seat when John leaned into the van again and dragged him out.

  The man swung his right fist at John.  John quickly stepped inside the swing with his left arm raised and encircled the man’s left upper arm.  With his right hand he grabbed the man’s face and pushed as he yanked upward with his left arm.  He heard the shoulder pop and the man scream out in pain.  The subject fell back against the van.  John yanked the man’s belt off and put it around the perpetrator’s ankles, tightened it down and secured it.

  “Don’t touch that belt.  If you so much as lean over, I will make a pancake out of your face with my foot.  There’s no fun in fighting a one-armed man, but I will do what I have to do.”  He leaned into the van and coaxed the little girl out.

  “I’m scared, I want to go home,” she whimpered.  “I don’t know where I am.  I want my mommy.”

  “Honey, you’re safe as you can be now.  I’m going to call someone to come and take you to your mommy.  What is your name?”

“Tammy…I’m five,” she sobbed.

“Well, miss five-year-old Tammy; do you have a last name?”

“Of course,” she mumbled giving John an indignant look, “It’s Franklin and we don’t live here.”

John held her in one arm while he dialed the Vallejo Police Department on his cell phone and kept a close eye on the perpetrator.

“Vallejo Police Department,” answered Barbara, the chief’s administrative assistant at the front desk.

“Hi there, you cute little bugger, can I interest you in a sweet little girl?  She is five years old and her name is Tammy Franklin,” John said with a wink at Tammy who now was close to smiling.

Barbara immediately recognized John’s voice, “Are you telling me that you have found the Amber Alert?”  Chief Ortega heard this and hurried out of his office looking at Barbara.

“Yes ma’am, and I also have an injured perp here that needs transportation.”

“I’ll get right on it.  Here’s Fred.”  Barbara handed Ortega the phone and grabbed the mike waiting for the chief to tell her the location.

“John, I don’t believe it.  You have luck like I’ve never seen.  I’m not going to ask how the perp got injured.  I probably don’t want to know.  Where the hell are you?”

John gave his location, the chief passed it on to Barbara, and she asked for any unit in the vicinity of that location.  Both a county unit and a Washington State Trooper responded, and she sent them both there.  She also asked the Walla Walla Police Department to contact the girl’s parents, and tell them that the young lady is safe and sound and at the present time in good hands.

The State Trooper was the first to arrive.  She parked her car behind the van.  John handed her the girl, who held tight to John and had to be encouraged to turn loose.  He asked her to get the child away from there as soon as possible. John didn’t want her traumatized anymore than she already was when they take the perp away.  He would write a full report and she could pick it up at the Vallejo PD in a few hours.

The trooper said that she could cuff the perp and get her cuffs back when she picked up the report.  John told her that he didn’t think the guy could put his arm behind him due to a dislocated shoulder and the county unit could do that when he arrived.  He convinced the state officer that the man wouldn’t be any problem.  The trooper put the victim in the car with a teddy bear that she kept in the car just for children, took John’s name and phone number, and was on her way to return the girl to a very happy mother.

The sheriff’s deputy arrived, called for a wrecker, took basic information from John and loaded the offender into his car.  He thanked John for his bravery and quick response and told him he would pick up John’s report at the Vallejo PD later.  John cringed when the deputy placed the cuffs on the man’s hands behind his back, as he cried out in pain.  John walked back to his quad watching the county unit drive away.

He rode back to Vallejo feeling like a million dollars.  He didn’t think that he had ever felt that good.  Life was wonderful; it was just getting better all the time.  He had no idea how much that was going to change.

              *                       *                       *

Las Vegas, Nevada

1:25 p.m. PST

al Qaida Safe House

     “Farouk, my brother, it is good to see you again.  What has it been, a year and half?” Mohammed Ahmad asked, as he hugged him.

     “Mohammed, I am surprised to see you.  I had no idea where you went when you left the camp.  I just awoke one day and you were gone,” responded Farouk still standing in the doorway.

     “You know we were sworn to secrecy and could not tell anyone when our orders came down.”

     “I want you to meet Sultan bin Abdel al-Dikheel.  He was in charge of the entire northwest region of this worthless country.”

     “I am honored to meet you, you are well known throughout our people,” Mohammed said stepping over and shaking hands with al-Dikheel.  “I am sorry for your loss.  The word had reached us of the situation in Seattle.”

     “How does the word travel so fast?” questioned Farouk.

     “There is still one in Seattle who reports to our national leader.  I suppose he wanted to warn every one of the dangers that might come from it.”

     Al-Dikheel looked surprised and asked, “What are these dangers of which you speak?”

