Monday, August 23, 2010

Obama - Inching Towards Judgment Day - 10:00 A.M. Monday August 23rd 2010

Dave spent the balance of Saturday and all of Sunday snooping around the President’s vacation home. Jimmy tagged along wondering why Dave’s inspection was so thorough, but he was helpful and assisted Dave while he peeked into every nook and cranny of the beach house. It was obvious to Dave that the Muslim prayer rug was somewhere in the house but where? Dave made sure that he visited the home when the first family was away visiting friends, playing golf or attending functions on the island. It was now Monday morning and he wanted to make one more pass just to make sure. He had to get a visual on this rug before he could proceed. This whole thing could end up being a big fat bust if no rug was found. He knew it would put a crimp in this new method of tracking terrorists if we were just running around the world tracking ghosts instead of the bad guys. His laptop computer, which he kept in his rental car, said the rug was in or around the house. The GPS technology used for this experimental operation when George set it up in the desert of East Africa was a bit antiquated. The closest Dave could get a bead on the rug was within a radius of twenty-five feet, anyway that was good enough for George’s operation. Twenty-five feet was close enough for any bombing raid, but for Dave, that was a lot of territory to cover when you’re talking about a five thousand square foot house with eyes and cameras everywhere.
It was now 10:30 A.M. and the President was out playing golf again with a few friends. Dave was about to give up and rested on the sofa just opposite the fireplace where a beautiful picture of Cape Cod hung. Jimmy was outside in the driveway checking the SUV’s to make sure they had enough gas and that their defense mechanisms worked properly. There was a full time detail of twelve guards around the house and thirty men and woman stationed around the twenty-eight acres that made up the estate. You couldn’t go anywhere without bumping into a short cropped haircut wearing a buttoned down Ralph Lauren oxford shirt and khaki pants. It now seemed that the national logo had changed from the eagle to the polo player. You could say, these guys had class, Dave thought as he looked around the living room with his body stationary on the sofa. He moved his head from right to left and then back again. He looked randomly not focusing but just trying to feel the building he was in. Where the fuck is that damn rug, he wondered, where? Six foot six Jimmy Jackson, walked into the living room with the aged hardwood flooring crackling under his feet. His two hundred and twenty pound frame stood in front of Dave like the robot from the movie The Day the Earth Stood Still. “Are you looking for this Dave?” Jimmy uttered in his typical monotone voice. As he unraveled the GPS loaded prayer rug that George Preston, his now-dead friend, had planted in a dirty little village in a far off hostile land as the 570th day of the Obama Presidency inched its way closer towards judgment day.

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