Date: Mon, 21 Aug 2006 10:38:52 EDT
From: Jetjt@aol.com
Subject: Super Jeff Chapter 31

The following story is a work of gay fiction. If the subject matter is
offensive to you or you are too young, please exit now. This story is the
property of the author and may not be reproduced without permission. John
Tucker JETjt@aol.com


					SUPER JEFF

				     Chapter Thirty-one

TYLER'S POV

The four large two-rotor choppers and a single rotor helicopter gunship
skimmed the hills and valleys as they streaked through the night toward
Damascus. I'm sure they must have installed terrain-following radar in the
crafts to allow the high speeds that we were traveling in the dark. I
understood too that the low altitude was flown to avoid early detection by
Syrian radar. Aware that the borders were closely monitored, the flight to
the city was by a circuitous route. I'm certain the Israelis knew all the
Syrian radar stations as well, which would further explain the long flight
path. I'm sure our return trip would be more direct.

After what seemed like forever it was announced that we were 15 minutes to
our target.  The assault team stood and checked each others' gear, running
through a checklist they seemed to know by heart. I know they'd done the
same thing before we left the base, but they went through the routine
again. Perhaps it was a psychological maneuver by the officers to briefly
take the soldiers' minds off the task ahead. Whatever the reason, when the
announcement was made that we were 10 minutes out, they were
finished. Through the windshields in front of the pilots we could see the
lights of the city closing in and feel the chopper begin to slow down.

I could see the other helicopters flying beside us. Two were at a slightly
higher altitude so I surmised that they were the ones that would assault
the roof. The lone gunship led the way as we skimmed over the outskirts of
the city. As we got nearer the gunship gained altitude and slowed allowing
the assault choppers to pass underneath. Our aircraft was assigned to the
hospital's main entry lobby while the second of our lower group took the
emergency entrance. The two upper crafts had teams that would rappel down
ropes to the hospital roof since the typical helipad on buildings was
unable to support the dead weight of the large double rotor
helicopters. After unloading their teams, they would join our helicopters
on the ground. The gunship would remain aloft providing cover from any
external assault. The rescue was planned to take 7 minutes.

As our craft began to settle to the ground our assault team stood in the
aisle between the two bench-like seats that ran fore and aft along the
sides of the machine. The machine gun crew of two had manned their
positions at the side door when we had earlier crossed the border of
Syria. Before the wheels touched the ground the large ramp at the rear
began to lower. It was horizontal by the time the aircraft landed and
continued to lower as the team charged the opening. The assault team split
into two groups. The smaller of the groups, 6 men, fanned out to protect
the exterior perimeter of the building and the helicopters while the larger
group of 10 charged the lobby entry to secure the exits from the
building. I took my position on the building side of the rear ramp. My
semi-automatic Sniper's rifle was loaded and ready.
 At first there was no noise that could be heard above the whine of the
helicopter jet engines and the whirring of the rotors, as the two other
transports joined our crafts already on the ground, then the rapid popping
of assault rifles could be heard above the din of the aircraft. I glanced
at my watch which I'd earlier set for a stopwatch function and then
activated when the wheels touched down. 5 minutes had elapsed. Knowing that
it would take about a minute to reload the craft for departure I watched
the doorway expecting the assault team to begin emerging. The sound of
gunfire increased. Most seemed to be coming from the upper floors, but some
came from the emergency area where the other two helicopters had
landed. Suddenly from above I heard the roar of the gunship's powerful
machine gun, which was designed to automatically aim where the weapons
officer was looking. I could hear automated fire coming from around us. I
heard also a small explosion from the other side of the building.

I had been furnished with a hand-held walkie-talkie communicator, but had
been instructed not to use it unless it was an emergency. Nevertheless, I
could follow the communications between the assault teams. From what I
could surmise, there was light resistance at Point Zero, which was the
location of the rooms holding the Richards. Point one was a different
matter. It was the unknown location of Osama Bin Laden which had to be
found by using the homing beacons from the device that Dr. Richards had
implanted during surgery. Six minutes had now passed and no sign of the
assault teams. Suddenly, gunfire ripped through our chopper followed by the
machine gun of the other helicopter firing. It had landed with its main gun
away from the hospital to protect us from attack from the city.

