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.