The Macro Event. Andrew Adams

the big armored truck around, he just floored the gas and headed toward the police officers. At first, they looked shocked, but they all ran and jumped for cover. Zohar sped by, and the other vehicles followed. They roared past the stunned people and police, chasing many out of the street. No shots were fired by the confused police as the convoy sped by and disappeared under the 210 freeway.

      The convoy of trucks made the left turn onto Foothill Boulevard and continued to their destination. Zohar had a concern about leading the police to their meeting point, so he radioed Deshawn, a skinny African-American, who was driving one of the original suburban trucks. “Stay at the tail end of the convoy and watch for a response from the police.”

      Deshawn remained on the side of Foothill Boulevard for about fifteen minutes. He reported that an old ford sedan came up Foothill and stopped. Two policemen climbed from the car and looked up Foothill Boulevard before getting back into the car and heading back. The police probably did not want another meeting with the hostile force, who tried to run them over. They probably did not feel they had enough men, cars, or firepower for a real shootout.

      Dayyan was worried before this latest encounter that reports of meetings with a hostile group and the attacks on the guns stores plus the murder of the Pasadena Swat team was going dangerous. He felt it would start getting broadcast over whatever communication net was working. This incident would add credence to the other sightings and put the authorities on high alert.

      Dayyan’s group that had come up Sunland Boulevard had arrived first at the rendezvous location. Zohar’s convoy showed up a few minutes later. The third group led by Arman arrived last, having the longest route up Osborne Street around the west side of Hanson Dam. They scattered the large trucks in numerous locations around the recreational area using heavy brush or trees to hide them. Stealth was paramount to this operation. Dayyan walked on foot to a point overlooking the National Guard Center. His handler had given the location to him, and there he found a single man.

      Dayyan approached the man who introduced himself. “Hello, my brother. I am Arman Ridwan Bousaid. I guess we are here for the same purpose.”

      “It appears so. How has your success been so far, my friend?” Dayyan answered.

      “I have gathered about twenty-five men to add to your army. Unfortunately, we have not had near the success as you with weapons and vehicles. We assembled east of San Bernardino. As directed, I have been here with three men since yesterday watching the National Guard base below. The rest of my men came in a large old school bus a few hours ago. They are waiting at the golf course below the dam.”