Through the communication devices the assault team leaders were notified
that the `zero rescue' team was exiting the upper floors and the team going
after Bin Laden had been unable to complete their assault. Over the radio I
heard Captain Yankovic order "execute plan tango 5". I knew that plan tango
5 was an order to throw explosive satchel charges as close as possible to
Bin Laden's defenders, then to beat a hasty retreat to the helicopters.

Suddenly our gunner was hit and collapsed over his gun. His ammo feeder
assistant was also wounded but was able to lay the gunner out on the floor
away from the fire.  Applying quickly bandages to his own wounds before
attending to the gunner, he administered first aid to stop the flow of
blood coming from two bullet holes in the gunner's body. Peering around the
corner of the rear ramp opening, I saw an Al Qaida sniper firing from a
second floor window. I got him in my sights and fired off three quick
rounds. The firing stopped, but not before he'd placed two more shots into
the pilots' cabin, injuring the pilot. Now shots began raining down on us
from the building roof. The gunship was not with us as it was fighting off
a ground attack on the other side of the building. I couldn't fire upwards
for fear of hitting our aircraft's rotors. I moved quickly to the machine
gun position which was between the rotors and searched with my night scope
along the roofline. I saw muzzle flashes from three locations on the
roof. I picked out the first one, found a target and fired off a round. I
moved to the second and waited for the sniper to expose himself. I could
see with my peripheral vision assault teams pouring out of the building
heading back for the ships. In the center of the teams, I saw two gurneys
being pushed rapidly along the paved walk, then lifted over the curbs and
carried by four men toward the helicopters. The second sniper must have
seen them too as he raised his arm to throw a grenade. It was what I was
waiting for. As he drew his hand back he died with my bullet through is
head. Seconds later the blast of the armed grenade flashed over the
building's parapet, knocking small chunks of the building down on us. That
blast was quickly followed by a much larger one from inside the
building. Glass from the third floor windows rained down on the yard. I
assumed that the larger explosion was from the Bin Laden team's satchel
charges.

 I sucked closely into the aircraft's open side to minimize my silhouette
in the doorway.  Looking for the other sniper I suddenly saw what we most
feared. The third sniper had shouldered a rocket launcher and it was aimed
downward toward our craft. Knowing there was no time for accuracy, I popped
off a shot a bare second before I saw the flame blast from the missile. The
rocket streaked down toward us but missed, hitting 50 feet beyond our
craft. The inside assault teams as well as the gurneys were now within the
aircraft. The six perimeter defense men were now racing toward the open
stern. Suddenly another launcher appeared over the top of the building
wall. This time I was ready and before he could pull the launch trigger he
too was dead. The weapon fell over the side and bounced once before
flipping toward the entry doorway, still armed and still intact. The entry
door to the building suddenly burst open. Three men rushed out. Two spit
spraying gunfire from their AK 47s toward the choppers. The third rushed
for the rocket launcher. I fired at the two assault rifle wielding
attackers, dropping them in their tracks. Moving to the third man I got him
in my sights as he was picking up the long tube of the launcher. My weapon
clicked. It was empty. Discarding the magazine on my rifle, I slipped a
second one that I'd kept in reserve in my left hand into the slot. Pulling
back on the cocking slide, a shell rammed into the chamber. I raised the
rifle to my shoulder and popped off a quick shot at the man who was taking
final aim at our machine. I must have shot high as a huge explosion from
the weapon erupted, out of which danced the propellant end of the rocket
cart-wheeling through the night sky. Having been distracted, I hadn't
noticed the increased whine of the engines nor the swishing of the rotor
blades as their speed increased. Suddenly the blades cut into the air and
the aircraft lifted. As we cleared the top of the building wall I saw the
stairway door to the roof flung open. I poured 6 shots into the opening and
the door closed.

Our aircraft turned away from the building, tilting forward as it gained
altitude. I looked out the side door from which I'd been firing and saw the
other three transports and the gunship spread out in a loose
formation. Gunfire was still being exchanged between the ground and the
rising craft. I joined in the `giving end" from the rising choppers then
moved away from the doorway as the targets disappeared behind us. Turning
around I saw that a medic was now attending the serious wounds of our
machine gunner and the flesh wound of his assistant. I then gave my
attention to the two gurneys which were anchored between the rows of
seats. I moved to the wheeled stretchers.

