Islam Rising

by Johnny Jacks

  Ramirez’s anger was palpable. “I thought you were taking control of your life! Patriots, responsible leaders, men of integrity and faith, tactical experts, defenders—men like you are exactly what this country needs! This is not post WWII America when patriotism was at an all-time high.”

  “Yes, sir. But President Crump inherited a monster executive branch. It’s bulging with two million employees. Add a million government contract workers, all buried in a thousand departments and agencies and that gives you an idea of the enormity of the problem. He needs time to clear out the excess.”

  Ramirez shook his head. “The excess is more than you think. The only thing that will prevent the collapse of our economic system is for Crump to eliminate seventy-five percent of the executive branch and turn the social welfare system back to the states, the way it was before President Johnson’s so called Great Society programs. We both know that’s not gonna happen.”

  “Hadn’t thought of that. I doubt Crump has such insight. He’s talking a twenty percent cut through attrition, but if you’re correct, that’s over fifty percent too little.”

  Ramirez nodded. “You’re getting it. The executive branch is an army of bureaucrats fortified with laws that give them the power to regulate almost every aspect of our lives. That allows a president, like Obama, to rule like a king instead of a servant of the people. I agree that Crump is trying to do the right thing, but when the progressives regain power, they will destroy this nation.”

  “I guess I see why you’re a prepper, but how are a bunch of off-the-grid doomsday nuts going to save the world?”

  Ramirez, his jaws tight, twirled his bottle on the table a few seconds then focused his laser beam on Grayson. “Don’t let me ever hear you say doomsday nuts again. You’re showing your stupidity and about to get an ass-whupping.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Ramirez spoke in measured beats. “The world can end in many ways. Each would produce horrific results, but they aren’t what keep me awake at night. Economic collapse is a given. Islamic terrorists infiltrating our country and getting a toehold is as threatening. You’re a guerrilla fighter. If either of us led the jihadists, we could destroy America’s electrical grid and oil refineries with a well-planned and executed guerrilla operation. Those bastards slither in like microscopic bacteria, infecting the native body and killing indiscriminately: babies, children, aged, women, men, you name it.”

  Grayson ruminated on the chief’s prophecy from a previous discussion. “Nuclear war, super volcanoes, electromagnetic pulse, economic collapse, coronal mass ejection, and asteroids are old news, some millions of years old. I’m struggling to see the urgency.”

  “I was very skeptical, too, the first time Mark approached me. When you talk to Mark, he’ll scare your balls hairless. Pay close attention to what he says about the Islamization of Western Civilization. It’s already spreading rapidly across Europe.” Ramirez slapped the table. “Enough of this crap. What are your plans for the immediate future?”

  “It occurred to me when I was lying in my sleeping bag in Death Valley gazing at billions of stars, each with a different story, that my life needs a different story. I’ve decided to move on, but right now I can’t see a fork in the road to take.”

  “Mama and I will pray for you, son.”

  “Thanks, Chief. Guess I’d better give you the paper copy of my report and get on home. Got a lot of packing and moving to storage to do tomorrow.”

