A TERRORIST PROFILED (standard:other, 393 words)
Author: kendall thomas	Added: Nov 03 2002	Views/Reads: 3270/1	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
SATIRE

~THE TERRORIST PROFILED~ 

By Twisted Wabbit 

In a small conference room in the building of the FBI headquarters in
Washington, D.C., a dark suited man by the name of Dobson, from the BSU 
(Behavioral Science Unit), was speaking to a small, group of men.  All 
with the highest security clearance. 

“We are not sure,” Dobson was saying, “who this terrorist will be, or
when, exactly he will strike, but,  he will undoubtedly be a highly 
trained and equipped individual.” 

“Why is that?” Deputy Director, Blakemore, asked. 

“Because, gentlemen,” Dobson said, with a stern look, “according to our
sources, who have been totally reliable in the past, this individual 
will be carrying on his person the means of bringing this nation to its 
knees.  I'm speaking of tens of millions of American lives that will be 
lost.” 

“It must be some kind of virus if it can be carried by one person,”
Presidental Advisor, Philip Marston said. 

Dobson shrugged, tilting his head.  “That's all the information we have
at the moment.” 

“Surely there must be something we can do?”  General Richard Myers,
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff huffed, waving a large Cuban 
cigar.  “Increase airport security!  Search every damn Arab coming into 
the country!  Declare martial law! Go house to house if need be, by 
God!”  He hammered the mahogany table with the side of his fist for 
emphasis. 

The Deputy Director rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then said to Dobson,
“I want every available man on this.  I don't care how you do it; I 
want results.  We have to find this terrorist before he strikes.  It's 
impossible for one person to carry a nuclear device capable of 
destroying the United States; so . . . it must be biological.  Get on 
it immediately.” 

~ 

Seventy-five year old great grandmother, Mary McGuire, tolerated the
hands of the crude, airport security guard as he frisked her.  She 
didn't like it, but that's what America had come to:  the terrorists 
were winning after all.  The American people were losing all their 
freedoms. 

Hobbling with her cane, she stopped at an airport canteen and bought a
Bic.  Then signed for a rental and drove off. 

Stopping occasionally, from state to state, she flicked her Bic to the
dry, forest underbrush.  In a few weeks America was no more.  It had 
burned to the ground. 

fini 


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