Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we bring education to national security. This is the tenth in a series of podcasts focused on a single terrorist incident - the December 2, 2015, husband and wife mass murder of health inspectors in San Bernardino, California. This episode concludes the story with a Bonnie-and-Clyde-style shootout in the streets of San Bernardino. This ends the series – The Killing Floor.

“Thelma and Louise”

            While friends and loved ones frantically searched hospitals and clinics for information, law enforcement officers scoured the streets for a black rental Explorer with Utah plates. Federal and local authorities are now looking for suspects who were driving through the nearby cities of San Bernardino and Redlands. There was a time they vanished from surveillance and records. After the rampage, the couple visited a local lake at 11:45 a.m. and then appeared to zig-zag across the area.

            The assailants kept geographically close to San Bernardino and Redlands in what appeared to be aimless circling with intermittent stops. Several people noticed a black SUV with Utah license plates and called the police. Detectives spotted Farook and Malik driving toward Redlands and followed them.

            A Redlands Police Department squad car signaled to Farook to pull over, but he did not come to a complete stop. Nick Koahou, a narcotics officer with the San Bernardino Police Department, thought to himself, “They're not gonna stop; they're gonna shoot it out with us,” and he was right. Suddenly, Farook’s rear window shattered as he fired his weapon toward the police. Koahou exited his vehicle, approached Farook, and went prone at seventy yards from Farook’s SUV. Armed with an AR-15 and years of experience as military police in the Marines, Koahou returned fire, causing Farook to stumble and fall. Koahou kept firing. At the same time, San Bernardino Police Sgt. Ryan Schuelke fired at Farook with his rifle. Sgt. Schuelke used the red dot sight on his weapon to aim as accurately as possible at Farook, mindful that they were in a residential neighborhood with people likely in the surrounding homes. Sgt. Schuelke fired five or six shots at Farook’s chest. One round went through Farook’s torso, creating a mist of blood upon impact. Several armored vehicles responded to the scene.

More than 175 law enforcement officers from various local, county, state, and federal agencies had arrived by the time of the exchange. Altogether, 24 officers fired at least 440 rounds at the vehicle. Riddled with bullets and collapsed on the ground, Farook lay lifeless. But his wife began to fire blindly in short bursts from the SUV’s window. Police at the scene used every gun in their arsenal, including a Mini-14, a shotgun, and a handgun. The barrage of gunfire eventually stopped her attack after thirteen bullets hit her body and two bullets struck her head. Farook and Malik had fired at least eighty-one shots at the police. The killers were now dead. But Koahou felt like someone had punched him hard in the thigh. He had been shot, and as his adrenaline waned, he began to limp. The shootout was a frightening experience for nearby neighbors who watched in confused horror.

 Middle-aged Billy Sirk was trimming a tree in front of his house when gunfire erupted nearby. Seeing Malik shooting at the police, he dropped from the ladder to take cover inside his home. Teenager Mahir Rahman saw his house on TV and immediately realized that the suspects were being chased across the street. He protected his mother by hiding with her in a room until the gunfire stopped. “It felt timeless. It felt like an eternity.” Nearby, local resident Michael was inside a liquor store when police prevented him from leaving. Less than two blocks from the shootout, he heard police sirens passing by the store. Shocked, he looked out the door only to be told by an officer that he had to stay inside because shooters were still at large. Michael later said, "I heard later that day that it was like in that movie... you know, Thelma and Louise. They just went down shooting." The San Bernardino District Attorney's report stated that at least twenty-seven rounds hit Farook, while his wife was struck by fifteen. Ghost Town During the afternoon of the shooting, county leaders shut down all non-essential public services, including schools. For several hours afterward, officials closed many stores and public places and blocked off streets.

Residents had never experienced anything like this before and did not understand what was happening. A journalist described the scene as a police state, and others spoke of desolation. Soon after the shooting, armored police vehicles rolled through downtown streets, some of which were empty of pedestrians. One observer said, “It’s like a ghost town right now.” Redlands also went into lockdown. Farook’s neighbor, “Squeaky,” recalls that afternoon as law enforcement took control of the block where he and the Farook family lived. The sixty-four-year-old, grumpy construction worker, peeked out his window when a team of officers arrived at the perpetrators' home. Squeaky lives seven houses up the block and casually knew Farook and his mother. “I used to wave at her (the mother), and the boy (Sayeed) seemed like a regular kid. He was brought up right.”

Thank you for listening to this series of The Killing Floor. If you enjoyed it, please Consider subscribing to hear more podcasts from Jihad and the World. If any listener has firsthand knowledge of the San Bernardino attack, please contact us. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting. 

           Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we bring education to national security. The podcast series is called The Killing Floor. This is the episode where the killing continues as blood pours, seemingly without pause, onto the killing floor.

Phones from the Injured

            Twenty-four-year-old Kevin Ortiz was taken to the hospital with three bullets—two in his legs and one in his shoulder. Despite his injuries, he called his new bride to profess his love and reassure her that he would survive and return to her. He also contacted his father to promise he would not lose his son. "I'm in pain. Don't worry. There's a policeman with me." Shortly after, the call dropped. Meanwhile, Garrett Lacroix called his father as shots were fired, and panic spread through the center. The fire alarm sounded, and he feared there might be bombs. Terry Petit was worried about his daughter. Then she texted him: “People shot. In the office, waiting for cops. Pray for us. I am locked in the office." The father responded with a text: "Hide. Find a good spot. Hide now." She did exactly that.

            Co-worker Anies Kondoker was walking down a hall when she was hit by three bullets in her arm and stomach. She never saw the shooters and didn't know where the bullets came from. Party-goer Anies Kondoker attended the same mosque as Farook. Both were practicing Muslims, but that didn't protect her from his bullets, which hit her in the stomach and arm. Now injured, she crawled to a bathroom with the help of a coworker who shouted, “There’s a shooter!” Bleeding from several wounds, Kondoker took cover in a bathroom and crouched beside Sally Cardinale—a moment forever etched in her memory. The shocked expressions on the faces of the wounded haunt Cardinale. Their contorted faces capture the exact moment they realized they had been shot and might die.

            Then came screams and prayers in Spanish and English, pleading for God's mercy and for help for the trapped and injured. In the bathroom, bullets slammed into a wall near her, and a cleaning lady yelled in Spanish. Cardinale snapped, “Shut up. You’re gonna draw them here.” The gunfire stopped. Case manager Jamile Navarro whispered that she was hiding in a locked room. “I said, ‘All right, I’ll be there, turn off the lights, don’t make a sound,'” Navarro said. “And that was it.” Her daughter survived. The pair reports that Ortiz was able to make two calls from inside the Inland Regional Center, where the shooting occurred, after he had been shot.

            From her office in a building next to the Center, Sandra Wood heard twenty-five to thirty bursts of automatic gunfire. "You could tell the person stopped and reloaded and started again," Wood moved away from the windows and called 911, explaining that there were several dozen people next door and that she feared for their lives. As interim director of the Center, she put her school on lockdown.

            Julie Swann-Paez and lead environmental health specialist Hal Houser were standing for a group photo near a Christmas tree. Houser heard what he thought was a nail gun outside. In reality, he heard the gunfire from the Center’s job coach, Daniel Kaufman, and Isaac Amanios. It was a proud day for Swann-Paez as she was awarded a prestigious honor for her year’s work. Now, she was lying on the floor in pain after being hit in the pelvis. But after a moment, she texted her family, “Love you guys.” It was 11:20. She took a picture of her face as she lay on the floor and sent it to them. But it would not be a goodbye message. Curled up on the ground, she thought, Please, please – just be quiet. Eyes closed, she hoped he wouldn’t come over to this corner of the room again. Her friends and co-workers were dying around her. Benneta Betbadal, who would die that day. The Iranian woman, who came to America at age eighteen to escape religious persecution, died from a gunshot wound to the abdomen. She had also been hit in the legs and chest.

            Olivia Navarro received her first call at 11:00 from her daughter, Jamille, a case manager at a large facility that provides services to people with disabilities across the region. “It was one hour until I learnt my daughter was OK,” she said. A text message finally arrived, informing her that her daughter was among those evacuated to safety at a nearby golf course.

            Facing the back of the conference room as gunfire erupted, she texted what she believed might be her final words to her family: “Love you guys. Was shot.” That message haunts her. Houser heard five or six loud bangs outside—what sounded like a nail gun to him, but were actually the sounds of coworkers being killed. After hearing gunshots inside, Houser assessed the situation. “He ran out of bullets and I said, ‘Go,’” Houser recalled. He first moved into a small storage room already filled with two hiding coworkers. As Houser headed out another door, he saw the other side door open, and a shorter person dressed in black entered and began firing.

            Houser ran to a nearby room where 20 others were hiding. There was no way out. Some coworkers hid inside cabinets and under Kaufman’s coffee cart. Houser, Vector Control Program Manager Jason Phillippe, and Public Health Assistant Director Corwin Porter held the doors shut. Minutes later, rescuers led by San Bernardino police Lt. Mike Madden entered and signaled the group to escape to the next building while police searched for the attackers. Two officers, ready with guns, guarded the survivors in another room for 10 to 15 minutes until the building was cleared and they were escorted to the San Bernardino Golf Club across the street.

