by P A Duncan
Anti-Semitism, racism, and now an endorsement of spousal rape. Elijah would have survived maybe five minutes with Mai, Alexei thought.
“You are Christian white men, pure in blood and noble in character. You have complete freedom in your sexual life. Because we’re at war with those who’d exterminate us, monogamy must be put aside. All white children born are legitimate children.” Elijah opened his arms wide and went to the edge of the stage. “Your duty is to father white children—boys to be warriors, girls to breed the next generation of warriors. Your wife’s duty is also clear. She is to bear white children. That is her only purpose in life. I ask you, why don’t women understand that? Perhaps one of our Patriot City sisters will enlighten us?”
A woman no more than eighteen stood, holding her sleeping infant to her chest. Though her eyes stayed on the floor, her voice was strong.
“Because the Jews have poisoned their minds with birth control and zero population growth and feminism. The Jew encourages miscegenation and diminishes our numbers by telling women to rip their living children from their wombs, their tiny hearts still beating, their little lungs striving for air.”
By the time she finished, she sobbed and had to be comforted by the women around her. Elijah smiled at her with pride. The smile switched off, and he looked at the assembly.
“We know who our enemy is,” he said, almost at a whisper. “It is the Jew lesbian feminist who encourages women to have abortions, to defy their husbands, to murder their children, and to practice perversion.”
His face stern, he looked over the trainees. “Aryan men, do you know your duty?”
“Yes!” came the unanimous shout.
“Aryan men, do you know your wife’s duty?”
“Yes!”
Elijah’s voice rose. “Are you man enough to rule your house by Yahweh’s law?”
“Yes!”
“Will you show your wayward wives your Christian authority?”
“Yes! Yes! YES!”
The “white power” chant started again, men pumping their fists in the air. Alexei’s heart beat in time with the cadence.
Elijah made a cutting motion with one arm, and the chanting stopped. “Our lord Yahshua, the only son of Yahweh, told his followers to take up the sword for him. One said, but Lord I have no sword or money to buy one. What did Yahshua tell him?”
Again, the divinity student rose. “Sell your robe if you must to buy a sword.”
“Yes! Sell your robe to buy a sword to be yielded for God. Obvious, right? Our Lord’s own words. In our Lord’s time there were no guns, only swords. Today, this…” From behind his back Elijah drew a Glock and held it over his head. “This is our sword! The one we wield for Yahweh-Yahshua. Sell your robe to buy this sword. Sell your home. Sell whatever you must to buy a sword and use that sword for our Lord. Can you do that?”
“Yes!”
“Can you do that?”
“Yes!”
“Will you do that?”
“Yes!”
“The Jew-infested government tells you to defy our lord’s word. They say public safety is more important than God’s law. Did the Lord say sell your robe and wait five days?”
“No!”
“The Jew doesn’t want the white man to defend himself, to defend his race. If you don’t do that, if you don’t stand up and defend our Lord, our race, the devil wins, like the Jew wants. Because we love our Lord, because we love our country, the Jew media says we are crazy, dangerous, cultists, religious nuts, fanatics who have to be deprogrammed, but here’s the truth of it. They do this because they can’t afford to have white people tell the truth!”
A round of applause and a standing ovation.
“If the Jew government takes our guns, if we have to wait five days for a gun, how can we protect our precious families when the government moves against us. Can we defend ourselves from a Jew-infested government if we’re on a five-day wait list?”
“No!”
“Should we wait five days for our God-given right to keep and bear arms?”
“No!”
“It is only a matter of time before white men will have to take up arms against the government on behalf of all white Americans, to restore the true America. The government is supposed to be of the people, by the people, for the people. Not of the Jew, by the Jew, for the Jew. The Jew wants the devil to hold sway, wants a world government led by the Jew. We know what that will mean. The white race forced to subject itself to the dark peoples of the world. Now, what is the tool the Jew uses for their one world order?”
Someone yelled, “The fucking United Nations!”
“Amen! Look how it grows in influence, poking its stinking Jew nose into every country, telling the mud peoples they have the same rights as the white race. The United Nations has concentration camps in this country, ready to be filled with white, Christian men. I’ve seen the pictures. And you know who will be sent there?”
Elijah pointed to a man in the audience. “You.” He singled out another. “You.”
The man stood. “No, sir. Not me!”
“Amen!” shouted Elijah. “Only white, Christian men because they want to end the seed of the white man and use white women for race-mixing. Where will we be when the United Nations’ army of dark peoples invade? On a fucking five-day waiting list. Will we have the weapons to defend ourselves? No! Because that’s what the Jew wants. That’s what the Zionist Occupational Government wants. Do we know who our enemy is?”
“ZOG!”
“Who is our enemy?”
“ZOG! ZOG! ZOG! ZOG!”
Elijah held his hands up for silence and smiled. “Say no to ZOG. Say it with me!”
The trainees chanted that countless times, applauding and stamping their feet in time to it. The chant changed to “E-li-jah!”—over and over, the pounding feet vibrating the floor beneath Alexei’s feet.
