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"Beauty in the Least" is an FBI Inspector Joe Giralo crime-fighting story and it is one of 25 tales appearing in Jay Dubya's e-book (Kindle, Nook, Smashwords) The FBI Inspector.
“Beauty in the Least”
One of Inspector Joe Giralo’s most baffling-but-interesting cases was what his loyal subordinates Agents Sal Velardi, Arthur Orsi and Dan Blachford have often genially referred to as “File 537, Beauty and the Least”. The particular gleaned subject matter had gained the FBI’s attention when a series of similar horrific crimes had been conducted in various cities across the U.S., all of the violent episodes dealing with beauty pageant contestants and also with well-established cosmetology schools.
On the sunny morning of Tuesday, September 1, 2015 Agent Velardi was comfortably seated behind his desk inside his nondescript Philadelphia office and casually reviewing crime statistic charts when the ever-vigilant G-man received an urgent phone call from his immediate superior.
“Salvatore, I’m now just leaving Dr. Ralph Lanciano’s Cherry Hill office,” prefaced Inspector Giralo. “You know, Ralph’s my trusted ophthalmologist who has taken care of my eyes for the past twenty-seven years. If you recall, his other New Jersey office is on the Pike over in Somerdale. I believe that Arty and Dan are also Ralph’s patients. Now that your Lions Club friend Dr. Steve Streitfeld has moved his practice from Hammonton to Mays Landing,” Giralo calmly declared, “you’ll probably want to switch over to Dr. Lanciano too!” the Boss recommended. “As you get older Sal, you’ll learn that optometrists are okay, but sooner or later, you’ll need the vital services of a highly-skilled ophthalmologist.”
“Did you read a few chapters from a romance novel, or perhaps either peruse through a vampire or zombie sci-fi book while sitting in the waiting room?” Agent Velardi awkwardly joked. “I know your exact habits and propensities, Chief! If you aren’t fully absorbed into female mushy, pulp literature, you’re actively involved in reading totally off-the-wall, weird alien stuff!”
“Cut-out the ridiculous comedy-hour humor nonsense,” Joe Giralo abruptly chastised. “I’ve just learned that I’ll soon be needing cataracts removed from both eyes. The operations are scheduled for October 6th at Wills Eye Hospital, you know, it’s directly across the street from the Walnut Street Theater. Dr. Lanciano’s very reputable associate Dr. Penne is going to perform the surgery.”
“Is Dr. Penne going to be assisted by Dr. Rigatoni and Dr. Lasagna,” Agent Velardi clumsily jested. “If you want to know the truth Boss, just the mere thought of your impending operation is making me quite hungry!”
“Cataracts are no laughing matter!” the caller reprimanded, feigning being insulted. “And don’t try making another bizarre un-funny pun stating that the Nile River has lived with cataracts for thousands of years. I remember quite vividly that my maternal grandfather had had his cataracts removed back in the early ‘70s, and I gotta’ tell ya’, he had to wear heavy bandages over his eyes for several weeks. Medical technology has really significantly advanced in the last half century, and now the delicate procedure has become rather ordinary in nature for competent doctors to perform.”
“You’ll have better super-vision to do your supervision,” Velardi jested, laughing at his mediocre double entendre. “Now Boss, why else besides your bothersome cataracts have you contacted me and annoyingly interrupted my intense FBI research?”
“Salvatore, I want you, Arty and Dan to be in my office at 1 p.m. sharp,” the Boss imperatively insisted. “I have some important details to discuss with you three notorious savants, certain facts that are connected with the rash of beauty pageant sabotages that have been plaguing the country. I think that Matt Riley and his team down in DC are finally excavating some pertinent information that’ll allow us to be accurately identifying the prime suspects. I’m not Alexandre Dumas, but it’s essential that my Three Musketeers be present for the briefing.”
