Ryan chuckled at the verbal thrust he had made, then turned serious and continued: “If you had made a serious study of history like I have you might have recognized certain very general facts of life, or perhaps I should say certain general facts of historical development. History has inertia. Any historical development, such as the one we’ve been going through in this country as it has changed in this century from an essentially homogeneous, White, Christian nation quite conscious of its European heritage to a heterogeneous, multi-racial, polyglot, heterodox rabble ruled by Jews and crooked lawyer-politicians in league with the Jews, has an enormous inertia. It moves tectonically, like a crustal plate in the earth. It has built up its motion over a long period of time. That motion is driven by historical forces. There is simply no turning such a development around. The most one can hope to do is understand its dynamics and learn how best to adapt to it. That’s what I intend to do. You, on the other hand, want to ignore the laws of history and charge head-on into all the forces that are carrying America in the direction she’s going. In particular, you want to tackle the Jews head-on. You can’t win that way.”
“I don’t know about your ‘laws of history,’ Ryan. I’m sure that the rot we can see all around us has very deep roots, but I’m not convinced that we have to sit back and be observers while the race goes down the drain. I’m inclined to agree with you that the process of decay has gone too far to be reversed, but there’s still plenty of sound human material left to be salvaged. I believe that there are ways to carry out a salvage operation successfully. You could, for example, let the Black rebellion take place as planned, but then use the Agency to liquidate the Jewish leadership, the Jewish media controllers and money men, during the general confusion caused by the rebellion. The rebellion would serve as a great stimulus to White consciousness, and we could organize the salvageable elements into an effective force for cutting out the rest of the rot and isolating it. The TV screens could go blank, and the cities could burn. The more rioting by the rabble the better. At the end of a year we should have a pretty clear separation of elements, and we could start rebuilding even while completing the elimination of the rotten material.”
“You’re dreaming again, Yeager. You have an idealized image of the White man in your head. It’s an image of what you think the White man ought to be, not what he really is, not what he actually has become. You imagine that when the Blacks rise up and start their wholesale burning and looting and raping and killing, hundreds of thousands of these heroic White men which exist in your mind will materialize, along with their heroic women, and you’ll organize them into a disciplined force for mopping up the Jews, the queers, the feminists, the nigger-loving liberals, the politicians and the other race traitors, the nut-case Christians, the spics, the gooks, the towel-heads, and what’s left of the Blacks after I’ve crushed their rebellion. But it won’t happen, Yeager. It’s only a dream.
“Just because you and I have the balls and the inclination to join such a fight doesn’t mean that anyone else does. We’re unique. There aren’t any others like us left in this degenerate age. You’d end up with a few hundred White volunteers, and you’d find those impossible to discipline. The rest would be sitting at home waiting for their television sets to come back on and tell them what to think, running with the niggers and joining the looting and raping, or praying for Jesus to save them. Understand?
“What you have in mind won’t work. The White people are too far gone. They don’t understand discipline, sacrifice, pulling together for a common goal. They’re too weak, too timid, too spoiled, too selfish, too undisciplined. Hitler’s SS legions were the last White force on earth which had a chance of doing what you want to do, and there just weren’t enough of them to pull it off. The rabble smothered them with sheer numbers. And the rabble would smother you a thousand times faster. Do you think my Agency is the only armed force in this country? The Army would be called out against you, and it would smother you, no matter how much higher your racial quality or how much better your discipline.”
There was silence in the cabin while the two men stared at each other. Finally Ryan glanced down at his watch, and Oscar spoke, his voice husky with emotion. “No doubt there’s much truth in what you say. No doubt we would be facing a desperate and risky struggle. But we must chance it, Ryan. We must interrupt the current trends. We must at least give our people a chance to save themselves and make a fresh start. We can’t permit ourselves to be locked into a new stasis, with the Jews continuing to control the media. That would be inevitably lethal. Order and stability are good things, when the situation is progressive, when a people is imbued with a constructive spirit and is building a better future for its progeny. But when the situation is regressive, then order and stability become the enemies of life, the enemies of true progress.”
Ryan snorted with impatience as he replied. “I’ll tell you what we must do, Yeager. We must terminate this useless debate now. I’ve wasted more than an hour with you tonight. You’d better forget your dream and accept the fact that there will be order in this country. You can either be a part of that order or not. If you want to be part of it then you’re going to get rid of Rogers for me pronto, with no more slipups. If you don’t want to be part of it, I can fix that for you right now.”
Ryan glanced to his right and reached for the pistol on the cushion beside him. At that instant Oscar squeezed hard on the pocket clip of the pen he had pulled from his shirt pocket some minutes ago and had been idly toying with as the two men talked. There was a faint popping sound, and a thin stream of liquid spurted from the end of the pen which was pointed directly toward Ryan, diverging into a narrow cone of mist as it approached its target. Ryan gasped, emitted a strangled oath, and stumbled halfway to his feet, upsetting the coffee table.