     “I thought you had been told.  We are not to be seen with you or to be in contact with you.  You have gathered much notoriety within the intelligence community.  As the infidels would say, you are a ‘hot potato’.  You should talk to the leader and see how he plans to use you now.  I will make the contact and see if we can get instructions for you.  You are more than welcome to rest here while I make the call.  I will attempt to get permission for you to rest here overnight.”

              *                       *                       *

Vallejo

5:00 p.m. PST

“Here he is, Mr. Wonderful,” sang the pretty petite blonde waitress, Dede, as John entered the Town Café.  He had finished his ride, gone home, showered, changed clothes and completed his report in time for dinner.  The café was crowded with customers; all of whom turned, saw John and applauded.

John smiled, bowed and said, “Nothing goes unnoticed in this town, does it?”  Several of the customers stood and shook hands with John as he made his way to the rear of the café and to the back booth occupied by the Chief of Police and his dark haired, middle aged, well proportioned attractive administrative assistant.  As John approached the booth, Barbara got up from her side of the table and gave John a hug.  Fred Ortega got out of the booth and stood and shook John’s hand.  Barbara slid in on the chief’s side of the booth.  Dede rushed over and gave John a warm kiss and a hug.  This brought another round of applause from the customers.

“This is embarrassing, Fred,” whispered John as he bent over the table toward the chief.

“That’s the price of glory, John,” answered the chief, with a sincere smile which was unusual for him.

Dede, who had just finished her shift, slid into the booth ahead of John.  She and Barbara started in on John, begging him to tell them the details of the rescue.  Before he could start, Veronica walked over to the table.  She was Dede’s replacement and the definite champion when it came to swapping barbs with the chief.  It was almost a nightly event between the nice looking forty-six year old, brunette, slight build waitress and the Fifty-one year old, five feet, ten inch slightly overweight Chief with salt and pepper hair.

“Well Mr. Hero, Ray says that I can offer you anything that you would like to eat.  Your money is no good tonight.  That’s our contribution to a job well done.”

“Hey Roni, how about me?  I’m the one that told him about the Amber Alert,” asked the chief, trying to con her out of a free meal.  “I sent him down there.  I deserve something, don’t you think.”

“You know, you’re right Fred.  I’m going to give you…,” the chief began smiling in anticipation, “the opportunity to watch your friend John enjoy his meal.”

“Why does that woman hate me so?”

“Believe me Fred, it’s easy,” replied John.

“Don’t you two get started at each other; I want to hear all about what happened,” said Barbara.  John told them about the rescue, and then the food was served.  They enjoyed the conversation and experienced a few interruptions as customers stopped by to congratulate John.  Just as they finished, a little girl and her mother entered the restaurant.  Veronica met them at the door, spoke to them for a few seconds and led them to the back booth.

“Pardon me for interrupting, people.  John, this is Grace Franklin, Tammy’s mother.”

John stood and put out his hand.  She pushed it aside and hugged John with a strong tight hug, which seemed to John, to last for hours.  She backed away with tears in her eyes.

“Mr. Bodie, I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate what you did today.  Because of you, my little girl is safe and unharmed.  You’re a wonderful man.”

“Thank you Mrs. Franklin, but you don’t have to thank me.  The situation itself was the best thing that ever happened to me.  I’m thankful I was there.”

“Please Mr. Bodie, I have an envelope for you and I sincerely hope that you will accept it.”

“I can’t accept money from you.  It would take away from the good feeling I have over the whole event.”

“It isn’t money.  My husband John has been transferred to an assignment out of the country.  We’re on our way there and will be joining him next week and plan on spending a year with him.  We have a home on Boot Lake in Florida that will be sitting empty while we’re gone.  We would appreciate it if you would be our guest for as long as you like and enjoy the house and the fishing.  We have a boat and a thirty-foot dock.  The lake is stocked with bass, tilapia, catfish, brim and a few others that I can’t think of.  If you’d do that, it would help us with the maintenance and security.  It would mean a lot to us.”

“I’m a total stranger to you.  How in the world can you trust your home to a total stranger?”

“We know a lot about you.  I’ve asked around and I feel perfectly safe in my offer.”

After much discussion, John gave up and accepted the envelope with the information pertaining to the neighbor he was to contact for the key and instructions.  He promised he would take a vacation and go there.  She hugged him again and then Tammy came to John.  He picked her up and she hugged him.  The two of them left the café smiling with all the customers watching and smiling as well.

“Whoa, I don’t think I could handle another hug, Fred,” he said returning to the booth.

“I don’t want to hear that, I have a lot more than hugs planned for you tonight, my hero,” said Dede.

“Damn Dede, you enjoy giving me indigestion, don’t you,” complained the chief.”