“That’s terrific news,” impressed Agent Velardi promptly acknowledged. “Prime suspects are always more relevant than targeted persons of interest. We’ll see you at one this afternoon. And here’s some sage gastronomic advice for you Chief. On your way back to ‘Philly, don’t stop and eat more than two double hamburgers at that Jersey 5 Guys restaurant you’re always bragging about!”
“5 Guys is much better than Martin Luther’s appetite,” Inspector Giralo quipped back. “If I recollect, the rebellious Protestant Reformation leader had a Diet of Worms!” Click.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Inspector Giralo’s Philadelphia arrival had been delayed by a massive traffic snarl on the Camden side of the Ben Franklin Bridge, so by the time the Chief had parked his gray Chevy Suburban in a lot adjacent to 600 Arch Street, the time of day had already been 1:12 p.m, a dozen minutes past the meeting he had scheduled. The normally-punctual and slightly embarrassed Boss quickly stepped into the main lobby elevator and was soon ascending to the all-too-mundane eighth floor. Against his normal authoritarian demeanor, the FBI Inspector briefly apologized to his three noteworthy underlings who had already been assembled and seated inside the Chief’s spacious-but-modestly furnished office.
“The bridge traffic was horrendous,” florid-faced Giralo claimed. “And if I didn’t have E-Z Pass, it would’ve taken me five more minutes to get through any of the designated toll booths. And to top-off my challenging day,” the sweating federal bureaucrat maintained before breathing-in a quantity of oxygen, “I have a dental cleaning appointment back in Hammonton at four this afternoon.”
“How did you successfully cope with your severe highway congestion?” Agent Velardi asked. “Did you listen to the local classical radio station to calm your nerves?”
“No Sal, you’ll be delighted to know that I was tuned-in to WOGL-FM, the ‘Philly oldies station, and the DJ was playing one of your favorite songs!”
“Sorry, I Ran All The Way Home?” Velardi instinctively replied. “That’s truly a fantastic rock and roll hit from 1958 sung by the Impalas. I simply love that upbeat tune and never grow tired of listening to it!”
“No Salvatore, I was actually thinking about ‘Rock Around The Clock’ by Bill Haley,” the Boss contradicted and answered. “My close friend DJ Lou Costello at W-VLT down in Vineland plays the Comets all the time during his morning show. But I have to compliment you Sal. That other popular ‘50s song you’ve just mentioned by the Impalas has just stimulated my formerly dormant investigative mind right out of its boring monotony!”
After Giralo had true-to-form enthusiastically discussed the fact that Hammonton and Vineland New Jersey had both been established by an entrepreneurial mid-nineteenth century land developer named Charles K. Landis, Agent Arthur Orsi reckoned that it was time to review the real reason for the hastily called FBI conference.
The room’s general atmosphere instantly transformed from joviality to serious individual contemplation. Naturally, Inspector Giralo presided over the session, explaining that he intended to play “two very curious” CDs that the DC Bureau and the NSA had intercepted while performing vital national terrorist surveillance. To Velardi, Orsi and Blachford, the voice pattern on the first recorded CD sounded entirely like foreign-language gibberish.
“Was that erratic message transmitted in Arabic?” Dan Blachford honestly inquired. “It sounded as if it’s emblematic of some Middle Eastern dialect.”
“Actually Dan,” Chief Giralo clarified before orating one of his typical elucidations, “those foreign words that your ears had just heard were spoken in Farsi, the language that’s prevalent in Iran. And so Sal,” the Inspector continued while turning his head toward Agent Velardi, “when you had quoted the lyrics ‘I Ran All The Way Home’, your’ innocent comment suddenly made my brain begin to connect some very separate-but-unique ideas.”
“In terms of the Muslim religion, aren’t the Iranians mostly Shi’ite?” Agent Orsi contributed to the conversation. “Most of Iran’s people are not Sunni, I believe!”