While Ryan, momentarily blinded by the tear gas, groped on the couch for his pistol, choking and gasping for breath, Oscar sprang. He knocked Ryan aside and seized the pistol, then whirled and fired two quick shots as the other man lunged toward him. Ryan clutched his midsection, groaned once, and dropped to the floor. Oscar kneeled beside him and felt his pulse. Ryan was still alive.
“Sorry about that, Ryan. I really hated to do it. I really wanted to keep working with you. I think we would have had a much better chance with you running the Agency, if only you could have shifted your priorities and put the race ahead of order.”
“Then why?” the mortally wounded Ryan gasped weakly.
Oscar thought for a minute before answering. “1 guess that, behind all the arguments about what’s realistic and what isn’t, 1 did it for that 14-year-old Klansman’s daughter you told me about, Ryan.”
Oscar rose to his feet, pointed the pistol carefully at the back of Ryan’s head, and administered the coup de grace. Then he gathered up his own pistol and slipped out into the night.
XXXIX
The faked assassination attempt on Saul had serendipitous consequences. Two days later — the morning after Oscar had killed Ryan — the FBI announced the arrest of the leader and three other members of the Zionist Defense League and charged them with conspiracy in the bombing of Saul’s car.
Apparently the militant Jewish group had been talking for several weeks about killing Saul, and an informer in the group had been reporting the discussions to the FBI. Whether the members’ talk of assassination had been serious or not it was difficult to say with certainty, but the group had along record of violence which included a number of bombings of persons who had spoken out against U.S. support for Israel. A search of the leader’s home turned up a large cache of explosives and illegal weapons, and that was enough to convince the FBI of the group’s responsibility for the attempt on Saul’s life.
That evening, with the news full of reports of the Jews’ arrests and the demands for retribution by Saul’s Fundamentalist followers, Ryan’s body was found on his yacht. Although there was not the slightest hint of Jewish involvement in Ryan’s death, the timing was unfortunate for the Jews.
The Agency chief had been especially popular with the law-and-order elements who made up a sizable portion of Saul’s following, and rumors that the Jews had killed him were irrepressible. Synagogues were burned and Jewish department stores were ransacked in a dozen cities in the Bible Belt.
Another effect of these rumors was the President’s choice of a Gentile as Ryan’s successor, despite the heavy lobbying behind the scenes for the post to go to a Jew. Hedges and his advisers were afraid that the appointment of the Jews’ candidate, Sherman Davidson, would confirm the rumors in many minds and turn the wrath of Saul’s followers against the Hedges Administration. So the new Agency chief was George Carruthers, who had been Ryan’s second in command. Carruthers was an excellent administrator and a skilful diplomat and negotiator, but he utterly lacked Ryan’s Praetorian qualities. His habit was to act only after careful deliberation and prolonged consultation with advisory committees, never with the boldness or intuition which had guided Ryan. It was Oscar’s guess that the man shared Ryan’s views on the Jews, or Ryan would not have chosen him as his deputy. How Carruthers would fare in putting down the anticipated Black rebellion remained to be seen, but Oscar suspected he would have a much rougher time of it.
Oscar had enough faith in Ryan’s forecast to make it the subject of Saul’s next sermon. Saul gave his own prediction of the rebellion a cryptic treatment, with the aim of avoiding charges of “racism” which might jeopardize the ongoing fight to remain on the air — and also to minimize the likelihood of forestalling the predicted event. He allowed Jesus to speak through him again, halo and all, and Jesus’ exact words were: “Behold, my enemies have deceived you and confused you and led you into the folly of taking a great beast into your midst. They have told you to give your children to the beast and to lie with the beast, as a woman lies with a man, and to accept all manner of evil from the beast. They have blinded you, so that you see not what the beast does to you. And now my enemies have told the beast to rise up against you and slay you. And the beast shall rise up, and it shall destroy your cities and ravish your women and defile your children, and it shall slay many of you. And your blood shall run in the streets of your cities because of your folly and because of the hatred which my enemies bear for you.
“And, behold, all of these things shall come to pass very soon. But my father shall have mercy on you, and he shall rally you in the midst of your tribulations, and he shall lead you against the beast and against my enemies, who have brought this evil upon you. And you shall slay them, both the beast and my enemies, and you shall triumph over them, and you shall cleanse the earth of their presence until not even a memory of them remains.”
This prophecy generated much speculation among the faithful as to its meaning — for the next 15 days; then it suddenly became clear beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt, as the Black rebellion began with the Day of the Long Knives. White losses on that first day were really substantial only in the largest urban areas. More than 12,000 were killed in New York, a little less than 3,000 in Boston, nearly 4,000 in Washington, 2,000 in Atlanta, 5,500 in Chicago, 9,000 in the Los Angeles area — about 58,000 for the whole country. Although the numbers were not large — a little more than were killed in automobile crashes each year, or a sixth as many as were killed by cigarettes — the psychological impact was enormous.
When Black employees in offices, shops, and factories all across the country pulled weapons from their clothing at exactly noon, Eastern Daylight Time, and began attacking their White co-workers on that first Monday of the rebellion, the White reaction was panic and terror. The weapons in many cases were handguns — sometimes even sawed-off rifles or shotguns — instead of knives, to be sure, but the image which remained in the minds of most Whites who witnessed the rebellion was of blood-spattered Blacks with blood-dripping knives, ice picks, cleavers, or hatchets in their hands, running from desk to desk, from counter to counter, from work station to work station, stabbing, hacking, slicing, chopping, amid the screams and groans of their victims.