            Like others nearby, Salihin Kondok dove to the ground when the shooting started. She initially didn't realize she had been shot in the stomach, and she was also hit in both arms. "Bullets were flying all over the place," she remembered. Crawling into a bathroom, she realized she had been shot but didn't know how badly. Elsewhere in the center, hundreds of employees barricaded themselves in offices. Melinda Rivas, a social worker, helped others by stacking furniture inside a conference room and against the door. “I had no idea if I was going to get out alive,”

            After she sustained shrapnel wounds to her head, Amanda Gaspard collapsed while sheltering under a table. She closed her eyes and stayed still. One of the attackers stood over her and shot her in the arm and leg. Then another shooter passed by and shot her again. “They stood over her and could have easily shot her in the head, but we are so grateful to God that they shot her in the leg and arm.” Gina Kuruppu hid at the first sounds of gunfire and screams. She prayed while texting her mom, her niece, and her sister. “Gina, stay low,” her mother replied. “I love you.”

            Twenty-four-year-old Kevin Ortiz was taken to the hospital with three gunshot wounds: two in his legs and one in his shoulder. Despite this, he called his new bride to tell her he loved her and to reassure her he would survive and come back to her. He also called his father and promised he wouldn't lose his son. "I'm in pain. Don't worry. There's a policeman with me." Shortly after, the call dropped. Garrett Lacroix called his father as gunfire erupted, and panic spread through the Center. The fire alarm sounded, and he feared there might be bombs.

             Denise Peraza struggled to call her sister from the conference room. She had been shot in the back and crawled under a table for cover. "I remember it being quiet, and me just trying to control my breathing so that if they were still there, they would think I was dead." Trying to hold back her tears, Peraza called her sister and told her she was shot in the lower back. She said, “I just want to tell you that I love you,” and then she had to go, hanging up quickly.

            But Peraza was not alone. Shannon Johnson held her and reassured her, “I got you.” Peraza, hiding under a desk, was struck in the lower back. Peraza later described how Johnson kept his "left arm wrapped around me, holding me as close as possible next to him behind that chair," Peraza said. "I believe I am still here today because of this amazing man. This selfless individual who always brought a smile to everyone’s face in the office with his lively stories about his hometown back in Georgia... my friend, my hero."

         Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. If you enjoyed it, please consider subscribing. If you have any firsthand knowledge of this attack, please contact us. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting.

Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we bring education to national security. The podcast series is called The Killing Floor. This is the episode in which the family and a friend plan to kill non-believers at a party.

Practicing and Preparing

            Both husband and wife carried 9mm pistols during the attack. Malik used the Llama Model X!-B, which gun enthusiasts describe as solid and well-priced. Farook’s sidearm was a Springfield Armory XDM 9mm with a stainless slide. As the holiday party approached, the couple practiced firing their weapons at local ranges. Instructors at Riverside Magnum Gun Range remember the two and were not impressed with their marksmanship. After the attack, one instructor was devastated to learn he had given shooting advice to the pair. A spokesman for Magnum Range remembers that nothing about Farook stood out. “He seemed so calm.” On a video surveillance film, he was smiling, joking, and firing at silhouette targets. The spokesman asked and answered, “Could we have done anything different? I don’t think so.”

            The couple dry-fired their weapons in their backyard to prepare for the party and assembled pipe bombs, which are improvised explosive devices often used by terrorists. Like grenades, pipe bombs release shrapnel in all directions when they explode. The Irish Republican Army used them, as did Eric Rudolph in the 1996 Summer Olympics bombing in Atlanta, Georgia, which killed two people. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold of Columbine High School fame had also experimented with pipe bombs. Farook and Malik did not use the bombs they made. However, after the attack, police found nineteen pipes in the couple’s home in Redlands. They also bought GoPro cameras to attach to their body armor before starting their jihad massacre. Likely, they, like other jihad attackers before them, wanted to inspire the faithful with scenes of bloodshed. Their martyrdom would be remembered forever, and they believed they would enter heaven.

            They then went to the garage, which held what the FBI called a “bomb factory” and arsenal. Over 4,000 rounds of ammunition, a dozen pipe bombs, and numerous weapons and explosive components were later discovered there.

A To-do List

            They prepared thoroughly for the attack. Farook took out a bank loan of $28,500 in November 2015. He gave half of the money to his mother and spent the rest on household goods. He probably had no intention of repaying it because he and his wife planned to die on the day of the attack. Farook and Malik planned the incident in detail. Mapping out the attack route, Farook drew the venue’s conference room, tables, chairs, and podium, as well as the entrances and exits. His notes included terms like “cover fire” and “suppressive fire.” On November 25, he scribbled to himself, “Transfer $5,000," referring to moving money to his mother’s account. Later that day, he wrote, “2 cars, 3 (unintelligible)” and “10 elbow, 20 caps,” which were pipe elbows and end caps. On November 27 and 28, he was to practice shooting and buy “the rest of the materials.” The next day, he reminded himself to “destroy all electronics," meaning computers and cell phones. On December 1, he wrote “delete email accounts.” On December 2, the husband and wife were ready. They left their child with Farook’s mother, Rafia, and drove to the party armed and prepared to kill.

Where is Sayed?

            Situated near the Sizzler and IHOP restaurants, the venue was the Inland Regional Center. It is a large complex of buildings on Waterman Avenue in an area undergoing some industrial gentrification. New office buildings have appeared in the weed-filled, empty lots and among abandoned homes. Its name is “Serving Individuals with Developmental Disabilities in San Bernardino and Riverside Counties.” Its stated goal is to assist Inland Empire residents with developmental disabilities, such as intellectual disabilities, autism, cerebral palsy, and epilepsy. The county rents out the Center’s facilities for professional and social events, some of which are listed and publicly accessible on its calendar.

                In the 1960s, parents of children with disabilities in San Bernardino collaborated with county leaders to establish a facility for local residents with disabilities. Today, the center employs hundreds of staff members, including counselors, therapists, case managers, social workers, and others. Currently, nearly 670 Inland Regional Center employees serve over 30,200 people with developmental disabilities and their families across San Bernardino and Riverside counties. The center also rents out its No. 3 building conference room for holiday parties. The latest data shows it has nearly 670 staff and over 30,000 clients. The center moved to its current location in 1996. It remains active with events like a Holiday Boutique scheduled for Thursday and a Winter Dance for those over 16.

            During the holiday season, the Center is filled with festive activities. Photographs on the Center’s website show employees of all backgrounds dressed in Christmas attire, smiling in group photos and cuddling with Santa Claus. On this day, Wednesday, December 2, 2015, the county’s Division of Environmental Health Services held a training session followed by a holiday party. Attendees placed their potluck dishes on red tablecloths. A large green Christmas tree decorated with ornaments stood in a corner, and holiday decorations hung from the walls and ceiling.

            At 8:00, attendees began settling into their seats while sipping coffee and enjoying pastries and bagels. They were scheduled to leave at 4:30. Chris Nwadike brought doughnuts. His colleagues sat around him at a folding table with a brightly colored tablecloth and a decorative fir branch. They played board games for gift cards. The roughly seventy-five workers in the room held wireless clickers to answer yes or no questions displayed on a large screen.

            Elsewhere in the Center, Daniel Kaufman, the popular manager of the Center’s coffee bar, texted his partner and prepared to open his business. Health inspector Jennifer Stevens looked forward to mingling with her new colleagues and making a good impression. The recent hire shared the party's warmth with her new colleagues. Long-time inspector Damian Meins enjoyed these holiday parties, too. Years earlier, he taught school and liked dressing as Abraham Lincoln at Halloween and Santa Claus at Christmas. A practicing Catholic, Meins loved the Christmas season.

            But not all inspectors wanted to attend the party. Some assumed it would be a repeat of the often tedious training sessions, forced conversations, and tiresome luncheons. Others were cynical about a working party and did not want to listen to lectures. Inspector Michelle Saltis considered calling in sick that day. “You know when you wake up in the morning, or you know something’s wrong, or off? That’s kinda how I felt that day.” Burly, middle-aged Shannon Johnson chuckled to twenty-something Denise Peraza that the large clock on the wall might be broken because time seemed to be moving so slowly.

            Around 8:48, Farook arrived and sat a few feet from Saltis, who remembered, “The whole time, he was kinda quiet ... he was looking at his cell phone ... And then the next thing I knew, I saw him stand up and walk away.” Inspector Patrick Baccari, who considered Farook a friend, approached him and joked, “Ready to be bored?” This was a common joke about the training part of the day. “I’m ready,” Farook replied. The usually reserved Farook was silent that day, speaking only when colleagues greeted him. Farook placed a bag on a chair and suddenly left at 10:37. Later that afternoon, police found a bomb in the bag.

            Reginna Kuruppu sat at her desk on the second floor of Building 3 at the Inland Regional Center. As a 19-year veteran of the organization that helps people with developmental disabilities such as autism and cerebral palsy, Kuruppu was finishing her pre-vacation emails and sending thank-you notes to the center’s supporters.

