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Posted on 03/13/2016 4:29:39 PM PDT by ButThreeLeftsDo
Thanks ButThreeLeftsDo.
If they didn't use this opportunity to set up a sting, then shame on Homeland Security.
There's an everywhere to every where flight operation. Normally something like live missiles would be shipped, legitimately, on non-passenger aircraft with missiles and warheads being shipped separately assuming both were in need of repair or refurbishment which is no likely. Sometimes the components would be shipped accompanied by a bonded courier who would carry any carnet paperwork, DoC CCL paperwork, or DoS licenses etc. It isn't easy to transport things that go boom from country to country - legitimately.
This looks more like some of the aid Obama sent to our "allies" the Syrian rebels is being, shall we say, re-purposed.
;)
Given the state of relations between the US and Serbia I'd say probably not. If the missiles went astray somehow Obama et al would blame the Serbs, The Russians would blame the US, Serbia would agree with the Russians and it would end up being years before I get my new NPAP. (Not that that really matters in the grand scheme of things of course...)
My guess is they were issued to Syrian rebels, now trying to be used against US.
I might be hard pressed not to shoot a guy treating horses that way.
Totally disgusting and cruel.
I pinged Drudge and it’s on there now. Not in any place of importance.
If you would like more information about what's happening in Oregon, please FReepmail me.
I lost my Oregon list when my computer crashed last year, so please send me your name by FReepmail if you want to be on this list.
Busy tourist route? lol
LOL!!!
“Would it have been possible to switch the cargo and set up a sting?”
If this started on Saturday, it might have already played out and just hasn’t been released by the FBI yet.
Probably the Black Claw for you fans of Grimm out there
Who gets Hellfires sold to them, what are hellfires launched by, and why would they be sent to Portland?
My guess is that these missiles were either sold to Israel, or part of the weapons given to Isis...err, I mean anti Assad Syrian militias. They were then either stolen in Israel, or ISIS...err, free Syrian forces decided to sell them to China.
Now, obviously the shortest route to China is not through Portland International Airport. Security is probably pretty tight on stuff getting shipped to China out of Lebanon because of Mossad, Russia, etc... But there’s a lot of Somalian folks working at PDX these days. Could the final destination have been China for them to analyze and copy our technology?
Interesting stuff, I’m sure none of us will ever know the real story.
” What is going on up there that we don’t know about?”
There are numerous Islamic “camps” in Oregon. Homes to the radical Islamic terrorists that Obama refuses to acknowledge exist.
Absolutely they should have .. what a missed opportunity.
This is a blessing from God.
A lot of countries, including Lebanon, have these missiles - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AGM-114_Hellfire#Operators
It does not seem to be a closely guarded tech when even a country like Tunisia has them.
;)
I copy a post from another forum. An analyst predicts what is going to happen next. He mostly focuses on the hero dog who found the missiles. Too good to not pass on.
Ol’ Hellfire wasn’t going after fame or fortune when he found those missiles, he was just doing his job. But fame and fortune found him. His life filled up with magazine interviews and chat show appearances; it seemed like every moment he was awake that he wasn’t on the job, he was in front of the media.
One morning he caught himself in the mirror as the groomer prepared him for yet another breakfast show appearance. Seven years old. Where had the time gone? A lot of dogs he knew had retired at his age, and here he was, still working two jobs. As much as he loved being a police dog, he wasn’t getting any younger; besides, it’s a lot harder to get injured on the job shaking hands and rolling over for a studio audience than helping restrain an armed suspect.
The media attention dried up months after he quit the force. Hellfire hadn’t exactly been responsible with his money; most of it was gone, spent on squeaky toys and leather collars, that dog food that makes its own gravy when you pour warm water on it and a dachshund with fur as black as coal at midnight, and an ass that smelled like wet garbage and lawn trimmings. And all of that was gone as soon as the money started running low.
He was eight years old, and he felt like his life was spiraling out of control. He told himself that was it, that he was getting his life back on track. No more fancy kennels, no more walks in dog parks, from now on he would sleep in his plastic injection-molded dog house and chase squirrels in the fields, like a normal dog. No more frisbees for him, he was only fetching sticks from now on. He was going back to his roots.
Time passed, and he felt great. He’d even met a spaniel; they’d settled down and had pups. Hellfire used the last little bit of his TV money, along with the royalties from a TV movie they had made about his life to open up a small corner shop. It was a modest living, but he was happy.
Time marched on. The pups grew up and left the house: Eddie had followed in his old man’s footsteps and was on the force. Daisy was on a farm somewhere in the north of France. Hellfire Jr. was seeing eye dog in Italy. And Frank, well, Frank was in obedience school for the second time. He’d always been ...special, but Hellfire was sure his boy could do anything he put his mind to.
It was two weeks after his eleventh birthday, and Hellfire was closing up shop with Maggie, the cute golden retriever that he’d hired a couple of months before. He tried not to stare - it was so wrong, she couldn’t have been more than two - but he couldn’t help himself sometimes. He didn’t know how to break it to her that he was thinking of closing the store for good. His joints ached; his fur was getting thin in places, his tooth hurt from when he bit the bumper on that coupe that looked at him funny last week, and he had enough bones buried in enough yards that he could spend the rest of his afternoons chewing.
The bells above the door chimed as two pitbulls muscled their way through the doorway. Maggie must have forgotten to lock up again. He’d seen them around the neighboorhood. Barking at strangers for no good reason, peeing on things other dogs had already peed on. Troublemakers.
“We’re closed.” he said, hoping he still carried some authority in his voice.
“We know.” said the bigger of the pair, as he locked the door behind him.
“Look now, I don’t want any trouble.” said Hellfire, as he slowly walked behind the counter.
“Then why’d you hit the silent alarm?” snarled the smaller of the two.
It was true - he had just pawed the hidden switch underneath the register. But how did they know? It didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that he had to stall until the police arrived. He still had connections; he knew they’d be here in no time. He had to stall. For Maggie’s sake.
“You’re right, I did,” said Hellfire, as he slowly positioned himself between Maggie and the pitbulls. “You should know I used to be on the force. I still have friends there, and they’ll be here any minute.”
“Look at this chump. Thinks he’s hot shit just because he was a cop back in the day.” said the bigger one, sneering.
“I’ll tell you one more time,” Hellfire said, growling. “Get. Out. Of. My. Store.”
“Or what?” the smaller one said, mockingly.
Without warning, Hellfire charged the two pitbulls. The smaller jumped back in surprise as he barreled past him into the body of the larger one. His teeth sunk into the dog’s fur as he wrestled the surprised mutt into a shelf. He turned back to the other, cast aside but not forgotten, and tackled him to the floor.
The two pits, surprised at the sudden show of strength and agility from the old police dog, struggled to their feet. Hellfire growled as he bared his teeth, his hackles raised. He could feel his heart beating, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. It felt like being back on the force again.The two pits growled back, pacing back and forth. Hellfire’s eyes darted back and forth, waiting for them to make their next move.
Suddenly in the corner of his eye, a flash of gold, then a sharp stabbing pain in his tail! He whipped his head around. “M-Maggie?” he stammered.
THUD! The air was knocked out of his lungs as two muscular bodies slammed into him, his old bones crumpling to the floor. Vice -like jaws clamped onto his neck and leg. He tried to bark, to call out, but he could only gurgle and spray hot red on the worn linoleum. His fur felt wet and warm, and it was getting harder and harder to fight back. The store started to get dimmer and dimmer. He could have sworn he left the lights on. Maybe the bulbs were going bad. He’d have to remember to change the bulbs tomorrow...
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