Chapter 7 Keyaa...Goodbye

 

 

 

SHORT IN HEIGHT, TALL IN COURAGE

Chapter 7

Keyaa...Goodbye

 

      The phone was busy. Sarah Goldstein, the U.S. representative at the United Nations, affirmed her attendance at Mark and Chan's joint funerals. WCPN's BOD sent three messages, one for me, one for Mark's family, and one for Chan's family.

     The message to me expressed the heartfelt condolences of the board and their total approval of our courageous actions in Somalia. One part read, "We knew when The Team was formed that the aspect of death could not be avoided, but the loss of Mark and Chan has devastated all of us. As a covert organization, we must watch what we do publicly. Still, it has been agonizingly difficult to hide our public sorrow over these two brave and devout men that served our God and us so willingly and in making the ultimate human sacrifice for our God. Give The Team our Blessings and tell them they are daily in our prayers. God Bless you all." I read this while telling The Team that we should not let Mark's and Chan's deaths destroy us but that those deaths should make us stronger and more resolute in our service and sacrifice for our Lord. If we dissolve The Team, it will make the sacrifices of Mark and Chan worthless. Satan would win, therefore having the last laugh.

     I recall Mabior standing up and quietly answering for The Team, "I speak for every man here. Not one man will quit until he is dead or our mission is finished. We all owe it to our Lord and our two fallen brothers."

     That was as I knew it would be.

     We went as a team to Chan's family gathered at the family home. He was not married but had a large family of uncles, aunts, and cousins in attendance. His Mother, Father, Brothers, and Sisters had all been massacred by Al Qaeda. Chan had been out tending the cattle when the attack occurred. I was drawn to him in the recruiting process from all who knew him having such high regard for him. The massacre had made him a mental wreck, as it would anyone. Mark, Mabior, and I spent many nights sitting by his bedside while he experienced horrible nightmares. WCPN supplies some of the finest Psychiatrists and psychologists for our men. The organization flew all the future team members to Europe for months of treatment. From the beginning, our purpose was to find the kind of men that our Lord loves most, the men laid low by the trials and tribulations of life but possessing a rugged and impregnable faith.

     Chan's Uncle, Abdul Wadood, had taken charge of the family unit after Chan's parent's death. He raised Chan in the same way as his father, with a rock-solid faith in our Lord.

     The room went silent from respect for his Uncle as he rose to speak, "When my nephew asked my permission to join The Team, as it is now called, I told him to never say no to our Lord, but to always say no to Satan. He lived and died in a way that has brought great honor to his family and his Lord. Who would have ever dreamed that a poor Dinka herdsman would be mourned by presidents and kings? I have the proof from all those important people in my possession in these letters. However, his greatest honor was to give his life while serving our Lord. We, his family, are honored and hope his death strengthens The Team as it has strengthened all of us here today. We all mourn but are joyful in spirit as our Lord asks us to be. It is not for us to understand all that God asks of us or brings upon us. We serve Him knowing that everything he commands and does is good. At night, I soak my bed with my tears, but in the light of day, I dry my tears to honor my God with a joyful heart for His glory. I ask that all of you do the same. God bless you all, my brothers and sisters in Christ. Let Chan and Mark's death - they were such great brothers in Christ - he choked back the tears trying to compose himself, 'Oh, my Lord, I am so overcome. Let their death not be the end."

     Everyone had tears streaming down their cheeks but a smile on their faces. It was a difficult day, but, like Uncle Abdul said, "Let Chan and Mark's death be the beginning."

     Uncle Abdul politely asked everyone to walk outside and take part in the banquet the family had prepared for the life celebration of Chan and Mark. This would give him and me a few moments to discuss critical business. Everyone exited the house to the huge feast. It was time to celebrate lives, not mourn them.

     Uncle waited till the home had cleared of guests. A warm smile came over his face as he informed me that, "...the outer ring intelligence organization has been activated. The villages surrounding Yei are online. We will find them soon enough. Everyone knew they would come for us after the Somali operation. Do they think we are stupid? The Iranians lost a lot of goods there. And they will lose even more within the coming days. Mark and Chan must be smiling from heaven," he added a wink as he finished.

     A return wink was given to Uncle as I remarked, "God will see to it that those who attack His children will experience His wrath. Whatever they throw at us, we shall throw it back at them seven times seven. WCPN sends their love and grateful appreciation for all your behind the scene work, Uncle. Your great standing with the people in South Sudan gives us a decided edge."

