Fueling the Rage

by Jim Wilson

  The senior agent’s eyes then shifted to Bill and he memorized his description. Bill is a very large muscular African American with very dark skin color. His coloring is very similar to mine, but his individual facial features are that of a Caucasian. Maybe he is from India. Bill is wearing a long dirty white robe and a turban. He is dressed like a Muslim cleric. The senior agent did not get to the top of his field by overlooking the obvious or taking unnecessary chances. He knew that the DFBI considered this a battle of a war. His agents were all in their cars. He also knew that at this moment these two men could overpower him.

  ”Let me introduce you to my agents.” He then turned and told them to join him. He now had eight men behind him and told Bill and Ivan to raise their hands. “Cuff them.” Bill and Ivan smiled and submitted. “Get their identification.” They had no identification. Ivan was wearing a shoulder holster with a silenced pistol and three clips neatly attached to the strap that ran under his right arm. They stripped off Bill’s robe and turban. He was wearing a belt and holstered Glock 23. There were six clips of ammo neatly spaced near where the robe pockets allowed his hand to reach them.

  Bill requested that someone call the DFBI for a description. The DFBI had no sense of humor and he yelled so loudly that the Houston senior agent was not able to hold the cell phone to his ear. The other agents restored Bill and Ivan to a pre-search status and apologized. Ivan and Bill split the agents and were driven to their requested sites. Ivan and four agents entered the large stand-alone structure of Well Oil. It was located in a low-end heavy industrial park. They requested the receptionist have all security guards report to her desk and showed the search warrant to the senior guard. They were all unarmed and were ordered to close all of the exits of the plant and close the exit to the parking lot. Agents then stood back and allowed Ivan to do whatever he did. Dr. Sims was called to the lobby by the receptionist. Ivan had an FBI agent show him the search warrant. With observations and a few questions Ivan was certain that Sims was not part of the jihad. What became obvious to Sims was that he needed to discuss the prison convert workers with Ivan.

  Ivan and the agents could see that Dr. Sims was working with them like a victim. He was not just answering questions, he was making suggestions. Ivan requested that every prison convert be rounded up. Sims thought that they all had jobs and locations for those jobs. They were trained to work on the rigs. Dr. Sims gave Ivan a print out of every prison convert’s work hours and location. In addition, he printed their personal identification forms, showing that all of them had the same home address and phone number. The list of their locations was emailed to the state police. Within minutes, police officers in the closest jurisdiction were dispatched to every Well Oil rig in Texas. Special attention was given to the area of less than fifty miles from Houston.

  “The owner is Malcolm Akiff. Have you contacted him?”

  Ivan replied, “He’s a bad guy.”

  “He has an office in this building.” Reports from the state police started to come to the FBI agent in response to the emails. Half of the prison converts were not at their designated job sites.

  Ivan asked Sims, “Where’s the closest rig with a live prison convert?”

  Sims answered after looking at the list, “It’s twenty miles west of Houston.”

  Ivan said to the FBI, “I need a helicopter.”

  Sims answered, “I have one.” Police were dispatched to the rig and told to hold all of the workers. There was only room for Sims, Ivan and one FBI agent in the helicopter. In ten minutes, the helicopter landed at the rig. There were police on site. They were blocking the only exit from the rig, but they had not picked up the converts.

  Sims and the pilot were instructed to stay behind the helicopter. Ivan was no longer wearing his suit jacket so that he could get to his pistol as needed. The FBI agent called out, “I need to have the following two men stop working and report to me!” He then called out their names. One man stepped forward. He was a tall black man wearing a kufi hat.

  The agent cuffed him and Ivan approached him, “We need to talk. Let’s take a walk.” Ivan said to the FBI agent, “Go back to the helicopter with Sims.”

  *****

  Bill and five agents entered the Peace Mosque. A man was sitting inside near the entrance, “You can’t come in this mosque. It is for members only.” The man then saw Bill in a robe and turban, “Who are these guys?”