Elijah basked in the adulation and let the chanting die out on its own. Once there was silence again, he said, “Every government worker does what the Jew says to do. They are pawns in an evil system, some knowing and some unknowing. Regardless, they must repent or be punished. They must feel the anger of the righteous oppressed. This Jew government cannot be reformed. It has to be overthrown, it has to be destroyed, and the only way to make the government repent is to line the street with dead government workers, ZOG’s instruments of enslavement, the jack-booted minions who drive tanks into homes and murder you and your white, Aryan, Christian children. No! More!”
There, in a nutshell Alexei had what he’d come for; yet, technically, legally, this was mere hearsay. Plenty of people talked this crap and had the right to do so. He needed proof.
Enduring this night showed him there was proof somewhere in this compound. He looked toward Lewis. The computer. The only one he’d seen so far. If there were proof of any plan, Lewis’ computer would hold it.
“We are white, Christian men,” Elijah was saying. “We are Yahweh’s chosen. We are the only true citizens of this country. White men, because who wrote the Constitution? White men. White men drafted it, white men ratified it, and it applies to white men and their descendants. No one else.” Here came the charming smile again. “Who needs all those law schools?”
Laughter and applause.
“Let me summarize,” Elijah said, and Alexei hoped that meant this was coming to an end at last.
“The Jew controls our money, our government. Co-opts our women, tells us who and how to worship. Through race-mixing, school desegregation, they weaken us even as they send their children to private schools to keep them pure. Look at the heroes they push on us. Sports figures from nigger-dominated sports. Lesbian feminists who encourage women to service these sweaty, black monkeys who prance on the basketball courts, the baseball diamonds, football fields. Who invented basketball? James Naismith, a white man. Who invented baseball? Abner Doubleday, a white man.”
Applause and shouts of “Yeah!” “Amen!”
“History is
important to the patriot movement. Oh, feel free to call yourself patriot here. In Patriot City, that’s not a dirty word. We want your patriotism to grow so strong you’ll want to take your country back. By. Any. Means. Necessary. We want you to be willing to put your life on the line for your country. We want you to make America great again, once more the land of the free, the home of the brave white man.”
Applause and, at a nod from Elijah, the women broke into “God Bless America” again. Everyone stood and sang, including the instructors. Alexei’s back was glad for that.
When everyone resumed their seats, Elijah said, “A man cannot have two masters. Our master is Yahweh-Yahshua, Messiah, the anointed one of Saxon Israel, our lawgiver and king. We obey him and no other. Did you hear those words?”
“Yes!”
“Do you hear them?”
“Yes!”
“Do you hear the approaching thunder? It is the sound of the awakened patriot. War is upon us, and the enemy’s blood must flow. Men, in the name of our Lord, you must decide in your heart, in the still of the night, as you lie in bed. Before you slip into sleep, you must answer this question.” He paused, looked over the assembly, and murmured, “Liberty or death. Brothers of Patriot City, which will it be?”
“Liberty! Liberty!”
“Which will it be!”
“Liberty! Liberty!”
Elijah raised a hand, and the assembly had learned well. The silence came with startling abruptness. “The Old Testament, Yahweh’s holy word, tells us what the punishment is for breaking his commandments. What is that punishment?”
A soft voice called out, “Death.”
Louder, Elijah asked, “What is that punishment?”
“Death,” said several people.
Elijah screamed, “What! Is! That! Punishment?”
“DEATH!”
“We cannot retreat. We can no longer afford to merely talk. It’s time to train, time to reclaim this country for white people. You are the ones who can do that, who can make this country great again. Take it back, like the founding fathers did. How was that?”
“Blood,” someone said, and more voices added, “Blood! Blood!”
“Never let any race but the white race rule this country. Can you commit to that?”
“Yes!”
“Do you commit your life to that?”
“Yes!”
“When ZOG comes for you, will you lie down like a Jew dog and let them take your guns, your home, your women, your life?”
“No!”
“We are in the End Times predicted by Yahweh and his prophets. Matthew 24:7 says for nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom, and in various places there will be famines and earthquakes.”
“Amen! Praise God!” someone shouted.
“We have seen the wars. We have seen the increase in natural disasters. We are in the End Times. Matthew 24:9—they will deliver you to tribulation and will kill you, and you will be hated by all nations because of my name. We are in tribulation now. The Jew hates us because we are white, because we are Christians who defend Yahweh’s name. We have reached the point of no return. We must go forth and fight to reclaim our country for its white citizens.”
“Amen!”
“Rise now, and swear the Patriot City oath of allegiance.”
The instructors rose with the others, and Alexei dreaded what was to come. Elijah’s right arm jutted out in a Nazi salute, and everyone followed his example.
With a silent apology to his dead father and siblings, Alexei raised his right arm.
“Repeat after me,” Elijah said. “My brothers, let us be a weapon of war.” He paused after every phrase to allow the others to repeat.
“We go forth as true Aryan men, our hearts and minds pure.”
“We will fight the enemies of our race.”
“We will not lay down our arms until the enemy is dead.”
“We will reclaim our land, as promised to our fathers.”
“With our blood and God’s will. Amen.”
