Benghazi White Paper
At no time did a group of terrorists huddle around a table in a sweltering coffee house getting high on expresso. No one, at any time said let’s synchronize our watches. No one said We’ll meet here a week from today at eight sharp. No one said, We’ll burn the embassy and kill all the Americans. No one raised his coffee cup and said, A toast, Death to the imperialists. Down with Qaddafi,
During the summer of 2012, the crowd milling around the American Embassy increased in size slightly. The ambassador called Washington and demanded more security. A hundred more guards would be nice. But he would settle for twenty-five. But of course, every American embassy in the world always said they needed more security.
September came and the size of the crowd seemed to be growing faster. A few men carried AK47s.
By the eighth of September the crowd was now being called a mob. It was huge. Men were milling around after the sun had set. Burning torches were everywhere adding more heat to the already oven-like conditions. There were no women. Middle Eastern men do not want their women to have any fun so they were home wondering what was going on. (there may have been a few cross-dressers and transgenders in the mob)
On the night of the eleventh of September, the mob had increased another twenty-five percent.
Also in the crowd were ten Israeli agents, each carrying an assault rifle. There were five British agents, five undercover CIA agents, three Russians, three Chinese, two members of the Tamil Tigers, one member of Peru’s Shining Path terrorist group, one member of the Irish Republican Army and one member of the Basque Separatist Organization. No group had any knowledge of the other groups.
All the ethnic groups of North Africa, the Near East and the Middle East were represented. There were Moroccans, Algerians, Tunisians, Egyptians, Arabians, Yemenis, Ethiopians, Eritreans and Sudanese. This is not counting all the ethnic groups stretching from Turkey to Indonesia.
By eight o’clock, sporadic bursts from automatic weapons was occurring every two or three minutes. The mob was restless, not knowing what to do, but wanting to do something. Everyone was yelling but no one giving instructions.
At nine o’clock, one man, instead of firing a burst at the moon, aimed his assault rifle at a window and fired a long burst.
For a second the noise stopped. It was the catalyst. Then everyone fired their rifle at the windows and charged the embassy.
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