     Uncle hugged me, saying, "We have and will march into hell for a heavenly cause. Now, let us join the celebration feast."

     Immediately upon arriving back at our headquarters after the Revelations Mission, I had appointed Mabior as my new executive in charge. He deserved it, but it was sad that it had to be under such regretful circumstances. Alek would move to Mabior's position on Team #2 but still be in charge of weapons distribution and training. Samuel will become Alek's number two man while on the convoy point in transit and Alek's assistant on Team #2 in attack position. Also, Samuel will remain Mabior's assistant on planning and retaining the coordinator of language training. Alek is not solid in his language skills, but Samuel will address that minor detail. Amani will take the rear observation or clean up on convoys.

     Once he sees something, he never forgets any details. He has a photographic memory. Alek calls him The Team's data storage box. "When I order replacement parts for our weapons, I give the list to Storage Box over there, and he writes all the part numbers down from memory. Amani is faster than a computer." He had been on Alek's #6 team from the beginning and is well educated on all the weapons we use. Team #6 is already adjusted to his quirks. Amani doesn't use humor and doesn't understand it, still a good and loving person.

     With Chan and Mark gone, we were forced to look at potential replacements. Who would God lead us to?

     The next day, still bursting at the seams from the celebration feast, I rose early to prepare for the funerals. Mabior and I were asked to pick up Mark's parents, Brigadier General Stan Iverson and Ruth Iverson, upon their arrival at the airport. People speculated that Mark's father was involved with some top-secret organization, but Mark always shrugged them off with a "have no clue about my Father's business." Mark's mother is a world-renowned Jewish/Christian Archeologist. The family is solid in Christ. Yes, they both were highly involved with the WCPN organization.

     Years ago, when Mark and I were at one of those boring dinner parties in Washington, I first met his parents. To me, General Iverson and Mrs. Iverson walked into the crowded room and automatically grabbed everyone's attention by the piety that showed in their faces. They are absolutely set apart by God. At the moment of their entrance, a waiter ran into the General with a tray of wine. The General and Mrs. Iverson were not upset. Quite the contrary, both set about on their hands and knees helping the shamefaced waiter clean the resulting mess. Mrs. Iverson told the waiter, "Don't worry about this old dress. If people like us for our clothes, they are too focused on the unimportant things in life." The General looked the waiter in the eye with a "Ditto that." The couple spent the entire evening with all those VIPs in those same wine-stained clothes. When the night ended, and the two were exiting, they sought out and gave the waiter a big loving hug. Their power and respect come from our Lord, not uniform and rank.

     I pulled to a stop in front of Mabior's temporary home to see him standing there waiting. We were adding on to the compound to give living quarters to all the men. I was absolutely taken aback by his appearance. He stood erect in his brand new uniform designed by The Team and furnished by WCPN. There was no mistaking that he had the look of a military leader. He projected all the poise, coolness, and confidence needed to be a leader. Our Lord was genuinely lifting him up.

     The new uniforms consisted of navy blue pants with two gold stripes on the outside seam. The shirt was powder-puff blue with silver buttons. A navy blue jacket had one gold line down the outer crease of the sleeve with a patch on the right sleeve. Silver buttons with crosses put the finishing touch on it. The patch had The Team embroidered over the top with a background of red overlaid with a cross. A peaked cap, copied from the U. S. Army, was solid navy blue with a silver cross emblem and a silver band around the outer bottom of the hat.

     As he climbed into the vehicle and settled in, I told him just how impressive-looking he was. He lowered his head in embarrassed humility while uttering, "Thank you, Chief. I just wish Mark and Chan had been allowed to wear these beautiful uniforms. We will all be forever grateful to you for lifting us up out of the gutter."

     Mabior's comment touched me deeply. "Mabior, my brother in Christ, I did not pull you all out of the gutter. God sent me to ask his finest servants to join his special forces unit. You, my brother, are the best of the best - and don't ever forget it or let anyone convince you that you are not."

     Mabior sat quietly after that but lifted his chin and redeemed that natural look of total confidence.

