Blood in the Streets

by Skip Coryell

  Before each class, I always go around the room and ask each student several things: their name, where they live, their experience with firearms, and why they are taking the class. After nine-eleven, the reasons for taking my class changed for quite a few people. Here are just a few of the things they told me.

  “I’m afraid now. I never used to be, but I am now.”

  “People out there want to kill us! I need to be able to protect myself and my family against those lunatics!”

  “I don’t feel safe walking around anymore, especially when I’m in a big city. If they can take out the Twin Towers, then no one is safe.”

  So I started holding classes every month, and attendance went from 5 to 10 students to 20 to 30 on average. Nine-eleven was the clarion call to all ostriches with their heads still in the sand. Wake up and smell the terrorists! They are here and they are not going away.

  I was deeply affected by nine-eleven, so much so, that I felt compelled to write my second novel We Hold These Truths. But before I could write it, I had to do a lot of research on radical Islam. I needed to understand why they wanted to kill innocent people. I read several books, two of them by Mark Gabriel, who was a former Professor of Islamic history at the Al-Azhar University in Cairo, Egypt. I found both his books “Islam and Terrorism” and “Islam and the Jews” to be especially enlightening. I found it amazing that on the day he told his father of his conversion to Christianity, his father pulled a pistol out of his belt and began shooting at him. Dr. Gabriel barely escaped Egypt with his life. Today, he lives in the United States, unable to safely return to his home country.

  Another book I read, written by Steven Emerson, was titled “American Jihad: The Terrorists Living Among Us”. This book chronicles the rise of Islam in America and also details the recent history of terrorist groups around the world.

  Last, but certainly not least, I solicited help from one of my closest friends as an Islamic Cultural Consultant. My friend, Phil Walsh, had roomed with me in college, and we had remained close friends to this day. Phil had grown up in the Moslem country of Bangladesh and was able to articulate quite clearly the mindset that drives radical Islam. Without the afore-mentioned books and Phil’s expertise, I could never have written a realistic book on terrorism or created the antagonist character, Momin Islam, in my novel. I just didn’t have the background for it.

  The below excerpt from We Hold These Truths pretty much sums up how radical Islam views America. This scene takes place a day after the terrorist has just detonated a nuclear suitcase bomb on American soil. After that, he fled to Northern Michigan, where he killed a police officer. In this scene, he has been captured by three of the townspeople (two are CCW Instructors) and they are holding him captive in a church. FBI Special Agent Richard Resnik is explaining to them what radical Islam is really all about.

  “Make sure that duct tape is good and tight Zeke. Only God knows how many more of us will die if that lunatic gets away.”

  Zeke finished securing Momin’s hands and feet and slowly backed away from the 8-feet tall wooden cross made of barn beams. They had placed Momin squarely in the center of the podium, to the left of the preacher’s pulpit and to the right of the prayer candle display where they could watch him and still not have to get close.

  Momin looked up at the cross and sneered. “You can’t stop me! Allah has willed it! You will all die in blood and fire!”

  Zeke yelled back at him, more out of fear than anger. “Just shut up! You’re not going to kill anyone else ever again. If I had my way you’d be dead already!”

  Momin laughed out loud. “Then I will pray that you never get your way. You can’t kill me until my destiny is complete. Allah will protect me until my work is done.”

  Josh took a step forward. “How can you say that? You’re a murderer – a mass murderer – you killed almost 200,000 people!”

  Momin stopped laughing and his face became serious. “Jihad is not murder. It is honor. It is duty to God.”

  Josh put his pistol back in its holster. “That’s the sickest thing I’ve ever heard! You call killing innocent women and children honor? What is honorable about that?”

  Momin glared back at them, then turned his head and spit on the base of the large wooden cross. “There are no innocents outside of Islam. This is Jihad. All must convert or be put to the sword!”

  Lance Stuart had been quiet, but he stepped forward now, replacing his pistol in its holster as he did. “I know that you believe that garbage and are willing to die for it, but why? How did you get so misled?”

  The darkness of Momin’s eyes looked up at him from ten feet away and glistened in the fluorescent light. When he spoke, it was in Arabic, and he went on for several sentences, spewing the words out like venom.

  “He’s speaking Arabic. Would you like me to interpret for you?”

  Zeke, Josh, and Lance, all turned around and looked at Richard Resnik, who had moved up to a sitting position on his cot. Josh walked over and sat beside him. “You okay now agent Resnik?” Richard smiled weakly and nodded.

  “Yes. Just feeling very weak. And my fingers and toes are sore. They feel tender to the touch.” Zeke took a step closer. “It’s the frostbite. I saw a lot of it in Korea. A couple of your toes were black. You might lose one or two of them. But you’ll be fine aside from that.”

  Richard looked up at the podium and met Momin’s hateful gaze. He didn’t flinch. This man had killed his family: his mother, his father, and 200,000 others. “He was quoting from Osama Bin Laden who issued a fatwa against all Americans and Jews in 1998.”

