Hell on Earth

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  The Mayor and Mayor Pro Tempore seldom attended the meetings. Because of the violent outbursts, most regular citizens stayed away too. Rachel ran on a pro-police, anti-gang platform to attain her council position, beating out Clarice Salvatore. During the last mayoral election, Somali Mafia gangs intimidated the voting public, threatening to riot, and invaded polling places. Pacific Grove’s small nineteen thousand populace now included a thousand Somali residents. Nearly three thousand Somali’s lived in the Monterey county area. In addition to voter intimidation, Clarice Salvatore campaigned for Jama, claiming anyone not wanting her as mayor was a xenophobic racist. Clarice’s failed council bid stunned the mayor, who counted on Clarice’s backing on the council. Instead, Astur dealt with Rachel McCarty’s anti-crime agenda.

  Jama attended the council meeting because rumors surfaced McCarty would be pushing support for Police Chief Dickerson’s crackdown on the gangs, most of whom were violent young Somali refugees. The Somalis turned the welcoming state of Minnesota into a warzone. When citizen militias began open vigilante warfare to take their state back, many former Somali Mafia members and gangbangers spread west. Driven to the coast by armed citizens, refusing to allow their western cities and states to be overrun by Sharia Law advocates, the Somalis invaded the easy going coastal areas in liberal California.

  Quinn spotted the dozen feral young men striding by the line of people, jutting in at them with hooded faces. Quinn left his post after halting the line, and caught the leader by the throat as he tried to break into the line. He pitched him into his cohorts with one hand to the crowd’s cheering approval. The young man knocked two of his companions to the pavement with him, where he gasped for breath.

  “No council interference will be allowed,” Quinn told them as Jean and Sonny Salvatore appeared at his side. “We’re US Marshals, asked in to keep the peace at council meetings. If you wish to attend the meeting, get in line and do not make a sound. You will need to go through the metal detector and have a valid ID.”

  The leader regained his feet, massaging his neck angrily. “You attacked me! I will file charges against you.”

  “Good luck with that,” Quinn replied. “Either obey my orders or leave with your crew.”

  “Maybe we hang out here and entertain! This a free country… we can patrol… make sure these people know you bunch are racists.”

  Quinn glanced over his shoulder where Ben and Sammy guarded the entrance in his place. “Hey, Ben, this guy wants to entertain the people here.”

  Ben smiled, waving a flat hand close to the ground in front of Sammy. In every sense of his nickname, Sammy the werewolf could change instantly from big happy, mutt to slavering, hackles raised werewolf. Sammy accompanied Ben in werewolf form, low to ground, a snarling coiled spring of ferocity. The gang stumbled back away from Sammy.

  “This is my brother, Ben. That’s Sammy the werewolf next to him. They will be patrolling to make sure our law-abiding citizens in line won’t be bothered. You bunch will be watched from above too. If any of you reach for anything other than a sandwich, here’s what will happen.” Quinn raised a hand.

  A silenced 9mm slug hit the ground two inches in front of the leader’s foot.

  “That is all the demonstration we’re giving,” Quinn said. “Get in line peacefully or leave.”

  “Big man with snipers and guard dogs,” the leader continued mouthing off, on a path to injury.

  Quinn laughed appreciatively. “We’re not here to scare you. If you’re coming inside, make certain you check your weapons with me at the door. You won’t get them back, but you’ll be allowed in.”

  “That’s stealin’! You can’t confiscate private property!”

  “Oh for God’s sake, Molly, shut your pie-hole and move on,” Jean’s patience was at an end. “Go get the door, Kong. I’ll handle Molly and the mutants.”

  “Okay, Sis.” Quinn returned to the door, instantly regaining his good humor while marshaling more of the people inside.

  Noting the gang continued to mill around instead of leaving, Jean walked into the leader’s airspace. “I told you to shove off, Molly. That wasn’t a request.”

  The leader reached for Jean’s windbreaker front, only to have his jacket sleeve slit from elbow to wrist, complete with thin blood-welling slice from a knife he never saw drawn. He yelped, retreating while gripping his wounded arm.

  “No more dancing around.” Jean whipped her knife into a series of impressive handling skill motions before making the knife disappear again. “Hit the road, poser! The rest of you follow him. Any more trouble and we get serious.”

