The Everpresent Threat

All Rights Reserved ©

The Islamic Republic of Palestine

Abdullah strutted around the bunker barking orders at men who obeyed him without question. This was his moment of glory, his moment of triumph, and he was feeling expansive as he stared across at the leader of the Free World tied up and supplicant before his power.

“You want to know how I masterminded this little party “Mister” President.”

He put his face directly in front of the leader of the Free World to make sure his current status was seen and recognized by all those around.

“I’m sure you’re curious. I will tell you. It was easy. Even after 9/11, your society is so free I was able to film your comings and goings for several years from rented offices on Seventeenth street. And your closing of Pennsylvania Avenue made it easy for us and our sympathizers to act as tourists in front of your house while we carried out sophisticated intelligence gathering about you and your peoples’ movements.”

“Frankly, even I was surprised at how easy it all was. Our Imams told us how easy it would be, and I am sorry to say I doubted his word. But he was right. When he first set aside that bank account in Switzerland before he died in 1989 it was all just a dream and a plan. Now, praise Allah, it is so real you are having trouble breathing just looking at me, no?”

“They knew Americans had no stomach for bloodshed like they’ve made others shed in the Islamic nations like Iraq and Afghanistan, and they realized that striking at the heart of the beast was the best way to bring it to its knees, the way you strike at a lambs heart first, then carve it up for a meal later.”

“I thought that during my student days at George Washington University before we brought the Shah down, but it turned out to be more lax than I thought when I presented the idea to our great martyr, Osama bin Laden. They thought I was crazy until I showed Al-Qaeda film footage of how open and vulnerable even the United States still was. The Europeans were always easy to hit, but your people had tightened things up after 9/11, but not enough.”

“They had never lived here as I had so I had to educate them. When your judges used to let our martyrs out on technicalities your lawyers could always seem to find, I knew it was possible. When your ACLU was able to get our people from Guantanamo freed, I knew it was possible. When your bureaucrats fought each other for turf while we organized and trained, I knew it was possible.”

Even then, I know that pig Arafat only allows them to give me money because he fully expected to see me butchered like a common gate crasher at the White House. Well...Arafat now knows who leads the cause now. While he gets fat off the largesse of the West and his Saudi benefactors, I lead the charge against the Zionists and their supporters.”

“They must now listen to me. There are ways to change history and in the struggle against capitalist Zionists all means are good that are effective.”

President Magarity looked at his adversary and knew immediately what he was dealing with in this man. Not a man as much as a cause because the cause always determined the actions. He recalled another man like this in the section of his brain that held the politicians he had defeated in elections in the past. That man was in North Philadelphia. All bravado but with the necessary brute force to get his way if bluster did not work.

They got away with what they did because they could. To oppose them was folly. But they could be gotten around. There was always a place on the periphery of their cause that, if worked on enough, could lead to their downfall. Just as he had defeated that vain, corrupt and brutal party boss in Philadelphia, he knew he could defeat this man, given enough time. Flattery until they revealed their weak point had worked in the past with such men. Why not try it with Abdullah?

“Tell me, Abdullah? How did you come to penetrate the most secure building in the world? It must have taken years of careful planning. And how did you pick your other targets? What did you consider strategic and why was it strategic in your eyes?” President Magarity asked this knowing that most men were perfectly willing to talk about what they did for a living, if given the opportunity. He also planned to use the knowledge gained to cane the candy asses of his security planners.

“We had a fifth column as you used to say in the Cold War days. You see, there are Americans who hate America and consider it as evil and vile a nation as us. One was an older female lawyer in New York City. Some are converts. Thousands came here and worked and gave us their money and their lives."

"Very good workers, I should add. Pity you didn’t know it but they’ve been strategically placed throughout your military, government, and critical military defense complex for years. Some are guards, some taxi drivers, some small shop owners, some programmers, and some are even nuclear scientists. Wild, isn’t it?

Before Abdullah could continue, Mohmood Sabeti and Mehdi Razavi, to Iranian contributions to the July 4th Strike Force cane in and shouted, “Communications links established, Supreme Commander! Transmission lines clearly established from focal points to five primary surrounding targets: Pentagon, The new World Trade Center, The Sears Tower, Wall Street, and the Diablo nuclear power plant."

"We have made entry to Andrews Air Force Base and control the air control towers. All American news sources are now reporting to the world that we have the American President and many American leaders hostage. Phase One of Operation Caliph has been achieved.”

Both men reporting had attended MIT many years before, and both graduated magnum cum laude in electrical engineering. They were some of the best electrical engineers in the world and, like members of Adolph Hitler’s propaganda ministry, were willing to put their rare skills to the use of a charismatic leader.

Abdullah was ecstatic. “Long live Palestine! Long live the Palestinian people! Long live the Ayatollah! Long live the martyrs who have sacrificed to make this day possible!”

“Shall we transmit back to our bases in...” before Mohmood Sabeti could finish the sentence Abdullah struck him in the face.