“Yes Arty,” Joe Giralo swiftly confirmed. “There are over 1.6 billion Muslims living on this wonderful planet, and as you’ve knowledgeably cited, they’re divided into two major-but-distinct sects: the Sunnis and the Shia. The Muslim world population is mostly Sunni, I estimate around 85% or so. And throughout history, the Sunnis have maintained economic and political power over the suffering Shi’ites, who incidentally, in our modern age, tend to be more radical, militant and belligerent toward Western Civilization than are the Sunnis.”
“Wasn’t Saddam Hussein a Sunni who had harassed and persecuted the minority Shi’ites living in certain parts of Iraq?” piped-up Dan Blachford. “Tell me’ Boss, and please refresh my memory. What Muslim countries are mostly Shia, and which ones are predominantly Sunni?”
After inhaling another very deep breath, the Chief academically expounded upon the fascinating topic introduced by Agent Blachford. Giralo indicated that Iraq was 50% Shia, Bahrain 70% and Iran, which speaks Farsi and not Arabic, was around 90% of the less dominant sect. The Boss summarized his sagacious remarks by expressing that the people of Iran were of Persian descent and therefore spoke Farsi and not Arabic like most other Sunni and Shi’ite Muslims in the Middle East.
“On the other side of the proverbial coin,” Giralo emphasized to his somewhat intrigued audience of three, “Saudi Arabia, Egypt and Pakistan are mostly Sunni. But most definitely,” emphasized the famous FBI investigator, “the language that we just heard on that CD had been spoken in Farsi, the native tongue of Iran. And going back to the 700s,” the Boss resumed his lecture, “there has always been abundant conflict and strife between the poorer Shia and the more prosperous Sunnis. Now Gentlemen, the DC Bureau’s team has taken the time and effort to translate the intercepted Farsi monologue into English using a female agent’s voice. Listen intently to the more distinguishable information provided on this second CD.”
Giralo next adroitly removed the aforementioned Farsi jargon CD from the office player and deftly inserted the easy-to-comprehend second disc, which contained the following communication.
Greetings Sister,
In the long run, the Muslim faith and Sharia law will become victorious here in America. Truthfully, I just can’t easily walk away from all of this country’s dirty laundry such as rampant prostitution, liquor, pornography and gay marriage. Americans artificially claim that life’s been good to them, but in the crowded city and also in the nearby countryside, you and I both painfully suffer from heartache tonight while regrettably witnessing all the blatant sin that evilly surrounds us.
But please remember dear sister, one of these nights, with the help of Allah, our many emotional troubles will be already gone. In the U.S., there is entirely too much intolerable life in the fast lane that must be permanently eliminated.
Take it easy until your next visit to the familiar California hotel where I will be restfully staying at the end of September.
In the Prophet’s Name,
Your devoted sister Nazila
“Well my primitive Musketeers, what rhyme or reason do you interpret from this’ rather oddball CD encryption taken from an e-mail. Personally,” the inspired Inspector qualified, “my gut instinct tells me that we’re attempting to decipher a secret message concealed inside a secret coded message. Regardless, I must admit that this strange letter is both perplexing and captivating.”
“I think I understand something solid about the phraseology,” Agent Velardi intrepidly volunteered. “The words depicted in the CD recording are all associated with hit songs produced by the country rock band, the Eagles. ‘In the Long Run’, ‘Walk Away’, ‘Dirty Laundry’, ‘Life’s Been Good’, ‘In the City’ and ‘Heartache Tonight’ are all Eagles vintage hits. And then….”
Agent Orsi felt motivated to pursue and extend Agent Velardi’s astute trend of thought. “And Fellas’,” the now-excited participant anxiously enunciated, “the songs ‘One of These Nights’, ‘Already Gone’, ‘Life In the Fast Lane’, ‘Take It Easy’ and ‘Hotel California all remarkably complete the fairly imaginative riddle.”
“Good articulation Arty!” congratulated and alliterated Chief Giralo. “Now Dan, exert your crime-solving cerebrum and associate the rock band Eagles with the skein of beauty pageant and cosmetology school explosions that’ve recently threatened the stability of our nation’s urban life.”
