Chapter 1 - Abel Danger penetrates the HUBZone
Jill the Ripper links to K Street lizards and a Con Air snuff ring
For early character development, see http://www.usdoj.gr/ebook/
Pilot David Hunter starts a new career to locate agents for Sister Amelia to penetrate a HUBZone and Con Air network of lesbian or bisexual women engaged in a conspiracy to destroy America. Hunter and Hamish fix meetings in the Foggy Dew and Dubai to give assignments to three new Abel Danger agents; George O., Shannon McKee, and Katie Mae Castro. Hamish offers Intel on an ICAO designator airline ‘DOJ’ with the call sign JUSTICE which coordinates contract hits from an unidentified location near Amelia’s office in Suite 450 at 1301 K Street Washington D.C. Hunter learns how the HUBZone business model was tested with a Jill the Ripper character at the British Columbia pig farm. Hamish falls asleep but then came the nightmare – images of a HUBZone sign outside the White House with Macbethian female lizards, looking like Cindy McCain, Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton, letting some men enter but no man out ...
Rolling over to answer the irritating ring of the bat-phone beside his bed, the ever affable, never flappable retired Captain David Hunter responded, eyes still closed, "David Hunter speaking".
Though his mind was somewhat slow to spin up due to the size of the previous evening's bedtime BSM, his ear recognized a voice from his past; a playful pleasant voice and he stuck his brain in overdrive trying to ID the voice before she might assume age had slowed his rapier-like wit. "David this is Bonnie, do you remember me?"
"Not to be rude at 6 in the morning but there have been a number of Bonnies who have come and gone over the course of my 58 years, give me another clue" responded the aging pilot as he looked under the covers to see if he'd fallen asleep in his blue jeans again.
“David, you always said I remind you of the Grand Tetons in Wyoming and.........."she was cut off in mid-clue. Yes, Bonnies come and Bonnies go and some you marry, don't you know, but the mention of the Grand Tetons allowed the retired airline captain to zero in with laser like precision, much like the Boeing drones that struck WTC 1 and 2.
“Bonnie 2B, I haven't talked to you since before the cowardly false flag attack back in 2001, hopefully you've escaped from Blue Skies and hopefully you are not calling to see if I will help the company out. Perhaps you are not aware but the company terminated me when the US DOJ thought I was getting a little too vocal with the truth of 9-11” explained the recently retired and still vocal Captain Intel. “Just a minute Bonnie, my cel is ringing, hang with me........David Hunter speaking........OK Hamish, let me call you right back I am on the bat-phone with Bonnie 2B, give me five and I will call your office number.......Sorry, Bonnie, it is starting to sound like a busy day is developing. Which reminds me, happy Pearl Harbor Day, Bonnie".
“David, I actually left Blue Skies long before you and you would have known that if you hadn't gone to the A320 and the DC10, however, I am working in Dublin now with Hanna Barbara Skytemps and we need someone like you for a flying gig, can you still pass a first class physical?”
“Give me six hours for the BSM to be processed by my world class liver and I can pass a physical this afternoon, if necessary. Otherwise, I had a flying physical on 9-13-07 so your answer is yes. However, I am not current on anything but could be current on the A320, A330 or DC10 with little effort”.
“David when it comes to little effort you are the master, however, no worries I am typing your proficiency check forms now for a PC that you just were awarded by technology. I
need to get your signature on the forms for the FAA so I can send them to you or you can
stop by Dublin or Amsterdam at your convenience. You do the flying, I’ll do the forms.
David, you continue to amaze me with your ability to recall details, how do you remember things like what day you had a physical, you must have been taking flying physicals for 40 years now“.
“Bonnie you give me too much credit. However, 9-13 was to be my mother's 84th birthday had she not succumbed to the ravages of cancer some 8 days earlier“.
“I am very sorry David, I didn't know“.