     After we parked the vehicle and entered the airport's waiting area, all the local Dinka eyes were on Mabior. Everywhere he walked, the room became hushed with his presence. All the children, along with some of the adults, saluted him. Mabior honored them all with a snappy military salute. I was amazed to see even the South Sudanese security soldiers in their raggedy and untailored uniforms render a salute. The Team's Dinka members quietly gave the South Sudanese people someone to respect and emulate. I recalled hearing multiple times, whenever one of the team members was not acting according to The Team's standard, a team member would admonish them with, "Remember who you are and who you represent!"

     We had but a short wait. I caught sight of the General and Mrs. Iverson walking toward us and gave a wave. The pair walked up to us with eyes visibly wide open. General Iverson blurted out, "General Jefferson and Mabior, You two look absolutely astounding in the new uniforms."

     Mrs. Iverson added, "A more striking pair I've never set eyes upon!" At that point, she extended her arm to Mabior, saying, "Officer, I would be proud to have you escort me to the baggage area."

     General Iverson laughed while remarking, "Who would ever have dreamed something like this ten years ago when this all began? Look at all these locals standing and saluting Mabior out of respect. And he deserves all this adulation. He and The Team are bringing glory to God and uplifting South Sudan. This is what we dreamed of, but only with God is it possible."

     We drove into the Church parking area through a throng of thousands. The Team, looking glorious in their new uniforms and equaling the best military units of the world, stood at parade rest in a line to escort the Iverson's and Chan's family into the church. The Team entered in two lines with Mabior and me at the front. Mark's and Chan's families were seated in the front rows. Uncle had respectfully invited the Iversons to sit beside him and his wife.

     Sudan had been governed during the British colonial period as a split government between Egypt and Britain. Britain never had to occupy Sudan because the British traders took care of that for them. Due to the overwhelming British influence, most Dinkas spoke English as their second language; therefore, the service was done entirely in English.

     The Team sat on the stage behind the pulpit. Samuel and Deng stood and walked to the pulpit. Then a very elegant-looking woman of Dinka heritage made her way on stage, placing herself between Samuel and Deng. Samuel stepped up on a riser made for him. He instructed everyone to turn to the song listed in the order of service, "Let There Be Peace on Earth," then they began singing as the audience joined in. To outsiders, the voices of Samuel and Deng were a shock. The pair had beautiful and rangy tenor voices. The lady was quite an eye-opener on her own. Her name is Mary Atong. (her middle name, because last names are unspoken in the Dinka culture. That is why I do not include last names in my stories with Dinka characters.) Unknown to most in attendance, Mary is world-famous as Mary Bellefonte, the soprano opera star. Between the three on stage that day, they came close to breaking every window in the church, my estimation. The trio ran through "Give Me Jesus" by Fernando Ortega, Mark's favorite, "I Then Shall Live" by Gloria Gaither, Chan's most loved, and the song that brought the house down, The Team's song, "Impossible Dream" by Joe Darion.

     After the singing, Samuel led the congregation in a heart-rending prayer. Deng followed up with a beautiful reading of Matthew 5, "The Beatitudes" or "The Sermon on the Mount." Samuel with his arm around him through the entire episode. Toward the end, the whole team stood and surrounded Samuel and Deng with all heads bent and weeping.

     The Team then dried their eyes as much as possible before walking from the stage to stand in front of Chan's and Mark's families. This action caused me to lose control. The Team took the families' hands, lifting them to standing. Then they were asked to join them in the "Lord's Prayer." I have never heard the "Lord's Prayer" spoken with such sincere emotion.

     To end the service, Samuel came to the pulpit to give a heart-wrenching speech, "All of us here know that when we become Christians, our Lord never said nor implied that we would all become rich and would have no further worries. Quite the contrary, our Lord promised us trials and tribulations if we lifted up our own crosses and followed him. Mark and Chan knew this. However, that does not mean it does not hurt deeply when they die while serving him. In addition, God called them home at an age that seems much too young. Keyaa, goodbye, my friends, my teammates. You are sorely missed. We all have our ideas of the paradise they now are in - yet it hurts - hurts so bad. At night we are tormented. I should have been there. I spent my time locked in safety. By the grace of God almighty, we will drag before our God all those responsible. I will not rest till their bodies are buried six feet under. If necessary, I will spend the rest of my life hunting them down."

     The Team came forward surrounding Samuel. Their rock was suffering. They all joined hands and prayed. After prayers, they escorted Samuel back to his seat while Mabior and I kept our arms around him.