“It all makes perfect rational sense now, that is, from a wanton criminal’s mindset, one that’s been egregiously influenced by a totally warped perspective,” Agent Blachford profoundly prefaced. “According to the chronology of events starting in March of this year, there have been beauty contestant kidnappings in Eugene, Oregon, in Atlanta, Georgia, in Galveston, Texas along with a litany of beauty school explosions in Little Rock, Arkansas, in El Paso, Texas and in Seattle, Washington. Obviously,” ‘Dandy Dan’ conjectured and clarified, “if you take the first letter from each of those already mentioned six American cities, you’ve deliberately spelled-out the rock band….”
“E-A-G-L-E-S!” marveled and orally concluded Agent Orsi. “The guys and gals down in DC have really organized a superb acquisition of current lethal terrorist activity. I wouldn’t be surprised if the captured beauty queen contestants have already been transported to somewhere in the Middle East and have been wickedly sold into slavery or prostitution.”
“I gotta’ admit, I’m now a true believer in coincidences,” Agent Velardi sincerely confessed. “I’m a Philadelphia Eagles season ticket holder. In fact, my wife and I can’t wait to attend the first home game at Lincoln Financial Field against the Cowboys on Sunday, September 20th.”
“And ironically, Carol and I have purchased tickets to see the play ‘Footloose’ at the Eagle Theater on Vine Street in downtown Hammonton,” Art Orsi related in a hoarse tone of voice. “The movie was quite excellent and I’m sure the recently produced play will be outstanding too! As you guys very well know,” Orsi garrulously elaborated during his impromptu speech, “the Eagle is no longer a commonplace community theater. It’s now evolved into an equity theater attracting professional singers and actors, and the town government is donating a considerable sum of money to finance the very positive upgrade.”
“And let’s not forget the amazing parallel existing between Iran and the catchy lyrics ‘I Ran All the Way Home’,” Sal Velardi vociferated to his almost-mesmerized colleagues. “Now Boss, back onto the subject at hand, what do you have to say about all of these absolutely mind-boggling, correlative terroristic circumstances?”
“I say that this Saturday you men should come over to my house at noon for some cold beer and a few grilled hot dogs and burgers,” Chief Giralo generously invited his law-enforcement disciples. “We’ll enjoy an early old-fashioned backyard Labor Day weekend! I want to show you boys some treasured photos’ of my dependable white 1974 Chevy Impala that I faithfully used to commute back and forth between Hammonton and Glassboro State College.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
On Saturday, September 5th the on-a-mission foursome gathered at Inspector Giralo’s 321 Orchard Street residence for a special high-caloried hot dog and hamburger Labor Day weekend feast. Wife Gina and the Chief’s two daughters were staying the holiday at the family Ocean City, New Jersey beach house, and the Inspector’s wife was planning to do some essential “late minute” back-to-school shoes’ shopping for her two daughters at the convenient and newly renovated Hamilton Mall on Route 322 in Mays Landing.
“Fellas’,” Joe Giralo addressed his three-person staff, “before we indulge in our culinary barbecue delight, I must relate to you how I had once toured a hot dog and sausage processing plant up in North ‘Philly, and believe me,” the Boss energetically chuckled, “when I tell you about certain graphic facts, you’ll then fully understand exactly how those greasy junk foods are produced. I predict that you would never eat another delicious frankfurter, even if you humbly lived in Frankfurt, Germany!”
“I suppose the same holds true of delectable hamburgers eaten by residents of Hamburg, Germany!” Agent Orsi glibly suggested.
“Not to forget baloney consumers occupying stone dwellings in Bologna, Italy!” Agent Blachford uttered and prolifically laughed. “You don’t suppose that everyone living there is full of baloney, do you? Ha, ha, ha!”