"Are they alive?" I asked a second soldier who was bent over Dr. Richards.

"Yes, we found them unconscious in their room. We grabbed two gurneys to
put them on and strapped them down. There is no sign of injury so I have no
idea why they're not conscious."

"No wounds at all?" I asked.

"No. They don't appear to be malnourished either. It makes what I found to
be very strange."

"What was it?"

"They were hoarding food. I found a part of a meal wrapped in plastic in
the doctor's pocket."

"Maybe Dr. Richards suspected poison. It would certainly explain him
keeping a sample of their dinner," I hypothesized.

The medic seemed surprised at my supposition.

"That would explain a lot," he agreed.

"Keep the food sample," I said. "We need to get them to the nearest Israeli
hospital that has a good lab."

"I'll talk to the pilot and he can request permission from Captain
Yankovic," the medic said.

Sliding around the gurney he headed for the cockpit.  After a few moments
of heated discussion and some radio conversations, the pilot whose own
injuries were leaking through a field dressing, ordered the co-pilot who
was flying the craft to change course.  I could see a lot of animated
gestures and pointing at the dashboard instruments in the cockpit including
the medic who suddenly appeared very excited.  .  The pilot quickly ordered
him out of the pilots' area.

"Where are we now?" I asked when the medic returned to the gurney.

"About 20 kilometers from our border," he answered. "We should be back in
Israeli airspace in 5 minutes. It will be none too quick for me," he added
excitedly. "The pilot's radar shows Syrian jets on our tail!"

"How long will it be for them to catch us?" I asked.

 "They'll be within missile range in 5 minutes," he answered. "The good
news is that we have 5 Israeli F-15 jets two minutes away. If the Syrians
fire on us they're dead meat."

We heard coughing and movement from the second gurney so we quickly moved
there.

Dr. Richard's wife was squirming around struggling against the straps that
held her secure to the gurney. Her eyes suddenly opened and she had a
bewildered look on her face.

"Who are you? Where am I?" she asked.

"Second question first," I replied with a smile intended to comfort
her. "You're on an Israeli helicopter headed from Syria to the nearest
hospital in Israel. As for me, my name is Tyler Turner. Your son and
daughter hired my security firm to discover your location and to rescue
you. Fortunately, the Israelis agreed to do the rescuing part. They're damn
good at it."

"Apparently," she replied. "How is Jeffrey?"

I assumed she was asking about her husband, not her son.

"He's unconscious and has not come around yet. We don't know the reason for
your condition but we suspect poison."

"I think Jeff suspected that too," she answered. "He made me stick my
fingers down my throat and expel my dinner. He only ate a little, I think
for the guards' benefit, plus I think he was testing it out to see if he
got a reaction."

"It must have been pretty powerful if he only ate a little," I commented.

"Yes, he secretly scooped some of his dinner into a plastic bag and stuck
it in his pocket, just in case."

"We found it. It's what gave us the idea about it being poison."

"I guess he never got the chance to empty his stomach like I did," she
theorized. "I was so dizzy I passed out in the bathroom."

"We found you in your bed," the medic reported. "He must have carried
you. He was in his bed too, but it looked like he barely made it."

"What a dear," Mrs. Richards said gratefully. "I'll have to give him a
reward for taking such good care of me."

"I'm sure he'll be delighted to receive it from such an attractive lady," I
commented.

She blushed when she realized I understood what she was suggesting.

About that time we heard the Israeli jets streak by. I glanced out the
window and saw them take a wide turn behind us to join us as escorts.

"Another problem out of the way," I reported to Mrs. Richards and the
medic.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It seems we had one or more Syrian Air Force jets closing in on
us. Fortunately," I said nodding at the soldiers, "these guys brought their
own combat jets. The Syrians won't dare bother us now."

Mrs. Richards smiled then frowned in obvious discomfort.

"Would you loosen these damned straps?" She said looking down at her
bindings. "They're cutting off all my circulation."