            Veteran employee Chris Nwadike sat next to Farook, whom he knew well as a coworker. He did not notice anything wrong with his behavior and respected Farook as a dependable worker. “He’s serious with his job . . . He doesn’t play around.” Colleagues saw Farook glance at his phone before he left, but no one was worried. Then, Farook bolted, leaving his bag on the table. They thought he would return soon to get it. It never occurred to anyone that there might be something dangerous inside.

            Bennetta Betbadal was excited about presenting a case study before lunch. She texted her husband about the day’s chores, including withdrawing money from the bank and Christmas shopping. As a practicing Roman Catholic, she loved the Christmas season. In Iran of her youth, she and other Christians quietly and cautiously celebrated in the shadows of fear. But in America, she prayed openly. Statistician Harry Bowman was preparing for his scheduled lecture at the Center. This was to be his first presentation, and he wanted it to be strong and flawless.

                The office leaders began the meeting by reviewing the year’s accomplishments and announcing plans for 2016. It was a proud moment for health inspector Julie Swann-Paez. With a big smile, she was just presented with the employee of the year award. Her supervisor, Michael Wetzel, recommended her for this honor. Wetzel was the supervising environmental specialist at the Department of Health and a father of six. 

            By mid-morning, approximately eighty attendees had gathered in one of the Center’s large rooms. They watched a training video and then moved on to a team-building exercise. More technical training in smaller groups was scheduled throughout the morning. Afterward, they would enjoy lunch. Just before 11:00, the group took an unscheduled break due to a technical issue. Some headed to the restrooms, others moved toward the food, while some remained seated, checking their phones or chatting with colleagues. Elsewhere in the Regional Center, free spirit and job coach Larry “Daniel” Kaufman left his coffee cart and stepped outside. Known for his compassion and patience, he was popular in the Center and loved by the children he helped. His empathy was likely rooted in his own challenging childhood. The division chief had just finished a talk about statistics. The county supervisor announced more hiring for the next year and then gave everyone a five-minute bathroom break. Now, it was time to have some fun.

Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. If you liked it, please consider subscribing. If you have any first-hand knowledge of this attack, please contact us. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting. 

Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we bring education to national security. Today, we begin the second in a series of podcasts focused on the terrorist killing in San Bernardino, in which a husband-and-wife pair of Islamists murdered 13 health inspectors in 2015. The podcast series is called The Killing Floor. This is the episode in which the family and a friend plan to kill non-believers at a party.

“We pledge allegiance to Khalifa abu bakr al bhaghdadi al quraishi.” Standard pledge to Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi of the Islamic State.

            In 2011 and 2012, two young residents of San Bernardino planned to kill their neighbors. Long-time friends Sayeed Farook and Enrique Marquez shared many interests common to American teenage boys, such as fixing cars, sports, and girls. But they also confided in each other about their desire to strike out at America, which they came to loathe. The lanky and shy Marquez felt emotionally empty and turned to Islam to fill a spiritual void. At age sixteen in 2007, he became a Muslim and was soon radicalized. He directed his anger towards enemies of his newly embraced religion. With Farook, he watched morbid footage of al Qaeda’s killings. Both drew inspiration from the sermons of the firebrand cleric Anwar al-Awlaki and the Al Qaeda magazine, Inspire.

            The new convert to Islam spent hours in Farook’s home listening to Awlaki’s lectures and reading Inspire magazine, the al-Qaeda publication. Other American terrorists were inspired by Awlaki. Anwar al-Awlaki, the American-born imam who had joined Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula, often pontificated about the global evil of Western imperialism or the everyday aspects of a proper Islamic lifestyle. Awlaki’s tone was measured, and his sermons were clear. He connected with many Americans because his English was unaccented.

            The charismatic preacher spoke in metaphors about life being a preparation for eternity. “This world is but a station . . .it is the Hereafter, that matters . . . We are travelling . . . We need to prepare for death.” Awlaki called for jihadists in the West to attack soft targets, particularly in the United States.

            Many Westerners drew inspiration from him, including the London Tube and bus bombers of 2005 and Major Nidal Malik Hasan, the Army psychiatrist who killed thirteen and wounded dozens at Fort Hood, Texas, in 2009. Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, the airline underwear bomber; Faisal Shahzad, the Times Square van bomber; and the Tsarnaev brothers, who carried out the Boston Marathon bombing, were all followers of the sheik. An American drone strike killed Awlaki in Yemen in 2011, but his message continues to spread on the Internet. His martyrdom status is secure, and his sermons will likely be circulated for years.

            Inspire, like much of the Islamic State’s propaganda, is directed at disaffected youth. Across a double-page photograph of a brooding young man in a dark room is a caption in verse: That issue included an article called Car Bombs Inside America, which had detailed instructions for building such a device at home. The objective was “maximum carnage” in order to “strike terror into the hearts of the enemies of Allah.”

            Marquez breezily shared his opinions on religion and politics at the local bar where he worked. The tavern has a nautical theme, and its Facebook ads invite locals with pirate slang. “Arrrrrrrr! Ahoy, me mateys! If you haven't stopped in lately, come on in!” Marquez cleaned the bar and checked IDs at the door. After a few drinks, he fell into self-pity, lamenting his obesity and lack of career direction. The bar’s owner described him as “goofy.” When drunk, he confided in regulars that he knew of Muslim sleeper cells in town ready to launch attacks. He hinted at an upcoming major assault, but patrons dismissed his words as bravado. One patron said, “We took it as a joke. When you look at the kid and talk to him, no one would take him seriously about that.” They would be proven wrong. It would be a very serious attack.

            In August 2011, Farook confided in Marquez about his interest in joining Al-Qaida in Yemen. Soon after, they scouted local targets to attack, such as Riverside City College and the 91 Freeway, using guns and explosives. Marquez purchased the two assault rifles that were used in the San Bernardino massacre.

            Farook and Marquez discussed attacking Riverside Community College’s main library or a cafeteria. They both knew the campus layout because they had taken courses there. Perhaps, they would lob pipe bombs into rooms and randomly spray fire. Alternatively, they could toss explosives from an overpass onto cars traveling on Route 91. After disabling several cars, the two would spring from the overpass and aim rounds at stunned motorists. They would then shoot first responders. Police were priority targets.

            Nothing came of these plots. But the basic plan of trapping and killing a large group of San Bernardino residents framed the December 2015 attack. Marquez was not meant to be the trigger man, but he would supply his friends with deadly weapons. This wave of murder would be a husband-and-wife operation, and it would happen at the annual Christmas party amid candy canes, eggnog, and photos with Santa Claus.

            A few of Farook’s close associates understood how deep his hatred for America, the West, and especially Israel ran. However, his coworkers had no clue that he was considering killing them. Nothing in his behavior suggested pent-up anger or any plans to commit murder. Colleagues described him as reserved. Griselda Reisinger said, “He was very quiet, I would say hi and bye, but we never engaged him in conversation. He didn’t say much at all.” Neither his neighbors nor his wife suspected that he or they would cause harm to anyone.

            According to their accounts, co-religionists at his mosque were shocked by his homicidal rage. Those who prayed with him were stunned by his killing. Both he and his wife were quiet individuals. Nizaam Ali, a student who got to know Farook after he started attending the San Bernardino mosque, remembered Farook saying his wife was fully veiled, which pleased him.

Planning – Varmint Rifles and Pipe Bombs

            “A small-caliber rifle, usually 5.56mm caliber, is used to hunt small game.” Varmint Rifle Definition

            The husband and wife carefully planned their attack in advance. There is no recorded moment when the couple decided to commit mass murder. While Farook was distant from Malik, they texted each other about martyrdom operations. As the annual office party approached, the husband and wife prepared to act, and their plan was thoroughly organized.

            Marquez legally purchased the weapons he needed. Farook selected rifles chambered for the 5.56 caliber to kill his coworkers. He obtained one for himself and one for his wife. The 5.56 round can pierce the standard protective vest worn by police officers. He chose variants of the AR-15, a highly controversial weapon. AR-15-style rifles were used in the mass shootings in Aurora, Colorado, and in Newtown, Connecticut. The twin rampages sparked a surge in sales of military-style weapons and calls for bans. Gun control advocates refer to these weapons as assault rifles, while others dispute the term. Regardless of what they are called, few doubt the devastating effects that the .223 or 5.56 mm round has on the human body.

            Much of the round’s lethal power results from its tumbling effect inside a human body. When the bullet enters a target’s torso, it tumbles in different directions, puncturing and ripping apart vital organs. This causes massive internal damage. The 5.56 remains the round of choice for Western militaries.

            The rifles the husband and wife would carry at the Christmas party were the DPMS Panther Arms A15 and a Smith & Wesson M&P15. Malik used the Panther, which weapons experts praise. The National Rifle Association bestowed it with the honor of Gun of the Week in 2013. It is a tactical precision weapon that fires a 5.56 NATO round and has a 30-round magazine capacity. In 2021, it retailed for $1,350 at many stores. Some American veterans chat nostalgically about this rifle, which reminds them of their combat experience in the Middle East. Other shooters are less complimentary, describing it as an adequate entry-level tactical weapon.