“I’m an occasional vegetarian,” commented Agent Velardi with a contrived straight face, “so let’s also include Limburger cheese savored by the inhabitants of Limburg, Belgium!”
“Enough of your prodigious slapstick food etymologies,” Chief Giralo criticized. “Before I fire-up my new grill, I want to play for the benefit of you three geniuses a new set of CDs I’ve recorded early this morning from a classified Top Secret Voice Dispatch sent from Matt Riley at DC headquarters!”
Inspector Giralo next escorted his three G-men from his screened-in back porch and into his library/study, and after the astonished agents were seated in their respective red leather chairs, the unpredictable Boss inserted the new disc into the player’s narrow slot. “I’ll politely skip the unfathomable Farsi version and instead, I’ll play for you the second translated CD rendition narrated in English by the same female FBI employee!”
Dear Sister,
All night long I’ve been thinking, ‘I’m not a problem child doing dirty deeds on a highway to hell like most Americans are.’ I’ve concluded that the United States is certainly an evil dog eat dog country consisting of much lowlife and redneck riff raff.
But thanks to Allah’s inspiration, I have a dynamite idea that is rich in high voltage. I promise you Nazila, I refuse to be the jack wallowing at the low-end in this demonic playing card deck. May Allah on High be praised! Soon dear sister, you and I will be back in black living in Tehran!
In the Prophet’s name,
Nikoo
“Okay Comrade Salvatore,” Joe Giralo jested and challenged, “what happens to be your’ keen synopsis of this extraordinary, second intercepted obscure missive.”
“This task you’ve assigned is extremely elementary when the new data on the second English CD is referenced to that appearing on the first one we had heard,” Agent Velardi recognized and verified. “Acid rock is not my favorite type of modern music. That being said, instead of the rock group Eagles, this time around, random AC/DC songs have been utilized on the new CD. For example, I’ve recognized the titles ‘All Night Long’, ‘Problem Child’, ‘Dirty Deeds,’ as determined in the song ‘Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap’, ‘Highway to Hell’ and obviously, last but not least, ‘Dog Eat Dog’!”
“And also,” euphorically added Agent Orsi, “we have the song ‘Riff Raff’ and the direct allusion to dynamite, signaling the lyrics to ‘TNT’ as it equates to ‘High Voltage’.”
“And finally,” offered the usually pensive Agent Blachford, “the song ‘The Jack’ has been identified on the CD, but I think that the stating of ‘Back in Black’ and the subsequent terminology suggesting a dual returning to Tehran is indeed most intriguing, of course the unscrupulous perpetrators desiring to wear black apparel while living and being reunited as devout Muslim women in the Iranian capital!”
“But of what importance does the group AC/DC have to do with this overall beauty pageant scenario?” the beleaguered Chief asked his alert agents. “The previous nomenclature ‘Eagles’ had quite apparently spelled-out the earmarked cities that had had either beauty contest queens kidnapped or had had cosmetology schools attacked with dynamite. In this case,” Giralo asserted, “we already know the letters AC/DC but we don’t know which isolated cities the four given letters connect with!”
“Perhaps it’s not four cities but only two,” speculated and verbalized Agent Velardi. “Here’s my hypothesis! AC could pertain to Atlantic City, and DC most probably could be the District of Columbia.”
“Holy Holocausts!” yelled Agent Orsi. “This problem must be addressed immediately! The Miss America Pageant is only a week away, Sunday night, September 14th at Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City.”
“And this year’s Miss New Jersey is from Hammonton,” Agent Orsi reminded his associates. “And my wife and her cousin have tickets to attend the event on September 14th! Their lives will be in jeopardy if we don’t act quickly!”
“Chief, for Arty’s sake we must act expeditiously!” Agent Blachford demanded with beads of sweat accumulating upon his forehead. “The 2015 Miss America Contest could end in a devastating disaster, one turned into a colossal national TV tragedy.”
