Home > culture, life, religion, romance, vigilante > Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 15)

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 15)

I turned around and stretched out on my stomach. I was right beside Naomi Cheslow, watching the gathered Aryan bikers through the foliage. On my other side lay Aileen Schachter, the woman who lured me into N3 in the first place. Now I found myself making war on this Aryan gang because of their anti-semitic attack on former neighbours from the area where I was born.

I watched as ballistics expert Naomi Cheslow calmly switched her sending unit from intermittent red light to steady green. After a moment, as the splendid motorcycles were parked on their kick-stands and the bikers advanced on the white door with the Jewish star painted on it in blue, Naomi pushed the red button. It was confusing to see this stunning woman, tall and lean, lying on her stomach in the dirt and pushing a button to set off an enormous explosion.

The barn first blasted straight up from its foundation. The charges that Naomi had set during the night fired exactly as she had planned. The concussive force of the nine simultaneous blasts knocked the bikers flat on their backs. Their motorcycles, each a gleaming example of mechanical beauty and power, sprawled out in the dirt. Meticulous airbrushed artworks of licking flames, glowering skulls and metallic finishes skidded in the dirt.

The barn dropped back onto its foundation and collapsed outward. The grey, planked walls folded back like an enormous flower opening. The gang’s inventory was momentarily revealed when all the blasted barn parts flew into the air. During the seconds before the debris descended onto the neatly arranged motorcycles, pickup trucks and motorhomes, we saw them. Seconds later, the contents of the barn were buried in debris as the vast roof fell in on them.

As previously instructed, we all lay still. The N3 fighters all around the barn site held their positions. Some were in the tall grasses of the adjacent fields, some were in the nearby pine forest, and the three of us lay on the hilltop overlooking the barn. I lay my Uzi across my arms in readiness, just in case. Beside me, Aileen held her machine pistol at the read, and Naomi watched the bikers staggering to their feet with a serene smile on her extraordinary face.

The voices of the baffled, furious Aryan bikers sounded like a pride of lions that is being attacked by swarms of hornets. It was difficult to make out the words because they were all growling and sputtering at the same time. After a moment they quieted down as they set about helping each other right their machines. They grumbled to each other about the damage to their beloved bikes. Their apparent leader shouted over all of them.

“It was those fucking Jews!” he said.

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