Half a world away from Washington D.C. in Uganda, George Preston, an aging CIA field agent sat at an outdoor bar and restaurant. He was spending a few days in the capital city of Kampala after being in the desert gathering information on Al-Qaida. For the last 6 months his job had been to coordinate Al-Qaida’s movement and messaging in the region. While doing that, he came across some interesting patterns. Bizarre actually, would be a better word to describe the patterns.
It was late, nearly 10:00 P.M. and he was scheduled to meet his next in command to discuss what he found. George was cautiously excited knowing that once he relayed the information, God knew how it would be interpreted or handled. Knowing of the recent change in political winds in D.C. he was skeptical about just about everything these days. George had been around the block a few times and knew priorities change when new administrations take over and this one by far was no different.
George was a smart guy and operated pretty much on his own without central command direction. George delivered the goods and that’s all the big guys wanted. He always knew that his work and information was valuable, so he always backed up everything he found on Langley’s mainframe computers under the file name of Alice in Wonderland. George reveled in the rough and tumble field work that guys half his age couldn’t handle and he liked to show them up whenever he could.
George developed a system on his own of following the bad guys by GPS. He knew the one thing that made all Muslims the same was that they prayed several times a day and they prided themselves on the prayer rug they owned. That prayer rug went with them everywhere and George knew it. By cleverly using micro battery-operated signaling devices, detectable by our satellites and inserted them into these rugs, he could track them on his computer. He left them where he knew Al-Qaida would be and always left nice rugs so it would be hard for them to resist lifting them.
The patterns that George was interested in was the tracking of these rugs and were and when they would move.
George ordered a beer while he waited. The night was warm and humid but a breeze kept it tolerable. It was late but many people were milling around the square which was right across the street. A delivery truck pulled up just south of his table. He saw it park and then continued watching a beautiful long-legged African women leaning against a wall near a closed store across the street.
Something was wrong George thought. It didn’t dawn on him right away, but the delivery man didn’t exit his truck. When George realized what was happening, he glanced back at the truck as the impact of the explosion tore at everything within a half block radius, including an aging CIA field agent.
Back in Washington the President was brushing up on his upcoming weekly schedule when he was told of a double bombing in Uganda. He was also informed that an American was killed, but details were still sketchy. He didn’t seem concerned as the 527th day of the Obama Presidency indifferently moved on.