As dusk descended on this frigid Wednesday in January of 2006, I drove three miles on an isolated, narrow, and ice-covered dirt road located on 70 heavily-wooded acres at the base of the Catskill Mountains in New York. My partner and vehicle passenger expressed his relief that the several months of covert investigation and surveillance of the Muslim encampment known as Islamberg was finally over. Before officially closing our investigation, we wanted to take a closer look at the abandoned guardhouse situated about 50 yards down a treacherous gravel and mud driveway that served as the entrance to this isolated village.
My partner saw the man dressed in all black and carrying the AK 47 first, as he rapidly approached our vehicle from the driver’s side. A second man, also dressed in all black with what looked like a semi-automatic pistol on his belt and clearly visible over his tactical vest, approached us from his side of the car. Their black clothing and loose-fitting black scarfs blended with their skin and hid their identities well. At this moment, we were about halfway between the dirt road and the guardhouse.
I immediately slammed the car into reverse but after a quick mental assessment of the situation, stopped to comply with the armed men’s shouts. With heavy foreign accents, they ordered us to put our vehicle in ...
