The Macro Event. Andrew Adams

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      Dayyan Imaad Shalah was an Iraq immigrant. Before the Iraqi Freedom campaign, his father was one of Saddam’s high-ranking officials. This position of importance landed him on the “Most wanted” deck of cards as the ten of spades. This deck of playing cards, an evil creation of the Coalition forces was issued to the combat troops during the invasion and used to identify the most valuable human targets. Nevertheless, his father was a traitor. When it became obvious to his father Iraq would lose this war quickly, he defected, and using a mole, he contacted the American Central Intelligence Agency.

      For self-preservation, his father did not consider the fate of the other loyal Saddam officials. This included Dayyan’s favorite uncle Ammar. His father had traveled extensively for the government, and his uncle had done more to raise him that his father. Dayyan’s father would beat him savagely for minor infractions. Ammar, the opposite of his father, was a kind man, never once laying a hand on Dayyan.

      So when the American Army with its CIA advisers came for his Uncle Ammar and four other high-ranking officials who were in hiding, it was obvious that Dayyan’s father had turned them in. Several of those faithful to Saddam died when they fought back during the brief battle with the US Special Forces. Dayyan was only seven years old when he ran out into the yard and stayed with Ammar while he was bleeding out from the multiple gunshot wounds. Dayyan was kneeling over his dying uncle when an American soldier came up and kicked him out of the way. He then began to torture Amman during his last few moments of life, asking the dying man for locations of other officials. Dayyan would never forget that day, and his hatred for the Americans and his traitor father would sizzle for years.

      Shortly after the death of his uncle, the CIA removed his parents from Iraq. Officially, Dayyan and his father were listed as killed. Both received a new identity and life when they arrived in the United States. The two were given new lives in Los Angeles. Their handlers provided his father employment at an auto repair shop owned by another Iraqi. After finishing high school and while attending the University of California, Dayyan received notice that his aunt, who had remained in Iraq, was ill. He asked his father for permission to go to Bagdad to see her before she passed away, and his father begrudgingly gave in.

      He remained in Iraq, nursing his aunt through her lengthy but terminal illness. The CIA handlers had no suspicions, and his ailing aunt was a reasonable excuse for him to remain there for an extended time. With the growing threat of Al-Qaeda and ISIS, the CIA had bigger fish to fry, and they paid no attention to him. Ignoring him was a serious mistake. Once in Iraq, a Syrian immediately realized Dayyan’s potential shortly after introductions. After careful vetting, Dayyan was introduced to an unknown man. Someone described as “very powerful.” For the next five months, Dayyan met with various people, who provided training in skills including weapons, electronics, radios, warfare tactics, and other skills of warfare. The need for some of his training made little sense, but he remained loyal and worked hard to learn. His new friends continued to provide him help in many ways after returning to the United States. Introductions and training continued for an unknown and undefined mission.

      Funds provided by his handlers could be explained as money his aunt had left him. He used that money to open the small appliance repair store. He faithfully followed instructions others had drilled into him in Iraq. Money arrived sometimes in simple mailed envelopes or sometimes by a “customer” who would pay a large bill in cash. With the cash, he bought various items from a list that he had forcibly made to memorize. He bought an old seventies vintage Chevrolet Suburban and an even older Dodge crew cab pickup truck. His father passed away a few months after he returned, so he did not have to worry about the “traitor” asking questions. He took the trucks to the auto repair shop his father had worked at and, using cash, had them restore the trucks to near new condition.

      He bought a few guns but not enough to raise suspicion. He started to develop a cell of wolf terrorists. He would not be a lone wolf as the American media was fond of naming terrorists. Lone wolves were known to perform stupid acts, usually resulting in their arrest or death. Dayyan was extremely careful. Vetting would occur on any new acquaintance or unknown people. Dayyan simply provided basic information on them. If there were any doubts or worries, he would ignore them and push them out of his life. Dayyan’s cell consisted of five direct “soldiers” besides himself and his friend Naseem. The other five men vetted others and built their own network of loyal followers of Islam. Each added other loyal soldiers. For added safety each group kept, their members secret for the other groups to add another layer of protection against discovery.

      Dayyan now sent each of his soldiers a coded text message directing them to meet at his shop as soon as possible.

      Dayyan did not have to wait long before his best friend, Naseem, showed up. Soon after Naseem’s arrival, two others from his cell showed up. About a half hour later, a FedEx driver walked in and handed a small package to Dayyan and held out the electronic tablet, which Dayyan signed. After the driver left, Dayyan took the package behind the counter and examined it. The box was about eighteen inches square and ten inches deep and heavy for its size. He opened the outer cardboard box and found a tactical plastic case with a sealed envelope taped to the top lid. The top of the envelope had a large bold message that read, “Do not open until contact arrives to verify.” There was also a set of numbers and letters under the message “3-7-H-U-8-3-S-T.”

      About thirty minutes later, a man walked into the shop, Dayyan asked him, “Can I help you?”

      The man answered, “I have an envelope for you.”

      Dayyan looked at a set of numbers on the front of the envelope, “4-9-K-Y-3-9-7-B.” Then using a notepad, he compared the numbers to the ones in the FedEx package and he confirmed the same code.

      When Dayyan finished confirming the code, the stranger asked, “Okay, my brother?”

      “Yes, it appears to be,” Dayyan replied.

      The two men then shook hands and exchanged names. The new man’s name was Adham. He told Dayyan he was from Syria but did not freely exchange any more information. He appeared about twenty-five years old. He was clean-shaven like Dayyan, and his English was excellent. Dayyan wondered if Adham had undergone the same training as himself. Part of Dayyan’s training was always to remain clean-shaven and dress, act, and speak as close to American English as possible. He had even taken an advanced English language course focusing on accent and true American ways of speaking. Dayyan assumed that perhaps Adham had done the same.

      Adham took out his cell phone and called someone. The call was answered quickly, and he simply said, “God is great.” And he hung up.

      About two minutes later, three other men of Mideastern-looking descent entered the shop. Within twenty minutes, the balance of Dayyan’s own cell arrived. This brought the count of men to ten. Dayyan locked the front door and put out a Closed sign, and the group all retreated into the back of the repair shop and started preparing for their mission.

      Chapter 1

      2245, Day Zero, Las Vegas, Nevada

      Lee Garrett woke suddenly from a sound sleep. An eerie quiet had triggered a nerve. Yes quiet. A loud noise had not stirred him, but instead the lack of noise. Lee awoke thinking, Something is odd. The hotel room air conditioner was no longer drumming out its constant low rattle-infused sound. The symphony of music and noise from the popular Las Vegas downtown area was gone. He looked at the digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed. The clock face was dark.

      Lee was on the nineteenth floor of a hotel room at the Double J hotel on Fremont Street in downtown Las Vegas. Having gone out to dinner, he returned to his room at around 10:15. He СКАЧАТЬ