            Farook’s weapon, the Smith and Wesson, also had a capacity for thirty rounds of 5.56mm ammunition. This is the same round as the Panther. It is marketed as an easy-to-use varmint killer and target rifle that can be customized for many purposes. Farook tried but failed to modify it to fire in full auto mode to kill his coworkers more efficiently. He proved to be an inept rifle smith.

Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. If you liked it, please consider subscribing. If you have any first-hand knowledge of this attack, please contact us. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting. 

Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we bring education to national security. The podcast series is called The Killing Floor. This is the episode where the husband and wife deposit their daughter with their grandmother and attend a Christmas party to shoot at anything that moves.

Party Time

            Farook, who left abruptly about twenty minutes earlier, returned to the Center driving a rental SUV with Utah plates. He was accompanied by his wife. They exited the vehicle and approached the patio, where an environmental health inspector, sixty years old and a father of three, Issac Amanios, was sitting and enjoying his break. One or both fired, hitting him in the chest and shoulder. The bullet from the chest traveled through his muscles and into a lung, killing him. He probably had no idea what had happened. Amanios was the first to die that day. Inside the Center, several people noticed soft, staccato popping sounds outside. Fireworks? A car backfire? One person thought someone had fallen from the roof. A few recognized the distinct crackling sound as gunfire. Suddenly, a door swung open, and a masked figure, wielding an automatic rifle and dressed in all black, entered. It was Farook who turned to face coworkers standing next to a buffet table, filling their plates with bagels and pastries. A few were taking pictures for the staff. Everyone was completely surprised, and several people turned to stare as they heard the sound of breaking glass and loud banging outside the IRC’s building 3.            Without saying a word, Farook scanned the room and paused. Seconds later, another smaller figure followed him into the Center. Witnesses could not tell at the time, but it was Malik who took a firing stance and shot several partygoers standing next to the Christmas tree. Following his wife’s lead, Farook began firing indiscriminately. Someone screamed “get down” as others took cover under tables. Several froze in fear or stood stunned in confusion. Some thought it was active shooter training, which they had attended in that very room earlier. But the shrieks and cries confirmed it was a mass-casualty attack. This was not a drill. Partygoers now realized they were under fire. “Somebody is shooting! Lie down! Lie.” Some scrambled for the doors. The police received the first calls. “Five rounds heard.” It was 10:58 a.m.  Another call reported two or three black-clad assailants firing wildly. Then came more and more calls flooding in. One of the earlier calls to the police went like this.

“Operator (Female) 911.[i]

Caller (female) We have an active shooter here.

Operator: Okay, ma'am, listen to me, take a deep breath. Okay, is he still shooting?

Caller: Oh, my God.

Operator: How many rounds did he fire?

Caller: Oh, my God, a million.”

            Like her husband, Malik wore all black, and together they fired more than a hundred rounds at anyone they saw. As the chaos unfolded, a round hit a fire sprinkler pipe, causing water to burst from the ceiling. The water and smoke filling the room made it hard for people to see. The shooters moved slowly between tables, picking their targets. When someone moved or made a sound, they sometimes fired one or more shots at them.

            One of the party’s organizers, Diana Almond, saw Tashfeen cradling her weapon but did not recognize her. She was the shorter of the two and had her pants tucked into her boots. As Malik fired, the empty casings sprayed from her rifle. Almond recalled poetically, “bullet casings fell around her head like snow.” Twenty-four-year-old Kevin Ortiz remembered, “The doors opened up, and they started shooting.” One of the rounds hit Ortiz in the leg, and he took cover under the table. But one of the shooters came around and shot him several more times. Sure, he was dying, Ortiz called his father and wife Dyana, whom he married two weeks earlier. He did not die, though he took five rounds. Ortiz suffered panic attacks while recovering in the hospital, convinced an attacker would shoot him there.

            Daniel Kaufmann, who tended the Center’s coffee cart, acted immediately. Screaming “Get out! Go! Get out now! Hurry!” he opened an exterior door, grabbed people, and pushed them out to safety, likely saving four lives. But he was shot dead. Michelle Saltis panicked under the noise of gunfire. The young woman, whose gut instinct told her to call in sick that day, witnessed the mass murder. “All of a sudden, I heard gunfire . . . I looked behind me, and I saw a person standing there. And I saw him lifting the rifle up and start spraying the room right-to-left.” Saltis collapsed to the ground and pretended she was dead. “The firing went on, I don’t know how long, it seemed like forever to me,” said Saltis. And the next thing I know, the firing stopped.” Farook came by, kicked her leg, and shot again. Still alive, she prayed to God, saying she was ready to meet him if it was time, but she wanted to live. Her prayers were answered, and she survived.

Patrick Baccari, who had teased Sayeed earlier in the morning, was in the men’s room when he heard soft explosions—pop, pop, pop. As he looked around, he saw the damage from bullets ripping through the walls. What was going on? Did someone set a trap on the towel dispenser? Maybe a cruel joke. Baccari reached for a towel to dry his hands when a bullet tore through the dispenser, sending shrapnel flying across the room. An Air Force veteran, Baccari dropped to the floor and took cover. Pieces of the ceiling fell on both men, who then pushed the bathroom door closed with their legs. There were muffled screams coming from the conference room, about twenty feet down the hall. “It was like the world was ending in there,” he said. “We had no idea what it was.”

            Then, drawing on his military training, Baccari shouted to others in the men’s room, “Get down . . . secure yourself in place.” Nwadike, who was also inside when he heard gunfire, was confused and thought he smelled gunpowder. They then barricaded the door with their feet until help arrived. "That may have saved me," Baccari risked. Later, when he exited the building through the conference, the sight of water pouring from pipes and a blaring fire alarm was hauntingly surreal, much like a movie set.

            Paula Harold was standing in the conference room, waiting to pose for the group photo when she saw a man in black walk into the hall with a rifle. When the shooting started, she crawled into a nearby room and found herself trapped. She squeezed into a storage cabinet and prayed that the shooting would stop. She recalls her confusion as bullets flew. Marilyn Krichbaum dropped to the ground after a bullet grazed her stomach. Coworkers hid in other cabinets while Hal Houser, Jason Phillippe, and Corwin Porter held the doors closed. Porter recalled, " . . . we were hoping that it was an exercise that someone tried to spring, to test our readiness . . ."

            Trudy Raymundo was pouring herself a cup of coffee when she heard a noise. "I heard some pop, pop, pop sounds that sounded like fireworks going off ... you know, playing a joke." She and coworker Corwin Porter hid beneath a table when they heard the first blasts. Porter said the shooter did not appear to be firing at anybody in particular. "It looked to me like (he was) spraying the room. We were under the tables ourselves, doing what we were trained to do."

            Vietnamese-American Tin Nguyen was shot and killed. A few days before the party, the thirty-one-year-old health inspector brought a wedding dress and shared her immense joy about becoming a married woman. Today, she lies dead in the center. Later that evening, family and friends gathered to eulogize her at St. Barbara Catholic Church in Santa Ana, where she was supposed to get married. Sierra Clayborn also died that day. At twenty-seven, she was one of the youngest victims of the day. People were screaming and calling out for help. More people fell and lay sprawled on the killing floor.

Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. If you enjoyed it, please consider subscribing. If you have firsthand knowledge of this attack, please contact us. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting.

             Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that examines the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we promote education on national security. Today, we start the fourth episode in a series focused on the terrorist attack in San Bernardino, where a husband-and-wife pair of Islamists killed 13 health inspectors in 2015. The series is called The Killing Floor.

           Courtship

            Malik was raised in a small town in southern Pakistan, about 270 miles from Islamabad. The city is partly named after a saint who, according to legend, recited a passage from the Koran ten million times while standing in the Indus River. The area is filled with religious seminaries and farms. Known as a nursery for Islamist militant organizations, this heavily agricultural region has many religious seminaries. A community elder explained, “Ours is a rural area, and honor killings have taken place in a remote village.”

            As a young adult in Multan, Pakistan, she was known as the Saudi Girl because she had spent years living in Saudi Arabia and adopted a very strict dress code. As a Pakistani in Riyadh, Malik held second-class status. She found refuge in a passionate study of religion, which gave her a sense of purpose. It may have been in Saudi Arabia that she embraced radical Islam. After she returned to Pakistan, she continued to cover almost all of her face and body.

            From 2011 to 2013, Multan was filled with anti-American protests, especially against U.S. drone strikes on terrorist sites in Pakistan’s tribal areas. She saw burning effigies of American leaders and felt a strong revulsion toward American culture. This view developed long before she became a legal resident of the United States. She studied pharmacy in Multan for a time but became withdrawn and stopped attending classes. She was drawn to Al-Huda International Welfare Foundation, a deeply religious organization for women. As her religious passion grew, she asked her family to become more devout. She started dressing more conservatively. A housekeeper recalled that a year before her marriage, she began wearing a scarf that covered everything but her nose and eyes.