  “Damned if I won’t miss your ugly face around the office.”

  ~~~

  On the way home, Grayson mulled over random elements of his existence. Last year, his life’s plan lay neat and clean in front of him. Retire after thirty years on the force, write a book or two, do some consulting, and travel with Margaret once the kids were through college. In less than thirty minutes, almost a year ago, that door permanently slammed shut. His sour mood rode home with him. Damn if he wasn’t like Shannon and her multiple personalities!

  Less than an hour ago, he was a new man, the chief’s hero; now he was navel gazing again. He threw his jacket over a kitchen chair, dumped himself into his recliner, and kicked off his shoes. He needed to relax but his emotions roared in his ears. He slammed his fists into the recliner’s arms. “You arrogant prick! Your life is an abyss. Sleeping with the enemy was another bad decision! You’re a real winner, Grayson Dean!”

  Lust had caught him unprepared in Vegas and traveled home with him. That infamous night repeatedly played in his tortured mind, mixed with abstract images of Margaret staring sadly at him.

  Nights gnawed at him. He had to face the ugly truth. He killed his wife and slept with the wife of another man, a woman he still longed for. He had never felt so many opposing emotions in his life.

  “Asshole, you have to get in a confessional booth and soon.” I can’t go to confession until I’m 100 percent sorry for my sin and no longer want her.

  You never know when a snake will rise to greet you, and your life ain’t worth nothing.

  Chapter 22

  Bug Out To Where?

  Year 1

  Ramirez led the MAG meetup in the Pledge of Allegiance and gave the opening prayer. “We closed the last meetup with the problem of finding a BOL. If we can’t afford to buy a place, we’ll have no choice but to start looking for a larger and more lucrative MAG to join.”

  Nine pairs of disbelieving eyes met his gaze.

  “The future of our heirs and our country depends on people like us making the hard decisions.”

  Grayson looked pensively at Ramirez. Here goes nothing, but then, what do I have to lose. “What do you think about me purchasing the farmhouse Joe described last meetup, with a few acres, and the rest of you purchase the remaining land? The undeveloped land would be affordable for you as a group, and we could improve it together over time.”

  Everyone sat up straight and gave him their undivided attention.

  “We’re all ears, Grayson,” Yolanda said.

  “It’s no secret my days on the force are numbered. Next month marks the first anniversary of Margaret and Amanda’s deaths, and I prefer to resign before then. I’ve toyed with the idea of finding another job, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Buying the farm is a good option for me…and for Daniel.”

  Joe smiled. “Partner, we want you as an integral part of our team, not our sugar daddy.”

  Grayson smiled. “No sugar daddy here. I pay for my part; you pay for yours. The land without buildings should be affordable to you. I’d like to check out the property, and if it looks doable, I’ll purchase the farmhouse, and, say, ten acres to live on. You guys pool your funds and purchase the land around it. I’ll be the caretaker, so to speak, and we’ll share the cost of developing the whole property into our BOL.”

  “Where do we start?” Pablo asked.

  “I’m not sure. We’ll let a lawyer iron out the purchase details. You finance your individual rustic shelters, and we’ll work together to obtain the other things over time. Mark, as I understand it, we’ll be building a small town from scratch, so a lot will be needed.”

  “You’re on the right track, Grayson.”

  “Stocking two years of food for each person by itself will cost a fortune,” Yolanda said.

  Samuel shrugged. “Forget food. The off-grid power and communications systems will eat up most of our money, not to mention a tractor and tools, a water treatment system. I don’t want to back out, but I’m not sure a bunch of low-paid cops can pull this off.”

  Yeung, a chowhound, looked at Samuel. “You can forget food, but that tops my list!”

  Mark called for quiet. “Do y’all want to continue talking about how we can’t do this or do you want to figure a way we can do it? Developing a BOL piece by piece spread over a couple of years is easy if we apply our own labor to the task.”

  Embarrassed faces and silence followed until it became too uncomfortable.

  “I say ‘Hell Yes’ to Grayson’s proposal!” Samuel ignited an explosi
on of excitement.

  Charles raised his hand. “I’m in. Course, Grayson, we may all be living up there, sleeping on the floor, as our savings dwindle.”

  Yolanda, ever positive and ready to do her part, added her thoughts. “We’ll get our BOL in good shape with some elbow grease. Who knows what tomorrow will bring but with President Crump in office, we should have at least two years, and possibly six, before the progressives can regain a toehold and lead us back to the Obama days.”