     The service ended with the families being escorted back to their vehicles amid the throngs gathered outside the church. An angry chant rose among the crowd yelling, "Kill the monsters! Kill Al Qaeda!"

     Upon leaving the church, Samuel saw this spectacle unfolding with horror. He was visibly shaken by their anger. Shouting to The Team, "I have led these people astray, and, now, I must turn them back to the right path." The Team hoisted him up on their shoulders, and he began to address the crowd, "I am just as angry as you, but anger and killing is not the answer. I assure you, these monsters will be brought to justice. To prevent these kinds of monsters from arising in the future, we must turn our hearts to God. We must clothe ourselves in his loving image so that the world can see the truth that our Lord Jesus Christ loves, and our job is to show it to the world. Martin Luther King, Jr. put it this way, "Only love can defeat hate, and only light can defeat darkness." Go and work at making yourselves look like him, the son of God, Jesus Christ. Then we will see the monsters begin to die away. Lend a helping hand to your neighbor instead of mocking him. Love your enemies, and then you will no longer have enemies. Give with no expectation of return. I hear some of you say that you have no love to give so and so. Is it possible that you do not love yourself? You cannot love others until you first love yourself. Why do you hate what our God has made with such divine love? Why do you not ask God to show you the way to a self that is worth loving? Why do you not ask God for His love and understanding, His wisdom and strength? Why do you point out the splinter in someone's eye when you have a log in yours? You shout about killing the monsters, My brothers and sisters, over two thousand years ago, Jesus Christ gave us the answer, and that answer did not involve hate and killing. let us practice it."

     On the ride back to the airport that afternoon, General Iverson told Mabior and me that he now understood why we give Samuel so much respect. "All of us within WCPN need to keep our Lord's words at the forefront as we walk through this confusing world." He also commented, "if we give in to our anger and hate, we will be no better than the monsters we are doing battle With. From experience, that is a tough thing to do."

     After we arrived at the airport, the General motioned us to not exit the vehicle just yet, that he had something further to say, "JJ, Mabior, as you know, they are coming for you. Keep God close at hand. We have complete confidence in The Team and Uncle's intel network to handle what's coming. God Bless you all."

     I tried to focus my sleep-blurred eyes on the clock beside my bed. It read 3:19 am, much too early for a call. "James Jefferson speaking. Who? I'm so sorry, Uncle. Can you text me all this info? Thank you, my brother. Yes, we'll be ready and waiting. For God. Goodbye. and keep me informed." I Gotta put some cold water on my face. Mabior! They're here. Up and at 'em."

     Mabior had already risen with the sound of my phone. The conversation confirmed his suspicions. He was already walking around the room, jostling everyone awake. All the men had slept fully clothed. They just slid out of bed and into their boots as they had learned to do long ago.

     Mabior shouted, "Assembly formation! I want to see only game faces looking at me. It's time to show these bad boys who the real bad boys are. Is that right!"

     The Team shouted back, "That's right! For God!

     In a loud but friendly tone, Mabior shouted, "Grab your pieces, lock and load, and off to your stations after I give you the latest details." Reading the text on my phone from Uncle, "Nothing has changed as to our planning at this point. The insurgents should be here in approximately one hour and forty-five minutes. Per our planning, we will pick up observation on the east road into Yei. They are traveling in a white late-model Chevy Tahoe with darkened windows. The other group members are under close observation in the outer city areas and will be taken into custody as our Dinka ops guys receive word of the capture of their two leaders - as planned. These are very dangerous people. I want you all back here in top shape. Be on your best mental game around these bad guys. Let's make it a clean op, men. Prayer, then  off to your stations."

     As I listened and looked over the men as they prepared, I couldn't help but be overcome with pride. All of them had come so far since the early days. Nobody complained about or disputed orders. How professional they are. How talented they all are. I know our Lord must be happy with them as well. They serve him so lovingly. Mabior brought me back to earth with a question, "Chief, you ready?"

     "Yes, sir, let's position ourselves. Off with the lights and on with the night goggles."

     At that moment, the front door opened, and in walked Leah and four men, two of which we recognized and two we had never seen before. They had Uzi submachine guns, good for close quarter combat.  On their foreheads perched night goggles. Leah gave the three of us a hug saying, "My boys, how are you? I've missed you so much."

     Everyone gave out sincere hugs. The Team always brightened when Mossad was around.