"She used to talk to someone in Arabic at night on the Internet,” said the relative, speaking anonymously from Malik's hometown of Karor Lal Esan, Pakistan. “None of our family members in Pakistan knows Arabic, so we do not know what she used to discuss.” Neighbors and classmates remembered her as quiet, studious, and unassuming, with her face usually veiled. “She was religious, but a very normal person as well,” a professor, Nisar Hussain, told the Los Angeles Times. “She was a very hardworking and submissive student.” Police said Malik gave a social media shoutout to ISIS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi around the time she and her husband carried out their attack. They were killed hours later in a shootout with authorities.

          A Married Couple

            After they married, they moved into a middle-class neighborhood in Riverside. Farook advanced his career as a health inspector and took online professional courses. In his free time, he visited local shooting ranges. However, religious observance remained the central focus of his life and his new bride's. His father recalled, “He would go to work, come back, go to pray, come back.

        Malik lived with Farook and his mother at 53 North Center Street. She remained an enigma, with no identifiable online or social media presence. The only known photo of her is the 2014 image taken by immigration officials. Her minimal public profile might have been typical for a devout Muslim woman or a deliberate strategy to stay under the radar and avoid attention from authorities. Three weeks after her arrival, Malik and Farook married at the Islamic Centre mosque in Riverside, 32 km southwest of Redlands. The marriage certificate allowed her to obtain a permanent resident visa. With a green card, she was in the U.S. to stay.

The wife did not want to drive. She avoided talking to men and staying near them. Even around other men in her family, she kept her face hidden. Those who knew her only superficially assumed she was a traditional, conservative wife whose main focus was on family. Her behavior matched the pattern of earlier generations of American women whose husbands were the sole breadwinners. Malik became pregnant soon after they married. The couple registered for gifts at Target for their newborn, due in May: diapers, swabs, baby wash, a car seat. Many of her friends chipped in for baby presents.

            A family attorney later stated, "There was nothing to show that she was extreme at all.” "She was a practicing Muslim, she believed in the religion, and she was just doing the five prayers a day, fasting... there was nothing to indicate she was out of the ordinary." Abuershaid mentioned that Farook's sisters "would talk to [Malik], and they would see her occasionally. But it wasn't something they did every single day or every week." Abuershaid also said there was no evidence to suggest she was responsible for radicalizing her husband. Octogenarian Doyle Miller, the couple’s landlord, reflects on Malik’s role as he surveys the damage after the FBI had smashed down the door and punched holes in the walls. “She did not like to be seen,” he says. “She did not seem to like people around here. He seemed ordinary, no worries for me at all. I’m only now thinking that maybe she wore the pants. It could be that she was behind it all.”

            Whenever Malik was caring for the baby, the attorneys said Farook would be in the garage tinkering with things, especially his car. Farook once built a shoe rack for his sister. But eventually, Syed Rizwan Farook and Tashfeen Malik started making other plans beyond their family. Relatives knew they kept two guns locked up at home. Nothing in the newlyweds' lifestyle suggested the crime they would commit in December 2015. Their simple townhouse in the quiet town of Redlands was peaceful, and no one recalls any outbursts of anger or suspicious activity from them. Their landlord seemed completely shocked by their killings. In his words, Farook and Malik appeared like model tenants.

     Items found in the house included “miniature Christmas tree lamps.” An issue of Inspire, an online al-Qa’ida magazine, contained an article titled “Designing a timed hand grenade” with instructions to make a delayed igniter using a Christmas tree lamp. The FBI found evidence that, in their last days, the couple tried to erase their electronic footprints by destroying devices. Two broken mobile phones were discovered in a trash bin near the home; Malik had what appeared to be a “burner phone”—a device used for short-term use and then discarded—on her body. In an online radio bulletin on Saturday, Islamic State claimed responsibility for the attack, praising Farook and Malik as “martyrs.” James Comey, the FBI director, said the couple showed signs of “potential inspiration by foreign terrorist organizations,” but there was no evidence they were part of a larger terror cell.

     Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. If you liked it, please consider subscribing. Also, if you have first-hand information on this attack, please contact us. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting. 

       Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we bring education to national security. This is the third in a series of podcasts focused on a single terrorist incident - the December 2, 2015, husband and wife mass murder of health inspectors in San Bernardino, California. This podcast examines the occupation, mind, and values of Syed Farook and introduces his wife, Tashfeen Malik.  

Sayeed Farook – “Religious but Modern”

                All of these health inspectors worked with Syed Farook, and none expected him to harm them. They saw Farook as a quiet yet approachable friend. “He smiled, but he didn’t laugh,” Christian Nwadike said. According to most accounts, Farook was very professional. A coworker described him as a “by-the-book” food safety inspector. He graduated from Cal State San Bernardino in 2010 with a bachelor’s degree in environmental health. Since then, he has inspected restaurants and more than 40 elementary, junior high, and high schools. Sue Ann Chapman, a cashier and waitress at China Doll Fast Food, a restaurant Farook inspected earlier this year, said he didn’t seem unusual when he arrived. “He was really quiet,” Chapman said. “He checked the food and said he was here because somebody complained... He looked completely normal.”

             His coworkers appreciated Farook’s gentle and cooperative manner. Patrick Baccari described him as sheltered and reserved but always willing to assist colleagues. He rarely discussed his wife or family. Baccari observed that he seemed “quiet and sheltered,” mostly keeping to himself and seldom talking about his wife and their new baby. "I thought I made a connection with him, talking about preparing cars and things like that. Asking some of his experiences, things like that," Baccari said. "Usually, I'd greet him, and I wouldn't get anything back. It's like you're trying to start a conversation, and it just doesn't go anywhere or develop further."

            Fellow inspector Juan Espinoza shared his interest in fixing cars and would brainstorm ways to revive nearly dead cars. Some in the office teased him about his beard, but he “usually shrugged off any jokes about this facial hair.” A few office workers understood the depth of his religiosity and anger at US foreign policy in the Middle East. A neighbor in Riverside described him as “quiet but always polite.” “Maybe two years ago (2013) he became more religious.” “He grew a beard and started to wear religious clothing—the long shirt that’s like a dress and the cap on his head.”

                He was not always very religious. Born in Illinois, Farook moved with his family to Southern California and settled in the working-class neighborhood of Riverside. The family was practicing Muslims and observed some unusual religious customs, such as slaughtering chickens and goats in their backyard. His parents’ marriage was dysfunctional. His father was often unemployed or only marginally employed and frequently physically and verbally abusive. His mother, Rafia, was involved in the local Muslim community and attended meetings at the Islamic Circle of North America. She held a clerical position at Kaiser Riverside. His mother was more religious and conservative than his father.

            His father did not regularly attend the mosque, but he adhered to Pakistani cultural traditions such as wearing the shalwar kameez. He had a degree in mechanical engineering but worked intermittently as a truck driver. The family faced financial difficulties, filed for bankruptcy in 2002, and narrowly avoided foreclosure on their house. In 2006, Rafia filed for divorce. According to her, her husband was "irresponsible, negligent, and an alcoholic.” In court, he denied these accusations but could not refute the claim that he was unable to maintain long-term, stable employment.

            Fever Dreams of Israel

            The younger Sayeed attended services and religious events at the Islamic Center of Riverside. He used to listen to my sermons and talks there. I sat up last night thinking about him and what happened (referring to the murders of December 2015).” Nizaam Ali, who knew Farook through the Islamic Center, could not recall him expressing any extremist ideology, and neither could his coworkers. However, his father was worried that his son harbored at least one dark obsession. He voiced intense hatred for Israel and wanted it erased from the map. He criticized Israel and Jews and rhetorically supported ISIS when it appeared on the international scene in 2014. As early as 2012, Farook posted radical content on Facebook. Christian Nwadike, who worked with Farook for five years, told CBS that his coworker had changed since returning from Saudi Arabia. “I think he married a terrorist,” Nwadike speculated.     

Aside from his occasional shrill rhetoric, Farook was usually calm, measured, and often polite. Responsible and studious, he worked hard to put himself through college. He studied at community colleges and earned a bachelor’s degree in environmental health science in 2010. Now holding steady employment, he began to search for a wife and turned to Muslim lonely-hearts dating services that reached singles worldwide. He described himself as coming from a "religious but modern family" whose values were an "Eastern and Western mix." Six feet tall, he enjoyed "working on vintage and modern cars" and reading about religion, and liked to "just hang out in the backyard doing target practice with younger sister and friends." He unscored his American citizenship on his posting.

            He was registered on at least three online dating sites. On ArabLounge.com, a site for Arab singles "looking for dating, friendship and love," Farook described himself as single, "Allah fearing," calm, thoughtful, and simple. "I try to live as a good Muslim," he was casting about for a young woman who shares the same outlook — one who wears a hijab but lives life to the fullest. Behavior he disapproved of included dishonesty and impulsivity, particularly buying sprees. He listed his income as $30,000 to $45,000. He posted his hobbies as working on vintage and modern cars, reading religious books, and eating out on occasion.

            People at his mosque knew him by his middle name, Rizwan. He attended prayers twice a day, often alone, and left without lingering to speak for more than a few minutes. 'He's a mosque-goer," a congregant said of Farook. "He comes to the mosque regularly. Something might have happened to him mentally, physically, or whatever that made him change." He added, "I never thought of him as someone who is violent."

