The members of the faculty looked at each other in confusion, but said nothing.
“Jake, we’re all loaded!” Deon called.
“You folks have a nice day,” Jake said to the five who remained behind. He climbed onto the bus, and the vehicles left the compound. The children in the buses were just now coming to grips with what had happened.
“We’re free!” Burt shouted, and everyone in the bus cheered loudly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lancaster, Pennsylvania
“It’s started,” Gregoire said with a broad grin. He hit his fist into his hand. “I knew they couldn’t hold us down. Two hundred and thirty-eight years of freedom can’t be so easily erased.”
“It’s just one city, George,” Riley said.
“Yes, it’s starting with one city,” Gregoire replied. “But I’m telling you, Mark. Today it’s Mobile, but when people around the country hear that, there will be more cities taken back, New Orleans, Dallas, Atlanta, Louisville. No matter what these Moqaddas Sirata bastards do, or say, they can’t hold down the wave of freedom, once the movement starts.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“How much longer until broadcast?”
“Thirty seconds,” Riley said. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, open with me here, I’ll walk across to there,” he said, pointing out his blocking in the makeshift studio.
“Ten seconds,” Riley said.
Gregoire stood in position until Riley brought his hand down. He smiled at the camera.
“Hello, America.
“The city of Mobile, Alabama, has been liberated. Freedom fighters from United Free America freed the city from the oppressive occupation of Ohmshidi’s personal military force, the State Protective Service. Not only was the city freed, but so too were the almost one hundred young people who were being held prisoner in the nearby youth concentration camp.
“All across America there are groups, and even individuals, who are fighting for the freedom and liberty we had so long enjoyed, before the disastrous presidency of Mehdi Ohmshidi. I will continue to keep you informed so that you can take hope in our eventual salvation.
“Long ago our founding fathers pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to secure liberty for the people. We have such people among us today. And to those of you who are engaged in this fight, you have the thanks of all America, and I know that God’s blessings are upon you. To those of you who have not joined the fight, ask not what they can do for you, ask rather, what you can do for them.
“Good night, and God bless.
“This is George Gregoire, telling you to take back America!”
Muslimabad
Ohmshidi wasn’t watching the broadcast, but Hassan was, and watching with him was a man named Caleb Brenneman.
“You are sure that if I tell you, you will free my brother?” Brenneman said.
“Yes, yes, he will be set free.”
“You will find George Gregoire at the house of Solomon Lantz in Lancaster, Pennsylvania,” Caleb said. “He is passing himself off as Lantz’s uncle, as Amish, but he is English. When you find him, he won’t look like he does on the television. He is being made up to look very old.”
The Harry S. Truman Building
Once more, the Great Leader, President for Life Ohmshidi, was summoned to the office of Mohammad Akbar Rahimi.
“Do you know what this is?” Rahimi asked, holding out a bill.
“It looks like currency of some sort.”
“It is. It is the currency of the breakaway state, United Free America. They are calling the currency Freedom Dollars.”
Ohmshidi chuckled. “What does it matter if they print their currency? It can’t be of any value.”
“Their currency has gained international recognition, and is exchanged at an established rate throughout the rest of the world.”
Ohmshidi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That can’t be true. How can money they print be worth anything, unless it is backed?”
“It is backed by at least fifty million Moqaddas in gold,” Rahimi said.
“They have to be lying about that. They don’t have any gold.”
“They have convinced the World Bank that they have gold. I don’t think they could do that if they didn’t actually have it.”
“How would the World Bank know, anyway? I mean, suppose they did have that much gold—they are isolated, there is no way for them to reach the World Bank.”
“Not as isolated as they once were. They have now taken Mobile and the Mobile airport. It is also my understanding that there were four airliners on the ground at Mobile when the city fell to the rebels. The crews of those aircraft have gone over to the rebels, and the rebels have now established their own airline.”
“To fly where? I’m certainly not going to recognize them, so they won’t have clearance into any airport in the AIRE.”
“No, but they can establish international flights to Mexico, the Bahamas, Jamaica, South America. From there, they will have access to the rest of the world.”
“Imam, some people made a demonstration. It is nothing, we will soon have it put down.”
“See that you do. I will not have our plans for this country to be the center of a world caliphate, put into jeopardy by a group of revolutionary infidels.”
“I will make certain that these apostates cause us no more trouble,” Ohmshidi promised.
“What about the Ultimate Resolution?”
“The Ultimate Resolution is well under way, Imam. I have put the Janissaries in charge of the operation. They are well aware of what must be done to solve the Jewish problem.”
“Ohmshidi, as these things develop, you must keep me informed. Don’t make me send for you as a schoolmaster must do for a wayward student.”
“I will keep you informed, Imam,” Ohmshidi promised.
