“This is a new list of people. I hope the Pentagon is using this stuff. We’ve sent them over forty tapes so far.” LT Clarkson secured the tapes and written documents.
The four captives were asleep from the drugs. Dakin listened to the recordings and nodded an okay to pull the I.V.s. After a Band-Aid® to the neck the SEALs redressed the terrorists with a US desert camo blouse emblazoned with American flag shoulder patches.
“Take them back to near the place we grabbed them.” Dakin’s orders for the mission were the same for all prisoners after interrogation.
“We’ve taken down a total of almost five-hundred names and locations in the US this year, sir.” Clarkson sealed the tapes and papers in a waterproof container.
“I know what you’re thinking. We should be taking the US infiltrators out. The Pentagon must be doing something with the Intel we send back.” In the back of Dakin’s mind, however, were doubts. He’d been to the Pentagon, worked there, and knew of the delays from haggling about the kind of plan to implement. Bureaucracy spun its wheels while Islamic extremist numbers in the US grew daily.
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