  The wounded leader led the ones who hadn’t fled yet away, cheers and jeers propelling them on their retreat.

  “Do you mind patrolling with Sammy, Ben?”

  “I don’t mind, Sis. I know Sammy wants to be out here too. Is Dad in your ear about the wounding.”

  Jean nodded with a grin. “Yeah, he’s barking at me quietly. Luckily, Mom’s inside. If Trashy was spotting for him, I’d be getting scalded with ‘scarred up little turd’ talk. Sonny and I are going inside. Dad says he’s comfortable. He already sent Uncle Johnny down to the meeting. Aunt Cala’s with Aunt Tina inside, helping Mom get set for the meeting.”

  “I heard Clarice arrived earlier and Quinn made her stand in line like everyone else,” Ben said.

  “That’s what happened,” Sonny replied. “My folks only came to yank Ma’s chain as councilwoman. They’re still in the mix with Jama. Quinn handled it. We’ll see you inside, Ben.”

  “I can’t, Sonny. I need to study for a chemistry test tomorrow. Besides, the mayor hates dogs. It would make Mom’s meeting tougher than it already is.”

  “Dad says take the GMC.” Jean chuckled as Ben’s eyes widened in surprise. She handed him the keys. “He says not to forget to reload the security system once you’re home.”

  “I won’t.” Ben walked down the way with Sammy pacing happily once again next to him.

  Sonny and Jean entered at the side security door. Jean saw Rachel having a heated conversation with Mayor Jama. Rachel spotted her and waved them over. “The Mayor thinks we’re discriminating against the gang trash you sent packing.”

  Mayor Jama gasped in surprised anger. Dressed in a light blue hijab, her face contorted in tight lipped fury, Jama clenched her hands into fists. “How dare you?”

  “If you think that was a daring statement, wait until you hear my opening statement tonight,” Rachel replied. “I realize you were elected by sending a stream of gangbangers out to scare everyone into staying home. I was elected to stop you from handing over the town to the Somali Mafia.”

  So incensed was Jama by Rachel’s claim, she shot a hand forward to slap Rachel’s face. Jean snatched it in midflight, shaking the wrist. “No touching, Mayor.”

  Jama tried to yank free but Jean held her without moving. “Let me go!”

  “Calm down and I’ll release you. Take another swing at my Mom and I put you on the floor.” Jean could hear the now nearly full room muttering a range of comments from surprise to encouragement.

  One of Jama’s bodyguards rushed over from where he had been seated. Sonny cut him off as a second bodyguard approached. “Go back and sit down. It’s a small misunderstanding.”

  The bodyguard, nearly Sonny’s height, but with a lot more bulk, tried to go through him. Sonny tossed him over and down hard on the floor. He caught the second man charging in with a sidekick to his stomach. In seconds, the two men lay incapacitated, writhing in pain, one trying to breathe from a fetal position, and the other from his back. Seeing her bodyguards go down, Jama stopped struggling. Jean released her. Rachel remained unmoving throughout, arms folded calmly over chest.

  “We’re working on having you impeached, Jama,” Rachel told the Mayor. “You and your gang are going bye-bye. Don’t think we haven’t seen those Sharia Law signs inside the Somali hood you bunch are building.”

  “I will have these two thugs arrested for what they have do
ne!”

  “No… you won’t. Check my friends in the front row with the iPads filming your attacks,” Rachel told her.

  Cala and Tina smiled and waved when the Mayor glanced at them. Sonny disarmed the two bodyguards while Mayor Jama stomped to her seat away from Rachel without any further comment. Sonny helped the two bodyguards to their feet.

  “You can have your weapons back when you leave. Make any other movement tonight and we’ll drag you both out to sea with your bellies slit open. I don’t make idle threats, so behave yourselves.”

  Sonny pushed the two on their way, handing both weapons to Jean, who stashed them in their equipment bag. The crowd loved every second of the confrontation. “They’re scared, Ma. They’re going all in.”

  “They sure are,” Rachel agreed. “I hoped this would happen soon, but this is outstanding. We’ll lose the Grove if we don’t do something about these invaders. There’s your Dad with Quinn. We must have a full house. Where’s Benny?”

