Obama - Merry Christmas Lance Cpl. Freeman

Lance Cpl. Jason Freeman took his last breath on a herders path in the subzero mountainous region between the "Stans" on Christmas day, while the President scheduled another sunny day of golf in the Hawaiian Islands.
Jason's wife and two young children unknowingly celebrated the opening of Christmas presents back in North Carolina, all the while praying for his safe return.
The President lined up his ball for his first of two rounds on the lush green fairways of the north coast course.
Mrs. Freeman enjoyed the half-spirited enthusiasm of her children playing with the toys she had carefully picked out and lugged back from about ten toy stores earlier in the week. Jason had only one month and he would've been back home with his family. His patrol offered cover-fire as his buddies retrieved his body leaving a trail of our nation's treasure forever staining the ancient pathway. It seemed that over the centuries there were others who had sacrificed their blood and had left their families forever to this now darkening soil.
It was true that many of the coalition deaths were due to the President's refusal to ramp up the requested number of troops in the field. The new order to suspend drone flights also added to the misery for our troops on the ground.
The President knew he had fucked up by going to Hawaii. His political instinct and advisors told him not to go, but Michelle was relentless and downright threatening to get out of the White House, which she now called "The Prison."
He had a bad feeling about all of this. Deep down he knew this Hawaiian vacation was gonna blow up in his face.
Back in D.C. Dave was still reeling over seeing the ghost of George Preston as the 995th day of the Obama Administration waited for the next shoe to drop.

Obama - Scrooged

By Nicholas Contompasis

Like a vampire sucking the last drops of life from his victim, the President arrived for another fundraiser in Manhattan. With the well coordinated lighting of Rockefeller Square's Christmas tree, the President couldn't have pissed-off the locals more, as he closed off most streets that would normally be used for the festivities. It was as though he was purposely sabotaging another Christian holiday, again validation to most, of his Muslim beliefs.
This was the last straw for New Yorkers, who put up with his attempt to try the mastermind of nine eleven just blocks away from the fallen towers, his endorsement of a Mosque to be built the same distance from the hallowed site and his complete disregard for Israel, in-turn American Jew's who predominately populate the lower part of the Island.
As anger mounted towards the President the new town crier Donald Trump rallied the common man and spoke his mind in plain language. Prior to his arrival, he used YouTube to blast the President for his lack of concern for the common man, who wouldn't be able to attend the tree lighting due to his inconsiderate behavior. The video clip went viral and could have been a conservative Republican campaign commercial, it was that good.
It was obvious to many now that the President wasn't drawing the same crowds he did back in '08 and it was starting to take it's toll on his ego.
Jimmy was part of his advance guard on this trip and noticed that there was more action last night with Rush Limbaugh in town than the President's visit tonight. He slyly mumbled his observation to a partner just loud enough so the President could hear. This drew an immediate glare from the Commander in Chief who had enough of Jimmy as one of his family Secret Service guards. Jimmy was black, also, but he wasn't a Marxist and this so-called President gave him the creeps.
While the President danced around the conference room meeting and greeting, Jimmy had himself replaced for the rest of the evening and ducked out for a quick cell call to Dave back at Langley.
Dave finished up with Jimmy's report on the President's movements and quickly got back to a bigger issue, George Preston.
He slipped his cell phone into his shirt pocket and stared out over the now near empty parking lot of a commercial building just outside of the agency's gate. A familiar dark colored Carrera that had seen better days cautiously creeped into view. It stopped about three hundred feet from where he was leaning up against his BMW. The windshield looked as though it had collected five years of dust, which would make that about right, since George hadn't been stateside since 2007. The car sat with headlights on motor running as Dave fought the wind and forty degree temperature. What was George waiting for? Why wasn't he getting out?
George had so many answers to Dave's questions regarding the President and it was driving him nuts to be so close to validating his suspicions of the Commander in Chief. The car's engine suddenly turned off and a man that looked like George emerged from the car as the 969th day of the Obama Presidency couldn't wait to see how much money he collected tonight.