  “They’re police officers, but they’ll wait outside.” The agents went outside, separated and each found exit door, then waited for Bill to come out. “I’m Mohammad Johnson your newest cleric. Are any of the clerics in the mosque?”

  “No, only six prison converts are here.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “There is a special project going on. I volunteer here one day a week to watch this door and write down names of visitors in this book.”

  “Take me to the prison converts.”

  “I can’t leave the entrance.”

  Bill went outside and walked back in with the senior agent, “This man will watch the door until you get back.”

  Bill and the man headed for the prison converts and entered the dormitory together. The men were watching television. “This is the new cleric. He wanted to meet you all. His name is Mohammad.” Bill thanked the man and sent him back to his post. He joined the other men at the television. There were twenty chairs. “I’m Mohammad Johnson, your new cleric. Are you all reading the Qur’an and praying as directed?” They all answered, “Yes Sir” and shook his hand. “Have you been working hard on jihad?” Again they nodded yes. “Tell me about it.” They all were proud that they had followed instructions and stayed out of trouble. “I’m proud of all of you. Let’s all go see our brothers. I need to meet everyone. Is there a van we can take?”

  One of the men said, “None of us have ever driven the van, but there is one in the back parking lot. The key is hanging in the cleric’s office.”

  Bill told everyone to get dressed for work. One of the men was already dressed in street clothing. Bill followed him to the cleric’s office and got the key. He told Bill where the van was parked. “When everyone is dressed, have them meet me at the back door.”

  That gave Bill time to tell the FBI agents what was happening. He would go into the warehouse with the prison converts. The agents would stay clear and give him plenty of space. He pulled the van to the door and soon the six men appeared. “Someone drive. I don’t have a Texas driver’s license yet.” On the way Bill had the men tell them what their jobs would be for jihad. Most of them were helping transfer diesel fuel or dry material to the vehicles. One was going to drive an ambulance, and one of the men was going to drive a fire truck.

  The man next to Bill said quietly, “The fire truck is a ticket to paradise.” He pointed at the man that had taken him to the cleric’s office. This cleric story is working well. I will just walk in with these men and tell them that Malcolm sent me.

  The warehouse was a very large steel building. The van was parked at the main entrance, “First take me to the cleric and introduce me.” They entered the building together and one of the men saw the cleric and pointed to him. The cleric was a large, rough looking man. He was wearing a black robe and turban. As they were walking towards him Bill asked, “Does anyone know where he’s from?”

  “He’s from Sudan.” The men all approached the cleric and Bill extended his hand to the man. Bill introduced himself in perfect Sudanese Arabic. The rough face gave a large smile. Bill told him that he had trained in Iran with Ayatollah Meslem Ali and that Malcolm Akiff had just hired him to help with the jihad.

  “Malcolm hasn’t been briefed by Bryan for a while and he sent me to make sure that everything was in order.”

  Bill looked around at the large number of vehicles and told the cleric he wanted to talk to all of the men. “Where do we pray?” The cleric took Bill to the southeast corner of the building. There was a long table where the men had carefully placed their rolled prayer rug
s. “Will you call the men? I would like to introduce myself.”

  It was almost prayer time and the cleric went to a CD player on the table and turned it on. “Call to prayer in Arabic was played over the speakers.” It took about three minutes for everyone to arrive.

  Bill counted twenty five men. I did this once in Topeka. He reviewed his attack and he really didn’t see much he could improve. I just need to arrest them. They most likely will not know about Tampa. The men that rush me I kill, but the runners I will give leg wounds. I may need to kill this cleric. He will be standing to close me. I will kill the cleric. Maybe that will stop them from rushing me.

