Malone pulled out his cell phone and punched in the telephone number for Salidin.
“Obey Ohmshidi,” Salidin answered.
“Obey Ohmshidi. This is Jamal,” Malone said, using his Muslim name. “Allah hu akbar! It is done.”
Walter Dent had watched the entire massacre, unable to do a thing to prevent it. He stayed hidden until Malone and the others left, then he went into the camp, hoping to find someone alive. He knew, even before he started looking, that it would be fruitless. He had watched, helplessly, as Malone and the others finished off each of their victims with a shot to the head. He realized that he was lucky they hadn’t done the same thing to the other members of the patrol.
Going into Captain Lumsden’s office, he found a radio, and put through a call to Major Tobin. As he was waiting for Tobin to come to the radio, he saw, on the wall, a picture of the little girl after whom the camp was named, and he felt a lump in his throat.
“This is Major Tobin.”
“Captain Lumsden is dead,” Dent said. “Everyone is dead.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Philadelphia
Ann McPherson and Sally Mosley had been in jail for six weeks now, and Sally was beginning to have serious bouts of morning sickness, with vomiting, diarrhea, and weight loss.
“I have read about this,” Ann said. “I think you are having something called hyperemesis gravi-darum. It is a particularly virulent type of morning sickness. You should be in a hospital.”
“Women are not allowed to go to the hospital, you know that,” Sally replied, her voice so weak that it could barely be heard.
“Then you need to get out of jail so you can go home. You need rest, and you need to keep yourself hydrated.”
“Believe me, I want nothing more in the world, than to go home. But there is nothing I can do about that.”
“Maybe you can’t,” Ann said. “But I believe I can.”
“Let me understand this,” Major Fatih said, after Ann was brought to him. “You are willing to confess your guilt?”
“Yes, I have prayed to Allah, and I feel that I must do this if I am to be blessed.”
“All right, what do you confess?”
“The first thing I confess is that Sally Mosley is innocent. She knew nothing about what her husband, my brother, and I were doing.”
“How is it that she could not know? She was married to Carl Mosley.”
“Yes, she was married to him. But I was sleeping with him.”
Fatih looked up in surprise at the words. “You were committing adultery with another woman’s husband?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you confessing this now?”
“Because she is in the cell next to my cell and as I see her there, the guilt of what I have done is heavy on my heart. I have prayed to Allah, and I believe I must confess these sins so that when I go to heav . . . I mean paradise, I will do so with an unburdened heart.”
“But you will not go to paradise,” Fatih said. “You have committed the sin of adultery. You will go to hell.”
“Then, if I am to go to hell, I will know that, by confessing my sin and clearing Sally’s name, I will leave this earth having done the right thing.”
The White House
That evening Ohmshidi and Franken were in the Yellow Oval sitting room of the presidential quarters, watching television. On a table between them was a silver platter filled with naan berenji, a rice and poppyseed cookie. Earlier, Franken had told Ohmshidi that the news program tonight would be of special interest, and that he might enjoy watching it.
Ohmshidi picked up a cookie and began eating as the program opened with a full screen shot of the new national flag, The words CMN, America Enlightened Truth Television were keyed onto the screen, replaced by the words Obey Ohmshidi, then a reverent voice over intoned the opening lines.
“All praise be to Allah, the merciful.
Whomsoever Allah guides there is none to misguide, and whomsoever Allah misguides there is none to guide. You must live your life in accordance with the Moqaddas Sirata, the Holy Path. Those who do will be blessed. Those who do not will be damned.
“You are watching CMN.”
The newscaster, a bearded man, was staring directly into the camera.
“And now, the news. Our viewers may remember last month that there were a series of seemingly unrelated incidents where, in a dozen university assembly halls across the nation, more than two thousand students who had gathered to praise Allah, were mysteriously killed. At first it was believed that the deaths were purely accidental, caused by toxic fumes which were the result of some abnormality in the ventilation system.
“Upon further investigation, however, the Janissaries, working under the guidance of our Glorious Leader, President for Life Mehdi Ohmshidi, may he be blessed by Allah, have discovered that the two thousand deaths at a dozen universities were, in fact, not unrelated incidents. They were, instead, wanton acts of murder, committed by Ron McPherson and Carl Mosley. McPherson and Mosley were themselves killed, caught up in their own nefarious activity. Now it has been learned that Ann McPherson, the sister of Ron McPherson, not only took part in the murders, but also committed adultery with Mosley.
“Equally guilty was Carl Mosley’s wife, Sally.
“Both women have been tried and sentenced to death by beheading. So that their heinous crimes be made a lesson to any others who might consider such a thing, their beheadings were taped and are now presented as a public service.
“Obey Ohmshidi.”
The picture on the screen showed the two women bound and gagged, standing side by side. Their eyes were open wide, and their faces reflected the fear of the moment.
Standing to one side was a bare-chested and muscular-looking man. The man was wearing a black hood.
