Bamboo Battleground

by Don Bendell

  Then they turned their attention to Laos and Vietnam where Bobby and Bo learned of the several joint Vietnamese Montagnard and Laotian Hmong operations to spy on the blossoming al Qaeda training centers and activities there. They were also briefed that the al Qaeda had slowly been sinking their hooks into the drug trade from that part of the drug-rich Iron Triangle region.

  The group finally broke for lunch and Bobby and Bo returned to their office to start catching up on all the mail and emails they had piling up while they were on leave. It was enough to make anybody cry.

  5

  WEST BANK

  The Honorable James Weatherford walked into the quiet restaurant on the corner at 75 Avenue des Champs-Elysées in Paris. The famous and recently renovated thoroughfare with new granite sidewalks and even more shade trees, also named la plus belle avenue du monde, “the most beautiful avenue in the world” in French, stretches from the Concorde square to the Arc de Triomphe.

  Ladurée Tea Room, a high-class restaurant founded in 1862, also had a world-famous bakery and was well known for its pastries. The famous “macarons” (biscuits) were a real specialty of this establishment. It was equally famous for its raw and cooked vegetable salads.

  When the senator walked in, he was immediately taken to a large table in the corner, where he was greeted by a broadly smiling Nguyen Van Tran, one of the key bureaucrats with the Communist Party of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, the SRV, or as they called themselves Cong Hoa Chu Nghia Viet Nam. In fact, his title was deputy minister of agriculture and rural development for the government and, a teenaged member of both the Red-Scarf Teenagers’ Organization and the Ho Chi Minh Revolutionary Youth League, he grew to become one of the thirteen permanent members of the very powerful Political Bureau. Muhammad Yahyaa, the powerful al Qaeda coordinator, had traveled from his posh beach villa at Koh Samui, Thailand, and was also there to greet the U.S. senator.

  The three shook hands and smiled, while a camera started clicking pictures one after another, shooting through the windowpane. Mounted on the shoulder of the faux artist with easel and large canvas under a tree along the far side of the Champs-Elysées, the long-range surveillance telephoto camera was comprised of a high-quality Zenit 122S SLR camera with Super-3S telephoto lens, MC Helios-44m-6 interchangeable lens, and accessories. A well-known sniper camera, it was originally developed for Soviet KGB surveillance operatives. It’s a unique configuration of a 35mm camera with a powerful 300mm telephoto lens and an ingenious integrated stabilization system similar to the Hollywood Steadicam system. Instead of needing a tripod, the camera and long telephoto lens were mounted on a special metal alloy rifle-type stock, which had a built-in trigger-activated shutter release and focusing mechanism. The camera was aimed as a rifle or shotgun would be, and the trigger was pulled to take the photograph. Focusing is achieved by using a control knob located on the stock. The camera’s split-image focusing allowed for excellent image sharpness under varying conditions, and its multicoated achromatic lens provided for optimum light transmission and exceptional photographic imagery. Shutter speeds on the long-range camera ranged from 1/30 second to 1/500 second.

  The modified digital film camera, besides taking shots to be developed, also took instant digital shots that were transferred to the laptop sitting next to the painter’s easel. From there the photos were transferred to a repeater a mile away, which transmitted the images to a U.S. Milstar satellite miles above Paris. Milstar satellites like that one make up the most advanced military communications satellite systems to date. From a stationary orbit 22,000 miles above Earth, they provide secure, jam-resistant worldwide communications, linking command authorities with ships, submarines, aircraft, ground stations, and in this case a spy for the Central Intelligence Agency.

  Each giant Milstar is really more like a smart switchboard in the sky, directing encrypted voice, data, teletype, and fax message traffic anywhere on the Earth and each one can link up with other Milstars to forward messages.

  Each one of the Milstar satellites is about as big as a semitrailer rig.

  An intelligence analyst received the shots on her computer in Langley, Virginia, and they were immediately burst to several other computers by her at various locations, all within taxi-riding distance of the U.S. Capitol building.

