Ocean City HQ

A cold breeze swept onto Virginia Beach and ruffled the plastic covering the windows of the top floor of the rental house. The darkness was ink black against a cloudy sky with an occasional star appearing as the clouds blew by. The patchy weather did not interfere with the CIA satellite picture. The Langley surveillance center sent the report and picture to Spada’s computer.

“Sir, you are receiving live infra-red sky video at the enemy cell in Virginia Beach. Record it for repeat plays and if you lose it we can give it to you again.”

“Signal received. Images are clear. Four warm bodies are moving in the upper floors and concentrated in a right beachfront room.” Spada waited for confirmation of his interpretation.

“Affirmative, sir. And what of those four small cars. Isn’t it unusual for each terrorist to have a vehicle?”

“Yes. You’re correct. We have more questions than answers. Our teams’ mission is to get such intel. I want continuous observation and all eyes open at our mission’s zero-hour.”

“We will have both visual and our commentary for your SEAL Teams, sir.”

“Good. I want this one sent to CDR Dakin. Do you have satellite signals for other jihad cell units for our SEALs?”

“Affirmative.”

“Good. We go live action in 36-hours.”