Obama - The Thrill of Assassination

By Nicholas Contompasis

It had been over three and a half months since Iran hijacked Osama bin Laden's body from the briny deep. The Administration did a good job of forcing The Washington Post to print a retraction and apology for the accurate story. The President's ego had been saved!!! So, most of America went on thinking that Seal Team 6 had secured the burial site of the most wanted man in history since Adolph Hitler.
Dave was up to his ears in day to day operation matters.
The President was becoming more of a threat every day since the bin Laden and Gaddafi assassinations. It was as though he had become empowered by his own new found strength to terminate an opponent. For a community organizer from Chicago, the rush was much more intense than successfully smearing a local councilman.
Michelle was at her wits end and counting the days to 2013 when she could have her life back again. She was riding the leader of the free world more these days since she saw the balances in his foreign bank accounts. Soros had been very successful in turning the President's five million dollar nest-egg into nearly three billion euros and she wanted more bling, a lot more bling.
In Dave's thirty years with the agency he had never experienced more operations. Africa and the Middle-east were now the focus of foreign policy. With the toppling of our stable dictators in North Africa the Arab Spring had caused many in the Pentagon to post more observation centers.
The problem with the region was that China had interests in much of its rich natural resources. Even though offshoots of al Qaeda were threatening most Eastern African countries China knew they could be controlled if necessary. It was the West they were at war with, not Islam.
Dave knew that Red China hadn't changed and genocide was still on their list of persuasions.
Since Petraeus signed on as head of the C.I.A. the agency finally felt good again. Penetta was not good and it was like a huge cloud lifting from Langley.
The President was on his road trip in Asia building the Joint Chiefs idea of a firewall around Red China. India, Australia, Japan and Indonesia would be the major players in this new Asian line in the sand. Plans are to beef up these allies with some pretty sophisticated military hardware. China's saber rattling was scaring the hell out of them and they had no plans on learning Mandarin or eating with sticks.
Through this bureaucratic fog, Dave still had to deal with George who was out there somewhere, on his own personal rampage, against what he interpreted as a 2008 coup d'etat of the United States. George was an amazing man and with a mind that could thrill any mystery novelist. That's what made George so good, he could think way outside the box without sounding like a nutcase.
D.C. was cold these days. The conversations were cold, the people were cold and oh yeah, the weather was cold. Winter was setting in and the leaves from most trees had fallen, leaving a multicolored pallet on the floor of most parks and open spaces.
It was now seven thirty as Dave inched his way back to his hundred and fifty year old townhouse in Georgetown. He couldn't stop thinking of how Middle-eastern policy changed so abruptly after the Ayatollah's attempt to bomb a Saudi Ambassador in the middle of D.C. That really woke up the Royal Family. Finally, they stopped dragging their feet on an Iranian attack.
But, now the problem was, as usual, the President. If anybody could fuck up a wet dream it was him.
It frustrated the Joint Chiefs as they continued to do end-runs around any direct order coming from him or his inexperienced staff.
Sometimes Dave wished he could dump his desk job, hit the road with George and start doing things the right way, the old fashioned way. Spook operations had become so political and procedural, all the fun was gone. Dave missed the good old days when a twenty-four inch piano wire took care of business. Even an icepick to the back of the head penetrating the cerebellum was better than waiting for three levels of management to make a decision on a kill.
Now, it was more about touchy-feely policies, don't do this, don't do that. It made most of the old timers who won the cold war head for traffic-crossing guard jobs.
Dave finally made it home and dropped into his big red wing-chair in front of his fireplace that was already roaring. As he became mesmerized by the fire's wavy movement and sounds of cracking and snapping his secured cellphone rang. It was George, as the 958th day of the Obama Presidency had little more than a year to destroy America.

Iranian Sub Takes Osama bin-Laden’s Body  July 24, 2011

The Washington Post broke the terrible news first with the following article.

The Washington Post

WORLD

Where World News and National Security Intersect

Iranian Sub Takes Osama bin-Laden’s Body

By Joel Greenbaum, July 24, 6:22 PM

WASHINGTON D.C. – Today it was reported that unusual submarine activity was reported in and around the deep-sea burial site of Osama bin-Laden. Pentagon officials have been mum, but many have speculated that the body of terrorist Osama bin-Laden has been snatched from the ocean deep.
With not even a month in his cold wet grave bin-Laden seems to be now in the hands of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. Reports are leaking out of the White House that it was one of Iran’s new subs commissioned last year.
It appears that the heavily reinforced body bag of bin-Laden was meant to be found by the Defense Department since it was dropped down to nearly eleven thousand feet with a GPS signaling device. Obviously, it seems that the Iranians have discovered the top-secret frequency used by the device and quickly snatched the body.
Further reports indicate that Mahmoud Ahmadinejad will be making a special announcement to the world from Tehran.
“At this point” said Vice President Biden, “we have nothing to say, sorry.”

Copyright #38629442 – The Washington Post

President Obama finished reading the article off the wire and promptly threw up. It landed everywhere, the desk, chair, rug and his new suit. It was embarrassing, since he was with a group of his trusted aids in the Oval Office. As he quickly headed for the side bathroom where Monica and Bill used to rendezvous this President was there for another reason - cleanup.