“Allah hu akbar!” someone shouted off camera, and the muscle-bound man made a wide, sweeping swing of the scimitar against the neck of Sally Mosley. Her head was completely severed and her body, with blood gushing from the stump of her neck, fell forward. Her head rolled away from the body.
The executioner stepped up to Ann, who closed her eyes tightly.
“Allah hu akbar!”
Again, the executioner swung the scimitar. This time the head came forward, but the body fell backward.
Laying down the scimitar, the executioner grabbed the two heads by the hair, then held them up, allowing the camera to come in close, focusing on them one at a time.
“These naan berenji are very good,” Ohmshidi said, picking up a second cookie. “Have another.”
“Thank you, Glorious Leader,” Franken said.
“Major Ahib Fatih, in charge of the Janissaries who broke this case had this comment to make,” the newscaster said.
The picture on screen was that of Fatih.
“Let this be a lesson to all who would violate the law of Moqaddas Sirata. We will find you, and we will punish you.”
“See to it that Major Fatih is given a medal,” Ohmshidi said.
“Yes, Glorious Leader.”
Now the picture onscreen was of a somber-looking walled compound.
“You are looking at what was once a cotton oil mill, now converted into a prison in the town of Tanner, just outside Sikeston, Missouri.
“At the moment its only prisoner is Dr. Taylor Urban. Urban, in violation of Moqaddas Sirata, was discovered to be treating women patients. When investigators went to the scene to question Dr. Urban, they found him with a woman, fondling her naked breasts. Dr. Urban was placed in prison until Imam Tahir could make a final decision as to his case. It is now known that Imam Tahir has made that decision, and Dr. Urban will be required to pay the ultimate penalty. His execution, as was the execution of the two women just shown, will be watched by millions of viewers. Here is a statement from Imam Tahir.”
The picture on screen changed to that of a man with dark hair and beard, wearing traditional Muslim clothing.
“It is my sincere belief that public
executions play an important role in preventing future violations of the law. Therefore it is my sentence that on August first, at one o’clock in the afternoon, local time, Dr. Urban will be beheaded. His beheading will not be the mere tape of a previous event, but will be televised as it is happening. I think the impact of seeing such a thing happen in real time will do much to bring the rest of the country under the just laws of Moqaddas Sirata. Obey Ohmshidi!”
The next images to show on the screen were of the Civic Center in Mobile, Alabama.
“These pictures were lifted from the pirate broadcast of the heretical rebels who are illegitimately meeting in Mobile, Alabama. These apostates are making the false claim that they are founding a new nation. But the government of the American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment does not acknowledge this. We show you these pictures, only so that our viewers may be aware of the traitors who are in our very midst.”
The picture on the screen showed several men and women greeting each other in front of the Convention Center. The camera moved in on the sign.
Welcome to the UNITED FREE AMERICA
CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION
“Why are they showing these pictures?” Ohmshidi asked angrily. “Get them off the screen at once. And warn them never to show such pictures again!”
Franken made a telephone call and within seconds, the pictures of the constitutional convention taking place in Mobile were gone from the screen.
“Uh, and that concludes our broadcast,” the clearly nervous news anchor said. “Obey Ohmshidi.”
Fort Morgan
After the constitution with the additional amendments and the platform were voted on and adopted came the business of getting a new country started. Bob was chairing the meeting, which consisted of Jake and Karen, Tom and Sheri Jack, Deon Pratt and Julie Norton, Marcus and Becky Warner, Chris Carmack and Kathy York, James and Cille DeLaney, and Willie Stark.
“You, here, represent the core group . . . the ones who started everything. So I don’t believe there can be any discussion of organizing the nation of United Free America without your participation.”
At that moment, Barbara Carter stepped into the meeting room. “Excuse the interruption, but there is a phone call for General Lantz.”
“Tell whoever it is that I’ll call back,” Jake said.
“It’s Governor Wallace from South Carolina,” Barbara said. “He said it was urgent.”
“Take the call, Jake. We won’t get started until you get back,” Bob promised.
Jake nodded, then excused himself.
A moment later he came back into the room with a pained look on his face.
“What is it, Jake?”
“A rebel firebase in South Carolina was just wiped out.”
“State Protective Service?”
“No, it was locals.”
“Locals?”
“Evidently they had recruited, armed, and trained some locals, and they turned on them,” Jake said.
“Damn, that doesn’t sound good, to have your own people turn on you. How reliable is this information?”
“Very reliable. It seems that before they attacked the firebase, they turned on their own men who wouldn’t join them. One of them survived, then got hold of Major Tobin who is the area commander. Tobin took a team over to check it out and found them all dead.”
“How did you hear about it?”
Jake nodded toward the other room. “That was the governor of South Carolina on the phone. He wants to talk to you, by the way. He left a number for us to call.”
“All right, have Willie make the connection, and pipe it in here on the speaker phone.
No more than a minute later, Willie knocked on the door.