  “Dad gave him the GMC to drive home to study for a test,” Jean answered.

  “What?!”

  “Calm down. Ben’s had his license for a month. He’s great in the driver’s seat.”

  Nick arrived with a grin, certain from Rachel’s contorted features, she knew he let Ben drive home in the GMC. “You have a meeting to conduct, Mama. Get to it.”

  “I’ll deal with you later,” Rachel promised, “hopefully with our son and his dog still alive.”

  “Remember, Dad, Quinn’s still at home with Ben. You’ll have to gag her.” Jean ran for it with Sonny on her six.

  “I can tell I will need to bring Trailer Trash Mama out in full bloom,” Rachel stated.

  “Ben called me, Ma,” Quinn told her. “He’s already home in perfect health. Go on. I see your fellow councilmembers anxiously awaiting your start to the meeting.”

  “Okay… go sit down. I have this.” Rachel walked to the podium as her family palace guard spread out to cover the meeting room.

  Rachel called the meeting to order, holding her iPad for everyone to see. “I have the facts now to share at this meeting. We convened a special meeting because we are losing our tourist trade. Our citizens fear walking after dark. We have a mayor undercutting our police department at every instance of gang thrusts into our neighborhoods. Pacific Grove now has nearly a thousand Somalis. Of that number only fifteen work. The rest are living off entitlements, food-stamps, and government subsidies. In their communities, they post Sharia Law zones in direct violation of United States and California law. Crime is skyrocketing with ninety-five percent of the perpetrators apprehended being Somalis.”

  Rachel paused, nodding at the vocal support with underlying anger. “The rest of the city council and Chief Dickerson support taking our city back from the gangs and enforcing our laws. Sharia Law will not be instituted in this city under any circumstances.”

  Loud applause erupted as Mayor Jama leaped to her feet, rushing forward with hands gesturing for quiet. Her two bodyguards started to rise from their chairs; but one look at Sonny sitting nearly across from them, and they sat down again. Rachel let Jama have the podium as loud boos echoed around the room.

  “Do not give in to this Islamophobia. Sharia will not be forced on anyone. Religious persecution cannot be tolerated here!”

  A man stood in the middle of the third row. “Islam is not a race or religion! It’s a death cult! We know many of those thugs intimidating people on the street work for you!”

  The crowd went wild hearing what no one had the courage to say anymore. That the speaker was a black man resonated with the crowd. His shouts were mimicked by the other citizens being forced to live in fear. Jama looked stunned. She glanced at her bodyguards, but they were staring at their feet. Rachel walked over to the podium, edging Jama out of the way, daring her to try and stop the podium takeover.

  “There are ‘recall the mayor’ petition forms on your way out when we finish the meeting. I don’t cloak words with innuendo. I want this Sharia Law, anti-police plant out of the mayor’s office. If you feel the same way, take the petitions and let’s ‘get ‘er done’.”

  A standing ovation greeted Rachel’s statement. The Mayor took a step toward Rachel. In a split-second she was staring into Jean’s eyes, who seemed to materialize from nowhere. Mayor Jama and her bodyguards fled the meeting room to derisive shouts and jeers. Afterward, Rachel introduced each council member, allowing them to speak about their fears of losing the city to Somali Mafia using Sharia Law and Islam as a front.

  Rachel gave a final ending to the meeting. “We will not surrender this city. That vote fraud electing the Sharia Law Jama will not happen again. I am blessed with an entire US Marshal contingent in my family. They have permission to help Chief Dickerson and our police force in all confrontations. No destruction of private property in riots or intimidation will be allowed anywhere in this city. Thugs congregating in black masks will be handled in violent answer to their actions. Are you with me!”

  The room exploded in passionate affirmation of Rachel’s call to arms. Jean stood unmoving behind her, watching the crowd, with Sonny slightly to her left rear.

  “We have trouble,” Johnny said from his outside observer position. “Crowd of at least a couple dozen moving on the meeting with signs, screaming unintelligible crap. I called Neil. He has squad cars in route.”

  “They’ll be at the door before Neil’s forces get here,” Gus said. “Watch my back, Kabong. I’ll stop them.”

