Day of Reckoning

by G. Michael Hopf

  “I don’t think I’ll need to tell them to do anything, Shade’s response to this attack will have them riled up, but I’ll make the call.”

  “Just make sure they take to the streets. We need law enforcement focused on them. And one final thing.”

  After a long pause, Jorge asked, “Yes?”

  “As soon as President Shade implements his executive order, we need one of the federal judges on your payroll to block it. We can’t have anything in our way.”

  “What are you planning?”

  “Mr. Sorossi, you’ll see soon enough. Just do as we ask and we’ll give you what we both want, the toppling of the United States.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “When it happens, you’ll know. Goodbye.”

  Ramona, California

  “Cheers!” the group joyfully said in unison as their glasses clanged together.

  Cassidy looked at each person sitting at the table, stopping on Sophie. He mouthed, I love you.

  Sophie winked at Cassidy.

  Laughter broke out.

  Cassidy relaxed in his chair, taking in the moment. Surrounding him were the most important people in his life. Sophie, his beloved girlfriend; her brother, Scott; and Jim Ramsey, an old friend from his days in the Marine Corps.

  “Dinner was amazing, thanks so much,” Ramsey said, rubbing his belly.

  “I’m happy you enjoyed it,” Sophie said, her chin resting on her hands. A pleasant smile graced her face.

  Cassidy looked at Sophie and said, “She’s an amazing cook. That’s why I’ve tacked on a few extra pounds.”

  “You know what they say, belly full, balls empty, that’s how you keep a man,” Sophie joked.

  “I love her even more.” Ramsey smiled.

  She reached and took Cassidy’s hand, squeezed it and replied, “I’m blessed. He’s a good guy.”

  Scott looked at his watch and said, “Dinner was so good and the company better, but I need to call it a night.”

  “No, not yet,” Cassidy urged, shocked to hear Scott was leaving.

  “Yeah, I got a text just before dinner. I’ve got to report to Otay tomorrow,” Scott replied. He worked for the San Diego Port Authority.

  “Wait, does that mean you’re not going hunting with us tomorrow?” Cassidy asked.

  “Sorry, but I got to go in,” Scott said, standing.

  “We’ve had this planned for months,” Cassidy complained.

  “Duty calls. You know this better than me,” Scott said.

  “There has to be someone who can take this,” Cassidy said.

  “When you’re the manager of operations and one of your employees calls in sick, someone has to step up and that person is me.”

  “Total bullshit,” Cassidy said.

  “But there’s good news, I can join you later tomorrow night at your campsite,” Scott said.

  “Good, so it’s not a total loss,” Cassidy said.

  “I have to ask, is it really a sick call or something to do with this terrorist stuff?” Sophie asked.

  “Now, Sophie, you know I can neither confirm nor deny,” Scott quipped.

  “I’d like to say I’m shocked but I’m not,” Cassidy injected.

  “I’m just waiting for big attacks like that to come here,” Ramsey chimed in.

  “It’s scary. I can see it happening here though too,” Sophie added.

  Scott glanced at his watch but didn’t leave. “Schools, that’s what I think. Why not hit schools?”

  All eyes turned to Cassidy.

  “It’s our soft underbelly. I’ll be honest, I not only sweep the floors but play security guard, and let me tell you, that’s a tall task to accomplish with a school administration that’s clueless. I was only just able to convince them to lock the gates when the bell rings. I wanted to restrict access but they wouldn’t have it. I was told to mind my own business and go back to the job I was hired for.”

  “Idiots, we have more security at a jewelry store than at our schools.” Ramsey sighed.

  “No one cares until they have to care then everyone wants to cast blame somewhere else,” Cassidy groaned as he took a drink of his beer.

  “That’s gotta be so frustrating for you,” Ramsey said.

  “It is, from being a squad leader with combat experience to sweeping floors, cleaning toilets and having middle-aged women with master’s degrees in elementary education telling me how to best secure the school is quite frustrating. Get this, I’ve seen this one vehicle, the same car almost every day for the past two weeks, cruising the school, a single guy driving. Sometimes he’s parked and just staring at the school.”

  “A ped?” Ramsey asked.

  “Could be, but dude, he looks like a Hajji. Like I could see this guy driving by us in Sangin, but his car would have a bomb in it,” Cassidy said.

  “Let me get this straight, you’ve spotted a single Muslim-looking guy cruising by your school or parked close by the past couple of weeks and you thought not to tell me?” Sophie asked.

  “I didn’t want to alarm you. I told the administration. At first they were interested until I said the magic get-out-of-jail words in liberal California.”

  “Let me guess, illegal, no undocumented,” Ramsey joked.

  “Close…Muslim. The second I think this guy could be a fucking terrorist casing our school, they get butt hurt and ask me to stop. The principal even suggested I go see counseling and that they don’t profile, period.” Cassidy laughed and continued. “I took down the pertinent details and contacted the SDPD. Hopefully they’ll check on him.”

  “Good, but what’s up with the admin? It’s like the world is upside down. What’s good is now bad, and what’s bad is now good. It’s like we’re living in the Twilight Zone,” Sophie said.