The medic leaned over and removed the tension on the wide straps, but
didn't remove them.

"We'll be landing soon," he explained. "We'll leave them on until we get to
the hospital."

"Thank you young man, that's so much better," she said taking a deep
breath. "I don't mind the straps so much but they were making it difficult
to breathe."

"You'd better check Dr. Richards' straps too," I suggested to the
medic. "He may need all the help he can get."

The medic nodded and went back to the gurney holding the doctor and
loosened the wide bindings wrapped over the patient.

"I'd guess that Jeffrey never had time to empty his stomach," Mrs. Richards
repeated. "We'd better get to a hospital in a hurry."

After we crossed the border, two of the transport choppers containing
unwounded and soldiers with minor wounds, accompanied by the gunship, split
off from the formation, making their own way back to the base near Tel
Aviv. The four jets that were our escorts split into two groups of two and
circled above each group of choppers as their lowest maneuverable speed was
well above the 175 MPH speed of our helicopters. It wasn't long before the
lights of a large city appeared ahead of the two troopships in our group.

"Where are we landing?" I asked the medic.

"Haifa, on the coast," he answered. "It's much closer than Tel Aviv."

The troopships began to descend from the higher altitude they'd risen to
after crossing the border. In moments the ships landed and the rear ramps
lowered. Outside, medical crews waited. The onboard soldiers who were only
slightly injured or totally uninjured quickly exited the rotor craft even
before the ramp was totally down. The ones who only needed minor help
headed for the emergency room under their own steam. I assisted the medic
I'd been working with to release the wheel locks and to roll the gurney
carrying Dr. Richards into the hands of the hospital staff waiting at the
bottom of the ramp.

"Go with Dr. Richards," I instructed the medic so that he could explain the
poisoning of the doctor.

"I will," he agreed. "I have the food sample."

Waving a hospital orderly aboard, we quickly repeated the process with the
gurney containing Mrs. Richards.

"The pilot and two more injured are still aboard," I yelled at the balance
of the waiting medical team. The team maneuvering a rolling
stretcher/gurney rushed up the ramp disappearing into the aircraft as the
orderly and I pushed the gurney containing Mrs. Richards toward the
Emergency Room doors. Once inside a triage team descended on us.

Deciding that Mrs. Richards' condition was not critical demanding immediate
attention, they rolled her to a waiting area. I was told to be seated in a
visitor's waiting room, but I shook my head no. I guess that seeing the
sniper rifle in my hand convinced the nurse not to argue.

"How are Jeffy and Amanda?" Mrs. Richards asked as we waited together.

"They're fine and are in London anxious for a report from me,
Mrs. Richards. I'll call them as soon as I know Dr. Richard's condition."

"Thank you, Mr. Turner," Mrs. Richards said with gratitude, "and please
call me Mel."

"You're most welcome. I'm Tyler," I replied back. "Your kids are great
young people, Mel."

"We think so," she said smiling.

After another 10 minutes of conversation, an orderly came to take Mel for
treatment.

"I'll be here waiting for you," I promised. "I'll come and see you as soon
as they'll let me."

"Find out about Jeffrey please," she asked.

"You can count on it," I committed.

It took about 20 minutes of nagging the hospital staff, but eventually a
doctor appeared.

"Mr. Turner?" the doctor inquired.

"Yes, I'm Tyler Turner. Are you Dr. Richards' physician?"

"Yes, I'm leading the team treating him," he replied. "I'm
Dr. Josef. What's your relationship with the patient?"

"My security firm was hired to locate him and to participate in his
rescue." I answered. "My clients, Dr. and Mrs. Richards' son and daughter,
are waiting in London for word of their rescue and condition. I need to
call Jeff and Amanda as soon as their condition is known."

"Dr. Richards' food was laced with cyanide," he said convinced of my
authenticity. "Fortunately he ingested very little of it, just enough to
make him lose consciousness. If he'd have eaten even as much as the sample
in the plastic bag, he'd have died. He'll be fine. As for Mrs. Richards,
she was the one really lucky. According to her, she had eaten nearly all of
her meal, but Dr. Richards made her expel the contents of her stomach
immediately. If she hadn't she'd have never made it until the rescue team
arrived, much less all the way here. They are both conscious now and are
being transferred to a room for observation. If they are recovered this
afternoon, they can be discharged."

