Patrica Smith, mother of Sean Smith who died in Benghazi at Hillary's hands, spoke last night at the GOP convention where inside sources tell us that RNC security are afraid that Hillary Rodham Clinton, the "Butcher of Benghazi" will return to "finish the job."
"We have real, credible threats," said our source. "Anyone with any familiarity with the Clintons knows they are murderous and relentless. Their chain of bodies stretches all the way back--and they've never been caught or stopped."
"We think Hillary works on a lunar cycle," said our source. "She is an expert shot, skilled in the dismemberment of bodies, and skilled in all manner of knife fighting. She could penetrate our security, descend from the rafters on a wire, and empty the magazine of a silenced weapon before even elite security forces could react."
Clinton, a master of disguise and trained in the arts of moving silently and bypassing security systems could, our sources feared, appear anywhere, at any time.
"We've got laser-grids. We have voice-stress analyzers, facial-recognition cameras--the works--but against Hillary? None of that is sufficient. Her technique leaves no consistent pattern--other than a lack of actionable evidence.
"She crushed body-builder John Ash's throat with a weight. She defenestrated Gandy Baugh. Admiral Boorda? She penetrated his security and shot him twice in the chest--beautiful placement--two different guns."
He paused. "They ruled it a suicide, of course."
"Eric Butra--she killed with her bare hands. Beat him to death in the street. Of course Foster was a close-contact kill--but she knew him. He probably thought he was safe."
Our contact looked around nervously. "You know," he said. "I need to be going. I mean, she could be here right now. She could look like anyone. Sound like anyone. She could get all kinds of weapons--explosives--garrotes--anything in here. Those Secret Service guys--even they're scared of her. She threw a lamp at one."
He adjusted his collar. "I'm gonna go now, if that's okay with you. Please, just don't--don't print any of that. I have a family--well, I have a couple of dogs, I mean."
He looked despondent. "Please," he asked us, "make sure somebody feeds them."