The Everpresent Threat

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Gloary, Glory, Alleluhia

All across America that day skyscrapers were being stormed, subways were being rushed, and nuclear power plants were being recaptured. Each procedure required a careful combination of aggression and caution.

To a nation that, even after 9/11, had considered itself immune from such large-scale terrorist’s assault and thus woefully unprepared, the outcome of the counterattack was far more positive than should have been expected.

New York City, though the best prepared, suffered greater losses than anywhere else except Washington, D.C. What made this assault succeed where the earlier attempt had failed was that the people who blew it up this time spent years in a Black Muslim terrorist school while serving time in Attica prison.

For the dozens of cleaning people, cafeteria workers, food stand owners and false front company operators, the years of effort and patience paid dividends when they watched thousands of unarmed Americans slaughtered.

That tens of thousands of people died and hundreds of others were horribly injured they considered inconsequential. After all, as they knew from their years of lessons in prison and in Black Muslim mosques throughout New York, this death and destruction to the Blue eyed Devil was predestined. Those thousands of black, yellow, and brown skinned people were also killed and injured was the price to be paid to right the centuries of wrongs suffered under the Man’s racist society.

The subways of New York were a nightmare for the military and New York Police Department to flush out. Captain Malony’s experience at the station under Wall Street was representative.

“Gomez, try to slink along that side wall and see if you can get a bead on where that sniper is. We’ll cover you from all sides.”

“O.K., Captain. Give me support when I need it I’ll get this guy good.”

From only twenty-five yards ahead Mustafi Mohammed El-Kareem, convicted murderer, strong armed robber, car hijacker, rapist and flim flam artist who had only spent three years in Attica for his crimes against humanity, hunkered down and kept his finger squarely on the trigger of his Street sweeper and his AK-47.

Converted to the Black Muslim schism a mere two years ago, he now wondered if it would not have been better to do it the old way: commit crime with no ideological or religious cover and risk the unlikely prospect of doing real time.

Preparing to die has a way of focusing a man’s mind, and now Anphronee Jackson, wondered if it would be better to flee or fire back again and face almost certain concentrated return fire. Before he could finish the thought, one-striper Gomez read the infrared form in his scope to be the terrorist he was tracking.

He shot one bullet into Mustafi’s, aka Anphronee’s, head, and ended an all too common criminal’s career and a future burden to the American taxpayer.

“Captain! He’s history.”

“Good work, Gomez. I hear from Central we have a few more this way. We’ll sweep this tunnel to 22nd and then take a break.”

It was this kind of skirmish, one one one, five on three, kind of battle that raged for two weeks in the New York subway system.

While Abdullah had very detailed and finely planned out operations for taking and holding hundreds of New York subway cars with hostages as bargaining chips to facilitate his escape, this was Phase II of his attack plan and one that he had not shared for fear of tipping off the American authorities.

He had held it close to his chest until he had been killed by Frank McKenna. Fortunately for thousands of innocent New Yorkers, it was a plant that did not get implemented.

Other battles raged above ground. New York cops, and even thousands of uniformed and armed New York security guards, began to take matters into their own hands. They didn’t wait for an order from Washington to get started. They just returned fire.

And once the Federal government realized the extent of the assault, they opened up the various armories in and around New York and armed the cops with .50 calibers and others with M-16’s. It began to even the balance of weapons and they began to score repeated victories over the Jihadi’s, foreign and native born, once they had the right equipment.

One great victory was the interception by the Coast Guard of an Adbullah suicide squad that was set to blow up the Statue of Liberty. The Coast Guard cutter that intercepted them thought they were serious drug runners because they failed to return their call sign and jammed their signal.

As the Coast Guard had recently retrofitted their cutters were heavy guns because of their more risky encounters with drug runners recently, they were able to train their cannon fire on the two cigarette boats that were racing toward the Statue.

When the boat failed to answer the call, it was easy for Lt. JG O’Reilly to order, “Fire!” after he saw the Jihadi’s aiming right at him. The concussion from the explosion of these cigarette boats was of such impact that he quickly realized that these were no mere drug runners.

Once he made sure his men and women were safe and had not taken any casualties from the explosions, he put them all on notice, like most other military leaders throughout the nation that until this was over, they were at work for the duration.

In the case of Lt. JG O’Reilly’s command, they were to honor themselves by intercepting terrorist and Black Muslim watercraft from one end of Manhattan to the other, thereby preventing far more bloodshed ashore.

Chicago was another city that, given the magnitude and surprise of the terrorist’s assault, handled Abdullah’s July Fifth Strike Force far better than could have been expected. The reason was the fact that the political leadership of the city still had real people, not consultants, who reported to him on every facet of city life.

When the attack came, a ward healer, Tyrone Smith, had the word to the Mayor, Liam Collins, faster than it took the Jihadi’s to hear their full attack plans from their leaders.

Tyrone used the number the Mayor had given him once at a political breakfast that was to be used, “only in an emergency.”

“Mr. Mayor, this is Tyrone Smith, Ward 5. We got one hellva shake down happnin.”

“Good to hear from you, Tyrone. Any idea what it could be?”

“I don’t know. It’s big, though. Guns are goin’ off everywhere. This ain’t no drug deal gone bad.”

“Any estimate on the size or any other information that might be of help?”

“Hundred. Maybe two. They’re armed big time an they lookin’ to kill.”

“Thanks, Tyrone. Direct the police when they get there.” They Mayor walked calmly to his computer, turned it on, and hit the icon that said, “KABOOM.” On the screen, another icon appeared that said, “Full Alert.”

When he clicked on that button, the $2,400.00 software package that the City Council had viciously attacked him for in the last election, paid out dividends to every American in Chicago.