  Zeke interrupted him. “What’s a fatwa? Never heard of it before.”

  “It’s a religious ruling given by high-ranking Muslim leaders. This one was made public by the World Islamic Front in 1998 and supported by a great portion of the Muslim extremists.” Momin glared at him, his eyes full of hatred.

  “Just shut up you stinking Jew! You are the first one I’m going to kill!”

  Lance seemed to have adapted to Momin’s fanatical spewings and just ignored him. “What did the fatwa say?” Richard stood weakly to his feet. Josh stood beside him, placing his hand on his back for support.

  “Osama Bin Laden said: ‘But when the forbidden months are past, then fight and slay the pagans wherever ye find them, seize them, beleaguer them, and lie in wait for them in every stratagem; and peace be upon our prophet Muhammad Bin-Abdullah, who said: I have been sent with the sword between my hands to ensure that no one but Allah is worshipped, Allah who put my livelihood under the shadow of my spear and who inflicts humiliation and scorn on those who disobey my orders.”

  Josh interrupted him.

  “Slay the pagans? But we’re not pagans. We’re God-fearing Christians! We believe in God and we want to serve Him. America is still predominantly a godly country. So why are they killing us?”

  Richard smiled weakly and shook his head from side to side.

  “You don’t understand radical Islam. It was founded by one man, a man with self-serving interests, and he spread his power and influence by conquering others. Muhammad claimed to be God’s prophet, therefore, anything he said was considered equal to that of God. Did you know that Muhammad had 23 wives and concubines? Once he wanted to marry the wife of his step-son, something that was forbidden by Islamic law, so he simply claimed to have received a revelation from Allah that it was now lawful for him to take her as his wife. His step-son, who was a good Muslim, wanted to please the prophet, so he immediately divorced his wife so Muhammad could bed her. On another time, Muhammad, the great prophet of Allah, married a 6-year old girl, then consummated that marriage when she was only 9 years old. America must come to understand Islam for what it really is. Allah is not the god of Judaism and Christianity. He is not the god of love and tolerance.”

  Zeke turned away from Momin and faced Richard before the cot.

  “I still don’t understand why they want to kill us all. Even if all of that is true, it doesn’t make any s
ense to me.”

  “It’s because they define pagan as anyone who doesn’t practice Islam. And, according to certain passages in the Koran, all pagans have to be converted or killed.”

  Richard looked down at the floor and thought for a moment. He wanted them to understand what kind of person they had captured. He needed them to help him retrieve the other nuclear suitcase bomb and then take it back to the bureau.

  “Later in the fatwa, Osama Bin Laden said: ‘We – with Allah’s help – call on every Muslim who believes in Allah and wishes to be rewarded to comply with Allah’s order to kill the Americans and plunder their money wherever and whenever they can find it. We also call on Muslim ulema, leaders, youths, and soldiers to launch the raid on Satan’s U.S. troops and the devil’s supporters allying with them, and to displace those who are behind them so that they may learn a lesson.’”

  Zeke, Josh, and Lance all stood motionless, saying nothing, surprised to learn that according to Islam, they were servants and soldiers of Satan. Momin saw the looks on their faces and laughed out loud maniacally.

  “And now you know the truth! You are infidels, pagans, arrogant soldiers of the great Satan! And since you are soldiers, then you are enemies, and you must die. America and the weakness of Christianity has stood in Islam’s way far too long. And now, you will be crushed under the iron boot of Islam. It is time for America to die!”

  Zeke turned and yelled at the top of his voice.

  “Just shut up! We don’t want to hear your garbage anymore! America is free, and I fought to protect that freedom. I watched hundreds of my friends die trying to stop tyrants like you from enslaving other people.”

  “Hush Zeke!” Josh silenced him with a stern rebuke and a stare. “Don’t lower yourself. He’s not worth it. He’s going to prison now, and he’ll rot there for the rest of his life.”

  Momin smiled a tooth-filled grin. “Go ahead and kill me! 70 virgins await me, and Allah will welcome me personally at the gates of Heaven.”

  Lance turned back around and glared at Momin. “It’s a good thing for you that we’re in the house of God, because right now you are really getting on my nerves.”

  Josh walked up to the cross and looked down at Momin. “Jesus commanded us to love you, so I can’t go ahead and kill you, even though right now my fallen flesh wants ….”

  Josh let the sentence die unended. He walked over to Momin, picked up the duct tape and wrapped it around his head several times, securely covering his mouth. When he was done, he nodded his head in satisfaction. “There! You’re easier to love when you’re not talking.”

  I know that the above chapter probably sounds harsh and unpalatable to most Americans, but it really is an accurate picture of an Islamic terrorist. Many terrorists are raised in a third-world country where human life has lesser value. People die from disease, starvation, and murder every day. Those who live, are destined to spend a lifetime in poverty and squalor. To someone such as this, the promise of seventy virgins and an elevated position in Heaven is very appealing. I often wondered why suicide bombers were so willing to blow themselves up, and I learned that there is only one way for a Moslem to guarantee his entrance into Heaven, and that is to die in Jihad. In conditions such as this, radical Islam flourishes.

