by Ryan Garner
….
Nasir Malik Zahir Kamil approached Darren from behind as he sat smoking a cigarette on one of the pier's benches. He paused briefly behind him before moving around to sit beside him. Both men briefly sat in silence for several seconds until Kamil finally spoke.
“Everything on my end has been made ready. The buildings are secure and my people are in position.” he said in his thick Arabic accent.
“Do you still have control of the package?” Darren asked. Kamil immediately shot him a disapproving glance at the possible insinuation that he might not be in total control of his portion of the plan.
“Of course I do...” he said curtly.
“Good...” Darren responded in a higher pitched and maniacal tone. “We are prepared as well.”
“How will you start the events that are needed before my people can begin?” Kamil asked.
“I have a few ways planned; for starters my associates have already begun to spread numerous rumors among many members of the minority communities and other low income groups via social media and other outlets that budgetary cuts suggested by Conservative Republican members of government will quickly and drastically reduce the pay of their welfare, EBT, and other governmental assistance programs. We’ve said that it is likely their governmentally controlled assistance programs which give the majority of them the bulk of their income may even be cut out completely. Basically we’ve told them they will be forced to find work or starve.” Darren smirked slightly after finishing his sentence since the statements were entirely fabricated, but the lie was necessary for the “greater good” and when taking the grand scheme of things into mind the end always justified the means.
In actuality no current standing member of the State of North Carolina or federal government would ever dare touch entailment programs. Doing so would mean political suicide, if not from the general public, then from President Jordan himself. Not only this, but for all intents and purposes there were no more “Conservative Republicans” left within the federal or state government. A few county and municipal leaders here and there, but no one that could actually do anything about federally or state funded social programs. The obvious exception to all of this was of course Texas, but that information was inconsequential for the moment. However, this did not stop Darren or his associates from using conservatives as the perfect scapegoat for their inflammatory and deceptive lies. Texas's secession from the union was a perfect opportunity to show the various minority communities that the supposed rise of right wing extremism was back in full swing within the United States.
Kamil raised his eyebrows slightly. “I am sure the appropriate people within your community will respond with their usual violent acknowledgment to such information.”
Darren nodded as he continued. “My contacts within the media who are sympathetic to our cause will also help to further intensify the rumors on their end. However, we’ve found that social networks are the most effective way to spread information such as this to the youth culture. It is of utmost importance to get them involved with this situation.”
“Nothing angers the members of your entitlement community like the prospect of having to work for their living.” Kamil remarked.
“It is merely a means to an end, the rich, elite, right wing fanatics would eventually do exactly what we have charged if they were given the chance.” Darren responded and then added, “When this is all over and all oppressive forms of government are swept aside we will have a democracy of the people. Each person will properly benefit both according to his abilities and according to his needs.”
“I have heard the saying, two wolves and one sheep deciding what's for dinner; is this what you mean?” Kamil asked in a somewhat sarcastic tone which immediately drew a disdainful look from Darren.
“No, not at all.” he said, “We should all live in a classless society, an egalitarian society with absolutely no social hierarchy; a society where the rich, elite 1% can no longer make decisions for the overburdened 99% of society. Wealth will be evenly distributed to all and the state and aristocratic individuals will no longer control the ownership of things such as property. Fortunes and assets will be fairly divided up between everyone through a means of voluntary association where each individual will in turn freely contribute to production and to the satisfaction of their own needs based on their own choices. The systems of their production and distribution would be managed by all the people. With the diffusing of wealth a person and society as a whole would be free to engage in whatever activities they found most fulfilling and would no longer be forced by our controlling government or the rich 1% into a job for which they had neither the temperament nor the ability to perform. Society would be controlled by the majority and for the people themselves.”
Kamil raised one eyebrow in a suspecting manner. Darren's theory of government sounded like a childish form of communism or socialism to him, but in the end it did not matter. Soon enough Darren and his associates would convert or die and the world would finally come under the control of a proper Islamic Republic. A world where Allah and Mohamed would be praised and Zionist and Jewish ideals would be slashed by the powerful sword of Islam. This being the case Kamil did not bother to quarrel with the details of Darren's misguided and confused beliefs. In the end he would either be with Islam or he would die.
“It sounds like a glorious utopian society.” Kamil said in a sly voice.
“It will be.” Darren responded. “Once we have rid ourselves of all of our...” he paused briefly as he glanced over at Kamil. “...opposition.”
He knew that Kamil was merely humoring him, but it didn't matter, Darren was using this radical Islamist as another means to an end. Soon he and all his insane followers would either be wiped out or concede control to the true one world government of the people that was being ushered into existence. Either way, Darren would not have to deal with this maniac for much longer.
The two men continued to sit quietly next to each other listening to the waves crashing against the concrete pillars of the pier and staring out into the ocean. Each one working out his own separate plot against the other while at the same time including him in a plan to help assist with their plan to destroy the American society.
….