"Bonnie, how could you know, we haven't talked since back in 2001, time marches on. Now, about this flying gig, please send me an email as I need to get back to Hamish, a partner of mine in our Abel Danger mentor-protégé Intel network that has been lying dormant for a while, at least in the eyes of DOJ, FBI, CIA and the rest of the alphabet soup brigade. I will read the email while I am talking to Hamish. But if you and or Hanna Barbara Skytemps really need me, I will be there, gotta run" and David ended the call before the bearer of the Grand Tetons could say goodbye.
Piling out of the left side of his queen size bed David strolled to his desk, fired up his laptop and dialed Hamish on the hard line.
“Bull Dirham speaking” came the reply for Hamish as he obviously had caller ID installed since David had last had occasion to speak with him from the hard line. Most of their conversations took place of David’s cel phone with the bogus caller ID generator [ BCIG] or on the encrypted clipper technology they got from a sympathetic ally in Gatineau, Quebec. She had helped herself to several units when she left the employ of Tomoye where she had been a lurker for 3 years prior to losing her job for her heterosexual lifestyle. In the years 1993-2001 heterosexuals found it tough sledding in the US DOJ, the agencies, or private contractors sold out to “Suite 450”; stronger message to follow.
“Well you are certainly full of bull but since I dialed area code 604. I presume Dirham is an assumed name, but it has a similar ring to the UAE currency. So, what's got you up at 4 in the morning Hamish?”
“It's the pig-farm deal. I just met a new player who shall remain nameless but he assures me that contract killings are being done routinely in British Columbia as well as in the United States. Looks like the hits at the pig farm are organized by a radical lesbian group in your sister’s backyard in Washington D.C. with links to Janet Reno and DOJ Pride and a sex club on K-Street. DOJ is laundering money to pay local killers through HUBZone and Con Air revolving funds. They tested the HUBZone business model at the pig farm here; out of reach of FBI and RICO.Witness says there were a lot of women at the raves when the hookers got chain sawed on video; women into leather, whips, knives and shit like that. They say the leading woman in the hits was a homicidal maniac; scary character, street-hardened and menacing who procured the prostitutes and lured them to the pig farm. Kind of Jill the Ripper; she apparently despised sex-trade workers, especially the street walkers, and drug addicts. I have sent you a post that I just finished last night, after you read it call me back, I've got to go out and have my coffee across the street before 'she who is to be obeyed' wakes up”.
“Hold on there Mr. Caffeinated coward, I have read the piece on the Pig Farm and it seems that what we studied back in 2001 was fairly accurate then, and still not adjudicated today. So tell me this, in as much as this is Pearl Harbor day and the 15th anniversary of my retiring early from the Happy Hooligans, is there some task you wish for me to undertake prior to my going back to bed to finish off the dream from which you and Bonnie have interrupted me?”
“Well, give me several hours David as I have another meeting with a man I will call 'undertaker' and if his story is as accurate and as sinister as the bits and pieces he revealed yesterday, I think we need to get together in the next 30 days and plan a response. Do you have a contact number for Donald Cortege?”
“As a matter of fact I do, he just checked in via email from The Chelsea Tower in Dubai, UAE. Do you want his number there, or do you have it? And by the way, your anonymous or imaginary friend in BC will be written into the next book as 'Gravedigger' so we don't get him and Cortege mixed up, remember the definition of the word 'cortege'."
'Call him whoever you want but let me get a hold of Diehard and Gravedigger and get back to you after your lunchtime there in Fargo. By the way, what did Bonnie 2B want, she got fired from Blue Skies didn't she?'
“Correct you are Hamish. I don't know what she wanted, let me check my email, she knew I had to speak with you so she agreed to switch to email.......ah yes, here it is right between the ....deceitful Viagra spam and the UK Lottery Lucky Winner spam. I will read it aloud. [ David, I am working as a headhunter in Dublin for Hanna Barbara Skytemps. We have an urgent need for someone who has your skill set, time is tight, if you are willing to fly for money please email me or Hanna Barbara at email@example.com or firstname.lastname@example.org and the sooner the better.] That's all she wrote but she's got my curiosity up so as soon as you gaff me off in favor of coffee I will email her and get a tele-hookup going“.
