Furl Not Thy Talons

By J.G. Morgan

Major Franklin Williamson was the commander of an ultra secret team of soldiers attached to the CIA so deep it was unknown except for a select few in the highest echelons of the government. Faced with the annihilation of his team on a rescue mission he must sacrifice himself in order for them to escape.
The terrorists thought they had a bargaining chip they could bend to do their bidding. What they did not count on was the resourcefulness and determination of the major nor the fierce loyalty of the ghost team members.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 16, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453574263

J.G. Morgan

John Morgan served in the military of the United States for 32 years, first with the Strategic Air Command of the U. S. Air Force then with the U. S. Army and KY. Army National Guard. Afterwards he again retired from the Kentucky Department of Military Affairs - Facilities Division after 17 years. Due to health concerns he retired from the Keeneland Security Department after 8 years of service. This, his third book to be published, is drawn heavily on his time in the military.

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Copyright © 2010 by J.G. Morgan.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2010913357

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-4535-7425-6

ISBN:   Softcover   978-1-4535-7424-9

ISBN:   Ebook   978-1-4535-7426-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to all those who serve, and have served, in the various special forces of our glorious nation. To those I offer a heartfelt well done and thank you

Contents

PREAMBLE

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

APPENDIX

PREAMBLE

WE ARE ENGAGED in a war! Each side has sworn to annihilate the other. For centuries the fighting has ebbed and flowed as the two wrestled for dominance but still it goes on. For hundreds of years the Holy Crusades swept through Europe and the middle east only to be driven back once more by the followers of Islam and Muhammad. It is an eternal struggle with no beginning, no middle and no ending. In recent times the government of the United States of America has committed their armed forces to this struggle. They have sent their citizens sons and daughters into danger in what is portrayed as a war of revenge but actually is another branch of the ongoing holy war.

I am and have been for most of my life a Christian. I believe Jesus Christ is the son of God. I believe he died on the cross for our sins. I believe the only way to God is through his son. I was raised to believe, I grew up in my faith, I believe. This nation I served for over 40 years in one facet or the other, was founded on one simple principle – the freedom of religion; the freedom to believe what you wish or even not to believe if you so desire and to do so freely and openly without fear of persecution.

During the past decade tolerance for others has waned. This has been brought on by the continual war and suspicion of those who practice another religion foreign to what the majority accepts. This feeling has escalated to the point oppression and objection to the very construction of churches and Mosques has vehemently and publicly leaped to the forefront in even the smallest of towns.

I have read and studied the Holy Bible for the majority of my adult years. I believe the bible was written by man inspired by God. It speaks of mercy, forgiveness and service to God. At the same time it portrays violence, hatred, wars, even the enslavement of others. It even goes so far as to encourage the destruction of countries and their peoples.

Jesus and Muhammad lead very similar lives. Both were simple men who went among the poor and weak and spread their gospel. The main difference, at least I believe, was that Jesus was the true son of the only God and was condemned to an agonizing death on the cross by his very own Jewish people. The main difference here was that Jesus rose from the grave and ascended into heaven, the only LIVING person to accomplish this act.

Yes, both religions have differences in their beliefs. Yes, it is unlikely either will ever bow down to the other, at least until the end of days. No, it is unlikely the majority of people will ever cross over to the other side. That does not mean we cannot listen to each other and read from their written words. We just might lean something.

John G. Morgan

SFC KYARNG (Ret.)

CHAPTER I

SOUTH PACIFIC

FUNAFUTI ISLAND, TUBALU

MAJOR FRANKLIN WILLIAMSON sprawled in the canvas lounge chair on a deserted sandy beach on the out of the way south sea island. Beside him sat a portable ice chest and a fifth of Jim Bean he had diligently been working his way through. Clad only in swim trunks he was working on his tan which was already heavier than most. It was easily seen he was an outdoors man used to being in all types of weather and climates. One look at the scars on his upper body and legs was evidence enough his life had been more than uneventful.

Williamson was a member of the 75th Rangers from Fort Lewis Washington but permanently attached to the Central Intelligence Agency as the commander of a special unit made up of the elitist of the Rangers. He was at present on thirty days leave after a harrowing mission to the middle east and had been attempting to work his way through the female guests of his hotel. He still had two more weeks to go and about half of the women. He was attempting to recover his strength after a bout with an airline attendant the night before.

The Major became aware of a shadow across his chair and, without opening his eyes, growled, You’re standing in my light.

A voice he could not identify replied, Major Williamson? Sorry to interrupt sir but they told me you were out here.

