Free Perspectives, An Intriguing Tale of an American Born Terrorist by Jeffrey Shapiro

with you.”
    “Sweetie, you can’t. You have to go to school. Besides, then you’ll miss Mommy and Gretchen.
    “I won’t miss mommy.”
    Jonathan was stunned at her bluntness.
    “Sweetie, your mommy loves you very much. You will be able to spend more time with her when I’m gone.
    “She’s different.”
    Jonathan ran his hand through her red hair, “She just misses Matthew like you and me.”
    She sat up and threw her arms around him. “I’m afraid daddy, I don’t want you to go. You promised that you would stay close.”
    “Your mommy will be close and will keep you safe.”
    “Please daddy, can I come?”
    “No, there wouldn’t be anyone to watch you during the day and Mommy and Gretchen would miss you.”
    “How about if we all move?” asked Carly.
    “I don’t know, maybe. Mommy works close to here so we would have to work something out.”
    “She won’t miss me if I go with you.”
    “Will you give it a try? And I promise if it doesn’t work, I’ll bring you and Mommy with me.”
    She turned her head face down into the pillow not liking his answer.
    “I’m going to tickle you,” he said as he grabbed at her ribs.
    “Stop it,” she screamed.
    “Do you want to go to McDonalds?”
    “No.”
    Jonathan was shocked, Carly always wanted McDonalds. He sat there for a minute, waiting for her to speak.
    “Daddy, could you stay in here and play with Bruiser and me?”
    “Sure sweetheart.”
    *****
    As he suspected, his new position was a technical job, far from the public eye and deep within the bowels of corporate headquarters. Jonathan’s body was mostly healed from the explosion, but he would always have as a reminder the scars of surgery on his left arm and the 2 pins and 1 surgical screw in his elbow. The cast had been off for 6 weeks and he had worked hard in therapy to rebuild the strength in his left arm, but he still had a lot of work to do, and he knew that one of his first priorities was to find a new gym and continue his rehabilitation.
    The first day back to work was very awkward, because he was never comfortable with praise and everyone treated him as a hero. When PD introduced him to his new group, they all applauded, making him feel terribly uncomfortable. He was assigned to a group of 16 highly technical programmers who managed the databases containing all information on the “field training” programs. He was amazed at how far the agency had come in 3 dimensional virtual reality. He was impressed by one program in particular that used computer simulations written in CBL1, a program specifically developed and written for the CIA. He learned that the CIA technical staff was the co-developer of this programming language, together with MIT, working under a grant from the US Government. The program allowed the creation of 3 dimensional holograms that simulated people, vehicles, buildings, even entire cities. The holograms projected a high density laser from a moving pedestal less than a centimeter square and capable of moving across the ground with a natural fluidity on a cushion of a self-generated electromagnetic force. He watched in awe as a group of agents tried to stop simulated terrorists who were attempting to hijack a Delta 767 on a routine Gatwick to JFK flight. The beauty of the programming was that the programmers could create scenarios which included bombs, nerve gas, automatic weapons, multiple hijackers, the pilot being part of the conspiracy….etc. The holograms were so life like that he could not distinguish illusion from reality. As he watched he saw that the terrorists were both intelligent and brutal. It was funny, because he saw that the training had turned into a competition between the programmers and agents. In the competition he was watching, the terrorists were winning most of the time. He asked if he could be the agent in a simulation and the programmers laughed, but grew painfully quiet when he single handedly killed the hi-jackers without losing a