  “Ha, good cultural reference but how would a twenty-five-year-old know the Twilight Zone?” Ramsey asked, chuckling.

  “Netflix,” she answered.

  Cassidy sighed heavily and said, “Every day I kick myself for getting in that damn car. I knew I should have called Uber or a cab, but I just thought I was only driving a couple of miles away. My damn fool hubris got the better of me and now look at me. I’m a total failure.”

  “Don’t say that,” Ramsey said.

  “You’re solid, bro, don’t let the past get you down. You’re gainfully employed, you have benefits and that job is not the last one you’ll get. Please don’t beat yourself up over it,” Scott said.

  Sophie rubbed his arm.

  “Enough of the pity party, let’s all toast to loved ones and friends,” Cassidy said. He jumped up, went to the freezer and removed a chilled bottle of Fireball.

  “Oh God, not Fireball,” Scott said. “Sorry, I’m out.”

  “Fine, you’re out, but you two, you’re having one with me,” Cassidy said to Sophie and Ramsey.

  “I hate you,” Sophie joked. She detested the taste of Fireball.

  He blew her a kiss and poured three full shot glasses.

  Ramsey took his and raised it.

  Cassidy did the same with Sophie joining.

  Scott grabbed a glass of water so he wouldn’t be left out.

  “To friends and loved ones!” Cassidy cheered.

  The others tapped their glasses and repeated what he said.

  Cassidy stepped into the bedroom and closed the door. “He’s all tucked in,” he said referring to Ramsey.

  “What a good friend. Did you read him a story too?” she joked from behind the glow of her iPad.

  “No, but I did sing him a lullaby,” Cassidy replied, jumping into bed and crawling next to her.

  “He’s a nice guy, I like him,” she said.

  “Me too, but I’d rather talk about you now,” he said with a softer tone.

  “Oh really?”

  “Whatcha doing?” Cassidy asked after taking notice she was fully intrigued by whatever was on her screen.

  “Did you know that babies in the womb can recognize the voices of their parents?�
� Sophie asked.

  “Yeah, I’d heard that before, but why are you reading about babies? Do you have something to tell me?” Cassidy said as he slowly lifted her pajama top.

  “Um, what are you doing?” Sophie asked glaring at him.

  “Role-playing what I’d do if you were pregnant by talking to your belly,” Cassidy said lowering his head to her belly. “Hi, this is Daddy. Are you nice and warm in there?”

  Sophie put the iPad down. She longingly looked at Cassidy.

  “Daddy, can’t wait to meet you,” he said softly.

  “You’re so silly.” Sophie laughed as she ran her fingers through his thick dark hair.

  “Why are you reading about babies? Shouldn’t you be responding to your regional manager’s e-mail concerning the position in Boise?” Cassidy asked.

  “I should. I’ve been doing a ton of research on Boise. It looks nice and the cost of living is so much lower than here. We could get a big home, with a yard.”

  “I’ll support anything you do. It’s not as if I have a real job,” Cassidy said.

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Let’s get back to why you’re reading about babies,” Cassidy said.

  “No reason, just saw it on Facebook. But if we were to have a baby, Boise has decent schools, but more importantly, the quality of life looks so much better. I’m just torn, as my family is all here.”

  “They could always come visit,” Cassidy said.

  She took his face in her hand and turned it left and right. “I hope they get your looks.”

  “Your family?”

  “No, our baby…if we ever have one.”

  “My looks, are you crazy? Could you imagine me with long hair and lipstick? Poor little girl would be tortured.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re the most handsome man I’ve met,” she said softly.

  He shot her a look, smiled and joked, “Are you being nice so you’ll get lucky tonight?”

  “And you’re smart,” she said with a devilish grin.

  He sat up, tore off his shirt and said, “Fine, twist my arm.”

  She pulled him close and gave him a kiss.

  San Diego, California

  “Turn the TV off and come to bed,” Madison groaned.

  “Just another minute,” Brett mumbled, his eyes glued to the scenes of death and mayhem on the television screen.

  “Nothing new is going to be reported and I have to say, it’s depressing me. Please turn it off,” Madison complained.

  Brett cocked his head and said, “Depressing you? So sorry a tragedy like this is annoying and inconvenient.”

  “I didn’t say that. Stop putting words in my mouth,” Madison shot back.

  “You haven’t had any interest in what’s happening, not one bit.”

  “Because I don’t need to drown myself in the news. I heard what happened, there’s nothing I can do about it, but I’m informed. That’s all I need to do.”

  Brett put his attention on the screen again and thought about what she had said, specifically, the point about not being able to do anything about it. Is that true? It was in the sense that there wasn’t anything they could do for these people in Copenhagen, but what about ensuring he and his family were safer? Can I be more proactive at home? He turned the television off and came to the bedroom.

  Madison was sitting up in bed with her iPad, flipping through Pinterest, looking for a drink recipe.

  Brett got into bed and scooted next to her. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to have a special drink for the party, something fun and bubbly.”

  “Hmm.”

  She sighed, looked at him and rolled her eyes. “This is why I hate you watching too much news, you get grumpy.”

  “I’m not grumpy.”