"When can they have visitors?" I asked.

Probably in about a half-hour," he said. "They'll be put in the same
room. The admitting clerk can give you the number in a short while."

"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Dr. Josef," I said with a genuine
smile. "You're a life-saver."

"That's what I get paid for," he replied with a wink. "Now I must go. I
still have other patients to attend to. Tell the Richards' children that
their parents will be fine."

"I'll be most happy to Sir. Goodbye."

The physician turned and quickly disappeared through a doorway. I couldn't
help wonder if he might have been on `our team.' It wasn't important I
concluded and picked up my phone from it's holder on my uniform.

JEFF'S POV

In the morning we were up early, showering and doing our morning hygiene
before grabbing a cup of coffee and a Danish. Afterward, we checked out of
our rooms in Scotland and drove the small rental car to the airport in time
to see the company's Learjet land. We unloaded our luggage, disposed of the
car, then hauled our bags, including our golf equipment to the plane. From
seemingly out of nowhere, two security guys showed up and placed their
luggage beside ours. I had almost forgotten that they were with us. I could
only surmise that Kayden had kept them continually informed of our plans,
under orders from his father. They had certainly been unobtrusive during
our trip. While the crew was stowing our gear into the baggage compartment
we all climbed aboard the small jet. In mere minutes we were airborne and
on our way back to London.

The trip was short and after landing we located the Jaguar and headed for
the hotel in downtown London.  My phone began ringing and I quickly
snatched it from its holder.

"Jeff Richards," I announced into the small phone's microphone.

"Jeffy, it's Amanda," said the voice on the other end of the call. "We're
back in London at the hotel. When will you be arriving?"

"Hang on," I said.

"Kay," I asked loudly "How long to the hotel?"

"About 20 more minutes, chap," he replied.

"20 minutes," I repeated into the phone.

"We'll meet you in the coffee shop off of the lobby," She suggested. "Just
check in and send your things up to your room. Have you heard from Tyler?"

"Not yet," I reported. "I'm on pins and needles."

"We are too. See you soon."

"K. Bye Mandy."

"Later Jeff," she responded before the phone went dead.

When we got to the hotel, we had Kayden drop us off, then he and Terry
parked in the hotel parking garage while Chris and I went in to dispose of
the luggage and check in. By the time we were finished we saw Kayden
entering the bar. We hurried and caught up with them just as they got to
Amanda and Rick's table.  We'd hardly had time to get seated and order our
drinks when my phone rang.

"Hi this is Jeff," I answered.

"Jeff this is Tyler."

"Man, I'm glad you called. We've been anxiously waiting for your news. I'll
put you on the speaker."

I pressed the speaker button and set my phone down on the table.

"Hi guys. Are you all in London?" He asked.

"Yes, we're sitting here at the bar in the hotel. Chris, and I, Mandy and
Rick as well as Kayden and Terry are all here. Mandy and Rick got here a
while ago and the rest of us just rolled in. We haven't even been to our
rooms yet. What's the news on Mom and Dad?"

"They've been rescued," Tyler reported. "They were poisoned by Bin Laden's
people, I'm sure with his knowledge, but are okay now. Your dad was
suspicious so neither one had eaten enough for it to be fatal, though they
were both unconscious when we found them."

"ALRIGHT!!" we all shouted slapping hands and knocking knuckles.

"Where are you? Still in Israel?" Mandy asked when the tumult had died
down. .

"Yes, we're in Haifa which is on the coast in northern Israel. It was the
closest city with an adequate hospital for your parents and the badly
wounded."

"Were there any casualties?" Rick asked.

"Not on our side that I know about," Tyler answered. "There are several
with serious wounds though. The machine gunner on the helicopter I was on
was hurt pretty bad and the pilot and assistant gunner received minor
wounds."

"You went with them?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes, Gary Franklin, my Chief from Atlanta and I both went on the aircraft
as sharp shooters. I think I took out about a half-dozen of the Al Qaida,
myself. Gary was on another chopper that landed on the other side of the
hospital. I haven't talked to him yet since he was on one of the
helicopters that went on to Tel Aviv."