Because with the click of that icon, every police officer, fireman, emergency medical technician, water plant worker, federal and state coordinating agency and various and sundry other webbed computer systems and individuals, were put on maximum alert.

It had also cost to make sure that Chicago’s node of the World Wide Web had backup servers, bridges, and routers to ensure they worked. Given the extreme weather in Chicago, it was a cost the City Council had not complained about; especially when the Mayor made it clear that the installation and maintenance work would be carried out by, “our Chicago people.”

It was a system so well installed and maintained that the July Fifth Strike Force, and their Black Muslim auxiliary forces, was wiped out in just under twenty-four hours in the City of Broad Shoulders.

Seattle was not so lucky. The Space Needle, a symbol of the city’s and American technological superiority, lay in pieces because it had been targeted early on by one of Adbullah’s students at the University of Washington.

A brilliant mechanical engineering student on an American scholarship, he had spent months examining all the structural weaknesses in the edifice that had been a marvel of free standing architecture in the 1960’s and noted that time had taken its toll on its strength and durability.

He planted just the right amount of explosives in all the right crevices to assure it landed over three square miles of downtown Seattle.

What he had not counted on was that this act would wake up the citizens of the Seattle area unlike anything else. When the news of the destruction of the Space Needle traveled through the Puget Sound community, both the military and civilian populations mustered enough firepower to beat the Jihadi’s at their own terms.

Unlike most cities, the black Muslims were not a large presence here and that fact denied them the fifth column benefits.

The last Jihadi’s eradicated were a group of students who spend more time at the Settle Fish Market than in classes at the U of W so they fled there and tried to make a last desperate stand. Homeowners from Queen Anne and other sections of the city had been deputized by the Mayor of the city and formed tough auxiliary units to the city’s police.

When the Jihadi’s took up positions inside the Fish Market they sprayed machine gun fire into the crowd that was shopping there, killing and wounding hundreds. But their time was coming.

Once the police were certain every American who could be saved was out of the Fish Market, they had the Navy bring up a battle cruiser out on the Puget Sound side of the Fish Market. In classic Iowa Jima style, the Navy bombarded the Fish Market for three straight hours.

Unlike Iowa Jima, the Jihadi’s had no bunkers to protect them, and it was an easy and quickly accomplished assault to retake the rubble of the Fish Market.

One terrible terrorist success was in New England at the Seabrook nuclear power plant. When it came to an all-out terrorist assault, security was lax at most American power plants. It was especially lax at Seabrook.

They were experts at turning away and arresting Earth First! and other Green protestors. They were far less prepared to repel a well-financed, well-directed terrorist assault. It showed when the actual attack arrived at their gates.

Abdullah had put time into this segment of his assault because he knew Seabrook was very close to major population centers in the New England and the Northeast and could therefore be a potentially devastating blow to the American ability to counterattack. It would also be a crown prize with which to negotiate if the assault on the President ran into any serious problems.

His commandos approached the plant in common servicing trucks, the ones that bring soda, toilet paper, and paper to any American business. It kept the minimum wage, under trained guards comfortable long enough that they could be gassed and killed.

The electrical and nuclear engineers among his mob quickly reset the controls on the guard’s security computer to give them access to the interior chambers of the building.

The fortuitous call of Frank McKenna back when he liberated the President had gone out to a wide web of interconnected authorities, one of whom was the Federal Emergency Management Agency, or at least those parts of it that could be cobbled together after the black Muslims who worked there did their damage.

Although they were now 99% natural disaster and 1% nuclear disaster prepared, in large part because pre-election monetary largesse could help the incumbent president toward reelection, they still had a few remaining nuclear power experts who wiped the cob webs off the phone, took the call from the CIA station chief in Cairo who had been able to reach them via a satphone, and got the number to Seabrook.

He then called in and pretended to be one of Abdullah’s advisors. His advice was to remain pat for now. That now was long enough to get a complete special forces team there to exterminate them and to free most of the remaining hostages who had been able to hide.

San Francisco suffered severe damage to its famous TransAmerica building and to the other beautiful and historic buildings that are so dangerous in an earthquake but so splendid all other times. The Jihadi’s in that city were a collection of cells organized by the Shining Path immigrants and cadres of black Muslims native to the city.

Together they went about indiscriminately killing whomever they could find. In a city used to saying, “Live and let live!” to everyone, there arose an immediate fight to the Jihadi’s once they saw that dead and mutilated bodies were the result of their version of “not let live.”

Towns in Minnesota, South Dakota, Central Pennsylvania, Washington State and elsewhere that the U.S. State Department had been resettling hundreds of thousands of Somali’s, Ethiopians, Egyptians, Iraqi’s and Afghans, brought them in without regard to their hatred of all non-Muslims. On this day, they struck with a murderous intent that matched anything seen in the big American cities.

Only the fact that so many rural Americans were still able to use the guns their city cousins were denied kept casualties in the heartland far lower than in those cities.

One American installation that successfully held off the Jihadi’s was the Kennedy Space Flight Center. Security there had been beefed up because of a recent scandal whereby NASA secrets were walking out via highly paid informers on the inside of the final assembly building.

The Chinese were receiving billions of dollars’ worth of free technological information by having their graduate students work there after graduation to act as a pipeline to China of the latest American space innovations.

A Senate investigating following the arrest of seventeen errant employees also uncovered the inadequate security. The Senate ordered that a detachment of Marines be assigned to regular duty at the base, much as they had been for the Manhattan Project.

As has often happened in American history, good fortune smiled on American’s in the most difficult of circumstances.

When the Jihadi’s made their assault at Cape Kennedy they were greeted by a full division of very young and very dedicated Marines.

Faced with formidable return fire and met on their own terms the Marines had no trouble making short shrift of their enemy.

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