“Mr. President, General, I’ve got Governor Wallace on the phone.”
“Thanks, Willie.” Bob pushed the button on the speaker. “Governor Wallace, Bob Varney here.”
“Thank you for taking my call,” Wallace said. “I’m sure you’ve heard what happened here. We lost several good men today.”
“Yes, we just got the word,” Bob said. “I’m sorry for your loss, and for the families of the men who were killed.”
“The reason I wanted to talk to you, Mr. President, is because I’m wondering what sort of military support you can give us.”
“Are you asking to join our federation?” Bob asked.
There was a long pause at the other end of the conversation. “I wish I could say that. I wish we had been able to send a delegation,” he said. “But right now our state is very heavily divided . . . almost half didn’t want to secede in the first place. And there is no stronger evidence for that than the fact that Captain Lumsden and his team were killed by other South Carolinians, men that we had armed and trained. And of the sixty percent or so who were willing to secede, there is almost an even split against joining any other federation.
“What I was hoping for was, perhaps, a military aid program of some sort, you know, allies, like England and the US during World War Two.”
“I’m going to let General Lantz handle that question, Larry,” Bob said.
“Governor, this is Jake Lantz.”
“Yes, we just spoke, it’s good to speak with you again.”
“Here is our problem, Governor. As I’m sure you may realize we have only just begun to consolidate our scattered military assets into one cohesive army. So committing troops right now isn’t practical. I hope that soon we will be able to do that. In the meantime I have a suggestion. We have quite a large inventory of UAV Predators. If you are willing to allow it, I can establish a UAV presence over your state.”
“Yes!” Governor Wallace said. “Yes, thank you! That would be wonderful!”
“All right, I’ll get that set up.”
“Governor, it’s me again,” Bob said.
“Yes, Mr. President?”
“I know that you don’t think you can convince your entire state to join us, but we plan to meet again on October 15th. Perhaps you might send a nonvoting delegation to that meeting to observe.”
“Yes, I would love to,” Governor Wallace said. “October 15th, Mobile?”
“Yes.”
“We will have a delegation there, and again, I thank you.”
“You are very welcome, Governor,” Bob said. “And, in the meantime, see what you can do to convince those who are opposed to the notion that joining with us, in full partnership with the other states, might be a good thing for you to do.”
“I am fully convinced,” Governor Wallace said. “And I will see what I can do about bringing others on board, at least enough to give us a majority.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
When the conversation ended, Bob punched the speaker off, then looked at Jake.
“Where are you getting the Predators? Fort Gordon?” he asked.
“Yes, we have fifteen of them there.”
“Good. It sounds like you’ve got the situation well in hand. So let’s get back to business here. How are we going to organize our government?”
“What’s wrong with the way we were organized?” Ellen asked. “And by we, I mean the United States.”
Ellen Varney was a retired school teacher who had taught Geography, History, and Civics. She had also been very much a political wonk and saw the danger Ohmshidi represented when he first started running.
“Be more specific,” Bob said.
“I’m talking about the three branches of government. Executive, legislative, and judicial. And the legislative branch should be bicameral.”
“Bi what?” James asked.
“Bicameral,” Ellen explained. “Two bodies of the legislature, a house and a senate.”
“Sounds good,” Tom said. “For the president, are we going to have an electoral college, or direct election?”
“Since we adopted the U.S. Constitution as our constitution, we are locked into an electoral college,” Bob said. “Article Two, Section One. It would take an amendment to change it, and that wasn’t one
of the amendments we proposed.”
“I think the electoral college would be better, anyway,” Jake said. “In order to run a national election, someone would have to have real name recognition. George Gregoire is about the only person we know with that kind of reputation, and I think he would serve us better as our spokesman, than our president.”
“And I think he would agree with you,” Chris said.
“I think Bob should be our George Washington,” Tom said.
“I can keep my own teeth, can’t I?” Bob asked, and the others laughed. “Look, I don’t mind serving as president while we are getting everything started, but I would like the position to be temporary. When we are actually ready to hold our first election, I don’t intend to run.”
“Maybe we can get you to change your mind,” Jerry said.
“Uh-uh,” Bob replied. “I will pull a General Sherman on you. If nominated I will not run, if elected I will not serve.”
“Damn,” Jerry said with a laugh. “Did Sherman really say that?”
“He did indeed.”
“I’d say that is a pretty definite no, wouldn’t you?” Karen said.
“All right, Bob, we won’t nominate you.”
“What about a flag?” Sheri asked. “We can’t have a country without a flag.”
“We’ve got one,” Jake said. “It’s called the Stars and Stripes.”
“No, we’re a new country, we should have a new flag,” Kathy said.
“Why? Most of us here served the Stars and Stripes with honor and pride,” Jake said. “I wouldn’t like to see it cast aside.”
“Yeah, and if you all remember, when we buried Sergeant Major Clayton Matthews the Third, he was holding the flag over his heart,” Deon said.2
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