Major Williamson, called Frank, forced his eyes open. He saw a young navy Lieutenant in starched tropical tans wearing the braid of the diplomatic corps, obviously ill at ease. Lieutenant, he said gruffly, I informed the desk I wished not to be disturbed.

Yes sir The young man replied, I am sorry but I have orders to search you out and bring you with me.

Frank relaxed back onto his chair and closed his eyes,

Unless the world is coming to an end in the next five minutes I am not interested.

Sir, I was told to inform you that this involved Kathy.

Major Williamson quickly rose to a sitting position, now fully alert at the mention of the name. Catherine Manning was his on again, off again, lover for the last three years. She was a journalist for the Associated Press and, when between assignments, they shared an apartment.

What about Kathy? Williamson asked.

It seems, sir, she is missing and presumed kidnapped. CIA Assistant Director Bannister requests your presence soonest in his office."

Frank inwardly groaned, Katy had been on assignment covering the latest lash up between Jordan and Israel.

Now what has she gotten herself into? he wondered.

I have a navy two seater waiting at the airport sir. the Lieutenant said, As soon as you are ready the pilot will fly you to the U.S. S. Kitty Hawk for further transportation.

With a sigh the Major rose, folded his chair and picked up the ice chest. He handed the half filled bottle of whisky to the young man,

Someone might as well get some use from this.

At the hotel Frank quickly donned a pair of tan slacks and a short sleeved Hawaiian shirt. He left the tail of the shirt outside and slipped his ever present 9mm into the holster at the base of his spine. On the bed the airline stewardess stirred and murmured his name.

Go back to sleep honey, he said softly, The room is paid up for two more weeks. Enjoy yourself.

At the airport the pilot handed him a helmet, helped him into the back seat and was soon airborne over the sparkling blue waters. The aircraft carrier loomed like a postage stamp in the choppy waters and they landed with a bump.

A full Commander in flight suit met him when he stepped down.

Major, welcome aboard he said then motioned to a transport standing nearby.

We held up the evening shuttle to Guam for you. Climb aboard.

Major Williamson followed him to the transports door where an enlisted chief waited. The chief followed him on board then escorted him to a seat.

Please fasten you seatbelt sir, he said, We will be taking off immediately.

In only the time it took for preparations the aircraft was catapulted flashing down the deck. It dipped toward the waves then straightened and climbed, turning to the northwest.

Frank, never a fan of navy flying, tried to make himself as comfortable as possible for the long flight ahead.

At Guam he was once more met by a full commander who indicated a Hummer standing nearby.

The driver will take you to the civilian terminal. Arrangements have already been made for you on a jet bound for Los Angeles. From there you will have connections to Washington.

After nearly a two hour wait Frank boarded a 747 for the next leg of his journey. There had been some concern about his automatic but, a quick flash of his credentials, cleared up the problem. A comely looking stewardess at the door checked his ticket, smiled seductively and indicated his seat.

High above the Pacific Frank stared out the window at the cloud layer beneath. His mind drifted back to a time when he was just entering college at Montana State University. He had applied for and been accepted in the ROTC program, mainly as a means to earn money for his tuition. Once in he found he enjoyed the courses and the military summer camps that were part of the curricular. He remembered the day of his commissioning as a second lieutenant. His father, a retired Sergeant-Major, had pinned his bars proudly on his shoulders. After the ceremony he had told his only child,

Son, if you are going to be a soldier, be the best you can.

Airborne and Ranger schools had followed and then a tour with the 75th Rangers. On an especially hairy assignment in Africa he had been noticed and taken under the wing of a CIA operative. Rapid promotion had followed accompanied by assignments for the company. Now he was primarily in command of a team who carried out missions of questionable legality but necessary for the security of the country.

Frank’s revere was disturbed by the stewardess as she brought the meal cart alongside his seat. She reached across, giving him an ample view of her endowed breasts, and pulled down the tray then placed a prepared meal onto it. Smiling, she straightened and went on to the next row.

The meal, like many he had eaten on airplanes, was tasteless and unappetizing. Soon finished another attendant, this one male, came through the cabin picking up the remains. Approximately an hour later the stewardess, clipboard in hand, appeared by his seat and stood smiling down at him.

Mr. Williamson, are you stopping at Hawaii or going all the way to Los Angeles with us?

Fred gazed up at her auburn hair and deep brown eyes. The eyes seemed to sparkle mischievously, holding promises of delights to come.

I am going straight thru to Los Angeles he answered.

Oh, good, she replied, Gives us more time to get to know each other.

Fred carefully scrutinized her. It was clear, unless he had lost his perception in women, that she was interested. On a hunch he asked, Is Los Angeles your home base or are you on a turn around there?