     "I hope you can forgive us for not attending the funeral. You know that we had to keep up observation on this incoming team. The tough looking guys with me are all fakes. We all broke down sobbing upon seeing one another after the mission. Two of God's chosen, Mark and Chan, taken much too early."

     With a smile, I said, "Of course, you all are forgiven. Mark and Chan never had a bad word on their lips about any of you. Without Mossad's help, where would we be? We were just about to turn lights off and get into position." As Mabior headed to turn the lights off, I caught up with him and, in a whisper, asked, "Did I imagine it, or did I just see Samuel and Leah lock eyes after the hug? You know, like a way more than friendly eye contact?"

     Mabior gave a quiet smirk, "Really, Chief, you are always so behind things of this nature."

     I stood for a moment staring at Mabior after the lights went out and asked myself, "What did he mean by that?"

     We knelt in silence in the dark, wearing those goofy-looking night goggles. Every noise outside caused us to flex our eyes and ears. All of us could hear each other's stomachs gurgling. In these stakeout scenarios, minutes pass by like hours. I'm getting too old for this. It makes my joints stiff to stand still like this for prolonged periods.

     Suddenly Mabior whispered, "Shadows to the right."

     The shadows were bent over as they made their way to the door. I could hear the sound of the locksmith tools as they noisily fiddled with the two-door locks. I stood there thinking, "Are these misfits the best you could muster to send against us? Finally, they were in. The door creaked loudly, causing the two men to hit one another in a Laurel and Hardy slapstick move. I'd had enough. I tapped Samuel beside me as our signal.

     Samuel yelled in Farci, "Get on the floor, now! We won't hesitate to kill you. Hands behind your back! Do you speak Hebrew?"

     I flicked on the lights.

     The two men began to shake at Samuel's shouted commands. The insurgents had their hands and feet shackled with bags placed on their heads in a smooth action. The lock-picker man, probably the leader, asked, "Are you Jews? We do not speak Hebrew, sir. Please, don't hurt us. We just came to burgle the place."

     Leah stepped in front of Samuel commanding the man, "Shut up! We Jews are in charge here. We will ask the questions!!" I could tell she delighted in saying those words, and I kind of delighted in them, myself.

     Samuel resumed, "Are you alone?"

     The lock-picker said nervously, "Yes, sir."

     Samuel asked, "Who sent you?"

     The lock-picker answered in a stammer, "Nobody, we are just common thieves, sir."

     Leah stepped in for good this time, yelling in Farsi, "No thief, common or otherwise, would attempt to burglarize such a place as this. Do you think we are idiots? We captured the other six comrades of yours. They are already giving us information." Leah bent down and turned the lock picker's head to make sure his ears were focused, "Yes, we are Jews. Does it bother you that you will be transported to Israel to have a long conversation with our Mossad burglary specialists? We Jews don't particularly like to be burgled. Especially if those burglars are Iranian military. Jewish and Persian friendships go back thousands of years. They are good people, but the tyrants who rule them are pure trash. Let's get them out of here. I'm sick of talking to these terrorists."

     We all helped carry and secure the insurgents in the waiting van for transport to the airport. After a few last words from Leah, the van shot off for the airport, leaving us in a cloud of dust. We all turned to go back inside.

     Leah turned and smiled at Samuel standing there, and he returned it. As we entered the building, Mabior stopped beside me and nudged me with his shoulder. In a low voice and mouth half-covered by his hand, he said, "Well, did you see it, the looks?" My Dinka assistant was actually playing me. He was going to make a great assistant.

     I was the shoe shuffler, now, "Aww, it was just two people looking at one another. Wasn't it?"

     Mabior, taking on one of Mark and my habits, just shrugged. How irritating to have your own bad habits thrown back at you. 

     Then Samuel walked over to us, asking, "What are you two being so secretive about?"

     Mabior answered, "Ask the Chief. He'll fill you in with all the details." He dared to just walk away, leaving me standing alone with Samuel. If you haven't figured it out, I'm no different from Samuel regarding the opposite sex. I'm just an old soldier. I'm for sure not good at discussing someone's romance.

     Samuel looked at me with concern, "Chief, you okay? You are sweating and looking really flushed."

     Leah walked over to us to say goodbye. She saved me from that uncomfortable conversation.

