A moment later, a man with a thick Middle Eastern accent answered, “Yes, my brother. God is great. Please tell me your status.”
Dayyan briefed the man on the situation. After listening, the man said, “You have done well so far my brother. Use your list tonight to start building your supplies. Report to me when you have gathered what you need and have completed your first two target missions. Remember, you will need far more supplies than you and your brothers currently can use. Get as many supplies as you can. Contact me in the morning after your raids. God willing you will do well tonight. God is great, my brother.”
The call disconnected.
Dayyan and his team of ten men then opened all the crates and sorted out the equipment. There were plenty of assault rifles, pistols, and ammunition. There were also radios, clothing, tactical vests, and other combat equipment. The men all dressed into plain black pants and black long-sleeved shirts, which each person had brought with them. Each man was issued a semiautomatic pistol and tactical leg holster. Everyone had extensive weapons training, so they went to cleaning and inspecting the guns and loading up the illegal high capacity magazines. Four 12-gauge pump shotguns were distributed.
Two of the newcomers including a skinny, nerdy-looking man named Walter, brought in another large crate, and placed it in the back room without opening. Walter explained that it would be best to leave it closed until needed. Dayyan did not argue. He assumed there was good reason.
They had five running vehicles. Both Dayyan’s Suburban and old Dodge were fine. Naseem had bought an old Ford tilt-cab box truck. Like Dayyan, he had previously taken it to a truck shop and had it gone through carefully. Adnan, one of Dayyan’s soldiers, had an old Chevy Van, and Ghaith had an older Chevy Suburban. The van the four new brothers had arrived in was a new Ford rental and like millions of other cars nationwide was dead as a doornail. Dayyan assumed the men arrived by airplane and had no choice but to rent a new car. Dayyan had an amusing thought. Wonder why they did not call “Rent-a-Wreck.”
The men loaded up two to each truck plus three in Dayyan’s Suburban. They caravanned on backstreets to the two locations where other men were waiting. Three men were at a home just two miles north. Four other men were waiting at an office building near the Burbank border. Those men also had an old running Chevrolet station wagon. Weapons were provided to all the new soldiers. After everyone was ready, the six-vehicle convoy with sixteen fighters headed to the first target in Burbank.
Chapter 6
0030, Day 1, Railroad Tracks Near Downtown Las Vegas
After the few minutes of rest and reflection, Lee started back down the railroad tracks. Staying to the side of the track and in the shadows, he stayed alert in case the druggies were stupid enough to come looking for him. Lee thought it doubtful; however, the two cowards even came back for their friend. The unlucky drug addict may have bled out from his wounds or would before getting medical help. Lee had some remorse, but right now he could not worry about it. Maybe it would hit him later, but the important thing right now was to keep moving out of town. His family and his home were the reasons driving him now.
Lee walked under several overpasses without issue including the Interstate 15 freeway. At Tropicana, the tracks went over the roads. He did not like the extra exposure, on the overpasses, but he pressed on cautiously. When he reached Hacienda Avenue, it changed back to an underpass, making him relax. But as he approached, he could make out dozens of people on the bridge ahead. He stopped and studied the scene on the overpass for a bit. Too many people had a vantage point on the bridge, where they would probably see him moving by. He looked around and saw that to the west was a large empty field. It was a clear dirt field, but the moonlight would surely expose him. Lee wanted to move southwest, but to do so, he would need to backtrack. To the east, industrial buildings bordered the tracks, and Lee could see a gap between two large buildings. He decided to divert down the trail between buildings. The trail ended at a road, which also headed south under Hacienda. So once again, Lee moved further east into the industrial area. Once he hit Valley View Boulevard, he turned back south across Hacienda, keeping to the west side of the street as much as possible. He tried to stay within the shadows cast by the moon, which was moving closer to the western horizon. Lee continued on Valley View toward Russell Road.
Somewhere after crossing Russell, Lee was approaching an intersection when he saw someone ahead. The dark shadow of a person was moving along the cross street ahead. As Lee tracked him, he made the turn onto Valley View Boulevard and headed south, the same direction as Lee. He came out of the shadow as he turned the corner. In the moonlight, Lee could tell the man was of medium build and height and in good shape. His backpack was smaller, and he was moving faster than Lee. Lee thought he might be someone from the military or a real health nut. He just had that look and was moving like a soldier. As the man turned the corner, he glanced over and spotted Lee. The two were diagonally opposite at the intersection. Lee suddenly realized he too had moved into the moonlight, disclosing himself to the other man. So Lee simply raised his hand in a “Hey there” gesture. The man did not appear as a threat, and he gestured back and kept moving. Lee followed, remaining on the opposite side of the street. The man was gaining distance quickly, convincing Lee he must be active or ex-military. Therefore, Lee gave him the mental name of “Cap” (for Captain) as a way of identifying the man in his mind.
As much as Lee tried keeping up with the man—or Cap, as Lee now kept thinking of him—he was moving too fast. The guy was younger and in much better shape, and with the smaller pack and load, he increased the distance between them as the two moved along Valley View Boulevard.
After a few minutes, Cap was a good block and a half ahead. Suddenly the street lit up. The lights startled Lee. His first thought was the power came on. Quickly, he realized the bright lights were the headlights of a car sitting in the middle of the street near the Captain. Lee moved closer to the right side of the street and deeper into the shadows. Cap was lit up brightly by the lights as he stood midway across the street. Seemingly, the car had occupants, and when Cap walked by, they had turned on the lights. Two figures exited the car from the sides and walked to the front, facing Cap. Cap had turned around, facing the headlamps.
Three other men appeared from the left side of the street and moved behind Cap. He twisted slightly and backed away from the three men approaching from his right rear. Lee was close enough to make out angry voices, sensing immediately this was not good. He continued to move forward slowly and as stealthily as possible, staying in the shadow and using parked cars and bushes to hide his approach.
When Lee had moved to within a half of a block, he started consider that he should divert around what was starting to look like a one-sided confrontation. He did not know these people. Why risk his own exodus from Vegas by jumping into this mess? He was now close enough to hear the conversation and make out words, so he listened as he slid down behind a parked car. With bright headlights facing away from Lee, spotting him would be difficult if not impossible. The lights would be blinding to the men facing them.
Straining to listen, Lee could make out the various people confronting the Captain. One of the men at the front of the car was a tall, skinny black man around thirty years old. Next to him was a shorter figure Lee could tell was an overweight black woman. All three of the figures behind the Captain were skinny young blacks. Lee guessed them to be early twenties or maybe even teenagers. One was very tall, the two others slightly shorter. The three were wearing baggy pants hanging below their butts, high-top athletic shoes, layers of various bright-colored shirts, and ball caps at odd angles. Everybody appeared nervous as they inched their way toward Cap. One man behind Cap was holding a club or bat. Another had a medium-sized knife that he was flipping around in his right hand. The sagging pants forced the three idiots to keep one hand on their waistbands to keep from losing the ugly shorts as they approached the Cap. Otherwise, they would probably trip and fall to the ground. What a bunch of dipshits, Lee thought.
“So just what in fuck you doing in our hood man?” The tall man at the front of the car spoke out in a heavy ghetto slur.
“Just passing by. I mean you no harm,” replied Cap.