            His biography attracted the attention of a young woman who was born in Pakistan and raised in Saudi Arabia, and she would later become his wife. Tashfeen Malik responded, and they began an online courtship filled with numerous emails. Their attraction was immediate. They shared a common faith and a set of values rooted in core Islamic principles. However, few understood the extent of their radical beliefs or their support for Islamic militancy. In hindsight, the FBI determined that Farook and Malik each became radicalized online as early as 2011. They were independently drawn to sermons and other materials posted online by Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula. Early in their online communication, they discussed martyrdom operations and expressed their mutual disdain for the United States.

            Malik sent at least two private messages on Facebook to a small group of Pakistani friends in 2012 and 2014, pledging her support for Islamic jihad and expressing her hope to join the fight someday. Messages showing religious extremism on her Facebook account in late 2014 alarmed her family in Pakistan. Tashfeen Malik studied pharmacology during the day and the Quran at night at a conservative religious school, or madrassa, in Multan, Pakistan. She never completed her pharmacy course but was passionate about religious studies. Their courtship resulted in a meeting in Mecca, Saudi Arabia, in October 2013. Accompanied by his mother, Farook went on his Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca, one of Islam’s Five Pillars. Malik’s parents lived in Riyadh, making it easy for her to go to Mecca. The suitor proposed to Malik the first time they met, and they got engaged.

            Farook completed a K-1 fiancée visa application to bring Malik to Riverside so they could marry the following summer. First, his bride needed to pass security checks to verify the marriage was genuine and that she did not harbor anti-American sentiments. Malik was able to answer enough questions about Farook to demonstrate that she knew him well and that they had a personal relationship, which is a main focus of the consular interview, according to two senior State Department officials. Once the visa was approved, he returned to Saudi Arabia in 2014, and the couple arrived in the United States in July.

      While filling out the government paperwork, Malik denied having any militant sympathies or intentions against the U.S. Constitution, its people, or its way of life. Malik and Farook did not raise any red flags among authorities as potential Islamic State militants. They discussed Jihad and martyrdom before marriage, but there is no evidence they publicly expressed those thoughts on social media. Former FBI director “showing signs in the communication of their joint commitment to jihad and to martyrdom.”

            The couple had two wedding ceremonies. One was in Mecca at Masjid al-Haram, which is the largest mosque in the world. Malik then waited six months for the visa to be approved, and afterward she flew to America. On August 16, 2014, the couple obtained a marriage certificate from Riverside County. Malik later applied for a lawful permanent residency visa. They then married at the Islamic Center in Riverside with a celebration for an estimated 250 to 300 people. Congregants later said they saw nothing unusual at the wedding. The event was filled with joy.

        Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. If you enjoyed it, please consider subscribing. If any listener has firsthand knowledge of the San Bernardino attack, please contact us. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting. 

Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we bring education to national security. Today, we begin the second in a series of podcasts focused on the terrorist killing in San Bernardino, in which a husband-and-wife pair of Islamists murdered 13 health inspectors in 2015. The podcast series is called The Killing Floor.

The story of San Bernardino is connected to the history of the American West. In 1810, Franciscan missionary Father Dumetz named the area around the mountains and the nearby lower desert San Bernardino. Spaniards built a mission to convert the locals to Christianity and to develop farming. As the town grew in the late nineteenth century, so did its need for rugged, hardworking men. This led to the Earp Brothers of Tombstone fame settling in San Bernardino to farm and take part in the town’s affairs.

The town started to thrive. John Steinbeck's classic novel, The Grapes of Wrath, popularized the term Mother Road for Route 66. Today, there is a Route 66 Museum. In the post-war era, Americans flocked to California, and many built new lives in San Bernardino. Richard and Maurice (Mac) McDonald opened a hamburger restaurant in 1940 on the southwest corner of 14th and E streets, near San Bernardino High School. It did brisk business and grew into the world's largest restaurant chain. Since 1998, the site has been home to the Original McDonald's Museum, dedicated to preserving the McDonald's legacy.

By the mid-1970s, Mafia families faced rival street gangs that were encroaching on their markets. The new gangs started breaking the Italian code of ethics by shooting women, children, and police. Today, Latin gangs operate in the county. In 2010, the FBI reported that San Bernardino ranked thirty-fourth in overall crime among the nation's 30,000 cities. A former resident said, “I think I would take my car and not walk (in the city of San Bernardino). There are too many drive-by shootings in that town. It is gang-infested. I moved the hell out after I got carjacked by three gang members.” Drugs are widespread, and there is a slang of code words related to trafficking. For example, a “taco” is a gram of heroin, while an “enchilada” is an ounce. The FBI considers San Bernardino a safe haven for gang members.

             Its sputtering economy became a target of sarcasm. Mayor Tom Minor snickered in confusion, “Why does San Bernardino have more homicides than larger cities? I guess we have meaner people in San Bernardino.” Police joined in the mordant humor with a fundraising T-shirt campaign. The shirt featured two vultures sitting on the San Bernardino city limits sign, with the word "population" crossed out and replaced with "diminishing." At one point, San Bernardino was the murder capital of the U.S. On a less satirical note, one resident explained, "San Bernardino is home to many who have been beat up by life. Others don't realize that they soon will be hitting rock bottom." 

Many of those who died in December 2015 were part of San Bernardino’s small group of county health inspectors. County residents enjoy safe water, uncontaminated food, and food prepared safely, along with dining facilities free of pests like vermin and cockroaches, largely because public health inspectors serve as their advocates. Many San Bernardino’s health inspectors grew up in Southern California, and some attended the local state university, California State University San Bernardino, and took degrees in health sciences. The coursework required to become a health inspector is rigorous and anchored in science. Some inspectors, such as Robert C. Adams, graduated with a degree in public health education.  Others take courses similar to those of students preparing for medicine or dentistry. Yvette A. Velasco. Juan C. Espinoza and Michael R. Wetzel graduated with degrees in biology.  Other inspectors took degrees in chemistry or environmental engineering.

Little United Nations in San Bernardino

            “No talking politics. No interoffice drama,” Amanda Adair, referring to the harmonious atmosphere in the health inspectors’ office.

             San Bernardino‘s health inspectors come from all over America and the world. One health department supervisor sometimes referred to her band of inspectors as a Little United Nations. They come from Colombia, Eritrea, India, Iran, Mexico, Vietnam, and other distant places around the world. The potpourri of ethnicities, religions, and political opinions can bring disputes. “No talking politics. No interoffice drama,” were the implicit office rules.

            Nonetheless, there were political flare-ups, and coworkers noticed the tension between two inspectors - Nicholas Thalasinos and Sayeed Farook. Nicholas Thalasinos was active in his messianic church, where he served as a Shamashim, or deacon. A prolific commentator on social media and an ardent supporter of Israel and Jews, his Facebook account featured a Star of David. He was also a social conservative and avid fan of Rush Limbaugh. Fellow parishioners described Thalasinos as a big, gentle man of faith. His widow would recall, “My husband was very outspoken about ISIS and all of these radicalized Muslims.” Farook, a devout Muslim, despised Israel, and he would pledge open support for ISIS and serve its cause. On December 2, both Zionist and anti-Zionist would die by gunfire.

Coming to the Gate City

            The Health Inspection office welcomes men and women from diverse social and educational backgrounds. Rough-hewn, burly men and intellectual social scientists work together as environmental health specialists. Big, brawny Shannon Johnson had mementos of his childhood tattooed on his skin. He had pictures of his first wife, both grandfathers, and his father, who died in a grain silo accident in Georgia when Johnson was a boy. He also had tattoos of the Virgin Mary and Vivien Leigh, who played Scarlett O’Hara. He planned to add another to his collection. This would be of his girlfriend, Mandy.

            A recent hire, the more refined and scholarly Harry Bowman was a welcome, if eclectic, fit in the office. With a doctorate in statistics, he had a promising future as a social scientist in the office.  This National Merit Scholar helped develop the Center for Risk Analysis of Terrorism Events at the University of Southern California. He, like many of his officemates, was a man of faith. He was a Renaissance man who devoured comic books, history, and Disney films.

Blacks are well represented among San Bernardino’s health inspectors, several of whom died in December 2015. At twenty-six, Aurora Godoy, was the youngest victim. Facebook captured her beaming smile as she hugged her infant son and her male love interest. Sierra Clayborn was a vibrant member of the office. On the day of her death, she was slated to receive a prestigious award for stellar service. Generations older, inspector Isaac Amanios was sixty when he fell, leaving a wife and three adult children. In the next episode, we continue to offer brief biographies on those who were murdered, and the husband and wife team did the killing on the killing floor.

Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. If you liked it, please consider subscribing. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting. 

         Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the connection between Western and Islamic cultures. The author is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, where we bring education to national security. Today, we begin a series of podcasts focused on a single terrorist incident. On December 2, 2015, a husband and wife carried out a mass murder at an office party in California. They fired together, sparking the deadliest terrorist attack in the United States since September 11, 2001. In its aftermath, fourteen Americans were killed, and twenty-two others were wounded, some crawling to safety or begging for medical help. The attack bore the hallmarks of organized terrorism. It was inspired by the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria, ISIS, and resembled shooting sprees seen in European cities. No one but the killers expected anything like it. Nothing like this had happened before in Southern California. It was the most lethal attack on American soil since September 11, 2001. Here we begin the podcasts to try to make sense of the attack and understand its implications for the future.

The location in the slaughterhouse where the stock is killed and then butchered.” -   The definition of the killing floor.         

.        San Bernardino is a tough, hard-scrabble town, but many residents are comfortable there. They are men and women of faith and family who participate in civil society, school boards, and charitable projects. They attend church, synagogue, or mosque, and their children take part in sports, scouting, choir, and other after-school activities. Local and state civil servants keep the city running, if sputtering. There are low-profile, often-uncelebrated jobs that keep the city safe and clean. One of those jobs is environmental health inspection.

       Inspectors may not be as muscular or dashing as police or firefighters, but they are professionals with extensive training and credentials who protect the public every day. Health inspectors come from diverse ethnicities and backgrounds. Immigrants with a talent for college-level science can earn degrees that prepare them for a thirty-year career with steady pay and solid benefits. Many enjoy their work and the camaraderie in the office. This was true in San Bernardino in December 2015.  

            The Party Christmas Party Massacre

             It was the annual working party, and nobody expected significant problems. As in previous years, San Bernardino’s health inspectors would review the work schedule plans for the upcoming year, hand out awards and recognition pins to top performers, and enjoy a buffet and potluck. Not everyone wanted to be there. Bored, one attendee chuckled to a coworker, "The large clock on the wall might be broken because time seemed to be moving so slowly." The more ambitious new hires saw it as an opportunity to shine in front of colleagues and supervisors. However, there were signs of underlying tension at the Center. One inspector later remarked that twenty-eight-year-old Syed Rizwan Farook, an environmental health specialist, appeared fidgety and snapped at a coworker over a perceived slight. Then, according to a partygoer, Farook suddenly left the building “out of the blue." This was unusual for the normally private but friendly professional. He returned before lunch with his wife, Tashfeen Malik, both dressed in black tactical gear.

            Pious and shy, Malik usually veiled herself when she left her home to follow her faith's rules. Outside San Bernardino’s small Muslim community, few residents had socialized with her. Still, Farook’s coworkers threw a baby shower for her the year before. They couldn’t imagine she would try to kill them at Christmas. They had no idea that, years earlier, her husband and a close friend had planned to lob pipe bombs into a college cafeteria and library and spray fire on students. Nothing came of that plan, but now, at the annual training party, Farook and his wife were ready with a large stockpile: 2,000 rounds of 9-mm handgun ammo, 2,500 .223-caliber rifle rounds, and explosive devices. Today, they came to the party to kill.

            They entered the Inland Regional Center but were not dressed for Christmas celebrations. The San Bernardino Police chief later described their outfits as “assault-style clothing,” and a coworker said they looked “like they were on a mission.” And they were. Around 11:00, they began firing randomly. They shot over one hundred .223 rounds in a rampage that killed fourteen and wounded twenty-four in less than four minutes. The first victim was shot while relaxing at a picnic table. He was talking on his cellphone, which he still held in his hand as he died. Initially, some partygoers thought an exercise was happening. Denise Peraza was completely surprised when she saw the doors fling open and two black-clad attackers with weapons start shooting. “The guys opened fire for thirty seconds, randomly, then paused to reload and began firing,” again."

            When they realized they were under attack and captivity, the targets hid in bathrooms and crouched under tables. Some broke through the back door of the Center and escaped to safety. But many could not escape the barrage of bullets, which pierced walls and tore through furniture. Lying wounded, a woman shot in the head asked someone to call her mother to say goodbye. A coworker assured her that she had just been grazed. The wounded woman replied, "I'm not. I'm bleeding from the mouth." She then closed her eyes and died. Three of the victims had come to America to escape despair and start new lives. One woman fled mullah rule in Iran when she was eighteen. A man nearing retirement emigrated from war-torn Eritrea, and another killed that day left Vietnam as a child to escape communism. America called to them as a land of opportunity. All three were shot dead on the killing floor.

       But this was also a time for heroes, and Shannon Johnson was one of them. Under attack, forty-five-year-old Johnson, a heavily tattooed, rough-looking environmental health specialist, grabbed coworker Denise Peraza and held her tightly to protect her, which he succeeded in doing. However, he could not save himself. Peraza's sister lamented, "This angel of a man was sitting next to my sister when the shooting happened. He helped protect her from the bullets, and we are so grateful for his heroic love." Larry Kaufman, the gay, warm-hearted manager of the Center’s coffee shop, warned others to leave or they would be killed. He was fatally shot. Others holed up with officers, using makeshift barricades, and texted their love to friends and families. Some prayed to God for mercy as they lay injured.

            The assailants held fire and bolted from the Center, giving momentary calm. A Christmas tree in the corner still stood, but holiday decorations lay strewn on the hall’s floor, lying next to the injured and dead. Ceiling tiles had collapsed on the floor, and victims were scattered across the 3,400-square-foot conference hall. Blood mixed with water on the floor, and the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the hall and corridors.

            The manhunt for the murderers began immediately. City officials locked down stores, office buildings, and schools. Police blocked off streets. More than 175 law enforcement officers from local, county, state, and federal agencies rushed to the scene. Now, the husband and wife were prey, and police officers engaged with them, opening fire and riddling their black vehicle with gunfire. The couple fired about eighty rifle rounds and one handgun round at the officers, who responded with 380 rounds. At least twenty-seven gunshots hit Farook, while Malik was struck by at least fifteen. Their combat clothing now soaked with blood, the husband-and-wife attackers lay dead. They were shot nearly beyond recognition, and newspaper headlines depicted images of their Bonnie-and-Clyde-style deaths.

            There were no fatalities among the first responders, but two police officers were hit by bullets. Their courage was acknowledged by two American presidents and local residents. The police response was later cited as a case study in law enforcement preparedness and competence.

            San Bernardino went into shock

                       For San Bernardino County’s core group of health specialists, the devastation on December 2 was heartbreaking. Thirteen of the fourteen victims were county employees. Immediately and openly, residents of San Bernardino mourned their loss. As one local sighed, "... nothing like this ever happened in San Bernardino. Husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, neighbors, and coworkers were killed and injured. Survivors initially felt relief at being alive, then guilt. “A lot of people are dead. Somehow I’m alive,” said Denise Peraza to her sister.

         Amid the pile of bodies on the floor lay men and women of various backgrounds—Black and white, Asian and Latino, gay and straight, young and old, single and married, ages ranging from twenty-six to sixty. One had a Ph.D., and most were college graduates, though some had less education. One had six children, while others had none. Some were born in the United States, and others abroad. Immigrants built new lives in America and raised families, only to be shot dead by a man they knew as a colleague and friend. 

     Though residents of San Bernardino were distraught, ISIS leaders were elated and praised the shooters as "martyrs." Leaders of the Islamic State saluted the two shooters as martyrs and called them "soldiers of the caliphate.” The attack came just weeks after ISIS terrorists killed 130 people across Paris in a wave of violence. But nobody in San Bernardino expected such fetishized murder in the Gateway City. The family’s lawyer mused, "It just doesn't make sense . . ." Farook had an infant daughter; he was a dependable worker; he had an extended family and showed no signs of mental illness or psychopathy.

            Many local Muslims who knew the assailants were confused and outraged by the bloodshed, fearing it would unfairly cast blame on their religion. Fellow Muslims questioned why the two had fired point-blank into a fellow Muslim they worshipped at a local mosque. However, some observers of radical Islam were not surprised that extremist hatred would flare up again in the United States. Since September 2001, numerous attacks have taken place across the country. At Fort Hood, an American soldier aimed and opened fire on fellow soldiers and civilian Army workers. The year after the San Bernardino attack, a Muslim militant targeted a nightclub in Orlando filled with people dancing, talking, and drinking. Recently, a militant armed with a knife attacked renowned and knighted author Salman Rushdie in New York because he satirized Muhammad decades earlier. All these acts of homicidal hate against the United States—shared by Sayeed and Malik—were publicly revealed on December 2, 2015.

             Life after Death

            Invisible wounds and loss haunt survivors today. When asked if he lost friends that day, survivor Patrick Baccari replied that he had - "Everybody that died." Including the murderers, Farook and Malik? Were they friends? "I assumed Sayeed (Farook) was our friend as well. The butchery was a deeply personal betrayal. Office mates celebrated the joy of welcoming their child into the world and bought them presents. But Farook and Malik died as self-proclaimed martyrs, orphaning their infant daughter, who will never have memories of her parents. 