  “Many will die if they touch you, my friend.”

  “I got this, Johnny,” Gus replied. “Jian’s with me this time. The prick just moves back into town and he acts like he’s the proverbial junkyard dog.”

  “I have this, white-eyes,” Jian stated, moving slightly ahead of Gus. “Halt! You thugs will go no further. I am US Marshal Jian Chen. Please return to your homes.”

  “Out of the way, chink!” The man in front surged ahead, thinking to run over Chen.

  No one, not even Gus, saw the roundhouse kick to the man’s left temple in the darkness. One moment the man strode forward; and the next, he crumpled to the ground, unconscious and snoring. The group stopped in stunned silence. Jian showed his credentials.

  “It is dark. I know you cannot see my US Marshal’s ID, so I did not bother to show them. They are real. Most of you cannot read anyway. Take my word for it. Turn around and go back to whatever rathole all of you streamed out of.”

  “You can’t stop us all!” The man behind the snoring one on the ground stepped around him.

  “He won’t have to.” Jean moved to Jian’s side. Behind her, approaching in a spread pattern, were Johnny, Nick, Cala, Quinn, and Sonny. Lastly, Tina moved next to Gus, pumping a round into her twelve-gauge shotgun.

  “I ain’t no US Marshal, so I’ll fire this five rounds of buckshot without even blinking,” Tina shouted out. “Come get some.”

  Nick moved next to Jian and Jean. “As Marshal Chen ordered. Please go home. We will not be overrun. We will fire on you. Those that are not killed in the first few moments will be hunted down and put on trial for murder. Participation in a felony where a death occurs, results in a murder charge for all participants. From now on, nothing like this will be allowed in Pacific Grove. Be warned. Gangs will be disbanded, killed, or imprisoned. Looting and rioting will be handled in shoot on sight retaliation.”

  Squad cars arrived. Nick gestured at the unconscious man. “Pick him up and get moving away. Anyone not moving away in the next ten seconds will be arrested.”

  By the time Neil Dickerson walked to where the crowd had been confronted, they were in full retreat. “They all survived? It’s a Valentine’s Day miracle. Rachel’s a council member for a little over a month, and the US Marshal’s office owns the city. Jian! What the hell! When did you get back?”

  Jian shook hands with Neil, smiling and shrugging. “I hated DC. All the action is here. I missed this place. Even Joan was fed up with corruption central. She’s unpacking st
uff and cleaning at our home. Dust collects after a couple years away. I admit, at least in Pacific Grove, we are able to do something about criminals. Besides, Rachel’s moving into political circles. I knew that would spark a revolution here. Sonny’s folks fled the meeting five minutes after it started.”

  “Figures,” Neil replied, chuckling as Sonny hung his head in comedic fashion with Jean giving him a pat on his back. “I had to get over here anyway. Rachel called right after Johnny to let me know how much was accomplished at the meeting, including the Mayor fleeing the building. She asked if we would make sure everyone who came to the meeting safely reached their vehicles. I’ll go get that done. She’s really going for a recall of our dingbat Somali Mafia princess, huh?”

  “Absolutely,” Nick answered. “I’m betting it happens within weeks. We’re hoping to get Rach in as mayor in the recall election.”

  “That would be incredible. I better go help my soon to be next boss.”

  “We all better get in there, before Trashy goes to the mattresses,” Jean said. “Uncle Jian hasn’t seen Mom do her ‘Trailer Trash Momma’ yet. I’ll have to figure a way to get on her last nerve so he can see Trashy in action.”

  “You’re the expert on that,” Nick added. “Let’s go.”

  “Trailer Trash Momma?”

  Gus shoulder hugged Jian. “It would be best to wait and see the transformation in live action, brother. It defies description.”

  “Amen to that,” Nick agreed.

  * * *

  “Nick,” Rachel called out from the Monte Café’s main restaurant.

  “Coming.” Nick washed and dried his hands. He worked short order cook duties when their regular cook called in sick as happened that morning. Nick had made breakfast for his entire extended family earlier as Rachel conducted a meeting to coordinate their patrolling with the Pacific Grove police department. Rachel won the recall election ousting Astur Jama.