Last War Read Online Free PDF

Jason..."
         Those words pierced his heart. At one point in the marriage, she’d use the words "sweetie," "babe" or "honey" to address him. Even “Jay”. Jason didn't remember her, really, ever using his full fi rst name. Jason was a name that, even, some people in the likes of Saddam Hussein would refer to him. No one close to him ever used his full name.  
         She continued.
         "Look at the TV. Isn't that someone you worked with?"
         Christine turned up the television as the reporter filled in the details.
     
    "Sources confirmed that the body of the young woman is, in fact, Tameka Washington. She was found in her  own home shot multiple times sometime in the afternoon today. Police reports indicate that a couple days prior to this, two men tried to sexually assault her. While there are no signs of rape, we are still waiting for more answers. The young lady held a job in the Homeland Security department, but authorities say this is completely unrelated to her death. The DHS declined to make a statement when we contacted them. For now this is all we've got. My name is Melinda Kershaw in the nation’s capitol, for the Channel 9 news."
     
         Christine bit her bottom lip before saying, "She works for you doesn't she?"
         Jason, very worried, gazed into the television. “At least, she did .” Jason hopped up from the couch as he collected his empty plate. “Hey look, babe, I’ve gotta get some rest, I’m guessing tomorrow is going to be a hectic day.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I love you. Night.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    
     
    IV
     
    September 4, 2001
    10:04 p.m. EDT
    WTC Building 7
         The building stood quiet while Jason sat back into his office chair. National security drills were the hardest to plan. He only had a week left to make sure everything was lined up correctly. Clicking through files on his PC, everything seemed in place. He had planned to run through the simulator the next night to confirm.
         Egypt ’s state of affairs, however, was still on his mind. 
         As Jason reached into a medium-sized duffle bag under his work desk, he felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket.
         “Hello?”
         “Daddy.”
         “Hey, sweet pea. I’m sorry, I’m still working.” He said while placing a laptop on his desk next to his work PC.
         “Will you be home soon?”
         “I don’t think in time enough, babes. I’m sorry.”
         There was silence on the other end of the phone before Jason continued. “How about I continue telling you the story here over the phone? I should be packing up to come home pretty soon. K?”
         “Alright, I guess.”
         “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s—it’s test week for me. Just like I always tell you that you can’t, I can’t fail my tests either. Capeesh?”
         Vanessa laughed. “Capeesh, daddy.” 
         “One second.”
         Jason logged onto his laptop to see 300 new messages. He logged into a secure chatroom filled with a legion of unknown chatters who had come together for a cause to support the Egyptian people. They were activists. Of course, his account was unknown, as well.
         He wondered if that made him completely a member of the group known as The Unknown Hacktivists.
         There were explicit live videos being posted of Egyptian police officers firing assault rifles into the crowds of thousands. All of the videos were first person angles, which left a real authentic rush of emotion, while watching police spraying bullets in his direction. The chatroom was also discussing the Egyptian government attempting to cut off all internet access to the country.
         Of course, having access to what he did as the current NSA director of the NYC