  Copies of several of the photographs along with a top secret brief were immediately hand carried into the briefing room and shown to Bobby, Bo, and the others after a quick explanation by a military intelligence chief warrant officer 5.

  Bobby and Bo heard all about Weatherford’s underhanded political tactics for the past several decades and his presidential aspirations. Of particular concern to their briefers and to General Perry were two men who belonged to the Defense Intelligence Agency. These men were frequently assigned to Senator Weatherford’s intelligence committee and FBI information, both electrical and humintel, had indicated they had been promised lucrative positions with Weatherford after their retirement.

  One man was named Lt. Col. Julius Brock, and the second was named M. Sgt. Darellus Parker. Both men were black and each had less than a year to go to retirement. Listening to Weatherford’s promises of riches and his supposed caring about the plight of minorities in America, along with an excessive amount of greed, the two soldiers would be shocked to know that with his white cohorts in the Senate he referred to them as his “twin army niggers.”

  They both started out two years earlier just trying to please the senator, following orders and being loyal, but slowly they allowed themselves to become corrupted. The senator effectively used them as his spies into the military, and for the most part they were always at his disposal.

  It was made clear in the briefing that this was not a witch hunt to attack a future presidential opponent, but a determined effort to fully investigate someone who really seemed to have no concept of true patriotism or loyalty, beyond self. Senator Weatherford was ruthless, crooked, shrewd, wealthy, and for years had collected indebtedness from our other congressmen on both sides of the aisle. He also was a major campaign contributor for many of the other politicians in congress, including Republicans in his opposing party that had something, maybe a future vote, he wanted.

  He was already quite wealthy when he entered congress due to inheritance. After a divorce from his first wife and the death of his second, he married a filthy rich heiress who had been the only child of one of the major bubble gum makers in the world.

  The first wife was simply dumped for the second who was the daughter of a renowned brain surgeon. After the old doctor got to know James Weatherford, his respected son-in-law, he offered his daughter a choice: Dump the good senator and receive a million-dollar gift from Daddy, or be taken out of his will.

  This came about because the surgeon and his sweet but very meek wife held a large party to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day at their sprawling estate in upper New York state. Senator Weatherford, a junior senator at the time, started pumping hands and charming folks before the food was even served. He constantly went over to his wife and gave her a loving hug or nuzzled her cheek, and folks noticed. The word at the event was that they were a wonderful loving couple just made for each other, but he was after all a politician.

  He, however, had his eyes on a blonde voluptuous woman who was introduced as the head of radiology at not the surgeon’s hospital, but at the hospital across town that seemed to be a bit of a competitor.

  What James Weatherford did not know, after an hour of covert flirting back and forth, when he finally invited the young lady to look at his father-in-law’s stables, was her little secret. In the stable, one thing led to another, and they soon were tearing each other’s clothes off and made mad, passionate love in the tack room on a pile of horse blankets.

  Her little secret was the fact that she and the surgeon had been having an affair for the past eight months. Two weeks after that, when she caught the surgeon having another affair with one of his nurses, she blurted out about her whirlwind tryst with h
is son-in-law in the stable.

  Now, he was stuck. He could not tell his daughter what he knew about her wonderful husband, but he absolutely did not want her married to the scoundrel. He could not believe that, of all women the man would cheat with, he chose the doctor’s girlfriend.

  It really surprised her to have her father pop in at their house in Arlington out of the blue, saying he was there for a medical conference. While she ran to the deli to get them some fresh-cut meat for sandwiches, he planted his card.

  He had carefully copied his son-in-law’s printing and on the back of one of Weatherford’s business cards, he had spent a full afternoon writing the radiologist’s name and phone number on the card, along with a note to himself saying, “Great blowjobs.” Sneaking upstairs to the master bedroom, he carefully made the card look accidentally dropped into the dirty clothes hamper. The surgeon knew his daughter was very finicky about washing clothes, insisting on doing all laundry herself.