"When are Mom and Dad going to be released?" Amanda queried.

"Either this afternoon or in the morning," Tyler hedged. "I flew over to
Tel Aviv on a commercial airliner from Athens to avoid attention. I'll call
and have my plane fly here to coincide with your parents' release from the
hospital. We'll fly back to Tel Aviv to pick up my clothes and
passport. I'm sure the Israelis will want to debrief us all too, especially
your parents. I figure we'll fly back to London day-after-tomorrow."

"That's great," I said." If there's a big delay we'll come to Israel. We
can't wait to see Mom and Dad."

"It's best that you stay there," Tyler suggested. "I'll call you if there
is a big delay though."

"That's fair," I said. "Have you seen Mom and Dad yet?"

"No, they're putting them just now in a room for observation," Tyler
explained. "I'll see them very soon. In the meantime, I need to make some
other calls."

"When you see them, ask them to call us," Amanda requested. "We'll keep the
satellite phones you gave us on our person at all times."

"I'll do that," Tyler promised. "Now I really have to go. Expect a call
from your folks soon. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," we all echoed before the phone went dead.

"Here's a toast to Mom and Dad," I said raising my glass.

"And for Tyler Turner too," Amanda added as her glass joined the others,
clinking together at the end of raised arms.

We all took a drink and drained our glasses.

"Now I'd suggest some lunch," Rick said looking at his watch. "If we stick
together for a while, maybe you can both talk to your parents while we're
all in the same place.

"Capital suggestion," I said scooting out of the booth where we were
sitting. "I've gotta pee first."

"I'll take care of the cheque," Kayden offered. "Jeff you can buy lunch."

"My pleasure, my friend, my pleasure," I said as I headed off to relieve my
aching bladder.

		* * *

TYLER'S POV

I made the phone calls necessary to get our jet on standby for its flight
to Haifa, called Reggie in London, called Ron and Dan in Las Vegas and
talked to Col. Krackenhauer in Tel Aviv. The plans were set so that we
could leave for Tel Aviv as soon as the doctor released Mel and
Dr. Jeff. No sooner had I finished than an orderly appeared, announcing
that the patients could now receive visitors, gave me their room number and
pointed out the elevator location. I thanked him, then headed off for my
visit.

Entering their room I saw both patients sitting up in bed chatting.

"Jeffrey," Mel said. "I'd like you to meet Tyler Turner. He's largely
responsible for our rescue."

"It's a pleasure," the doctor said as I approached his bed and I took the
hand he offered. "Please call me Jeff or if you'd rather Dr. Jeff."

"I'm pleased to see you awake," I said with a smile. "You gave us a scare."

"I gave myself a scare," he admitted. "From what I've been told it was a
close call. I sincerely thank you for all you've done."

"You're most welcome Sir. There are a lot of people to thank besides me
though," I replied. "Your son and daughter have been great through this
whole thing. In fact it was Jeff that discovered the ruse that you'd not
been killed in England."

"Everyone thought we were dead?" he asked.

"Yes, the Al Qaida agents murdered a couple about your age and placed their
bodies in your car, setting it on fire. Your credit card was found damaged
but still traceable in the car leading the police to assume that the bodies
were yours. The jewelry, watch and other personal effects were sent to
Jeffrey who discovered that they weren't yours. He had hired my firm by
that time and he reported his discovery. We immediately notified Scotland
Yard and the results of the forensic tests confirmed his suspicion. It was
a diversion to spirit you out of England before the truth was
discovered. Unfortunately it worked. With a lot of cooperation between
Scotland Yard, Interpol and our own Homeland Security, we were able to
trace the flight of the jet that took you to Syria. We later got a lead on
the kidnappers when Bin Laden went to Marseilles for his testing. He
slipped away before he could be apprehended but we were able to get a copy
of the test results so we knew the nature of his condition."

"Your attorney has been on top of the whole situation too," I
continued. "Of course we can't forget the Israelis who pulled off the
rescue. We were prepared to attempt the rescue privately, but it would have
taken another week to get ready. Fortunately they had the will, experience
and training to pull it off very quickly."