In a few instances, mostly in blue-collar locations, White workers defended themselves vigorously, disarming their Black attackers and administering summary justice. As a rule, however, Whites were easy victims. Brainwashed by decades of guilt-inducing “brotherhood” propaganda, they were morally disarmed and incapable of defending themselves. When the Blacks began their deadly work, some Whites scrambled to get out of their way, but others could only watch and wait, paralyzed with fear. The bizarre and horrible scenes witnessed on that day were many.
In the offices of a large law firm in Boston, in which only four Blacks and more than 50 Whites were employed, two of the Blacks — a secretary and a junior attorney — were nationalists. At noon these two produced weapons and herded everyone else, except a dozen or so Whites who already had left for lunch, into a large conference room and ordered them to kneel on the floor. While the junior attorney waved a pistol and ranted about “White racism” and “injustice,” the Black secretary went methodically from one kneeling White to another, slitting the throat of each with a straight razor. The Whites merely awaited their turns, some silent, some sobbing. An eyewitness account was given by one of the two Blacks who did not participate in the killings.
In Washington a few minutes after noon Blacks blocked one end of a highway tunnel running under Capitol Hill by parking cars across the roadway. Terrified White government workers attempting to flee the city quickly had the tunnel full of backed-up traffic. Starting at the blocked end a gang of about two dozen young Black males armed with machetes and axes began pulling White drivers and passengers from their vehicles and butchering them. As the Blacks worked their way further into the tunnel, most Whites remained in their cars, watching in horror as the Whites in front of them were dragged screaming through smashed windshields and dispatched with savage machete blows. A few Whites ran back through the tunnel to an exit ramp and attempted to summon the police, but the police all were busy elsewhere. The slaughter in the tunnel continued for nearly four hours, until the Black killers were too exhausted to kill more. More than 300 Whites died in the tunnel during those four hours.
Overall, only a small percentage of America’s Blacks were involved in the initial violence — fewer than 40,000 for the entire country. Those were the ones who were members of one or another of the militant nationalist organizations, the ones who had been steeped in the rhetoric of self-pity and hatred for the “White oppressor” for years, who had been preparing themselves for a rebellion for months, and who had been told the time of the uprising and given their final instructions 24 hours beforehand. It was a wonder that, with the “secret” shared by so many, the Agency was the only arm of the government which had a detailed foreknowledge of the rebellion.
The majority of the Black militants were young males, although a surprisingly large number of females also were involved. Many were college educated; in these resentment had reached its greatest pressure. Given endless assurances of their “equality” by the media, by college recruiters, and by their guilt-ridden White classmates and co-workers, they had, more than their humbler brethren, come up with a humiliating jolt against their inherent limitations.
After the first day, however, many other Blacks had, in effect, joined the rebellion. The entire Black underclass — the street gangs, the chronically unemployed, the ones who always were ready for any activity which promised an opportunity for loot, for getting in a blow against “Whitey,” for raising a little hell — although not formally affiliated with any of the nationalist organizations or taking orders from them, served the cause quite well by participating independently in the looting and destruction.
The militants did succeed in formally recruiting many Blacks to their cause during the first weeks of fighting, however: some joined because they were intimidated, and some had sympathies or resentments which already had predisposed them toward Black nationalism. As the White reaction began to take shape, with the accompanying manifestations of anti-Black feeling, t
he polarization between the races grew, and many Blacks who had hoped to avoid the conflict were forced to choose sides.
To Oscar the rebellion seemed a godsend, almost too good to be true. Far from sharing Ryan’s antipathy toward the Black nationalists, he hoped that they would emerge from the rebellion with even more influence over their own race than before. But the fate of the Blacks was only a minor issue. The real value of the rebellion lay in three things. First, it did more to raise the racial consciousness and the receptivity of the still-healthy segment of the White population than ten years of preaching with all the media at their disposal could have done. Second, it greatly strengthened Saul’s grip on his particular segment of the White population: not only had he firmly established his credentials as an authentic, divinely inspired prophet by serving as Jesus’ mouthpiece for an unequivocal prediction of the rebellion, but he had been preaching about the importance of race, even if somewhat obliquely, for months beforehand, while the other supposed minions of Jehovah had been attacking him for his efforts. And third, the rebellion did irreparable damage to the prestige and credibility of the established authorities: principally the government, the controlled media, and the mainline churches, all of which were perceived as sharing the blame for it.
On the evening of the second day of the rebellion, the Washington-area leadership cadre of the National League held an emergency meeting in the Kellers’ basement to plan strategy. “Have any trouble getting here?” Harry asked as Oscar and Adelaide entered the room ten minutes late. The President had declared a state of emergency and imposed martial law on the capital area that afternoon. There was a 6:00 PM curfew, and military patrols were roaming the streets to enforce it. In addition there was the danger from the Blacks in many areas.
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