  She found it and made the call after two days of thought. The radiologist readily admitted to her sexual escapade with Weatherford, but did not spill the beans about Daddy, as she was trying to get back into a newer, better affair with him. She did apologize profusely and explained that James had pursued her all that night and was appealing to her because he seemed so loving and tender with his wife.

  That night, she tossed down the gauntlet with the errant senator, and he cried, he begged, he apologized literally on his knees, and he started plotting. She seriously considered her dad’s offer.

  Henry Alcala was a bodyguard hired by the senator at that time, referred to him by his younger brother, the would-be felon of the family. He had befriended Henry, a large, overmuscled bouncer who only the most radical drunks messed with, when he met him at his favorite nightspot. While at a White House event, the senator’s poor wife unfortunately died when her Mercedes crashed into a bridge abutment. The autopsy could not detect where her skull had been caved in earlier from the bodyguard who sent her car into the bridge.

  The $10,000 he was paid by the senator went up his nose in months, and he died a year later of a drug overdose.

  After a reasonable time of fake mourning, Senator Weatherford started dating Hollywood actresses, singers, society dames, and various celebrities, looking for the one who had enough millions and enough charisma to help him campaign and get elected president. She would also have to be passable as a First Lady. Finally, he met the bubble-gum heiress and commenced his best seduction techniques, honed to a fine art after years at the best country, polo, and yacht clubs on the East Coast.

  They had now been married for over a decade. It was stormy but he had learned all the buttons to intimidate her and totally controlled her now.

  Now, the good Senator James Weatherford was seated in a French restaurant in Paris meeting with a communist leader and an al Qaeda leader making sinister plans.

  “Chao Ong Tran,” Weatherford said, priding himself on learning a Vietnamese phrase.

  “No, Jim, Anh Tran,” the communist leader said.

  “What?”

  Nguyen Van Tran went on, “Anh Tran. Anh means ‘friend’ maybe, like ‘my friend,’ and Ong Tran means ‘mister. ’ It is not same as friend.”

  “Oh,” Weatherford said, and then looked to Muhammad, saying “Asalakalakum.”

  Muhammad said, “Lakum Salam, Senator.”

  The three shook hands and sat down.

  After ordering drinks and food, they started discussing business.

  Muhammad said, “Today your food and drink is my treat, and I have two beautiful women for you who will join us before we leave.”

  “Thank you, Muhammad,” the senator said. “I love the food here, and I always love beautiful women.”

  Tran laughed and said, “Yes, me, too. Thank you, Muhammad.”

  Muhammad said, “My associates want to give you, Senator, a campaign contribution, and we want to give you a gift, too, Deputy Minister.”

  Weatherford said, “Thank you, my friend. How much do you want to donate?”

  Tran added, “Yes, thank you very much. What kind of gift?”

  Muhammad smiled, saying, “We give each of you ten million U.S. dollars. It is for each of you personally as a gift of appreciation.”

  James Weatherford had been dealing with Muhammad for two years now and with Tran for much longer. He was in way too deep and had crossed way too many lines long before. He now no longer made a pretense of trying to be honest.

  Weatherford was shocked at the amount and said, “Thank you very much, my friend, but I have been around long enough to know that you do not get such gifts for nothing. You must want something major from me and from my friend Tran.”

  Sipping some wine, Muhammad, justifying that by thinking he must drink wine while with his enemies who were doing so, said, “This is true, my friend. We want you, and we want Tran to make a lot of money. We want you to achieve your goal of completely open trade and commerce with the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. We want Hanoi to make lots of money. In order to do this, we must make a bold statement to help sway world opinion to listen to our cries.”

  Tran said, “I do not understand this you say.”

  “I am not clear, either,” James added.

  Muhammad grinned and looked around nervously. “When I attended Harvard University in your country, we had a professor who used to always say, ‘You must break some eggs to make an omelet.’ ”

  “I have never heard such a saying.” Tran replied. “What does it mean?”

