Free The Recruit: A Taskforce Story by Brad Taylor Page B

these so-called Lost Boys hasn’t even taken a proper name. He still goes by Jacob.”
    “But you tested him, yes?”
    Omar nodded. Adnan said, “The name is why we want them. They will all revert back to their true names. They are gems buried in the sand. Four Americans with no ties to America. No families, no Facebook, no Twitter. They are unknown. Unlike the others who brag to their friends back home, nobody knows they exist. No authorities are fervently tracking their moves. True?”
    “Yes. We instructed them on methods of recruitment, but they have shown no interest.”
    “Good. Keep it that way. Their mission will be the greatest recruitment drive we have ever seen.”
    The media specialist fidgeted, getting Adnan’s attention. He said, “Emir, they are on this video. The one we’re going to post for the world to see.”
    “Don’t. Broadcast the stills of the verdict, but keep the executioners out.”
    Omar said, “We lose the impact with our own people. They need to see. They need to fear.”
    “Then let our men see it, but obscure the faces, and do not put it on social media. The Americans must be protected, and those
kafirs
in the United States have ways of determining the tiniest things.”
    Omar nodded. “It will be done. What about me?”
    Adnan looked at him with a question, and he said, “When do you wish me to start, and what will the target be?”
    “Targets. Plural. Every attack attempted by that windbag Zawahiri and his diseased al Qaida has resulted in failure because the
kafirs
managed to hear about it before execution. We have to assume the same will happen here, so we will plan two attacks. One for them to chase, and one for you to execute.”
    Omar went through the ramifications in his mind. Having fought in Grozny against a barbaric Russian army, he recognized the wisdom. He said, “Just preparation for the false flag attack?”
    “No, no. A real attack. One that you will plan from start to finish. You pick the target and the method. The only parameter is that it must be outside of the caliphate. Outside the borders here. If it succeeds, so much the better, but its primary mission is to protect your American cell. Obviously, don’t tell the other team about that. Let them think they are the chosen ones.”
    Omar absorbed the words, glancing away and nodding, thinking through the possibilities. He said, “And the real target?”
    Adnan smiled and said, “The real one will destroy the heart of the
kafirs
.”

3
    Waiting on the president to finish, eyes glued to a television, Colonel Hale sat with the rest of the Oversight Council, watching him getting raked over the coals in the White House James S. Brady Press Briefing Room. Kurt heard a little exasperation escape President Warren, a sign of the pressure he was under. Kurt felt for the president, but was glad it wasn’t him on the stage. The conversation would have been much less civil.
    “Kathy, I don’t know how to make it any more plain. None of the men in the picture are either American or working for United States intelligence. They are not in any capacity agents of the United States. Clearly, those barbarians will kill anyone just to prove a point. And that point is fear.”
    The hands in the pressroom rose again and President Warren said, “Thank you,” then walked off, hearing a chorus of shouted questions. Sitting in the Old Executive Office Building next door to the White House, Kurt knew it would be a good ten minutes before he arrived for their meeting.
    He looked around the room. Only half of the thirteen members of the council were present, the other half most likely getting castigated right now in the Oval Office over the scourge of the Islamic State.
    Kurt knew how President Warren felt: impotent.
    For nearly a decade he’d been hunting terrorists with a unique counterterrorist organization that had unparalleled success; yet despite its efforts, a greater threat had appeared. Not only appeared but had thrived