“SHUT UP! Will you reveal everything? Do you not know there are Zionists, Jews, capitalists and imperialists here more than anywhere else!? And you would reveal everything to them. Now return to your posts and I will give directions as soon as I am finished here.” Mahmood rubbed the red mark on his cheek, bowed, and exited.

“Now...shackle my new friend the American President and bring him with me. I have an audience waiting and they deserve a first-rate performance.” All about, Jihadi’s started to move quickly, binding up and gagging the Americans in their capture and separating the President toward the door. He was walked through the door and carried by six men like a diver in a mosh pit to the White House Press room."

"There, he was wrapped in an American flag and tied and chained on top of the Lincoln Desk that had been carried down for just this purpose."

The White House media corps, sniffing the biggest stories of their careers, had shown up almost the minute the Jihadi’s had attacked. Following an old rule of Abdullah’s, as in the past, they had been given first-class treatment by his men and women from the minute they identified themselves as having the bone fides -- heavy press or other media credentials. Some of the biggest names in journalism were now biting at the bit to beat out the persons around them to be the first to parrot what Abdullah was about to spoon feed them.

He knew the fact that he was famous and alive at this moment was a credit to his ability to use the American and International Media, and he was not about to bite the hand that fed his need for publicity, exposure, and attention. All three led to new recruits for his cause, and his cause, as President Magarity had correctly assessed, was what he lived for.

“Palestinian heroes, July 4th Strike Force Freedom Fighters, members of the international media.....defeated and discouraged Americans...(he knew the power of a long pause in such a crisis, and he let his next words hang in the air)...listen carefully to what I will tell you right now.”

He let the cameras pan over his person, loaded with ammunition, suicide belt explosives, pistols, and an AK-47 of the kind the former Soviet Union ginned out by the millions before the empire collapsed, and the picture received by one third of the world’s population was exactly the one he had intricately planned -- an immobile and shackled American President with plastic explosives around his neck while he stood fully in control and powerfully armed, an image that would command respect worldwide.

The picture reflected psychological warfare lessons he had learned in Iraq. It was designed to force the Americans to negotiate with him. Like the parents of hostage Russian children with whom he had dealt, he knew this game better than they did. He had come a long way from his graduation ceremony from George Washington University in Constitution Hall several blocks away. Far indeed.

He engaged the cameras directly as he made his statement to the entire world. “This demand is nonnegotiable. Palestine now exists. The Zionists who now occupy it will leave immediately. The United Nations will grant the Palestinian nation the status Israel once held at the UN and will vote immediately to disbar the illegitimate former state of Israel.

All infidels must leave the Middle East as well. Behind me you see the President of the United States. His life, and the lives of many other Americans, depends on the immediate answer to this question.”

“We have soldiers placed strategically throughout the enemies’ territory. What we have done thus far is minor compared to what we are prepared to do if our demands are not met immediately. On my word, the White House, the Capital, the Washington Monument, the Pentagon, the Sears Tower, the Transamerica Building, the Space Needle, Disney World, the World Bank, which I assure you comes down this time -- and many other sites the American people treasure, and the American people within several miles of those sites, will all be eliminated."

"You must realize by now that we mean business. You have no option but to capitulate because I can cause more death and destruction than your very own Civil War brought down on your heads.”

“We know the Americans felt so terrible about what happened to the Jews during World War Two that they created Israel out of guilt. That is fine as long as that leads to a homeland in America or Europe, anywhere but in an Islamic country where they never belonged after Abraham anyway. You Americans figure out where they should go, but the planes and boats must begin to line up now because the Jews will leave the Islamic lands or the Americans who make their crimes possible will be annihilated.”

Abdullah saw before him the best of the American and international media corps. He quickly measured the effect of his words on them and knew instinctively that he was having an impact. If they believed him, as he knew from past experience, those who depended on them for their information would believe him. That was good. He stepped slightly to the side of the podium to ensure that the President’s helpless and bomb-rigged body was visible to the cameras.

A satellite dish in Winchester, Maryland was pulling down the same image that was being broadcast to the rest of the world -- a forlorn and broken man at the mercy of his captors. But Frank McKenna took hope from a gesture he noticed that indicated that the President was yet defiant.

“Look at the President’s fingers, man! He’s flipping the diaper head the bird! The old coots got guts, man, I’ll hand him that! Any of those camel jocky’s figures out what he’s doing that he’s in for a pretty fierce beating I’d imagine.” Around a television screen in Maryland sixty-five men high fived each other and cheered the President’s courage. The seeds of a massive fight back were germinating.

“Can Failte!” Frank McKenna screamed.

“What’s that mean, Sergeant?!” he asked.

“Oh, I had an old Irish great grandmother. When she was faced with impossible odds she would revert back to the Gaelic she learned as a little girl. “Can Failte meant, Fight Back!’ Sounds pretty appropriate to me.”

“CAN FAILTE!!!” all the special ops guys began to repeat and smile. “CAN FAILTE!!!”