Elijah lowered his arm, as did everyone else. “Go, my brothers, and rest. In a few hours you’ll take the first step toward freedom, toward a country of white people, by white people, for white people.” Elijah walked to the rear of the stage and disappeared among the shadows there.
Radd stood with a clipboard and handed a sheet of paper with names and an agenda on it to each instructor. “This is what needs to be accomplished tomorrow. Gather your trainees and go over this with them. Now. Mess Hall is 0600. You got this, Nevansky?”
“Yes, sir.”
Though command was years behind him, Alexei fell into the gruff, no-nonsense demeanor expected here. He went over the schedule, berated his group for asking questions, and dismissed them after he saw other instructors doing the same. At last the instructors were released for some sleep.
What have I gotten myself into, Alexei wondered as he walked to the bungalow assigned to him.
He was glad to find he was alone when he entered. He stripped down to his underwear and crawled into bed, remembering to put the Walther beneath his pillow.
He slept right away but dreamt of burning crosses, an army of soldiers in dark blue berets, and people crucified on the facades of government buildings.
31
Hidden Agendas
Washington, D.C.
Edwin Terrell was no longer CIA, and that disallowed his access to Directorate Headquarters. He knew exactly where it was and could have sold that information for a hefty paycheck, but sometimes his honor surfaced over his desire for money. No one in The Directorate had screwed him over the way the CIA had.
The lunch invitation from Nelson was a pleasant surprise, and he was looking forward to seeing an old friend. He was even more surprised when he was told to go to one of the marinas on the Washington Channel near Fort McNair. At the end of the numbered pier he’d been given sat a mid-sized Westport yacht. He boarded after a Directorate security agent checked his ID, and the yacht got underway. The agent escorted him to the dining room.
Nelson stood by the dining table, leaning on his cane.
“You’ve come up in the world, Slick,” Terrell said.
Nelson shifted his cane to his right hand and shook Terrell’s left. “Cruising makes it difficult for anyone to listen in,” Nelson said. “Lunch is ready, but how about a drink?”
“I’d never turn that down.”
“Scotch?”
“Of course.”
Over drinks they chatted about mundane things, one of Nelson’s ploys to sucker someone in, but, hell, Terrell wasn’t paying for the Scotch. When they moved on to lunch, Terrell knew Nelson would get down to business. There were no free meals anymore.
And it didn’t take Nelson long. “You and Mai still stay in touch?”
“You know that. In fact, I had a chat with her this morning during her run.”
“What has she told you about her current mission?”
Terrell smiled. “Why, nothing. Nothing at all.”
“No need to protect her. Your clearances are intact.”
“Right-wingers or some such.”
Nelson’s turn to smile. “Some of the same right-wingers who have you on their ‘consultant’ payroll. Does Mai know that?”
“That’s got nothing to do with what Mai and Alexei are into, and she doesn’t know. I suppose you’re going to tell her.”
“No. I don’t agree with what you’re doing, and, officially, it’s off my radar. I wish you’d put Vietnam behind you and not use it as an excuse to help orchestrate a coup.”
“Randolph, the draft-dodger President, is too much for me.”
“Fine. I accept that, but explain one thing. The guy your employers are going to front in a few years, his rich daddy did all he could to keep him out of harm’s way.”
Terrell never ceased to be amazed by the reach of this now desk-bound man. Only a handful knew the dark horse’s identity. Hell, the guy himself didn’t even know. He was
hoping to be the baseball commissioner. “Unlike the draft-dodger-in-chief, he put on a uniform,” Terrell said.
“Snake, he was frequently AWOL from his guard unit, usually around the time for a piss test.”
“Look, you know me. I’m in it for the money, not the ideology. Right-wingers have deep pockets. Why don’t we get down to why you called me here?”
“Alexei is undercover in a right-wing compound I believe is in Missouri—or Kansas or any of a half dozen other states.”
“That would be Patriot City.”
“How do you know that?”
“Mai told me.”
“Do you know its location?”
“No. If it’s in Missouri, you just told me. I have nothing to do with them.”
“Snake, there are connections.”
“I have nothing to do with them.”
Nelson studied him. A long time. He nodded and said, “Understood. I’d like you to shadow Mai for a couple of days.”
“What?”
“She’s strung out on lack of sleep and too much Irish whiskey.”
“Over Alexei? Get real. She’s always that way on a mission.”
“She went postal on some CEO at Signature Aviation a while back. He called the cops, who started digging. It took me a lot of blackmail to shut the yuppie shithead’s mouth.”
“We both know Mai can be intense when someone pisses her off. Is this lunch thing your obtuse way of asking if I’m supplying her cocaine?”
“Are you?”
“No. She made the big promise to her old man, and she’s kept it.”
“Will you shadow her?”
“Yes. You want her to see me or not?”
“I’d prefer not, but I know how good she is in spotting a tail.”
“When?”
“She’s stalling meeting up with her subject because of Alexei’s absence. I’ll let you know when she leaves. She’s about to get the ultimatum. Keep an eye on her for a day or two and let me know what you think.”
“What if she’s off her game?”
“Even though I need her to finish what she started, I’ll pull her back until Alexei decides to come home.”