  “An omelet is a dish made with eggs, where they are mixed up,” James Weatherford responded. “It is an old saying in my country.”

  Muhammad went on, “As you know, my friends, if we can influence the news media in America to sympathize with our position, they can influence the people to understand we do not want to kill Americans, but to be respected in the world community.”

  “What about September 11, 2001, the World Trade Center?” Weatherford asked.

  Muhammad said, “I know that was a sad time for your country, but nobody knew that the buildings would come down. When the director, when Usama bin Laden and Sheik al-Zawahiri were planning the attacks, it was just to get America’s attention. We had no idea, well, I mean they had no idea those two buildings would come down.”

  Weatherford said, “Yes, I don’t think anybody did. But what do you plan now?”

  “Nothing really, but we do want you to use your influence next month to keep the coast guard and navy from patrolling the Port of Los Angeles heavily,” Muhammad replied.

  Weatherford said, “I hope you do not think I will be a party to another 9/11 attack on my own country!”

  Muhammad smiled. “Relax, my friend. We just want to make a statement. Yes, maybe a few fishermen or what do you call boat loaders, ah yes, longshoremen, might be lost, but as the saying goes, ‘You have to break a few eggs to make an omelet.’ You will have more money for your campaign to become president and when you are elected, then we can make a lasting peace treaty with your country. You are the only one who is not a fool.”

  “Hmmm,” Weatherford said. “That is true.”

  Muhammad had once again pushed the right button: James Weatherford’s greedy ambition to become president.

  Tran asked, “How do I become a part of this?”

  “You are a big part, Tran,” Muhammad answered. “You are helping provide us with safety for our new training camps for our trainees in your part of the world, like our men in Indonesia, Thailand, and the Philippines. We will take over much of the drug trade in the Golden Triangle, and we will share our proceeds with Hanoi, and we will make more donations to you, Senator.”

  James Weatherford’s face reddened.

  He looked around and whispered, “Wait, you are talking about making money selling drugs. I am a U.S. senator.”

  Muhammad started laughing.

  He said, “Mr. Senator, we control most of the world’s opium trade in the Golden Crescent region—Pakistan
, Afghanistan, and Iran. We produce about eighty-five percent of the opium trade in the world, and we share with many in government. Almost all of the other fifteen percent comes from the Golden Triangle—Thailand, Laos, and Burma. Do you know how much money you will make, Senator?”

  “Millions?”

  “Billions!” Muhammad said, “And billions for the SRV, too, Tran. We are talking about the al Qaeda controlling close to one hundred percent of the world’s opium production, and you both are our silent partners. When you are president of the U.S.A. you will go down in history, James. You will have wonderful treaties with Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, Iraq, Lebanon, Egypt, Syria, Saudi Arabia, Somalia, Dubai, Yemen, the SRV, Laos, the Philippines, Indonesia, Thailand, and by then we will have Cambodia, and maybe more. In the meantime, my friend, you will get much richer, and that is okay because you are helping your country.”

  Muhammad was a very clever and convincing liar. The al Qaeda leadership believed they were divined by the almighty to spread Islam throughout the world. Unlike the seventh-century mind-set they had been emulating, the al Qaeda had a goal to further Dar el Islam, the Nation of Islam with little or no concern for borders, but there was a big difference between the seventh century and now. In the seventh century, conquering Muslim sheiks would allow those conquered to convert to Islam, unless they were Jews or Christians. In that regard, they became automatic third-class citizens. Others could maintain their own religions but would be considered second-class citizens. The al Qaeda, however, would allow no such quarter to modern-day Christians or Jews. The fatwas declared they were to be exterminated, period.

  Contrary to naïve liberal thinking, influenced heavily by the U.S. news media, the al Qaeda was not jealous of America or Americans. Their feeling is and was that Jews and Christians, all of them, are to be killed all over the world, period. They are also supposed to spread Islam and not stop until Dar el Islam is realized worldwide.