As he emerged brushing off chunks of beef and noodles Romanof he yelled “That God-damn Iranian is wrecking my party and I won’t stand for it.” Then he immediately belched up more remaining pieces of beef which caused his torso to buckle in a giant cramp that sent him back to the toilet where he nearly plunged his entire head into the commode.
Vice President Biden couldn’t understand why the President was blowing dinner since Michelle cooked it, a tradition in the Obama family, the dinner, not the throwing up, as the 840th day of Obama Presidency kept flushing.

Minister Louis Abdul-Haleem Farrakhan Muhammad, Sr. – “Who the Hell Do You Think You Are?” – 3:33 P.M. March 21st 2011

Dave knew why the President had dragged his feet in helping the European coalition attack Muammar Abu Minyar al-Gaddafi in Libya, and it wasn’t because he was indecisive. It was because he knew the President had personally seen the millions of petrodollars that came in from Gaddafi to Louis Farrakhan and his Nation of Islam while in Farrakhan’s headquarters in Chicago. A lot of that cash was redirected to a personal slush fund for the Senator, now President, and Farrakhan knew it. Farrakhan had the President by the balls, and one comment from Calypso-Louie and the jig would literally be up.

Dave knew there would be problems with the action against Libya and that it could expose the President's loyalty to a known terrorist. It could be construed as aiding and abetting a terrorist, along with violating the human rights of the Libyan people. He knew this made the President nervous and it showed every time he was on the tube. Any connection to Gaddafi’s money and the President would be an impeachable offense. The President’s past was getting to close too the surface and he couldn’t stop it from bubbling into the media, especially when his old Black-Muslim buddy in Chicago was spouting off over the weekend with threats of “who the hell do you think you are Barack Hussein Obama?”
Hillary Clinton was looking more like Superwomen after the past three weeks of infighting with the President. She knew what she was dealing with. Hillary had already been briefed on Obama’s past, two years ago, and knew he had many Achilles heals that could hamper him from making decisions, and this was one of them. She knew that when these moments would occur it would be very beneficial to her future political ambitions if she capitalized on the event.
But, Dave didn’t have time for this political intrigue; he had bigger fish to fry. From most of the intel he was receiving from around the world, in his thirty plus years at the agency, he had never seen such chaos and disorder. It was as though the entire third world was unraveling. There were always moving parts, but now there were more of them and moving faster than the speed of light. What was even more troubling was Africa and the Middle East. It literally was imploding in front of his very eyes, and he knew George was out there in the middle of it all carrying out his off-the-grid mission of God knows what.
Dave was running all of this through his mind when he set his late afternoon coffee down in the console of his BMW and pulled over after noticing someone was following him in a white rental van with the obvious advertisements on the sides. They had been there for almost 12 miles as he drove deeper into the rolling Virginia countryside from Langley. He was armed with two extra clips, something he had started doing since Obama took office. He didn’t need this shit right now. After exhuming George's dummy last week he felt he was being watched, but by whom? If the company knew that he was aware of George's operations, which the boys upstairs wanted hush-hush, would they go extreme on his ass by taking him out. That was inconceivable to his logical mind, but it wouldn’t be the first time his logical mind was wrong as three lead projectiles pierced his rear window with the sounds of dull thuds, penetrating his passenger-side floor.
Time to go, as he took off with the quickness the best the Bavarian Motor Works had to offer as the 779th day of the Obama Presidency was out of town again.

Obama – George Preston - Rest in Peace - 4:30 A.M. Sunday March 13th 2011

The act of hypocrisy by liberal congressmen draping themselves in our Constitution and Bill of Rights, the documents they consistently ignore, have done everything they could to derail Congressman Peter King’s hearing on a radical Muslim movement in America this week.
With that hearing as a backdrop, one of President Obama’s aids came back from the Headquarters for the Joint Chiefs with instructions for him to fire P. J. Crowley for insinuating that the military was mishandling Bradley Manning, who was being detained for releasing hundreds of thousands of military and State Department top secret messages. Not only was this directive provocative but it was fueled with an observation made by the aid of a new framed map of Egypt behind Admiral Mullen’s desk. Thus, reminding the President whose court he was playing on.
Meanwhile, on the sprawling lawns of Arlington National Cemetery at 2:30 A.M. Dave and Jimmy risked their reputations and high-level jobs to exhume the body of George Preston, the now deceased C.I.A. agent who seemed to still have answers for these two grave robbers.
They both felt awkward doing what would normally be done by subcontractors, but Dave got such push-back from his superiors to obtain a DNA verification of George’s remains, that he felt he’d better do it himself. The reaction of his superiors was very troubling to Dave since it was likened to touching the electrified third rail of a commuter track. Why would they deny such a mundane request, he thought, which led to a hundred more questions that Dave had no answers to.
Dave knew that the answers to his questions now literally lay beneath his feet in the hallowed grounds of this national cemetery that was being patrolled every three hours, so there was no time to waste.
Two shovels and two very in-shape men made a quick dig of it as they hit the casket after two hours. The two men looked at each other as they pried open the new military issued casket. Jimmy with his razor quickly slit what looked like a plastic body-bag and like a McDonald’s Happy Meal revealed its prize.
What lay within that bag answered everything that Dave could question. There was no need for doing DNA testing on a dummy. He now knew that George was still alive, operational and that the Joint Chiefs were operating an off-the-grid program to derail the global radical Muslim movement. Dave felt good that George, his old buddy, was still alive and still tearing up Eastern Africa. He knew that if anyone could connect the Administration to this movement it would be George as the 771st day of the Obama Presidency was rapidly digging its own grave.