“David, I certainly hope you don't go back to flying again, we have important work to finish with the pig-farm to see if it leads to a K Street snuff ring. Tell me you are not likely to accept a flying position..…” and before he could finish his whinesome rant David Hunter interrupted with “Two things to consider Hamish, The Grand Tetons”.
“David, that is only one thing“.
“Hamish, the mountain range near Jackson Hole may be one thing but Bonnie's Grand Tetons are definitely two things. But just to keep you happy I will offer up another thing, her email address is in the UK so it appears that good beer might be in the mix. And, no offense Hamish, but you and our investigative service pale in comparison to English beer and Bonnie's Grand Tetons“.
“David, you misspoke. If Bonnie is in Dublin that would be Irish beer…” again inviting to be interrupted by the loquacious opiner to wit “blow it out your ass Professor, who's writing this book, me or you?”
“Excellent point David, English beer, Irish beer it matters not, just wanted to show you that I was listening and staying mentally in the dynamic. Well, off for coffee, talk to you after lunch. Keep me in the loop regarding the Bonnie project”.
“Thanks Hamish, I will get back to by 1 pm my time, my cel's in my pocket, number ends in 4500” and with that the phone call ended. As David reread the email from Bonnie he noticed an attachment. Clicking on the attachment he read:
Requirement: One Airbus Captain , over water nighttime low level experience a must. Must be able to operate in harsh environments and perform with precision while sleep deprived. Successful candidate to be chosen NLT EOB 12-16-07 with 'in country' date prior to Valentines Day, 2008. POC Bonnie GT at email@example.com
After googling ‘skytemps + Dublin’ David found the international calling code for Ireland and the number for Skytemps. He looked at his watch and realized that it was about 1:30 PM in Dublin so he dialed direct via SKYPE. The receptionist who answered put David through to Bonnie right away.
'David, Bonnie, did you get a chance to read the email yet?'
'Yes I did, how many candidates do you have for the one position?'
"We don't have one yet, this mission just came to us from MI6 and Dancer this morning, they need their guy in country as early as 1 Feb, it you want the job, it's yours. I cannot give you many details over the phone but if you and your family would like a fairly large multiplier to your retired pay, email a response before 5 pm Dublin time today and I will show the position as filled."
"Bonnie, you know me better than that, let's not wait til 5pm, I'll take the job but give me some secure hints that will keep me satisfied until we meet face to face or get clippered up securely. Just give me three clues."
“Grolsch, former Soviet state, Kraz“.
“OK, I'm in, but where do you need me to bump into you at, as if by coincidence? And when?”
'4 pm, Dirty Nelly's, this Saturday afternoon, AMS; I will be on the barstool by the cash register, the Grand Tetons will be right in front of me.'
“See you then, Bonnie, if anything changes go through Greece or Vancouver to find me on a secure clipper deal. I will email some confirmation details, gotta run, later” and click he was gone.
Turning to the globe on his desk, he spun the earth around to locate former soviet states and tried to guess where Bonnie was sending him this time. He was hoping it was not where the USAF had sent him in 1992 on Operation Sapphire, the same place ONI had sent him during Operation Mineta in 2005. Between all the operations he was getting lonesome for some plain English, but he knew if everything was explained in plain English then even the DOJ would catch on and there would be no need for niche players in the counter-counter Intel game. Operation Northwood and Operation Paperclip ran circles in his mind as he researched some notes taken during his Abel Danger UC career that was now 40 years and 10 months old. As he laid down on the floor to soothe this lower back ache his mind was pulled in two directions; to Dubai and his days in Operation Mae West and to Washington DC where as a Navajo listener he had worked parallel to Sibel E. prior to her gagging by Ashcroft and his pals in dark sunglasses. He was dozing off to thoughts of Mae West when the hardline rang again. It was the recently re-caffeinated Hamish and he was speaking very quickly "David, is it possible you might find your way to the Pacific Northwest before Christmas?" came the unexpected question for Hamish.