"Yes," Dr. Jeff said. "I'm sure that if you hadn't arrived when you did you
would have found us dead. Even if their attempt at poisoning failed, I'm
sure they would have finished the job in a more `professional' but messy
manner. What was our government doing in the meantime?"

"Quite honestly Jeff, we were afraid to let them in on our plans. We were
concerned that they might `smart bomb' the hospital if they knew that Bin
Laden was inside. We were afraid of their priorities. I'm sure we'll catch
hell for it when we return, but they can't say much because the Israelis
are allies and have a lot of support in the U.S. I know they want Bin Laden
with a passion and we couldn't take the risk."

"I suspect that was a wise decision," Dr. Jeff concurred. "What happened to
Bin Laden?"

"The Israelis had a team that went after him. He was heavily defended and
they were unsuccessful in breaking thorough to him. There was a possibility
he'd already escaped too, so it wasn't worth risking success in getting you
out just to make sure he was captured or dead. The team tossed a couple of
powerful satchel charges into the midst of his defenders. If he was inside
the room nearby, it's possible that he was killed too. I'm only telling you
what I could make out over the radio. We'll find out more when we go to Tel
Aviv this afternoon."

"Tel Aviv?" Mel asked. "Why are we going there?"

"The rescue was executed from a military base near Tel Aviv. I need to go
back and get my personal things including my passport. We also owe the
Israelis the chance to debrief us. I'm sure they'll have questions for you
about Bin Laden."

"That seems fair," Dr. Jeff agreed. "I can see I'm going to have to make a
sizable contribution to the Jewish National Fund when we get home too."

"What is that?" Mel asked.

"It's a fund to make improvements in Israel. None of the money goes to the
military. It's sometimes jokingly referred to as the Jewish Tree Fund,
since a good bit of money has been spent on trees and other natural
improvements. It's somewhat a misnomer though; they also spend money on
wells, irrigation projects and other things besides just plants."

"It's certain that we owe them," Mel agreed. "I don't know a better way to
help."

"I'm sure that they'll accept and use all the help they can get, even from
Gentiles." I said with a grin. "The Turner Companies have found a way to
economically desalinate sea water. One of the first plants we'll build
abroad will be in Israel."

"I'm sure we can't afford a whole plant," Dr. Jeff commented, "but we could
sure make a sizeable contribution."

"That I'm sure they'll appreciate," I said in confirmation.

"Mel said that Jeff and Amanda are in London?" Dr. Jeff asked.

"Yes, they're there with Chris and Rick."

"Oh yes! How is Chris doing?"

"He's great, and according to Jeff his golf game is really improving. It
would be better except for the three weeks they took out of the summer to
be camp counselors."

"Our Jeff was a camp counselor?" Mel asked in shock.

"Yes, from what he told us, Chris talked him into it. They both enjoyed the
experience."

"I knew that Chris was a good boy, but now I'm really impressed," Dr. Jeff
commented.

"Yes, I think you'll find both of them changed quite a bit, but from what
Jeff has told me, you'll find Amanda changed more."

"I hope so," Mel said. "She's always been our difficult child."

"You'll find that she's turned into a delightful young woman," I said. "I
think Rick Forbes is the reason."

"They're a couple?" Dr. Jeff asked.

"Yes, though I probably shouldn't be the one to say so. I'm sure you'll
like him."

"If he's made Amanda into a human being, then I'm sure we'll love him," Mel
commented.

"Did the doctor say when you could be released?" I asked. "I need to get
our jet over here from Athens."

"He said it would be early this afternoon," Dr. Jeff replied.

"Then I'd better get them in the air," I responded. "I'd like to check on
the condition of the wounded soldiers too. I'll be back in a while," I
promised.

"Thank you Mr. Turner," Dr. Jeff said.

"It's Tyler, Jeff. I have a suspicion that we're going to be good
friends. Oh, by the way, Jeff and Amanda would like you to call them. You
can use my satellite phone," I said as I called up the speed dial to Jeff's
phone and pressed send.  When I handed the phone to Dr. Richards I said
simply, "See you later."

"Later Tyler," Dr. Jeff said with a smile as he pressed the small phone up
against his ear.

		*	*	*	*	*