Natural born americans, p.1
Natural Born Americans, page 1
Natural Born Americans
By: J. Stoute
Copyright © 2016
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CHAPTER ONE
“Tim Hartford reporting from Boston, Massachusetts where it has been confirmed that twenty-one people have been killed and thirty-six injured from what authorities are calling a senseless act of violence. The shooters, Sa’id Aamir, Ghadir Sakina, and Hakeem Isma’il, were all students at the University of Boston. Officials are unwilling to update us on the conditions of the three men. There will be a 5:00 pm news conference where we hope to learn more. Again, twenty-one dead, thirty-six injured in another senseless mass shooting on American soil….”
This is becoming all too common. Muslims declared war on the West many years ago, and still we live with several attacks a year without any form of retaliation. Something needs to be done and if our government won’t do anything, it’s up to us to take matters into our own hands. Think I’ll give Trey a call and see if he’s heard about this, thought Xander Sellers, a tall, thin man with a dark complexion. Since the day he left the military, Xander had become a news hog, always reading articles and watching programs about the direction the US was headed, both social and political. At thirty-two years of age, he felt that the country was going in the wrong direction and nothing was being done to stop it. Xander came to the realization that both major parties were working toward the country’s demise, where all politicians seemed to be self-serving. After serving two tours in combat zones, Xander felt he put it all on the line for the wrong reason. As American soldiers were wounded, killed, and just messed up in the head because of orders from the establishment, we, as a country, were losing the war here at home, on our own soil. He experienced firsthand the effects of war and how it could damage a man’s way of thinking. It was after the 9/11 attacks, when radical Muslims declared war on the West, that Xander wanted to be part of that war. He took an oath to defend the United States of America, both its people and the Constitution, against all enemies, foreign and domestic, when he served for nine years in the US Army. This latest attack on innocent Americans caused Xander to think that enough was enough. No enemy should be allowed to wage war on another without repercussions.
“Trey, did you see the news today?”
“Yes man, what’s up? Oh, you’re talking about Boston?”
“Yes, did you see that?”
“Yes, I sure did, seems like it’s happening more and more.”
“Yea, I don’t know how much more we are expected to take.”
“I agree man.”
“Are you doing anything tonight?”
“No, I hadn’t thought of it really. What are you up to?”
“Not much, hell, why don’t you and Jasmine come over? We’ll throw something on the pit.”
“That’s cool. How does 5:30 sound?”
“Yes, that’s great. It’ll give me some time to go out and pick up a few things.”
“Cool, we’ll see you then.”
Xander maintained a steady pace as he walked through the aisles of the grocery store closely inspecting the steak packaging for expiration dates and quality before placing them into his shopping cart along with potatoes for baking and the makings for a green salad. While returning home, Xander realized that he had forgotten to buy beer for the night so he had to make a quick detour to the Quick Stop convenience store to purchase a case.
It was 4:45 when Trey turned into the driveway, being his usual early self. Xander greeted his visitors as they exited the car, “You two are just in time for me to light the pit.”
“You can’t ever call me late for dinner, that’s for sure.” Trey joked as his dimples could clearly be seen while he smiled. A year younger than Xander, Trey carried himself as a well-educated individual all the while being down to earth. His light skin would confuse many as to his race.
“I’ll vouch for that,” Jasmine said with a smile. Jasmine was Trey’s wife of seven years. She was dark complected compared to Trey’s light skin. She had a narrow, oblong face with angular cheekbones and a pointed chin. Jasmine was an inch taller than Trey without the use of high heels.
Rather than going through the house, the three of them walked around instead. As they reached the back porch, Xander pointed out the ice chest that was placed against the outside wall.
“Grab me one while you’re in there, brother,” Xander said as he turned his attention to squirting lighter fluid over the waiting coals.
With the flame extending well past the grill, the three of them sat and talked while waiting for the coals to glow with heat.
“Do you think we’ll ever reach a point when America stops being so damned politically correct and starts protecting itself?” asked Xander. The seriousness of his question was confirmed as his smile vanished, and he looked directly at Trey.
“What do you mean?” Trey asked.
“I’ll go in and prepare the salad while you two talk. It would be much more productive for me. You both know I’m not into all of this political talk,” Jasmine said as she seemed to shy away from their known political views.
“Alright baby, but you should be interested in what we’re talking about. After all, we’re talking about what in the hell is happening to our country and that directly affects our children.”
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it anyway. Our voices don’t count anymore.”