“Funny you should ask, Bonnie just offered me a job in a former Soviet state doing some spook flying. I am going to Amsterdam Friday, the 14th to discuss it. Can your project wait ‘til after that 'Operation Grolsch' obligation?”
"I don't think so David. 'Gravedigger' just emailed me that he needs to introduce me to a plant inside RCMP next Tuesday, the 11th. If you can find the time and money, he'd like you and Diehard to be at a one hour meeting. Any place, anytime, but it needs to be on the 11th due to the Mounties’ day off."
“Okay, if we must we must, how about 7 pm at the Foggy Dew?” replied the not-so-retired-after-all Captain Hunter. “Second choice, 7 pm at the Irish Heather'“.
“OK, we have a winner, 7 pm, Tuesday the 11th, Foggy Dew. Why the time, 7 pm? Not that it matters“.
“I don't like getting up early and the band starts at 9, so if the meeting takes one hour, I will have an hour to see what C6, D7 and F4 are on the jukebox at the Foggy Dew before the band cranks it up“.
“Okay, I will get Diehard and Gravedigger the time and date. Can you let Cortege and Amelia know what's cooking?”
“I will let everyone know what I know if they have a need to know. As it pertains to Amelia and Cortege; Yes, I will. I've gotta run and dodge the bull and feed the cows and ducks now, it's fairly cool here in Fargo for December 7th“.
“I thought you sold the cows, or leased them out…” replied the voracious reader Hamish Watson.
“That's not until Chapter 3, and this is just Chapter 1, stop reading ahead. Remember, the FBI and the CIA don't get to read the drafts, they have to wait patiently for my creative bursts, so you be patient also.” After that thorough tongue lashing Hamish acquiesced with a quiet “Sorry maestro, please don't write me out of the script or turn me into a character of questionable preference“.
“No worries there Hamish, see you Tuesday night at the Foggy Dew. I will arrive at 1845 in my al-Faqir Sheikh yur-Buti disguise, see you then“. The click was Hamish's signal that Sheikh yur-Buti was off to feed the cows and ducks.
[ image, Sheih yur-Buti ]
After the conversation Hamish realized he had forgotten to explain that the Mountie was
“Rimshot”, a former rock-drummer who had been deployed to the Pig Farm under the
cover of an eco-industry contractor who could cleanse the terrain of any evidence of
murder for hire. Not knowing who paid his contract Hamish mentally ruled out the Girls Scouts or the Salvation Army. As he trudged off to bed to resume his pursuit of Ms. Perfect his professional discipline reminded him to make a note to call the “usual suspects” who may have a need to know about “Operation Foggy Dew” on 12-11-07 and the upcoming but rather murky Operation Muslim Airbus commencing 2-1-08. On the notepad next to his bed he jotted a reminder to himself: George O., Shannon McKee, and Katie Mae Castro. As he put down his pen and put lead in his pencil he noticed the logo on the note pad from Fargo Exhaust Pros; “No Muff Too Tuff” and he realized he’d missed his true calling as a muffler man. However, someone needed to save America from Rothy’s Octopus and the Nobrain Nobel winner’s global warming so it looked like his retirement would be short-lived. As he nodded off to Sweet Dreams of sweet things his thoughts went from George O’s flying Circus, to Ms. McKee’s special assets and settled on Daisy Mae’s favorite past-time.
As the pen was laid down the pencil was made ready.
But then came the nightmare; a HUBZone sign outside the White House with a trio of Macbethian lizards looking like Cindy McCain, Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton letting some men enter but no man out ...