C.I.A. - Who Went Rogue in East Africa? - 8:00 P.M. Thursday March 3rd 2011

For the past two months Dave had painstakingly gone over reports coming in from East Africa. His surveillance operatives in the region had picked up on anti-al Qaeda actions and had been forwarding the details back to Dave at Langley. These were actions not authorized by the C.I.A. and Dave had spent most of the past ten weeks trying to figure out who it was. As the weeks rolled by it was clear to him that the style and timing of these well-planned countermeasures against al Qaeda training camps and actual disruptions of terrorist attempts were not being performed by an amateur.

Whoever it was, they were thorough and quick about it. Like lightning, they hit with explosive speed, then disappeared; vanished to strike again with the same voracity. Dave recognized U.S. training in some of the ops, with a spattering of old time Russian K.G.B. tricks that made him believe it was a well seasoned operative. The part of these operations that smelled C.I.A. was right out the training manual with some creative twists for flair. It was the flair that really made Dave think. It was almost as though whoever was orchestrating these attacks was sending Dave a message of who he was. A signature or fingerprint, a sort of bragging about what he had done. All of this was actually driving Dave nuts because it all seemed so familiar yet new.

All of Dave’s ex-associates and current sub-contractors were accounted for, and most of them didn’t have anywhere near the style of these successful operations. It was rare for al Qaeda to be hurt so badly in this region. In the past few months al Qaeda must have lost over a thousand men and tons of munitions. These clandestine operatives had definitely left a mark on their psyche because most of the chatter being received from the area was more about when this force was going to attack again, rather than when their operations would move forward. It appeared that whoever it was that was crippling these thugs of the desert had brought the whole program to a standstill.

Dave was praying it was somebody he had done business with before and could eventually coordinate future authorized attacks with. But getting this self-proclaimed Robin Hood’s attention was the hard part. If al Qaeda, who was on the ground and in-theater couldn’t find him, how could Dave? That was now Dave’s big dilemma and he pondered it every day.

Jimmy and Dave had their regular Thursday night pizza and beer in Georgetown at Pizzeria Paradiso, where Dave caught up on the inside scoop on the President’s movements. The pressure was really on now with the new Tea Party led Congress putting the screws to the President at every turn. Between signing stopgap funding bills every two weeks to keep the government running and campaigning for his second term, he had no time for running the country and foreign affairs which both were showing neglect. The Middle East was falling apart with the so-called Democracy movement spreading to all parts of the globe. Even China was now embroiled in this turmoil with “The Jasmine Revolution” that had the ChiCom’s arresting thousands for demonstrating and spreading messages of discontent on the Internet.

Most of the President’s staff had changed and moved back to Chicago to run his 2012 campaign leaving him with an inexperienced skeleton staff that screwed up just about everything that came through the door. The new Press Secretary was a disgrace as a spokesman for the office and cast a transparent veil over the inexperienced President. Jimmy actually felt sorry for the guy, once in a while, as he heard the First Lady screaming at him for some bullshit thing that Rush Limbaugh said about her. “Why can’t you have him killed,” she ranted on at the President as he responded in a weak mousy voice, “Who do you think I am J. Edgar Hoover?”

Dave laughed at that while taking his last bite of pepperoni pizza when Jimmy brought up someone who Dave thought was dead and buried in Arlington. Jimmy mentioned how slick the idea was of planting GPS microchips into Muslim prayer rugs. He asked, ‘Whose idea was that anyway,” as George Preston’s face flashed into his mind, someone he had almost forgotten about. It was as though Jimmy had broke open a dam and thousands of memories of operations they shared over the decades together rushed into his mind like a red dye enveloping clear water. As these thoughts rendered Dave speechless, he began to meld the past with the present. Jimmy’s voice became more like a distant mumble rather than someone sitting across the table. For what seemed like an eternity Jimmy kept asking, “What’s wrong, what’s wrong?” as he slowly put together the puzzle of who was operational in East Africa. Dave thought it wasn't possible that George Preston was still alive as the 761st day of the Obama Presidency called Rush Limbaugh while the First Lady listened in.