  Bill told the cleric to have all the men stand near the table so they could hear him. He needed about twelve feet of separation to drop the rushers. The cleric had his back to Bill and called the men to stand quietly as he introduced a new cleric. Bill took four steps back, drew his Glock 23 from its holster and pulled it through the pocket of his robe. The pistol was behind his back. “I just want to introduce myself with a short sermon. I knew Ayatollah Meslem Ali very well. I’ve eaten dinner with him and, in fact, I was at his bed side when he took his last gasp of air. I also knew Paul Green Jr. who’s also dead. This is a man you do not know, but he gave his life and riches to the Ayatollah Meslem Ali so this jihad could be planned. I knew Henry, who is also dead, and who you also don’t know. He was the person that worked the closest with Ayatollah Meslem Ali. Henry hired a man named Malcolm and the cleric knows Malcolm.” The cleric shook his head yes and was enjoying the sermon. ”Malcolm cut off Henry’s head so this jihad could proceed. I don’t know Bryan, but I am hoping to meet him someday. Now I know you and the cleric, and it’s time that you know me. There has been a lot of blood spilled to this point and in the next several seconds there may be more spilled, and it may be your blood.”

  The calm words of Bill’s sermon were not quickly understood. Bill paused a few seconds and then continued. “I knew all these people that didn’t know you. The Ayatollah Meslem Ali started this jihad a while back. He had two boys raised in Somalia who went to Tampa, Florida and blew themselves up. You’ll have heard of the Tampa Mall bombing. I was there when they killed my sister in the bombing. That is the reason I’m now with you. I want to kill all of you, but if you don’t move and calmly raise your hands, I won’t.” No one moved and they all raised their hands as they were told. He was a little disappointed that he didn’t even get to kill the cleric. “Please, all of you sit on the floor. I have some friends that will want to meet you.” As instructed they all sat on the floor. Now what? Then he saw a door twenty feet to the west of him. He walked backwards to the door and opened it. He did not see anyone, but he waved his arms hoping someone would see him. His FBI men were all at the other side of the building. They were waiting patiently for him to march out his prisoners through the door he had entered.

  Bill returned to his prisoners, who were still quietly sitting on the floor. He was now guarding two dozen terrorists. They all sat there for thirty minutes. What Bill did not know was that they were all under the impression that he was a cleric sent by Malcolm and the real cleric felt that Bill was his senior. The men received the lecture as a sermon, they were all given new instructions and they would do what they were told. Bill heard the sound of a helicopter. The first person to walk through the open door was Ivan. Then the senior FBI agent and his team of eight entered the door. Bill had learned from the AFT scientists about the explosive danger that the warehouse held. He told the senior agent that the building was very dangerous, and that he needed to get everyone outside and far away.

  Shortly, one hundred state and local police, and twenty ambulances arrived. The prisoners were taken away and the ambulances all left empty. Dr. Sims flew off in his helicopter. The ATF scientists then arrived and went into the warehouse in fully self-contained protective suits.

  Bill and Ivan were standing side by side. Ivan said, “You did a very good job, but we need to get to Tampa. They still haven’t found the warehouse there.”

  The ATF scientists reviewed the air measurements they had taken earlier from the warehouse. The senior scientist approached Bill, “Do you remember I told you that the air in the Topeka warehouse was almost explosive? The powerful air conditioning units kept it just below that level.”

  “Yes I do.”

  “The atmosphere in there is very explosive. If you had fired your pistol, the building would have blown. Someone was looking out for you.”

  The senior agent said, “The plane’s waiting for you. I just want to say that I would be proud to work with you two anytime.”

  Scrambling to find the source of the war

  Rooting out evil with every mark

  Finding its soldiers and falling to gore

  As light from inside slips into the dark

  Chapter 27

  Tampa was a madhouse because the FBI and local law enforcement were unable to find the warehouse with its explosive vehicles. The Tampa Peace Mosque was empty when the FBI served the search warrant. The people at Fast Grow, the fertilizer and nitrate producer, were flabbergasted when the FBI showed up. Thirty of their employees were missing and all of them had been hired as part of the prison training program. Most were working in nitrate production and not only were they gone, but they had stolen eleven trucks. Nine of the trucks were full of nitrates. The accounting department was pouring over nitrate sales records and Tampa deliveries. Georgia Haulers was furnishing lease trucks to Fast Grow and the missing drivers had done every local delivery. Georgia Hauler’s trucks were used exclusively and there were no records for any of the Tampa deliveries.

