|
Dave and Tom left Crawfordville at 5:30 and rode in Tom’s van to Mobile. They picked up another passenger in Atmore named Greg Dunn and arrived at Hope Baptist Church in Mobile at about 7:30. There were several cars, trucks and vans already parked in the church parking lot. Dave still didn’t have much of a clue as to what he’d gotten himself into by agreeing to go to the meeting with Tom. As long as he didn’t have to sign something or pay money, he figured he would be okay. He hoped he wasn’t mixing himself up with a bunch of Kluxers or skinheads.
His fear level elevated when he saw a Confederate flag in a stand on the right side of the podium. There was a United States flag towards the back of the platform, but it looked like it belonged to the church.. The crowd, who were milling around in the back of the church and some who were already seated, looked “normal.” There were several distinguished looking men and women in suits. There were even a few blacks. Dave immediately dismissed the idea of this being a Ku Klux Klan or skinhead rally.
“Looks like were going to have a pretty big turnout tonight,” Tom said.
Not feeling too sure of himself, Dave merely grunted. Their passenger, Greg, had struck up a conversation with someone at the back of the church. Before sitting down, Dave noticed a pleasant smell in the air.
“Is that food?” He asked Tom.
“Sure is,” Tom replied, “they always have a big feed after each meeting.”
That was good news to Dave who hadn’t eaten since lunch. Of course, though, Tom’s reply had set him to wondering who “They” were. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
A tall silver haired man walked to the podium and gestured for everyone to stand up.
“Chaplain Bobby Allen will lead us in a word of prayer.”
Chaplain Allen was a muscular well-built man dressed in what Dave guessed was an expensive suit. He didn’t buy that at Wal-Mart Dave thought...
“Will you stand and bow your heads?” Chaplain Allen began. “Gracious Lord we gather here as men and women humbling ourselves to thee, praying that our deliberations will be pleasing in your sight. As Americans, we gathered here, have endeavored to live your will and obey your laws. Now we find our country moving away from you Lord. Deceitful men and women brimmed with wickedness rule our land. Unborn children are murdered in their mother’s womb, our children cannot openly pray to you in their school classrooms. Their parents find themselves working for foreign masters or not working at all because their jobs have been shipped overseas. Our once healthy bounty is now contaminated with disease shipped to us in produce containers from far off lands. At this meeting, we, like the ancient Hebrews under the yoke of bondage in Babylon, wish to separate ourselves from this evil. We wish to go our way and form our own nation in this beautiful southern land in which we live. We know our task is daunting, but we also know, Gracious Lord, that with You all things are possible. We ask Your blessing on our deliberations and also ask You to imbue us with wisdom as we make the critical decisions that will turn our ship into an uncharted sea. All these things we pray in the Name of your Loving Son, our Savior, Christ Jesus. Amen.”
A resounding “Amen” sounded from the now swollen crowd that filled the church pews. The silver haired man returned to the podium.
“I move that the second conference of The Magnolia Society come to order. Do I hear a second?”
A seconding motion was heard and the silver haired man began the conference. Dave later learned the silver haired man was Dr. Jerrod Andrews head of the history department of a local university. No dumb redneck here, Dave thought.
The first part of the conference consisted of listing the assorted grievances that had brought them together. Boiled down the conference was tired of their rights being stripped away by an imperious and arrogant U.S. government and court system. They were tired of multinational corporations influencing the U.S. government to the exclusion of taxpayers and voters. They were especially weary of southern culture being supplanted by an alien and illegal culture that was growing an expanding at the edges of their towns and cities.
The second part of the conference was a breakout and a muster. The first part of the meeting was very open about the group’s aims and if there were any weak sisters in the crowd, most would have been out the door before the beginning of the breakout sessions. Dave and Tom joined a breakout session on security. Both had unique qualifications.
Once in the session they discovered that, several of the men and a few of the women had military experience ranging from WWII to Iraq. There were one retired general, a retired Navy captain, and an assortment of grunts like themselves.
Dave felt his depression lifting...
Meanwhile outside the church
Outside the church, parked at an angle with a full view of the parking lot was a black van with the logo “Bay Electrical Repair” painted on the panels. Inside were two men and one woman. The woman monitored the bugs placed at various locations in the church and one man controlled the three hidden cameras placed outside the van to monitor activity in the church parking lot. The third man was the driver and lookout in case police or curious passers-by happened upon their location.
“See anything Joe?” The man controlling the hidden cameras asked.
“Nothing except that old homeless black man that’s about to topple over on the sidewalk.” Joe said.
“Ignore him. Keep your eyes open for cops or any beefed up types coming out of that church.”
“Gotcha.”
The “old homeless black man” was known to the locals as “fifty dollar Bob.” His name came because he would do anything-nefarious – except murder – for fifty dollars. At the moment he was inching his way along the sidewalk towards the van. His movements were unobserved by its three occupants.
In Bob’s coverall pocket were round tire puncturing spikes. He carefully worked his way around the car so slowly that an observer would think he was a homeless man asleep on the sidewalk. He placed spikes under three of the tires. Finishing the job which he was paid fifty dollars to do, Bob took a ball of crumpled but sturdy duct tape and shoved it tightly up the van’s exhaust pipe. Then he clumsily got to his feet and staggered up the sidewalk, walking directly in view of the van’s lookout.
“That old geezer’s gone, thank God!” Joe said.
An hour later
Three husky guys walked out of the church across the parking lot and towards the parked van.
“Uh-oh.” Joe said, “Let’s get out of here.” He started the engine. The van started moving but something was wrong with the tire traction. Then the engine with built up exhaust from the plugged pipe flooded out. The three men were upon them. One took a hammer and smashed the window of the passenger door then reached inside and flipped the switch which unlocked the back door.
Despite the protests and weak efforts of the technicians inside the van to fight, the three men smashed most of the equipment and removed all tapes and disks. Then they left as quickly as they arrived. Homeland Security’s surveillance efforts against the Magnolia Society were wasted. There had been no warrant and therefore no legal recourse. Wasted…
GO TO CHAPTER THREE.
|