     At this time, Alek walked up and handed a manila envelope to Samuel, saying, "This is what you said to pick up after we got the insurgents from the perimeter off to the airport."

     Samuel thanked Alek and handed the envelope directly to Leah. She responded, saying, "What's this, Sam?" I nearly spit the mouthful of water I had just taken. Sam?

     Samuel smiled as he told her, "It's the Iranian battle codes for a pre-emptive strike against Israel." Samuel or Sam looked like a cat that had just caught a mouse.

     Leah took in a deep breath and stared at Samuel for a moment before asking, "Come on, are you pulling my leg, Sam? Where would you get the Iranian battle codes? You are joking, right?"

     Samuel just stared at her while slowly moving his head back and forth to signify a negative answer.

     I told Leah, "Samuel does not joke about these things. He has the contacts."

     After a long stare-down, she grabbed each side of his head, pulling him to her while planting a kiss on him. I've seen Samuel shy around women, but I've never seen him so red and so about to faint.

     Mabior and Alek gave a loud, "Yahoo! Get 'em, Okie cowboy," while slapping their knees.

     I looked at what was before me, and the only thing that would come out of my mouth was, "I guess that pretty well wraps this little mission up. Well, good night, everyone. Oh, guess this is the building I sleep in. Ha, everyone, just stay as long as you like. Don't mind me." Now, I was the one Mabior and Alek were laughing at. Strange as it sounds, I said a little silent prayer at this moment, "Dear heavenly Father, don't let them start in on me about marriage, now. You know I'm terrible at sitting in an easy chair watching TV. I can't do small talk, either. Father, I have absolutely no earthly idea what to do with a baby."

     On top of all this, Samuel yelled, "Shooter!" Almost simultaneously, a bullet ripped through the window beside me. The bullet tore through my shirt but only caused a slight surface wound. Samuel fired a three-round burst, and Mabior, Alek, Leah, and I shot out through the open door. We saw a man just on the inside of the wall slowly crumple to the ground. Mabior, Samuel, and I ran to the downed insurgent while Alek and Leah sauntered toward the same area while turning in a rapid circle to check for further shooters.

     Mabior and Leah stayed vigilant, scanning the area for shooters, while Alek ran up the stairway to the top of the compound's eight-foot wall. Samuel and I bent down to see if a doctor was necessary for the downed shooter. He was deceased. Samuel quietly brushed the man's hair back out of his face with his hand, saying, "Why did you make me do it? I could have offered you eternal life with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ." He prayed to God for the man's soul.

     Shouting erupted somewhere around the buildings across the road outside the compound. Then, quick bursts from what sounded like two Scars. Those bursts were followed closely by a series of single shots, a pause of maybe three seconds, then another pair of three-shot blasts. Alek listened to the shouts that seemed to be coming closer. He repeated their words, "They are down, repeat, they are down!" A pause ensued, then a shout that we all heard, "My man deceased!" Quickly followed by, "My man alive - barely."

     We all climbed onto the catwalk that ran along the entire inside of the compound wall. Mabior yelled, "Need a report!"

     Mar and Alier came into view dragging the wounded man by the collar while twisting and turning to keep a close eye on their surroundings. Mar yelled, "Mabior, we put two out of four down that made it through the outer village net."

     Mabior shouted back, "We captured one and put one down. All okay?"

     Alier replied, "Yes, sir, but we will definitely need to tweak the outer village net before the next event."

     Mabior smiled with his reply, "Everyone is safe, and that is what matters at this time."

     Mar and Alier dragged the man through the compound gate. Mar said, in an angry tone, while kicking the wounded man, We have to go back. That man that you all killed? He shot and killed a pregnant lady and her baby while shooting at us. We need to comfort the family."

     Mabior put his arm around Mar's shoulders, "Easy brother. remember your training, and do not become them. Go to the family. I will take care of this man."

     I gave orders to Mabior, Samuel, Alek, and Leah, "Round up the live insurgents caught in the outer ring, then get them on their way to the airport. Any problems, I'll be here and available. Cover the dead ones with tarps, and I'll call the army for details on what to do with them."

     As I walked toward the meeting room, I ran the night's events through my head, "I really didn't think the Iranians would take us on this soon and this heavy. We must have really hurt and embarrassed them. Our little Christian team, made up of God-empowered write-offs, was having an effect on the world of terrorism." I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Did they think God would be intimidated?"