  I believe that it is only a matter of time before another attack occurs on American soil. The terrorists will not stop until one of two things occur: 1) They succeed in killing or converting all infidels, or, 2) They are stopped and contained using superior force.

  Only one nation is capable of doing that – America – and that is why they hate us. We are a threat and an obstacle to them. Ever since nine-eleven, I have believed that we are fighting the battles of World War III, but most people don’t understand that. That is due, in part, to the selective reporting of the mainstream press, and also because of the unconventionality of the nature of this war. There are no fronts, no battle lines, no uniforms, and no civilians. According to Islamic terrorists, there are only Muslims on the one hand, and infidels who must turn or be put to the sword on the other. Have you ever noticed that after the first week of nine-eleven, the footage of the Twin Towers falling is rarely, if ever, shown? I believe that it is a dangerous thing to forget the past. The Twin Towers falling is the reason we fight. On the cover of my novel you’ll see a picture of the Twin Towers and the words “Nine-eleven was just the beginning!” Please do not forget nine-eleven. It is important for America’s survival that we remember the nature of the enemy and the true face of radical Islam.

  I have inserted Chapter one of We Hold These Truths below. It takes place on the day of nine-eleven where four rural folks are sitting around the television watching as the Twin Towers crash to the ground. It is good to remember the past, even if it’s painful. Read on and remember. Read on and honor those who died and those who struggled to save them on that dreadful day.

  “I think we ought to nuke ‘em, that’s what I think!”

  Pastor Josh McCullen interrupted him with a half-hearted rebuke. He wanted to nuke them too, but his Christian faith commanded restraint. “Oh just calm down now Luke! We don’t even know all the facts yet. Let’s not rush to judgment!”

  A small group of four men were huddled at a corner table in the Mudhen Grille, staring up at the television screen, watching the news reporter as he stood in front of the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City. Black smoke was billowing from both buildings as firemen rushed into the blaze and police officers tried to calm the people coming out. Jack Sanders, the local garage mechanic silenced them with a tense sneer.

  “Just shut up, both of you! I’m trying to hear!”

  A fourth man, Henry Bolthouse, turned up the volume and they all sat grim-faced, as they listened to the sounds of mayhem and destruction.

  “All we know Brian, is that at approximately 8:50AM this morning, the first of the two airliners crashed into the north tower of the World Trade Center, leaving it smoking and engulfing the top part of it in flames. We assume that all the passengers aboard were killed instantly. Then, at approximately 9 AM, the second airliner crashed into the south tower near the 80th floor. Both towers are blazing and smoking now, . . . “

  The announcer hesitated, then yelled out.

  “Oh my God! Did you see that! A man just jumped through a window, Brian! I saw a man jump out and land onto a car from about 50 floors up! Oh my God! Look, there’s more jumping!”

  The camera moved off the announcer and onto the smoking building. Tiny specks, like human bugs were clinging tenaciously to the outer wall of the building, then, one by one, they separated themselves from the burning tower and plummeted through the air to their deaths. The cameraman tried to zoom in but couldn’t do it. Brian Becker then interrupted him.

  “Neil, you need to get out of there. Fall back to a safer position and report from further out.” There was no answer. “Neil, are you there?”

  The camera moved back down to view Neil Champion, veteran newscaster, bent at the waist, and hugging his arms around his torso. There were tears streaming down his face and falling to the dirty pavement.

  “Neil, can you talk to us?”

  Neil took a deep breath, and then stood up, wiped his eyes and began to talk again. “Everything seems out of control here and the firefighters are concentrating on getting as many people out of the buildings as they can.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry. I just never seen anyone die before. I . . . I, just don’t . . . don’t know what to say.”

  Brian Becker interrupted him, his voice sympathetic and soft.

  “It’s okay Neil, just tell us all what you see.”

  The announcer turned around and pointed to the buildings and the camera zoomed in on the top half of both towers. “As you can see, Brian, the black smoke is getting thicker, and. . . Oh my God!”

  The four men huddled at the table jumped to their feet, aghast at the sight before them.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God! Brian one of the towers is coming down! Oh my
God!”

  “Neil, get out of there!”

  A wall of dust and smoke and debris came pushing toward the camera like an unstoppable tidal wave.

  “They’re all dead! All those people are dead! The tower just collapsed on top of itself and a cloud of dust and smoke is coming towards us. All those people are dead!”

  The men in the Mudhen Grille watched as the smoke and dust spread out across the city and eventually engulfed the news reporter. The camera jumped back and forth and the picture suddenly went black. Pastor McCullen, blurted out in shock.

  “Oh my God! They just toppled the Twin Towers! Oh God help us! All those people are dead!”

  He dropped to his knees and began to pray. Luke, the owner of the Mudhen Grille jumped up and ran over to the phone.

  “My daughter works near one of those buildings! I have to make sure she’s safe!”