Push Back: The Act of Forcing an Enemy to Withdraw - Softcover

Merriman, James E.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 144018142X ISBN 13: 9781440181429

Verlag: iUniverse, 2009

Inhaltsangabe

TERRORISTS ARE HERE - NOW! A hundred have crossed the Mexican border to attack us where we live and work with bombs, explosives, and sniper attacks. Their trump cards are two nuclear weapons. Push Back is ripped from tomorrow's headlines. To protect us from terrorist attacks, American foreign policy pushes democracy and, if necessary, regime changes in other countries. In order to protect themselves, foreign governments co-opt jihadists from many Islamic countries, train and equip them and then, turn them loose in the United States. The administration of newly-elected President Janet Sampson is totally unprepared to deal with America's worst nightmare, terrorists in our midst. Schools and businesses close. People flee large cities. The Stock Exchange closes. Chaos descends upon an America that is in the grip of the most contagious disease of all - fear.

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Push Back

(The Act of Forcing an Enemy to Withdraw)By James E. Merriman

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2009 James E. Merriman
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4401-8142-9

Chapter One

2009

Banafrit Amisi's brown eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed as she skillfully guided the remotely controlled mini helicopter through the hot and humid air of Gulfport, Mississippi, toward the Ajax Chemical Plant. She had not mastered this skill during her studies atTulane University; it had come at a Wahhabi training camp in the desert of Saudi Arabia.

The tiny helicopter weighed eighteen pounds but was capable of carrying a twenty-five pound payload. Today it carried only four one-pound blocks of Iranian-manufactured C-4 plastic explosives.

From her vantage point on a low hill about a half mile from the plant, she could see the Ajax Chemical Plant's massive storage tanks of highly pressurized liquefied chlorine gas. Her hands were moist inside latex gloves, and sweat slid down her face. As the helicopter cleared the fence surrounding the plant, she stopped breathing.

This was the moment she had trained for. She detonated the C-4 just before the helicopter crashed into one of the massive storage tanks. This triggered a chemical reaction in which the C-4 decomposed and released a variety of gases which initially expanded at 26,400 feet per second. The explosion, which could be heard for miles, demolished the tank, releasing a cloud of toxic gas.

Gulfport is Mississippi's second largest metropolitan area with over seventy thousand residents, most of whom were located downwind from the explosion. During her training, Amisi had read the Homeland Security-published statistics that this type of incident could result in a toxic cloud extending as far as twenty-five miles, exposing 5 percent of the population to a lethal dose of gas, half of whom would die. An additional 15 percent would require hospitalization, with many others treated and released.

Amisi stood, mouth open, eyes wide, staring at what she had done. Planning was one thing, but seeing the result was unbelievable. Then her training kicked in. She smashed the control device into bits with a rock and flung the pieces around as she walked back to her rental car. There she stripped off her gloves, removed the size 10 men's tennis shoes she had been wearing, and replaced them with size 5 Adidas running shoes. The tennis shoes were destined for a nearby Goodwill drop-off bin. Amisi sported stylishly cut short dark hair, trendy sunglasses, jeans, and a T-shirt; she looked like any other college student.

She exhaled slowly, and self-satisfaction tugged at the corners of her mouth as she drove away, marveling at what one could purchase over the Internet. Not the C-4, of course, but the mini helicopter. She had another helicopter and two remote-controlled model planes hidden near a chemical plant outside New Orleans and two refineries near Houston, Texas.

* * *

Abdul Fahd was lying flat on the ground at the top of a grassy hill overlooking the parking lot for Memorial Hospital in Birmingham, Alabama. From his position behind two low bushes, he was invisible to those below who were streaming in and out of the main entrance.

His hands were dry; the heat didn't bother him, even in his khakis and blue button-down oxford shirt. This was nothing compared to the desert in Afghanistan, where he had spent hour after hour on a remote firing range, preparing himself for this moment and for those to come. For the first time in his life, he was in control. He would choose who would live and who would die. His only regret was that he could not target those who had bullied him during his teenage years in Washington DC.

Fahd's dark eyes smoldered as he picked up the Remington Model 7400 hunting rifle, purchased for cash at a Tucson, Arizona, gun show with his counterfeit driver's license. Later he visited ten different sporting goods stores, each time purchasing two boxes of shells, fifty shells to a box.

The rifle was solid in his hands; it belonged there. It had become an indispensable part of who he was. Fahd made his decision and carefully placed his eye to the scope. His heart rate was its usual sixty-five beats per minute. He sighted in on a woman in purple floral scrubs, probably a nurse hurrying to work; a perfect target. He slowly inhaled and then, exhaling, gently squeezed the trigger. The top of the nurse's head exploded in a spray of pink mist.

Without waiting to see the reaction below, Fahd slithered backward until he was off the crown of the hill, stood, and strolled back to his rental car. Hit and move. Hit and move. It had been drilled into him time and again during his months of training for this mission. He put the rifle in its case and laid it in the trunk. As he drove off on the way to his next stop, he whispered, "Allahu Akbar."

For the briefest of moments, a picture of the nurse's exploding skull flashed before his eyes-an innocent caregiver whose life he had taken.

He shook his head sharply. No. She was an infidel, no better than a cow. No infidel was innocent. This was his jihad; many would die, but that was Allah's will.

* * *

The two hundred thousand residents of San Bernardino were enjoying another sunny California morning as the regular freight train entered the city's outskirts and braked to a crawl. Mohamed Alrifi, a Sudanese dropout from Chino State, sat in his rental car and observed the slow-moving train with cheap binoculars. When he saw what he was looking for, he exited the car and eased down the incline to the train. The gravel crunched under his Nike running shoes as he nonchalantly walked alongside the train track, glancing from time to time at the passing tank cars. Only a trained observer would notice that the pockets of his cargo pants sagged and bumped against his legs as he walked. There was no one to observe him, however, for there was no security, and the half-mile-long train was manned by three employees who hadn't slept all night.

When the first of two silver tank cars with large black lettering boldly proclaiming HAZMAT pulled abreast of him, Alrifi, in one smooth, practiced motion, reached into his left side pocket and extracted a one-pound block of Iranian C-4 encased in synthetic webbing. With his right hand he ripped off a strip of tape, exposing an adhesive, and in the same motion stuck the packet to the side of the passing tanker. Next came the C-4 block from his other side pocket, and the process was repeated on the next car. The whole process had taken less than ten seconds.

Alrifi turned away from the train and jogged back to his rental car. When he was a mile away from the train, at about the time it should have been in the center of the urban area, he dialed a cell phone number. The signal detonated the C-4, exploding both tank cars and producing a massive chemical cloud.

Alrifi knew only that his mission was to blow up two tankers of some kind of hazardous material. An hour later, he heard a news report on the radio that he had hit the jackpot. The tank cars contained methyl bromide, a colorless gas with practically no odor. It was used as a fumigant to control insects and was poisonous at room temperature. The gas would soon be causing the good people of San Bernardino headaches, dizziness, and nausea. Many in the immediate vicinity might receive a fatal dose.

Transportation of this and other hazardous material through urban areas was perfectly legal and...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: iUniverse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2009
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 144018142X
• ISBN 13: 9781440181429
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 316
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: KreGa Onlinehandel GmbH; 4950000000000; info@krega-onlinehandel.de; ; Birkenweg 31; Brakel; 33034; Deutschland