  “Then what was that little noise you just made?”

  “It was nothing.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “You want to know?” he asked.

  “I’m sure you’ll tell me regardless,” Madison groaned.

  “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing, I’m just a bit done with the Copenhagen thing. It’s all you’ve been talking about since we left the gym. I get it, it’s a bad deal, it sucks but I still have my life to live. I feel horrible for those people, but like I said, there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

  Brett thought about countering her but held his tongue. He knew Madison well enough to know she would only fight about it.

  She reached out, touched his arm and with a softer tone said, “Don’t stress so much. Everything will be fine, we’ll be fine, the kids will be fine.”

  He trusted her words before, but this time they didn’t provide the comfort they normally did. He scrunched his face and replied, “What happened just makes me sick. I worry that something will happen here and I’m just not prepared.”

  Seeing the stress and concern, she moved closer and planted a kiss on his lips. “Oh, honey, we’re as prepared as we need to be. We have everything we need, you’re a great provider, our family has everything it needs.”

  “Do we?” he asked, referencing the attacks and questioning if he was truly ready to handle a situation if it came to his world.

  She leaned back slightly and asked, “What do you think we need?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just worried. Those poor people were just sitting ducks; there was nothing they could do.”

  “What do you expect them to do when some madmen with guns start shooting?”

  “Fight back,” he blurted out.

  “Fight back, like pull their own guns out or give them a karate chop? That’s lunacy,” she snapped, her soft tone melting away instantly.

  “What’s wrong with fighting back?”

  “That’s not our job, that’s the police’s job. Civilians don’t fight,” she boldly declared.

  “What if someone had fought back, maybe they could have prevented more people from getting killed. Look at September 11.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The plane that crashed in Pennsylvania, that plane was headed to Washington and was supposed to hit a building. If those passengers hadn’t fought back, others would have died.”

  “Yeah, but those people died.”

  “They did, but they sacrificed themselves to save others, that’s honorable. And they were going to die anyway. That plane was going to smash into a building.”

  Madison pulled further back and asked, “What’s gotten into you? Never in my life have I ever heard you use such language. Honorable?”

  He could feel his blood pressure rising as her typical condescending tone began to irritate him. Knowing if he kept countering her, she wouldn’t stop and the discussion they were having would turn into a fight.

  Madison sighed heavily and picked up her iPad.

  He looked at her and wished she could feel the way he did. She was smart but equally stubborn. Doubt then entered his mind. Maybe he was being foolish; maybe his emotional response to the grisly attacks in Copenhagen were nothing more than an emotional overreach on his part. Like he did with other things, he would need to sleep on it and let some time come in between the events and him. He slipped further under the covers and clicked his light off. As he laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, the images he had watched earlier flashed. He worked out different scenarios if he had been there until he drifted to sleep.

  Rancho Bernardo, California

  Mo relaxed into the heavily cushioned chair. The movie he and his parents were watching was either boring or he just couldn’t focus. Who knew, but for seventeen-year-old kids, focusing was an issue unless they were playing the latest game, and for him that was HALO.

  “Put your phone down and watch the movie. I rented this just for you,” Mo’s father snapped.

  Mo put his phone down and put his attention back on the movie.

  A ping sounded on Mo’s phone
.

  He looked down and saw his friend Malik had sent him a text. He swiped and pulled it up.

  “Check this out. AWESOME!!!” Malik wrote.

  Below was a link to a video.

  Mo clicked the link. His browser pulled up and shortly after a video feed began. He leaned closer to see what it was. The video was dark and it was hard to hear clearly over what to him sounded like screams, shouting and gunfire.

  His phone pinged again.

  “Go to 1:56. Watch the bitch INFIDEL cry. HILARIOUS!”

  Mo went to the time on the video. On the screen, a woman was on her knees, her arms up, and on her face tears streamed, but more importantly her face told the story of a woman terrified.

  “Please, no, don’t do this,” she begged.

  Several men offscreen were laughing and speaking in what was clearly Arabic.

  “Please don’t.”

  A man entered the screen and grabbed the woman by her thick blond hair and pulled her head back hard.

  She wailed in pain and terror.

  The man brandished a six-inch knife. He held it closer to the camera lens and shouted, “Allahu Akbar!”

  The men off camera began to holler the same.

  The man without hesitation took the blade and slid it across the woman’s bare throat. Blood spurted out.

  The woman gurgled and choked.

  He pulled her head back farther and put the knife again on her throat but this time he sawed at it until he ripped her head off her shoulders.

  The men offscreen cheered.

  The man with the knife held up her dismembered head and hollered, “ Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar!”

  An unknown number of men entered the screen. They placed their open palms in the blood and showed it to the camera. In unison they began to chant, wamin nahiat alddamawia.

  The video ended.

  Mo was wide-eyed. He was in between a state of shock and delight.

  “What was that!” his father yelled and smacked the phone out of his hand.

  Startled by his father’s sudden appearance over his shoulder, Mo jumped and said, “What? Nothing.”

  “Nothing! I saw it, don’t lie! What are you doing? What are you watching? Huh? Is it your friend Malik? Huh?”