Plano, Texas
American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment
Department of Relocation for Jews—
Muslimabad, AIRE
Obey Ohmshidi
Mr. and Mrs. Sam and Sarah Gelbman
2117 Davenport Court
Dallas, TX
Subject: Acceptance Letter—Relocation
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Sam and Sarah Gelbman:
In the name of Allah, Most Gracious, Most Merciful, congratulations! Your names have been selected to participate in the Jewish Relocation Program.
The JRP is designed to provide an area where Jews who have been unable to assimilate into the way of truth and enlightenment, may, by agreeing to abandon all personal holdings, relocate to an area to be chosen which will concentrate all apostates into a controlled area whereby you may practice your own religion.
In order to be processed, you must have this letter of appointment in hand when reporting to the Jewish Relocation Center in Plano, Texas.
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, peace to you.
Kareem Ali
Commandant
Jewish Relocation Program
Obey Ohmshidi
Once one of the biggest churches in America, Preston Acres Fellowship Church in Plano had been taken over by the Moqaddas Sirata Muslims. Although the church had been converted to a mosque, it was now being used as a processing center, and a sign spread across the front of the main building proclaimed its purpose.
JEWISH RELOCATION CENTER
This had once been the church of over 30,000 Christians, but over the last two weeks at least two thousand Jews had been processed there. A loudspeaker greeted the crowd of more than five hundred who had gathered this morning.
“Obey Ohmshidi! Please have your appointment letter in your hand, and your identity cards pinned to your shirt or jacket. Without your appointment letter and identity cards, you cannot be processed.”
Sam and Sarah Gelbman were among those who were to be processed today, and they stood together, clutching the appointment letter they had received.
“We’d better g
et our ID cards pinned to our shirts,” Sam said.
“Obey Ohmshidi! Please have your appointment letter in your hand, and your identity cards pinned to your shirt or jacket. Without your appointment letter and identity cards, you cannot be processed.”
“Sam, I don’t know,” Sarah said as she pinned Sam’s ID card on for him.
“You don’t know what?”
“I don’t know how I feel about this. There’s something about it that just isn’t quite right.”
“Sarah, you were the one who was pushing to get this letter. You said you wanted to go somewhere, where we would be free to live our own lives.”
“I know I did. But I’m having second thoughts now.”
“Sarah, I know you don’t want to leave our home here,” Sam said. “I don’t blame you. It took us years to get it just the way we wanted it. Besides which, we are about to lose it anyway—you know that as well as I do. It’s about to be taken away from us. But there are some things more important than just having a nice home; and being able to live in a place where people aren’t breathing down our necks every minute is one of those things.”
“Obey Ohmshidi! Please have your appointment letter in your hand, and your identity cards pinned to your shirt or jacket. Without your appointment letter and identity cards, you cannot be processed.”
“How do you know that’s where we’re going?”
“Where else would we be going? You read the same article I did. There is a huge tract of land out in West Texas where they are relocating everyone who doesn’t want to convert. And it makes sense when you think about it. I expect they don’t want us any more than we want them. And this letter says that we will be free to practice our own religion.”
“Obey Ohmshidi! Please have your appointment letter in your hand, and your identity cards pinned to your shirt or jacket. Without your appointment letter and identity cards, you cannot be processed.”
“I wish they would change that announcement,” Sam said. “It’s driving me nuts.”
“Sam, let’s don’t do this. Let’s go back home,” Sarah said.
“Now why in heaven’s name do you want to go back home? We talked about it when the offer came out in the paper, and you agreed that we would do this. It’s not like we’re being forced to move, we are the ones who applied for the letter.”
“Obey Ohmshidi! Please have your appointment letter in your hand, and your identity cards pinned to your shirt or jacket. Without your appointment letter and identity cards, you cannot be processed.”
“Jesus, will you shut the hell up with that announcement? We’ve heard it already,” Sam said, his irritation growing.
“I’m scared. There’s something about this that I don’t like.”
Sam put his arm around his wife. “It’ll be all right,” he said. “I know you’re a little nervous. Who wouldn’t be? But I’m sure it will be all right.”
“We’ve been married for ten years, Sam. You know that when I get these kind of feelings that I’m usually right.”
“What has you so frightened?”
“These aren’t policemen. They aren’t even the regular SPS. They are Janissaries. You and I both know that the Janissaries are the worst.”
Sam sighed. “All right, if you are that worried about it, we won’t go. Come on, we’ll go back home. Though, I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to stay there.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said.
The two started back toward the door, but they were stopped by a couple of the men in black uniforms.
“Where do you think you are going?” one of them asked.
“We’ve changed our mind,” Sam said. “We’re going back home. Here’s our letter.”
“It’s too late. You’ve already received the letter, you will be relocated.”
“That’s silly,” Sam said. “I’d think you would be glad that we’ve changed our mind. That leaves room for someone else.”
“You will be relocated. Now, get back in line.”