Our crew will be laying over for two days before we can take any further flights. she quickly replied.

You do this often? he asked.

Do you mean the lay over? she impishly asked, No, most of the time we land in San Francisco. I took this flight as a favor for a friend of mine who got sick at the last moment.

She stood uncertainly then asked, Do you know Los Angeles?

Frank smiled and nodded,

I have spent some time there. Once was stationed not far outside.

Maybe you could show me around she smiled, If you have the time and are not otherwise busy.

Regretfully, he shook his head no,

I’m not staying, only changing flights to Washington.

Disappointment was mirrored on her face as she replied,

Maybe some other time then?

She turned and walked down the isle. He was treated to the enticing sight of her derriere undulating from side to side as she moved.

A fat businessman seated across the isle stared at the same view. He grinned lecherously and said, Sure fills out that uniform doesn’t she?

At a hard look from Frank he suddenly became interested in a magazine he held on his lap.

At Los Angeles Frank was met by a representative of the airport who whisked him by electric cart to a distant terminal where a plane to Washington was preparing to depart.

He quickly boarded and settled in for the cross country flight.

After departing the plane at Washington Airport Frank took a cab to the Astoria hotel. When he walked to the desk the clerk greeted him with a smile of recognition.

Major Williamson, good to see you again. Your reservation has been received and your room ready. If you will just sign in we will get you settled.

The clerk turned to the pigeonholes behind him and extracted a sealed envelope.

This was delivered to you a while ago sir.?

Frank tore open the envelope and extracted a single sheet of paper. On it was written, Nine AM tomorrow in my office.

It was signed simply Jesse.

In his room Williamson stripped then took a long shower. Afterwards he ordered a simple meal from the menu and, when it arrived, slowly ate. He placed the empty dishes outside then went to bed, attempting to compensate for the jet lag he was feeling.

CIA HEADQUARTERS

FAIRFAX CO, VIRGINIA

As was his habit Major Williamson woke at 5:00 AM. He completed his required number of set ups and push ups then took another quick shower and dressed in a civilian suit. The hotel dinning room opened at 6:00 AM and he enjoyed a hardy breakfast then had the doorman hail him a cab. At five minutes to nine he arrived at the office of the assistant director of the CIA and presented himself before his personal secretary. She checked his appointment and announced him via her phone. At 9:00 sharp the assistant director rang for him to enter his office.

Jesse Bannister was seated behind his desk looking over some folders that were laying before him. He rose and extended his hand. Thanks in being so prompt in coming Frank. he said.

Major Williamson returned his handshake,

It seemed important, something about Katy?

Bannister indicated a chair in front of the desk then seated himself once more. He punched the intercom button and said, Cindy, two coffees please and bring the file with the latest intelligence on Syria as well.

Bannister resumed his seat. His secretary politely knocked on the closed door then opened it and entered bearing a small tray with two cups of steaming coffee and a plain manila file folder. She placed both cups on the desk then laid the file in front of her boss and left after smiling pleasantly at Williamson.

Bannister opened the file and quickly reviewed the information silently. Major Williamson, a patient man by nature, sat quietly sipping his coffee and waiting. Finished, Bannister closed the file and looked up,

Kathy was following a lead story in regard to a terrorist group known as Al Hesbolan, a splinter group of the Hezbollah. State warned her about traveling to Syria but she was adamant, you know how she could be when on assignment.

Frank nodded his head and said nothing.

Four days ago she turned up at the embassy in Damascus and registered her itinerary. She then took a room at the Royal Hotel. A day later she met with an Arab that our sources say was her contact. They left the hotel together, not leaving word where she was going. Again, our sources have uncovered the fact she was bound for Tadmur when last seen.

Williamson raised his head and looked the assistant director directly in the eyes,

Jesse, level with me. Was Kathy on assignment with the Agency?

Bannister returned the stare, neither confirming nor denying the question.

So, what is it you want from me? Frank asked.

Satellite imagery revealed the vehicle that is believed to be the one she used traveled in the direction of Tadmur. It was last seen parked beside a residence in the city. We need your team to go in and find out if she is there or, if not, where she has been taken. The Associated Press is breathing down the neck of state for this information and they, in turn, are clamoring for us to provide the answers.

And if she is held against her will?

You know the answer to that without me telling you.

Same rules as always if we get caught I guess?

Banister did not even bother answering simply stared.

Frank knew the answer. If caught, the United States government would deny any accountability for their actions. They would merely be a rogue unit out for mercenary purposes.

How long do I have to prepare? Frank asked

"Gather your team and be ready to depart in twenty-four