As she walked away, with only a whisper, Trey said, “That’s the reason why we’re in this mess. Too many people believe what she believes; that our voices no longer matter and Washington will do whatever it wants anyhow. To think she lives with me and could care less about our political situation or even the safety of the American people.”
Xander quickly thought to the reason he and Trey always got along so well. They were different in race yet so close in thinking.
“I agree, and that’s why someone needs to stop relying on the government and take matters into their own hands,” Xander said without hesitation.
“So what’s really on your mind, Xander?”
“Honestly?”
“Well, of course. I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want your honesty.”
“I say we get a team together and provide a small amount of American justice.”
“How are we going to do that?” Trey asked with a confused look.
“We’ll start our own team with a single mission in mind, American payback.”
“With the way the government is, we’re more than likely to get busted before we can do anything.”
“No man, I have a plan. I’ve been thinking of this for a long time, even before the last five attacks. We’ll find several people like ourselves who are fed up with how things are going, and we’ll all see where our will takes us.”
“But how do you know if we can trust anyone who we include?”
“Suppose I told you a secret and you knew that if you shared that secret with anyone, Jasmine would be killed, along with your children, mother, and father. Would you ever share the secret with anyone?”
“Hell no!”
“Exactly, we only recruit others who have something or someone to lose. We’ve been friends for many years, and we’ve been through a lot together. I would trust you with my life. Would you trust me with yours and the lives of Jasmine, your children, and your parents?
“You’d be the only white boy I would trust with anything,” Trey said while laughing. Race was never an issue between the two of them. They always talked and even laughed about each other’s race.
“That’s real funny, but seriously?” Xander pressed on.
“Seriously, you would be the only person I would trust,” Trey reiterated.
“Well there you go. I would never hurt your family because I know you would never betray me or the group for that matter. That’s if we’re even able to form one. Oh, and by the way, you know my parents, and I would trust you with them as well.”
“But how do we accomplish complete secrecy?”
“We bring in a watcher.”
“What in the hell is a watcher?” Again, Trey had a look of confusion on his face.
“Here comes Jasmine, we’ll finish this talk later.”
“Oh, you’re going to leave me hanging?”
“You’re just in time, Jazz. The steaks are just about done,” Xander
“Trey, are you up for a little fishing Saturday?”
“Sure, why not? It’s been awhile since I’ve caught a catfish.”
“Yea, me too. We can ride out to the Cameron jetties. Maybe the blue cats will be running.”
“Hope so, we haven’t caught anything in a while.”
“Yea, I’m starting to think you two aren’t going fishing as you say. You never come back with any, at least not lately,” Jasmine said, as she laughed because fishing didn’t seem to be her husband’s most fruitful hobby.
“Yea, you’re a funny one, baby,” Trey said with a laugh.
“I was just pointing out the obvious,” Jasmine smirked.
“And on that note, I think we’re going to head out. Thanks for dinner.”
“No problem, anytime.” Xander always enjoyed having Trey and Jasmine over. It always gave him a sense of being part of a family. He lost much of his social skills over the years as he lived his life alone, becoming more of a loner than he had ever been as a young man.
Trey and Jasmine departed shortly after. With everything fresh in Xander’s head, he sat on the couch watching a cable news channel with a beer, pen, and paper.
With the pen in hand, he wrote, We need at least seven team members and a watcher. The watcher will be from the outside and will stay outside of the circle. For the sake of secrecy, only two people are to know who the watcher is. The watcher will need to know who the members are and their families. We’ll need to make sure we can gather a small arsenal of weapons and ammunition. His fingers released the pen causing it to fall on the notepad as he thought, This shit will be real. We’ll hit them just as they are hitting us, without mercy, without warning. If they want a holy war, that’s what they’ll have.
Later that evening after finishing off a twelve pack of beer, Xander found himself awakened in the middle of the night; a sound from outside startled him. What in the hell was that noise? Xander reached beside his bed and grabbed hold of his AK-47. He quietly walked through the house peering through windows along the way.
Xander was never the same as he was before. War had changed him from being outgoing to being much quieter and settled. After returning from two tours in Iraq, he often found himself waking up in the middle of the night. In the beginning, there were constant nightmares. They all but stopped over the course of a few years; however, occasionally he would dream of his desert duties and revisit the actions he was ordered to carry out.
With his weapon firmly in hand, he opened the front door and called out, “Anyone out there better get the hell away. I’m not playing. I’ll kill your ass.”
After looking out across his property and not seeing anyone, he returned inside and went back to bed. Let some sumbitch try to get in here, it’d be the last thing he’d ever do, he thought before going back to sleep.