  The Group was now meeting full time at Mac Dill. The General made a statement to the members present, “Bill and Sam were instruments of war and they were never trained to investigate using police methods. They were trained to get information by brute force. American laws prevent this kind of warrior interrogation. I hope that using Bill for this battle doesn’t destroy him.”

  Ivan and Bill landed at Mac Dill and joined the Group in their familiar meeting place. For twenty minutes, the FBI agent delivered the details on the state of the investigation. Over and over, he emphasized the dead ends that were found at the mosque and Fast Grow. Ivan then asked a question, “What are we looking for?”

  Bill knew the answer, “We’re looking for a new warehouse. We’re looking for a new steel warehouse. We’re looking for a big new steel warehouse that was just built somewhere in the Tampa area. There were permits and a company that sold the building and that means sales tax was collected.”

  The Major said, “Let’s concentrate on government.” The county inspectors were contacted and there were only fourteen recently built large steel buildings in Hillsborough County. The list was emailed to the Major.

  Then the General added, “Add the three other surrounding counties.”

  Bill asked to see the list. He had been raised in the area and was looking for a site that was fairly remote, big, new, and steel.

  Ivan had no knowledge of the area, “I’ve become a fan of helicopters. Let’s take the list and go fly to these locations. Maybe by the time we check these, if there’s no success, there will be another list of places we can fly.”

  Before Ivan finished his sentence a large Air Force helicopter was landing fifty feet from the meeting room. It was midnight when the search began and the helicopter had powerful lights that could illuminate the ground structures. Ivan read the first address and the pilot headed directly to the site, but warehouses tend to be on streets that are not commonly known. Even the military GPS was missing many of the addresses. The pilot had six more stops to go at 2:30am local time. Ivan suggested that they get an experienced cab driver to join them in the helicopter, and a call to the Major was placed. The helicopter was given a location to land and a middle aged woman got on board.

  Ivan read an address and the woman said, “Go west. It’s just over the Interstate. Go a little north, there it is.”

  B
ill considered it a possible site and told the pilot to land at the far end of the parking lot. Bill and Ivan left the helicopter. It had real offices in front and it was totally dark. Ivan and Bill kicked in a door and entered with guns drawn, but it was a real business. The helicopter flew from site to site until they had landed at every new steel building on the list. The second county list of new steel buildings was emailed to Ivan’s phone.

  The cab driver called a friend in Pasco County, “He knows the area and is waiting at the truck stop just north of here.” They picked up the cab driver from Pasco County and dropped the woman off. It was now 5am local time and it would only be dark until 7:30am. The General had supplied two more Air Force helicopters for the search of the other counties. He had followed Ivan’s suggestion and added cab driver guides to speed their process. There were only a total of five sites to check in Pasco County.

  The cab driver asked to see the list, “Go to this one. I’ve driven by this place. It’s in the middle of nowhere and is full of rag heads.” Then he looked at Bill who was sitting next to him. The cab driver saw a very large black man in a dingy white robe wearing a turban. “I don’t mean any disrespect.”

  “None taken,” he kissed the cab driver on the cheek. “I want you to land about a quarter mile down wind and let us out. Give us plenty of time to take the place, but get the police there, and tell them to get in close, but they need to go in on foot and be quiet. And buy this guy breakfast.”

  This time they had weapons to fight a battle. Bill carried his Glock 23 and a full size UZI machine gun. Ivan carried an UZI pistol with a silencer and an M16 with a laser site. They both carried night vision goggles. As they approached the new steel building they saw a big green box near the street. It was the utility power connection box. There was light coming from two small, widely spaced windows on the long side wall of the warehouse they were approaching. Ivan fired rounds into the green power box until the light went out in the windows. The UZI pistol with a silencer did the job nicely. They put on their goggles and approached a side door. Ivan tried to open the door, but it was locked. He raised the UZI and emptied the rest of his clip into the dead bolt lock and Bill pulled the door open.