“This is no sinister hoax we’re presently evaluating!” Chief Giralo concurred. “It’s an existential threat to Boardwalk Hall and to all of the thousands in attendance! We only have seven days to crack this mystery open and save a multitude of innocent loves.”
“Suddenly, because of this imminent danger, I’ve lost my appetite for grilled hot dogs and hamburgers!” Arthur Orsi exclaimed, exhibiting palpable emotional anguish. “Violent crime seems much more overwhelming, much more realistic and much more personal when it hits so close to home!”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
On Sunday morning, Inspector Giralo got on the horn and in three separate calls, commanding his sleepy-eyed agents to meet him for lunch at Rocco’s Town House, a popular restaurant located at the corner of Third Street and Orchard. “I’ve already contacted Dave Ruberton about a private eating area where we can confidentially discuss this aggravating Miss America scenario,” the worried Chief individually informed his crime-fighting confederates. “Dave will be off-duty tomorrow but his younger brother Steve will gladly accommodate us. In the last twenty-four hours Matt Riley and I have assiduously excavated some rather pertinent data concerning the two Iranian ladies and their onerous subversive schemes. I’ll share all of this new evidence tomorrow at noon. I even promise to buy the three of you a round of beers during our little Town House symposium!”
Amiable Steve Ruberton greeted the four federal crusaders at the establishment’s oval bar and then led the quartet into the side patio room that featured a greenhouse-type semi-circular glass roof. After being served BLT sandwich and French fry platters along with frosted mugs of cold light beer, Joe Giralo began deluging his now-awake listeners with his inimitable rhetoric.
“Matt Riley’s crackerjack FBI terror-watch squad has acquired some very revealing information from the NSA. The newly obtained details have cracked this diabolical Farsi CD e-mail investigation wide open. Where do you men wish for me to begin?”
“First tell us some basic background on Nazila and Nikoo?” Sal Velardi requested.
“The biggest mistake the girls had made was thinking that they could disguise their identities by simply using Farsi to exchange e-mails. By not using false names or pseudonyms, Nazila and Nikoo were relatively easy for the FBI to research because the dastardly duo has been too audacious and too overconfident in their pursuit of revenge against our American way of life,” Giralo declared. “The Iranian name Nazila ironically means ‘cute and charming’, and by the same token,” the fully-prepared Chief continued his very thorough exposition, “Nikoo coincidentally means ‘beautiful and good’ in Farsi. Both females have been under FBI and NSA scrutiny for several years now. Nazila and Nikoo were raised by their immigrant Muslim parents in Melbourne, Florida. Nazila and Nikoo Kalani were born identical twins and in their teens, each had won numerous beauty contests while competing in the Sunshine State.”
“Well then,” Agent Orsi wondered and asked his self-confident Boss, “what major event had occurred that turned the two girls into avowed beauty queen kidnappers and formidable cosmetology academy anarchists?”
In response, Chief Giralo related that in 1999 both Nazila and Nikoo had been severely afflicted with first and second degree burns all over their bodies during an early morning family house fire. “The Kalani girls’ former beautiful faces were terribly deformed from their ghastly life-changing ordeal, and not even advanced plastic surgery performed in the finest hospitals could ever repair their grotesquely disfigured noses, ears and lips.”
“Now I get the big picture!” Dan Blachford blurted. “Because of their new-found ugliness resulting from the home inferno, the Kalani twins eventually became radicalized. Nazila and Nikoo became disenchanted with American culture and with Western standards of beauty. Soon the disgruntled twins abandoned Western values and then seeking social support, regressed into their Iranian jihadi roots!”
“And the Iranian girls probably want to sabotage the upcoming Miss America Pageant on September 13th at Boardwalk Hall!” Sal Velardi instantly verified. “Boss, what else can you divulge about this insidious plot that could evolve into a gruesome catastrophe?”