“I will not get back in line. I told you . . .” That was as far as Sam got before the Janissary hit him on the side of his head with his pistol. Sam went down to his knees.
“Sam!” Sarah shouted.
“I said, get back in line,” the Janissary repeated.
Sarah pulled a tissue from her purse and put it to the side of Sam’s head.
“What are you doing? Why did you hit him like that? Are you crazy?” she asked.
“I didn’t hit him hard enough to hurt him. Now the two of you get back in line like I said.”
Sarah helped Sam to his feet. “Come on, Sam. We’ll go. Maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“Obey Ohmshidi! Please have your appointment letter in your hand, and your identity cards pinned to your shirt or jacket. Without your appointment letter and identity cards, you cannot be processed.”
Holding a tissue to the wound on the side of his head, Sam walked with Sarah to the table by the side door where someone was checking the appointment letters and ID cards. Unlike the Janissaries and their black uniforms, this man was in civilian clothes. As soon as he identified the person, he would find their name on a printout, then make a mark beside it.
“What happened to you?” the man at the table asked as Sam and Sarah approached.
“I . . .”
“He fell down,” Sarah said, quickly, before Sam could say what actually happened.
“Yes, well, be careful getting onto the bus.” “I’ll look out for him,” Sarah said.
“What did you tell him that for?” Sam asked once they were outside the building, and walking toward the ten buses that were parked along the street.
“I think it’s best we aren’t perceived as troublemakers,” Sarah said. “At least, not until we get to where we are going.”
As they approached the buses they saw several more black-uniformed Janissaries standing on the sidewalk.
“Which bus do we get on?” Sam asked.
“Do not address me, Jew, without the proper salute.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The proper salute, Jew!”
Sam made a fist of his right hand, crossed it across his chest, and said, “Obey Ohmshidi.”
“You will get on this bus, she will go on one of the others,” the man answered. Sam noticed that he did not return the salute.
“What?” Sam replied, protesting loudly. “Wait a minute, what do you mean we go on separate buses? This is my wife!”
“Men and women are not allowed to travel together. It’s the law of Moqaddas Sirata.”
“What the hell do I care about the law of Moqaddas Sirata? We’re Jews, remember? The Jewish relocation program? Does that ring a bell with you?” Sam held up the letter of acceptance.
“Get on the bus, Jew, or we will put you on the bus,” the Janissary ordered.
“Do it, Sam,” Sarah said. “I’ll be all right.”
“You go over here,” the officer said to Sarah, pointing to another bus.
Sam felt a lump in his throat, and a pressure behind his eyes as he watched his wife being led away. He climbed onto the bus, then settled in the third seat back from the door, on the right side of the vehicle. He sat there, staring through the window as the others were brought out of the building to load onto the buses, and he watched as the men and women were separated.
Sam began to think about the recurring dream that had been plaguing him for the last three years. In that dream some event would separate him from Sarah, and he would be unable to locate her. Often the dreams would be so disconcerting that he would wake up in the middle of the night, breathing hard, his heart beating rapidly, able to calm himself only when he reached over and felt his wife lying beside him.
Now that nightmare was coming true. Or, was this just another dream? Yes, that was it! That had to be it! This was no more than a bad dream. He had certainly had them enough to be able to recognize them. Sometimes when he realized he was having a bad dream, he could will himself
to wake up, and he decided to do that now.
Wake up! Wake up! He told himself.
The bus engine started with a loud roar, and Sam didn’t awaken, because he was already awake.
“My God,” Sam said quietly. “It isn’t a dream. It’s a nightmare, and it has come true!”
Sam saw the other buses pulling away, and he realized to his horror that he didn’t even know which bus Sarah was on.
Sarah knew about Sam’s recurring dream, and as the buses drove off, she thought about her husband and the terror he must be going through, now that his worst nightmare was coming true. She held onto the hope and the prayer that they would be reunited once they reached their destination, but when she realized that the buses weren’t traveling together, she began to lose hope.
Sam was a strong man, a veteran of the war in Afghanistan who, as lieutenant and platoon leader, had been awarded the Silver Star for bravery in battle. Sarah knew that he could face death calmly, but, like many strong men, he had his Achilles’ heel, and in his case it was separation anxiety.
“Hang on, Sam,” she said quietly. “Hang on to the thought that I love you, no matter where you are, no matter where I am, and know that our love will keep us together.”
The bus rolled on, far into the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It was twenty-four hours later when Sam’s bus passed through a gate into some sort of compound. There was a “Welcome” sign just inside the gate.
Welcome to Jewish Ultimate Resolution Camp 26
Earn Your Freedom by Working
Obey Ohmshidi
Looking through the window, Sam could see nothing but men, but maybe it was because the women were all inside somewhere. When the bus stopped, an official stepped in through the door. “Everyone off the bus!” he called. “Follow me for your in-processing.”
Firebase Freedom Page 19