“I axed you a question!!!” Daeshawnda Grace, a corpulent African American female in her late thirties dressed in a faded and stretched lime green t-shirt and skin tight jeans that appeared to have strained every fiber to its breaking point shouted at Chris as she waved her flabby, giggling right arm at him.
“Watch you gonna do to get his lazy, no good, cheat'n, mother fuck'n ass out'a ma house?!!” she then exclaimed.
Chris stood speechless for a moment not quite sure how to respond.
“I ain't go’in nowhere.” Clifton Howard, an African American male of average height and build who appeared to be in his mid-forties responded. He defiantly crossed his legs and sat back on the dirty old couch located inside the run down government subsidized Section 8 housing unit.
“Oh, hell no...” Daeshawnda stated as she took another step towards Chris. “I wants him out'a my house and I wants him out now! That's why I called ya'll down here!”
“Well, uh, ma'am...” Chris stuttered slightly unsure of his wording. “There's not much we can do since you willingly allowed him to start living here with you.”
“Can't ya'll arrest him for like trespassing or somethin like that?!”
“No ma'am...” Chris responded as he took a half step away from Daeshawnda as she took another step towards him, practically following him around.
“By law this would still be considered his residence as well since you allowed him to be added to the renter’s agreement paperwork; so he's not trespassing and no crime has occurred. There's not much we can do.”
“Well then he assaulted me! Arrest him for assault!” Daeshawnda immediately and loudly declared as she glared at Clifton.
“Oh, fuck no!” Clifton responded and immediately jumped u
p from his couch. “I ain't touched you bitch, you the one whose always lay’n hands on me.” Clifton said as he began to advance towards Daeshawnda and Chris.
“Sir, have a seat, now!” Morrisey barked as he pointed his finger at Clifton and quickly stepped in front of Chris. Clifton seemed to be shocked by the sudden and forceful command and he immediately sat back down. Morrisey then turned his attention to Daeshawnda.
“Look we're not playing this game anymore.” he said as he frowned at her. “You're the one that invited him to come live with you after only knowing him for what was it, a month? So you're going to have to be the one to go down to the Sheriff's Department and file for an eviction along with getting his name taken off the renter’s agreement.”
“But, I don't want him liv'n here no more. He doesn't pay no rent or noth’n he just sits on his ass all day watch'n TV...That is when he's not fuck'n my sister!” she blared.
“There's nothing I can help you with in regards to that Ms. Grace.” Morrisey said trying to sound calm, but growing more annoyed by the second. “Once you invited him to live here this became his house as well and we can't go kicking people out of their own homes for no good reason at all.” Daeshawnda looked at Morrisey with a confused look.
“Look...” he said. “There's not a lot we can do as this is pretty much a civil matter that is outside our realm of authority. What I suggest is that you two avoid each other for the rest of the night...sleep in separate rooms if you have to and in the morning when you're both cooled off you can either try to work things out or you can go down to the New Hanover County Sheriff's Office and start the process of filing eviction paperwork.”
Chris stood quietly next to Morrisey as he continued to talk. “That’s about the only thing I can advise you to do at this point, but I can assure you that if we keep getting called back to this residence for no good reason someone is going to jail for something because I've got a dozen other calls that we need to be at... Now do you think you two can get along for the rest of the night?” Morrisey asked.
“Yeah...yeah I guess, as long as he doesn't bother me no more.” Daeshawnda said seeming to calm down a bit. Morrisey and Chris then looked over at Clifton awaiting his response. He shrugged his shoulders and grunted something unintelligible. He immediately received a stern and austere stare from Morrisey.
“Yeah...we won't bother you guys no more.” Clifton finally conceded.
“Thank you...” Morrissey stated. “Now ya'll have a good night.” he said as he tapped Chris on the shoulder and motioned for him to walk out the door with him.
….
“What the heck was that?” Morrisey asked in an angry tone as he gave Chris a scornful look as they both sat back in the patrol car. “You looked like you were a million miles away and you weren’t even paying attention.”
“Yeah...sorry. I guess I was a little distracted.” Chris responded.
“We can't afford to be distracted, especially in volatile calls like that! Did you even notice when that guy jumped up?!” he asked
“Um...I'm not sure. I think.”
“You think? You can't miss something like that. For all you know he was coming over to assault both you and his girlfriend. Then the two of them would be fighting and we'd have our hands full. We would have gone from a domestic dispute call to a full on assault, possibly even on an LEO.” Morrisey used the acronym for Law Enforcement Officer.
“Sorry...” Chris responded. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not, I'm gonna have to document this in your training file and I've already had to do that way too much lately.” Chris felt his heart sink as Morrisey continued, “Maybe if you weren't so busy following your pretty little NGP girlfriend around like a love sick puppy you might actually start to learn some things.