“Our sophisticated intelligence corps along with our very competent international reconnaissance units have learned that Nazila and Nikoo have recently chartered two large fishing boats out of Gardner’s Basin, situated in the inlet section of Atlantic City, not too far from Harrahs Casino,” Giralo communicated. “We’re now monitoring the transportation of two small guided missiles being shipped from Saddle Brook, New Jersey down to AC via several rental trucks. And their malicious plan is to…”
“Shoot the missiles from the Atlantic Ocean directly across the beach into Boardwalk Hall and in the process kill as many beauty contest people as possible,” Art Orsi deduced and gasped. “Bert Parks is probably spinning-around inside his cemetery grave as we speak. And I dread the hideous thought that my wife and her cousin would be among the random innocent victims!”
“What makes you think that Atlantic City will be hit before Washington DC?” Dan Blachford intelligently interrogated his erudite superior. “Explain that specific time-line factor to me.”
“Because of our department’s fastidious homing-in on Farsi chatter being conveyed in coded symbols via selective jihadi e-mail correspondence,” Inspector Giralo disclosed. “Thank goodness we were able to get a federal judge’s search warrant issued on the Kalani twins. And besides Dan,” the Boss resumed his plausible explanation, “the FBI, in conjunction with the Pentagon and the military, has the three largest DC cosmetology schools under tight security in strict regard to unusual pedestrian activity and irregular human behavior.”
In his slick summary, Inspector Giralo next shared that after firing the lethal rockets from the Atlantic into the Boardwalk Hall event, the pair would navigate their respective fishing boats twenty-five miles out into the ocean where their crafts would rendezvous with an awaiting Iranian submarine in international waters. The two crazed saboteurs would next climb aboard and the sub’ would quickly descend into the depths, leaving the two abandoned chartered boats bouncing-around upon the night ocean waves.
“Is your old pal Colonel Bob Bauers participating in the capture of the Kalani twins?” Sal Velardi shrewdly asked. “I’d like to witness his expert commandos in action!”
“Yes Salvatore,” the clever Inspector affirmatively replied. “A Delta Force attack unit will board the two Gardner Basin boats and systematically apprehend Nazila and Nikoo along with any of their demented criminal henchmen. And the two guided missiles will be confiscated and meticulously dismantled before the destructive objects can cause any harm, injury or structural damage. Two well-equipped Coast Guard ships out of Cape May will be obstructing the entrance into the Gardner Marina while Delta Force is courageously conducting its stealthy raid. Any hasty escape will be impossible!”
“And Chief, what about the Iranian submarine brazenly stationed there in deep water off the Jersey Coast?” Blachford demanded knowing. “Will it be part of an international incident?”
“The sub’ will be blasted out of the Atlantic if it violates our sovereignty by encroaching into the twenty-five mile international waters’ boundary. Otherwise Dan, in the reality realm, the lurking Iranian sub’ will not be able to meet and pick-up the already-captured Kalani twins, and everything will return to business as usual without any serious military consequences or any secondary repercussions ever occurring. And now Gentlemen,” Inspector Giralo artfully announced, “the best part’ of this fabulous chronicle is that Colonel Bob has personally invited the four of us to observe and appreciate the entire clandestine commando operation from beginning to end.”
“Life is full of incredible coincidences as has been glaringly proven in this particular case,” Agent Velardi comprehended and professed. “As another example of precisely what I mean, one of my favorite rock concert DVDs is the phenomenal Eagles Farewell 1 Tour performed and filmed in Melbourne, Australia!”
Jay Dubya
Google: Jay Dubya Books
Other FBI Inspector Joe Giralo stories are in the Jay Dubya hardcover/paperback/e-books Prime-Time Crime Time, The Psychic Dimension and The Psychic Dimension, Part II.
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Was it, "Beauty in the Least," or, "Beauty and the Least?" The title doesn't seem to match the story very well. And the story… Well, everything became too down pat in the end with a coordinated military effort somehow requiring the Three Musketeers to do very little except watch.
Ron