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Zero Light Thirty (or Twenty, Whatever)

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"Forget it," said the CIA man flatly. "The Truthers will go through ten thousand photos of bin Laden till they find the one we used."

"I said release them on a limited, official basis," The Rainmaker said patiently. "You circulate them among White House staff, perhaps to the top level of State and DoD, everyone mulling and weighing and splitting hairs and debating like real adults: to release or not to release? That is the question. Because these photos are grotesque. Gory. One of the president's staffers spent fifteen minutes in the Oval Office bathroom puking his guts out after seeing them. Now: I think we can count on these good people not to check if the pictures are just photo-shopped old photos of Osama."

"Sure. Hey, we're on board, count on it," said the State Department Intel guy.

"And at the end?" The Rainmaker asked. "As one these sensitive elites shout no. The photos are just too awful to be released. Osama with his brains hanging out one ear. Osama missing a nose. Osama with half his face blown off. Decency-in-media associations would protest if we released them. Local PTAs. The AARP. Then the Pentagon --"

"Wait a minute. Aren't you running kind of a risk there?" said the CIA man alertly. "What if the Seals shoot him in the chest? What if his face ends up intact?"

The Rainmaker sighed. "Can someone please tell the Seals that we'd like head shots only? That otherwise our op quickly turns into limburger cheese? Thank you. Now, as I was saying, the Pentagon should also weigh in: these photos would play right into the propaganda hands of our enemies. And the solemn determination is made: these photos will not come to light till well after The Second Coming."

"Well now, I don't know here," said the Marine general. You don't release any photos, sir, and you're not going to convince your grandmother. With all respect.".

Others nodded vigorously. The Rainmaker wondered if any of them had greater intellect than the chairs they sat on .

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