Chris almost visibly winced at Morrisey's accusation, especially since Jennifer was the very reason he was so distracted. Upon his arrival at the district house that evening he had learned of John's dismissal the previous day. While that was shocking enough, he had been most disturbed when he learned that Jennifer had been directly involved and might have possibly even been responsible for the entire incident. Chris couldn't help, but think that his friend's situation might have been directly linked to something he had told Jennifer when they were together…but what? In hindsight she had seemed to take a great deal of interest in his interaction with John when he had inadvertently brought it up.
The entire incident had thrown Chris for a loop and he had been completely distracted for the entire night; something his training officer had easily taken note of. Not only did Chris feel responsible for John, but he felt as if he had been betrayed by Jennifer, someone who he had at first thought had been genuinely out to help him and for that matter the other officers as well. This situation mixed with what appeared to be his latest blunder that Morrisey had been so quick to point out, placed him in a disturbing position. He was unsure what he could do about anything and his confidence was shot. It was already too late to salvage John's career and now that Jennifer had seemingly gotten what she wanted from him, she no longer had any use for him.
“206David...” The in car police radio broke the silence of the interior of the patrol vehicle and pulled Chris from his troublesome thoughts. He reached over and grasped the radio microphone and raised it up to his lips.
“206David is Renovah and Wayne...” he responded to the dispatcher.
“206David, respond to a 44 (burglar) alarm at 730 Tabor Lane...730 Tabor Lane.” As a standard procedure the dispatcher repeated the address just to be sure that Chris had heard him correctly; a moment later the laptop inside the car chirped as the Computer Automated Dispatch program relayed the information about the call to Chris and Morrisey’s Mobile Computer Terminal.
“10-4, 206David is 10-76 (en route).” Chris responded in a despondent voice before sliding the mic back into its cradle.
“You can write your domestic report later.” Morrisey said in an aggravated tone referring to the call that he and Chris had just left.
“Since John Lawrence is no longer with us I guess we're covering his beat tonight as well.” Still dejected, Chris simply nodded his head as the two drove quietly down the road towards their dispatched call.
CHAPTER 15
John sat quietly in the living room of his modest sized apartment. A glass of Jack Daniels poured over ice rested on the coffee table in front of him and an open bottle of the liquor sat next to it. He stared blankly across the room at his flat screen TV. It was tuned to a liberal news station. It would not have been his choice, but by this time all remaining news stations were of the left leaning variety. Soon after the suspension of the Constitution President Jordan's regime had targeted the more conservative news outlets by pulling their FCC licenses or web domains when they continued to broadcast their “right wing extremist propaganda.” Once the conservative news stations had been silenced the administration had turned its attention to the moderate news companies. Now the only news stations on the air mirrored the positions of MSNBC and other likeminded media outlets. The only way to obtain any semblance of independent news was to scour the internet blogs and forums. Sadly, most Americans failed to make the effort.
John stared at the TV as the anchors angrily discussed their thoughts on the recent secession of Texas. It had been reported that Lance Gabriel, Texas's governor had sidestepped the daunting task of trying to create a Texas note of currency and had instead chosen the idea of taking his state's economy back to the gold, silver, and precious metals standard. It was widely rumored that Texas was secretly exchanging US currency with Mexico in order to obtain more gold for the newly formed republic.
In a move that directly challenged President Jordan’s government and its control and regulation over personally owned precious metals, Gabriel had announced that his state would be willing to allow any individual from any other state into Texas in order to exchange their paper currency for gold or silver. There would, of course, be a cha
rge in order to reimburse Texas for the act of converting the paper currency into gold, but the news was already drawing people from all across the country that were desperate for some sort of stability in their financial lives.
While the dollar was at an all-time low it still stood above the Peso in the international market. Many believed that having some sort of assured coinage such as gold or silver in their hands was worth the risk even if it meant sacrificing some of the “alleged” value of their US Dollars. In an ironic twist of fate, it was suspected that after the money was exchanged with Mexico many of the US dollars would find their way back across the broken borders of Arizona, New Mexico, and California and work their way back into the US economy further destabilizing the United States financial standing. News of this development had supposedly infuriated President Jordan. It was all high drama, but if Gabriel’s ploy worked it might catapult the value of Texas’s currency above that of the quickly crumbling American monetary system.
After the extreme defunding of the US military and with many of its units already spread out across the country attempting to control almost daily riots that were occurring in many of the major cities or assisting local governments in defending against potential terrorist threats it seemed highly unlikely that any type of military response to Texas's secession could be undertaken anytime in the near future. That situation changed drastically; however, when former Vice President James Bryan suggested utilizing United Nation's troops as peace keeping “emissaries” to help “secure” Texas's borders and ensure peace and general order were maintained. It was an unprecedented notion, but one that President Jordan had none the less eagerly endorsed. His ardent support for a new one world government under the direct control of the United Nations or other similar international organization had become more and more obvious during his time in office. Texas's secession had given him the opportunity he needed to bring foreign troops into the United States. John could only watch in disbelief as the news anchor with a heavy English accent, slicked over black hair, and an impeccable suit defended Jordan’s decision.