            If the lives of some health inspectors ended on December 2, their lifelong struggles for the injured began. That day’s rifle blasts still echo in their bodies and minds. A bullet is lodged in Tracie Thompson’s thigh and likely will stay there. There is also immense torment. Hal Houser is among the many survivors living with emotional anguish. He finds some comfort in knowing that some coworkers died instantly and didn’t suffer long. But he cannot stop the recurring images of his friends and coworkers writhing on the floor of the Center, pleading to God for relief and mercy. He painfully sums up his loss: “I still miss my friends and coworkers.”

            Operations and physical therapy provide some relief from physical pain. However, psychic trauma remains unrelenting. The screams of that day still echo constantly. Said one, “We were abandoned and betrayed by a coworker, and when we asked our employer for help, many of us were abandoned and betrayed by them (the employer)." Guilt weighs on survivors who curse themselves for surviving while so many others died. By a cruel twist of fate, they walked out the door unharmed while their friends and coworkers lay riddled with bullets, dead or dying in the death chamber. The world’s attention has long since shifted from San Bernardino’s scene. One who cannot escape the panic of that day lamented, “You feel forgotten, like our friends are forgotten... We deal with it every day, but the world has moved on.” But they are not forgotten. They live on in memory, and the following podcasts tell their story.

       Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. If you liked it, please consider subscribing. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting. 

Hello from Jihad and the World – a podcast that explores the intersection of the Western and Islamic worlds. This is Mark Silinsky of Kensington Security Consulting, and today’s episode continues to examine Westerners who have trekked abroad to fight for Islam, particularly a very odd American. This is podcast two, in which we revisit the books: Jihad and the West, Black Flag over Babylon, and The Taliban – Afghanistan’s Most Lethal Group. This podcast introduces a very confused California. To start, however, let’s revisit the Australians held captive in the Syrian Roj and Al-Hol camps, which are detention camps for Islamic State or ISIS prisoners. What to do with the Western prisoners who pine to come home? Shall we bring them back or let them wither under the baking sun of Syria? We brought this up in last week’s podcast.

In our last podcast, we divided the schools of opinion into two camps. The “bring them back” side was motivated by compassion and, to some extent, by domestic and international law. The opposite camp, the “keep them away” side, based its argument on security concerns. They claimed that the children or Cubs of the Caliphate have been indoctrinated with hatred and trained to kill infidels. The West cannot afford to bring these jihadist families into its societies, as they could pose significant risks to national security. In the last podcast, we mentioned the Australian Nettleton family that traveled to Syria to join the Caliphate. The parents were killed in airstrikes, along with two sons. The remaining three children became a national cause in Australia.

Well, the repatriation of the three Nettleton children might have set a precedent. In February 2026, 11 Australian families connected to ISIS left the Roj camp in northeastern Syria and were transferred to Australia. This was good news for their friends and family, but it shocked other Australians who see the returnees as potential threats. This happens at a time when Australia is dealing with issues related to antisemitism, as seen in the mid-December Bondi Beach massacre. We at Kensington Security Consulting will keep you updated on any new developments.

Now, let's go back a few years and shift focus to Afghanistan. Let’s trace the unconventional journey of a very confused California boy, Azzam the American. He was profiled in our book The Taliban – Afghanistan’s Most Lethal Insurgent Group.

 Azzam the American

"We love nothing better than the heat of battle, the echo of explosions, and slitting the throats of the infidels." Adam Gadahn AKA Azzam the American

            His story was quite an odyssey. From goat farming and DJing heavy-metal bands in California to wandering the dusty streets of Pakistan as an al-Qaeda cadre, Adam Gadahn led a very unconventional life. We begin with his youth. His parents, Jennifer and Philip, settled near Southern California's Skinner Reservoir to shield their children from city pollutants. They adopted a rural, hippie-style counterculture. Adam’s father, Phil, became a born-again Christian. All of this probably would have surprised his grandfather, a Jewish physician married to a secular Protestant.

Life on the Gadahn family farm meant no electricity from the grid, water was supplied only occasionally, and they read the Bible often. They raised goats and made cheese. Adam was quiet, disinterested in sports, and smart. When Adam was about twelve or thirteen, he played Little League baseball, and by seventeen, he shifted to Death Metal music and eventually to Islam.

Death, Death, and More Death

            “Yesterday, London and Madrid. Tomorrow, Los Angeles and Melbourne, Allah willing. Azzam the American

            Death Metal didn't resonate with Adam. This California boy reinvented himself once again. The recluse-turned-Christian-turned-death metal fan now became a devout Muslim. In 1995, seventeen-year-old Gadahn started attending a mosque in Orange County, a traditionally conservative suburb. There are different accounts of his time there. Some say it was where he was radicalized.

In 1998, he traveled to Pakistan or Afghanistan to begin al-Qaeda training and work as a translator. There, he married, had a child, and adopted a new name, "Azzam the American." There would be no further radical changes to his identity. He was Azzam for good. As the organization's chief propagandist, he gained fame or infamy, depending on your view of al-Qaeda. In his video appeals, he wore sunglasses and a keffiyeh.

          His sermons emphasized several rhetorical themes, some of which overlapped. First, he called for confronting the enemies of Islam and the enemies of Adam. He urged Muslims to be innovative in their tactics and approaches. His primary enemy was the Zionist-Crusader alliance, broadly including America, Britain, and Israel. To oppose it, he pointed to 9/11 as a model for jihad attacks. He encouraged Muslims to demonstrate devotion "by killing or capturing people in government, industry, and the media."

            He urged American service members to find inspiration in U.S. Army Major Nidal Hassan, a psychiatrist who murdered thirteen fellow soldiers. Azzam called Nidal a pioneer and a role model. "Brother Nidal is the ideal role model for every repentant Muslim in the armies of the unbelievers and apostates." Only some people were impressed, and his rhetoric still won over fewer. Many believed his act was pompous and foolish. His speech was strained and slipped into a faux South-Asian accent. One observer compared his persona to an awkward character from The Lord of the Rings. The tone and content of his sermons were archaic and grandiose. For example, "The call has gone out. The era of jihad and resistance has dawned in all its" glory."

            Among his duties as chief propagandist was the analysis of Western media. About ABC, he wrote, "Actually, it could be one of the best channels, as far as we are concerned." MSNBC used to be "good and neutral but has declined." He did not like Fox News; however, in line with Islamic protocol, he invited leading critics of militant Islam—particularly Daniel Pipes, Michael Scheuer, Steve Emerson, and Robert Spencer—to convert to his faith. As of this writing, none have done so. He was very loud and shrill, broadcasting to international media, and he definitely got the attention he wanted. Word of his new career spread through his old goat-farming town, and his parents didn't know what to think. His dad, Phil, said his son "had got married and was settling."

"He is Indicted – The Million-Dollar Man

            His relentless cries for killing became too much for American counterintelligence professionals and the U.S. Justice Department, which indicted him for treason. The Justice Department’s Paul McNulty explained, "A charge of treason is exceptionally severe, and it is not one we bring lightly." Conviction can result in anywhere from five years in prison to the death penalty. It would have been difficult for Gadahn to successfully contest the charge. He was prolific and strident. McNulty said Gadahn's support for the "propaganda machine" of al-Qaida merited the treason charge, which he called "perhaps the most serious offense for which any person can be tried under our constitution."

Several cases of treason are historic. John Brown attempted to incite a slave revolt in West Virginia in 1959. His revolt failed, and he was hanged. Mary Surratt, who conspired to assassinate Lincoln, was hanged for treason. Ezra Pound was declared mentally ill, which prevented his trial and possibly a death sentence. Axis Sally and Tokyo Rose were convicted but not executed. After World War II, the British hanged a few Nazi collaborators, most notably William Joyce, also known as Lord Haw-Haw. The Rosenbergs were electrocuted for violating the Espionage Act of 1917, not for treason. Adam Gadahn, however, was executed for treason; he was killed along with two hostages held by Al Qaeda in January 2015. He was 36 years old. President Obama expressed regret over the deaths of the hostages but not over Gadahn's or another U.S. terrorist killed by his side.

Postmortem

What should we consider about the life and death of Adam Azzam Gadahn? He was clearly an unusual and dangerous individual. He promoted killing enemies of Islam, including Americans. Should President Obama have approved his assassination? Right after the Allies won in Europe, the British hanged very few people. The most notable was William Joyce, or Lord Ha Ha. He was an Irish-American traitor who broadcast from Berlin to Britain to try to demoralize the British. He was mainly seen as a laughingstock, providing comic relief for a nation desperate for a laugh. His nickname, Lord Ha Ha, was a pun. He used an exaggerated, affected royal accent that lengthened the “aaahs” in his speech. This is called received pronunciation. The Ha Ha plays on the onomatopoeic laugh – ha, ha, ha. So, if Joyce was just entertainment, should he have been hanged? Similarly, Adam Gadahn unintentionally appeared as a buffoon. If he didn't do serious harm to national security, should the president have killed him? It’s something worth thinking about. This is important because Westerners continue to travel abroad to embrace militant Islam, and militant Muslims are building new homes in the West.

Thank you for listening to this episode of Jihad and the World. Our latest book, Cauldron of Terror – Hamas, Israel, and the World, will be available for purchase in July 2026. This podcast does not reflect the official position of the United States government. Until next time, goodbye from Kensington Security Consulting.