“Sergeant McKenna, you just gave us the name of our operation. Do you know any more Gaelic?”


“Good. The Marines used the Navajo code talkers to great effect against the Japs. We’re going to locate every Gaelic speaker from here to Galway Bay. Our communications are so compromised right now I want our most secure communications encrypted in Gaelic and transmitted. I can’t imagine there are too many of Abdullah’s boys and girls who speak it.”


Around the nation, a physical symbol of defiance that was universally recognized galvanized a nation. If the President, who was in chains, blindfolded, and hooked to explosives, was willing to so boldly defy these people, then why couldn’t the rest of the nation?

Maybe the President was just a reflection of the American belief that people cannot be forced against their will to take acts they do not believe in. Maybe it was just raw courage. Whatever it was, it was giving a shell-shocked nation something to rally around.

Instantly, around the world, along with the demands of Abdullah and his gang, a picture was printed showing not a defeated President, as they had hoped, but one who was willing to risk his life to protect the nation. The American people all knew what the President meant by that sign: “FUCK YOU!!!” And they were willing to follow that command.

A call was placed by the acting President of the United States, the Senior Senator from Wyoming, Senator George Pressler, who had been fortunate enough to be in his home state for a family funeral and thus out of harm’s way, to Central Command in Paw Paw, Maryland. One of the many wonders of the American Government was how clearly the Founding Fathers had planned for such eventualities as the decapitation of the leadership of the American state, and how they’re Constitutional safeguards ensured an orderly and quick succession of power.

By now, with airlifted, trucked, and railroad links to supply routes and depots established, troops and material were arriving at a phenomenal rate to Paw Paw. Similar outposts were being established in the hinterlands of North America and being readied for the cleansing that would wash the invaders from the American homeland.

Everyone knew it would be a bloody and ugly counterattack when it was launched in full, and every measure was being taken to ensure its success.

The most important link in all this was the computer bulletin boards, on-line services, and amateur radio links Americans enjoyed with each other. With the attack, millions of people began to use their home computers to contact each other and to verify attack points and terrorist troop movements.

This information was then fed to National Guard units who in turn ensured that it flowed up the chain of command to the top leadership of the American military.

“Possum One, this is Possum Gravy. All Possum crews are ready and operating. We will begin the assault at 0400 tomorrow.” This false signal was sent from Paw Paw via Autovan as it was known this was so fully compromised that the Jihadi’s would read it before anyone else. The real directions were going out over common, hard-lie phone lines that were now safer than the most secure military security systems.

As every phone conversation was impossible to monitor, the decision had been made at Paw Paw to use these phone lines because it was known that it would be impossible to ferret out the intelligence commands from the millions of other calls that were being placed at the same time.

After this false call was relayed, a secure call was placed by Acting President Pressler to Sgt. Frank McKenna. “Sgt., you know how important this mission is to your fellow Americans. May God give you strength and courage in abundance to remove this scourge from our land and our families.”

“I’m awaiting the order to go to the Forest Entrance, Sir.”

That was the name given to the early launch option that had been quickly worked out between Sgt. Frank McKenna and the top brass.

“Go to the Forest Entrance. Godspeed.” Sgt. McKenna looked all round him at the generals and admirals assembled. Each nodded carefully. He now had permission to launch early. As one who had learned the benefit of surprise from years of hunting, he was grateful.

“I’ll be back. Count on it.” Frank McKenna said as he exited the cabin to gather his gear and men. All were dressed as Abdullah’s men had been in the latest media presentation, and as they ran to the waiting helicopters they looked the very part of the men they were about to engage in battle. They scrambled into the choppers and were airborne in seconds.

The pilots located the North Branch of the Potomac River and sped down its waters until they arrived at White’s Ford, about thirty miles above Washington, DC This was the site of the famous Ball’s Bluff battle where President Lincoln lost is best friend and some of the finest units of the Army of the Potomac early in the Civil War. It was an excellent place to land the choppers as it was far enough from Washington, DC to avoid radar detection.

Here they were loaded into an assortment of Chevy 10 Blazers, Dodge Ram trucks, and Chrysler Minivans that were indistinguishable from any of the thousands of vehicles being driven that day by panic-stricken civilians fleeing from the death and destruction or trying to locate loved ones to protect them from this alien onslaught.

Sgt. McKenna knew that a truck column made too easy a target for any Jihadi’s who somehow figured out who they were so he ordered that each driver institute standard guerrilla tactics -- i.e. “Blend in with the local Yuppies. Steal a few Mercedes Benzes, Volvos, 280-Z’s, anything these Yuppies like to drive that makes us stand out less.”

Within several minutes, the citizens of Potomac and Chevy Chase, unbeknownst to them, contributed their prized autos and symbols of their power and wealth, to the material that would free a nation. One can only speculate how freely they would have made the contribution of their autos had they not been “liberated” from their homes.

It was not long before these fine foreign auto products would be put to use as flying wedges against foreign commando units.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.