By Patrick Robinson
A left-leaning charm courtroom pass judgement on liberates 4 of the main harmful al-Qaeda terrorists from Guantanamo Bay and the CIA box officials song them again to Pakistan’s northwest frontier mountain diversity. yet catastrophe overtakes them and the 4 males vanish, to rejoin the darkish and mysterious forces expert via Osama bin weighted down excessive within the Hindu Kush. those are males with hatred of their hearts, with hatred for the us and nice Britain, and they're sworn to hit again on the united states, which imprisoned such a lot of in their excessive command.A fateful conversation from the mountains of the Afghan facet of the border is intercepted by way of Britain’s mystery surveillance station at the Mediterranean island of Cyprus. Al-Qaeda is sort of definitely making plans a brand new hit at the US mainland. The CIA is at its wits finish, all their fears coming domestic to roost.They understand there's just one guy who can cease them—retired military SEAL Lt. Commander Mack Bedford—and he's referred to as in to help on essentially the most hugely labeled missions ever introduced from CIA headquarters. Bedford names his expense, and once again, the the Aristocracy of the guy is spun right into a breathtakingly speedy motion novel.
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Extra resources for Intercept
Sample text
And, somehow, they understood there were forces out there beyond the razor wire that were striving for their freedom, and that in the end they would return to the front line of their holy struggle against the Infidel. Each piece of news came to them slowly and sketchily, by osmosis more than anything else. But it sustained them, and it gave them the oxygen of hope, and it kept alive the flickering flames of defiance and anger. Throughout their years of captivity, the only form of justice available was that of the military tribunal—a kind of commission for the trial and punishment of any individual detained at Guantanamo.
Ben presented a cheerful, sunny-side-up appearance and seemed to be happy to cooperate with both the guards and the interrogators, laughing and shaking his head at the apparent absurd suggestion that he was, himself, a Hamas commander in the cauldron of the West Bank. Ben’s good nature and friendliness toward his captors was, after more than five years, a feature of Camp Five. He had a huge smile, a deep spontaneous laugh, and an almost comic expression of incredulousness whenever it was suggested that he, Ben, had actually blown up the Park Hotel.
No one at Guantanamo knew for certain the two men had been al-Qaeda comrades in arms, though there were several interrogators who suspected they probably knew each other. There was just something about the way they talked quietly on the football field, as if they did not require quite so many words as normal people. Whenever they met, there was a substantial amount of head-nodding, and a paucity of lip movement. Quite often the interrogators had asked if the two men were acquainted, but neither of them gave an inch.