  Yeung gave Grayson the thumbs-up sign. “If I can spread the cost over several years, I’m in. With that much land we can grow and preserve our two-year supply of food without having to get second mortgages on our homes.”

  Joe worried about Grayson’s history of impulsiveness. “You’re sure?”

  Grayson nodded. “I need a new home and plenty to keep me busy. The farm is a great option.”

  Yolanda grabbed Grayson in a hug. “Thanks for solving our problem, big guy.”

  Ramirez quietly watched the scene between friends and coworkers play out. He and Grace exchanged a silent message. They prayed daily that Grayson would find what he truly wanted. Their unofficially adopted son had suffered immeasurable loss and insult and carried broad new emotional scars. They’d watched him carefully as he teetered on a precipice over the past eleven months and prayed he would regain his balance.

  “I guess you can count Mama and me in, too.”

  “You guess?” Grayson asked, incredulous.

  Ramirez frowned. “Why don’t you take some time to think about this? Let things settle down then come back with a decision.”

  Eyes rolled, and a low groan rose from the group.

  “Chief, settled hasn’t been a part of my life for too long. I want a new life, new goals, and a place to belong. You guys are my family now, and this is what I want to do.”

  “Are you absolutely sure, son?” Miss Grace asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Grayson gave Joe a knowing look. “It seems the answer found me.” He turned to the group. “Get busy and figure out how much money you have to spend. Won’t do me any good to go shopping if I don’t know what’s in the purse. I’ll ride up to the farm Joe looked at, see what the property offers.”

  “I’ll ride with you,” Joe said.

  Grayson agreed and Ramirez took the reins.

  “Everybody call Grayson and tell him the amount you can add to the kitty. Meet up adjourned.”

  Chapter 23

  The Perfect BOL

  Year 2

  The first anniversary of the accident had come and gone. Grayson cleared the hurdle but not without the accompanying pain. It still rode high in the back of his mind, but his shoulders relaxed as they passed through the Texas countryside. It had a good feel to it. The friends took pleasure in the break from their chaotic lives. Grayson’s new Ford F-250 floated over the newly paved highway and the May weather was perfect, making the drive to check out the farm pleasant.

  “I like your new toy, Partner. Looks like you got every option they offered.”

  “Pretty much. I’m glad to have your company on this trip.”

  “It’s a pleasure riding shotgun with you. It seems a lifetime ago that we patrolled the streets of Houston.”

  Grayson laughed. “Yeah. The chief wouldn’t promote me to detective until I had my time on the streets. Joe, I was amazed that my best friend and coworkers were able to keep the MAG a secret from me. Of course, I did the same thing with Margaret when deployed on classified UW missions.”

  “UW?”

  “Unconventional Warfare. You probably know it as guerrilla warfare. Operations security—they call it OPSEC in the Army—will be a vital element in MAG operations. What took you guys so long to invite me into the group?”

  Joe stared out the passenger window. “You’re right. Guerilla warfare is important.”

  “You’ve got something on your mind?”

  They rode a few miles before Joe replied. “Since you respect the truth, that’s what I’ll give you. You can be a hothead. The chief was adamant that you become involved in the MAG, said you were the best special ops guy he knew. But it wasn’t until Mark told us your transformation after the incident with Weber that we decided you might be ready.”

  The way Joe moved his jaw and stared straight ahead in contemplation told Grayson he had more to say.

  Joe’s voice bore an apology. “We wanted to bring you into the MAG much sooner. You’re a great team leader and nobody matches your insights and problem-solving ability, but sometimes your anger gets in the way.”

  “Like the day I forced Murtadha to smash into Margaret and Amanda.”

  Joe caught himself just before spitting an annoyed retort. “You know that’s not what I meant. Anyway, you’re with us now. We really need your help, and I’m not talking about money. Hell, I don’t think any of us knew you had two nickels to rub together. We need your leadership and the tactical skills you can teach us to keep our families alive.”