For the next two days, Xander went to work as usual. Being a self-employed welder in southwest Louisiana kept him busy throughout the year. If it wasn’t oilfield related, then it was jobs he did for local farmers.
“Good morning, Mr. Bobby. Do you still want me to weld that old plow for you?” Xander asked an old farmer.
“Oh, yes sir, it’s out behind the barn. While you’re at it, you can weld that shaft on my crawfish boat,” the elderly man said. Bobby Adams was one of Xander’s most frequent employers. With over eight hundred acres of prime farmland that served as rice growing and crawfish harvesting fields, Bobby’s old equipment would often have issues and was in constant need of repair.
The men talked for several minutes before Xander turned to the older man and asked, “I was wondering, you’re an old timer, what do you think about these recent terrorist attacks?”
“I think they need to stop letting these people in and the ones that are in, ship their asses back to those Muslim countries. We never had this problem before but times have surely changed, my boy.”
“Yes, the problem is I doubt we’ll ever be able to turn this around.”
“Not until you have someone with balls in the White House. That Rose fella is a pussy. Hell, I think he hates America.”
“I have to agree with you, sir. Well let me get those repairs done for you.”
“Alright son, have at it. I’ll be in the barn or at the house when you’re finished. Stop by, and I’ll pay you what I owe.”
Xander drove his welding truck behind the barn. If the ground had been any softer, his heavy truck may not have made it through the field. Its rear end slid from side to side as he slowly made his way to the plow.
After only forty-five minutes, Xander finished with the plow, then turned his attention to the crawfish boat. The shaft going from the motor to the propeller had a hairline crack that needed welding, another easy task for the day.
“All fixed, Mr. Bobby.”
“Already? That was fast.”
“Yes, it didn’t take any time at all. There was a lot of rust on that old plow. The weld should be okay, but I’m not too sure about the metal around it. The crawfish boat is good to go. I didn’t see anything else wrong with it.”
“That’s great, how much do I owe you?”
“It didn’t take much time, how about eighty dollars?”
“Here’s an even hundred for coming out here.”
“Are you sure? Eighty is good.”
“Oh yea, I’m sure. Thanks for doing the work. I’ll give you a call next time I need some welding.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
On his way home, Xander stopped at a bar called The Watering Hole. It was the only bar between Mr. Bobby’s house and his own. At only 11:00 AM, he was satisfied with the hundred he made and decided to call it a day. After a couple of drinks, he returned home for the remainder of the day.
The following morning, Trey arrived at Xander’s house before 6:00. The two men met outside and loaded their gear in the back of Xander’s pickup truck.
“It looks like that’s everything. Let’s go get them,” Xander said, while not hesitating to get inside the truck as hundreds of mosquitoes were attacking him from all sides.
Within minutes, the men were on the road headed south. As music played at a reasonable volume on the radio, Trey turned to Xander and asked, “What in the hell is a watcher?” The question had been burning through his mind ever since the night of the barbeque.
“It’s just a thought I had. We’ll select someone from the outside to watch over everyone. If anyone should rat us out or leak any information, it’ll be the watcher’s responsibility to strike that individual and their loved ones. That should deter anyone from compromising our group.”
“Sounds like that would be a good plan, but whom?”
“I’m not sure yet, but it will have to be someone who is ruthless.”
“In that case, I know just the person.”
“Who’s that?”
“Tyrone Burns, that muthafucker is ruthless. He’ll kill a nigga for a fifty. I’ve known him for over fifteen years and one thing for sure, he’s loyal.”
“You think he’d be down for it?”
“Put it this way, he’s not political, but he’ll damn sure do it for the money. If all he has to do is take people out when told, I’m sure he’ll do it for a price.”
“Talk to him. The only thing though, he needs to understand that if he should tell anyone about us, he would meet the same fate. Hell, I’ll do it myself.”
“I’ll be sure he’s clear on that. I’ll go talk to him tomorrow if he’s at his momma’s house.”
“He still lives at his momma’s house?
“Aww yea, that nigga don’t work or nothing. He’s probably waiting for his momma to die so he can have the old house to himself, but I’ll go by tomorrow.”
“Alright, let me know what he says.”
“I’ll let you know.”
As the truck made its way down the narrow winding road off the main highway, the men could see that there were people fishing and crabbing along the roadway. The jetties started where the road ended and extended only a few thousand feet into the Gulf. At times, it was the perfect place to catch redfish and catfish. With their rod and reels in one hand and tackle boxes in the other, the two men carefully walked over the hundreds of limestone boulders that created the jetties. Rather than walking too far, they stopped only a couple of hundred feet from the beginning.