  “I understand the MAG’s reluctance. I also know how far I’ve come in a short time. So much has happened this year. I’ve had trouble getting perspective on the future. I don’t think I’ll ever get past losing Margaret and Amanda,” Grayson’s voice tightened, “and Danny’s rejection of me.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything different. You and Margaret were each other’s better half. It’s easy to see how losing her makes you feel like a ship without a rudder. Danny will mature and come around one day. Here’s some unsolicited advice: Keep your eyes on the path before you. Looking back will do nothing but cause you to stumble and miss the good things in front of you.”

  They drove another half hour before Grayson’s emotions let him break the silence. “Joe, you lived in other countries in the Air Force. What’s your take on America ending up in the dust heap of history, just another scumbag country too miserable to contemplate living in?”

  “America is the greatest country on Earth. Too bad most of our citizens don’t appreciate what they have. We go about our lives unaware of the misery of billions of people living on the edge of survival, where, if you don’t work today, you don’t eat today. It terrifies me that my family could end up in that same dung heap.”

  “One of my greatest feelings is seeing the American shoreline from thirty thousand feet when returning from an extended tour in some soulless land, dog-tired from travel. It gave me energy and hope. Just hours before, my mind locked in a filthy shithole on the other side of the world, hell breaking loose everywhere, the end nowhere in sight, and then America comes into view. It’s one of the strangest feelings I ever experienced, like I think entering Heaven will be.”

  “I agree and hope Mark’s right about the remaining ten percent being mostly Christians, the ones who’ll rebuild on the base our founding fathers created.”

  Grayson checked his watch. “We’ll be at the BOL in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Get in the habit of calling it the farm. Our cover story with locals is we’re purchasing the farm to grow organic vegetables, raise chemical-free meat, and have a place for hunting and fishing.”

  Grayson nodded. “Gotcha.”

  “We’ve been scrutinizing the area for the past year, traveling within a twenty-mile radius, each visiting different churches, restaurants, etc., to gather Intel. We received warm welcomes everywhere. Low crime rate. Neighborhoods are clean and well kept. It’s a great part of the country.”

  Grayson laughed. “Sounds like a Special Forces operation. Chief Ramirez—the old guerrilla fighter—is still at it!”

  “I think you’ll like the BOL ideas we drafted before you came onboard. When you see all the features, it will curl your toes. The old couple that owned this property passed away, and their one surviving child doesn’t want anything to do with it. He’s in debt up to his neck, so he needs to grab the money and run. We can get it all—tractors, farm machinery, implements, and livestock. A neighbor is taking care of the animals. It has a huge barn, and the farmhouse is something y
ou see on a picture postcard. It needs minor repairs but is generally in great shape.”

  “After that build-up, I might make an offer today.”

  “Grayson, like the chief said, don’t be impulsive. And if you don’t mind me getting personal, how can you qualify for a mortgage without having a job?”

  “You’re my best friend, Joe. I don’t mind you asking. Margaret and I saved enough over the years to purchase a farm outright, to get back to our roots and all that. With her passing, I received enough from life insurance to be set for life, paid double indemnity for accidents. After taking care of Daniel and Louise, I can still help the MAG survive the collapse. I want to use the money to help others. It’s what Margaret would want.”

  “That’s admirable, but you don’t have to atone for the accident. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Grayson’s gritted his teeth. “Screw you! I’ll feel any damn way I want!”

  Joe didn’t flinch. “It can take two years or more to move forward and accept the unexpected death of a loved one. If you don’t drop that baggage you’re toting, you’ll be stuck in the past forever. Margaret would kick your butt.”

  Clenched jaws revealed Grayson’s agony. “You a shrink now?”

  “You’re my best friend too. I’m trying to help pull you out of that hog wallow of self-pity you insist on rolling in.”

  “Is this that tough love shit your wife talks about?”

  “Call it what you want. Sit up straight and be a man. Whatever was in the past was then, but this is now. Grayson, you’ve slipped from being one of the most confident, decisive leaders I’ve ever known into something I don’t recognize, almost a self-pitying wuss. Remain pigheaded, and you’ll find yourself forever on the outside of life looking in.”

  The veins in Grayson’s neck distended from Joe’s slap in the face and the truth of what he had become. His instinctive reaction was to counterattack, but it’s impossible to retaliate against truth—a fool’s mission. They drove in silence as Grayson clenched his jaw and fought to rein in his damnable anger.