The Insurrectionist (6 page)

            He lifted the sheet and looked at his legs wrapped in bandages. The sharp pain from the bullet wounds was just a distant memory, the achiness and itchiness of the stitches was so irritating he believed he was about to go insane.

            The hospital door opened and Agent Andrews and Agent Saunders walked in
again
. “Look who it is, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb. Come to tickle more information out of me?” asked Deni.

            Agent Andrews pulled up a chair, sat back and casually crossed his legs. “No, we actually enjoy these little chats with you.”

            Deni folded his hands together and grinned. “I do too. It’s fun to share stories. What’s on today’s agenda?”

            “I want to get back to your connections,” said Agent Andrews.

            Deni laughed. “Wow, this is priceless. I gave you the answer, yet you’re still searching. Let me guess, every Muslim organization denied involvement and yet you are at a complete loss. You guys must be real low level.”

            “Stop playing games, kid,” said Agent Saunders.

            Deni laid his head against the back of the bed and sighed. “Okay, let me explain this to you. There is a big business in keeping nations unstable.” He looked at Agent Andrews. “It also causes a lot of inhumanity, but no one really seems to care about that. People are expendable; it is money and profit that people in power really care about. In your FBI training, do they teach you to actually think for yourselves or are you following the US government script? Block heads are easily stacked together to form an impenetrable wall of stupidity.”

            “Listen kid,” Agent Saunders replied lurching over Deni’s bed.

            Agent Andrews held him back. “What are you saying?”

            “Do you want to know who recruited my brother?” Deni questioned with a grin. “America did. I guess some rich and powerful people would like to see America unstable as well, because when the President is weak and the government is unstable, the rich gain more power. It’s easier to manipulate the masses with fear and instability.”

            “Okay, I’ll bite. Who are these rich and powerful people who are trying to make the country unstable?” asked Agent Andrews.

            “I don’t know. My brother did most of the dealing,” said Deni.

            “He didn’t tell you?” asked Agent Saunders.

            “No, he said the less I knew the better it was for me.”

            Agent Saunders grinned. “Ah that’s sweet. Big brother was looking out for you.”

            “Yes he was!” Deni exclaimed. “Besides it was his show really.”

            “So you were just some dumb zombie following orders?” asked Agent Andrews.

            Deni sat up and smirked. “I have only ever made one prayer to God, a very short one: ‘O Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.’ And God granted it.”

            “You are mocking the murder of innocent people,” said Agent Saunders.

            “No, I am quoting Voltaire,” Deni replied smartly. ‘“The composition of a tragedy requires testicles.’ Who here has the balls to stand up for what they believe? What is it for men to sit around and see injustices and do absolutely nothing?”

            “So you also think people are expendable if the cause is right? You are no better than the so-called rich using people for power,” said Agent Andrews.

            “Do you think war is acceptable if the cause is right? Do you think invading a country and stealing land and oil is right, regardless of how many innocent people are killed?” asked Deni. ‘“Such then is the human condition, that to wish greatness for one’s country is to wish harm to one’s neighbors.”’

            Agent Andrews raised his hand. “Okay, why don’t we leave Voltaire out of this? How did you get your training and instructions?” questioned Agent Andrews.

            “The world wide web,” Deni replied with a grin and wide sweeping gesture. “You’d be surprised what you can learn on the internet. The internet is an interesting thing; you should check it out sometime. You can post anything; say anything and some idiot will either believe it or use it. The most disturbed human being can become an icon with many sheep following,” said Deni.

            Agent Saunders grew annoyed with Deni’s cocky rambling. “Do you want to die?”

            “Do I have a choice?” Deni responded quickly.

            “So let’s get back on subject,” said Agent Andrews.

            “Yes,” said Deni as if Agent Saunders rudely interrupted him. “We downloaded the instructions and then printed them out in my brother’s living room. Afterwards we went shopping. We supported all the local businesses—the Shillington market, Bob’s hardware for wires and shit. They’re real kind folks, real knowledgeable too. They gave my brother a free toaster oven and I got a gumball. Kinda hard though, I think I cracked a tooth.” Deni opened his mouth wide. “Do you want to see? I think I should have a dentist check it out.”

            Both agents sighed dramatically. “Let’s get on with this,” said Agent Saunders.

            “I apologize. Am I bothering you? Am I wasting your time?” asked Deni.

            “I actually do have a wife and children I’d like to see tonight. I’d rather spend my time with them than your piece of shit ass,” replied Agent Saunders.

            Deni smiled, enjoying the fact he was irritating the FBI. If he had to be irritable, then he was going to make damned sure that everyone else was. “We even recycled bits of shrapnel from the railroads. You’ll be happy to know everything was completely manufactured in the US of A as well as the funds and training.”

            “So they were constructed while your brother’s wife was working to support a deadbeat husband?” questioned Agent Saunders.

            Deni glared at Agent Saunders but did not respond.

            “What was your brother’s motivation; was it the same as yours?” asked Agent Andrews.

            “You could have asked him yourself, but you killed him. Dead men can’t speak,” replied Deni.

            “Were you aware of your brother’s marital problems? It must have been hard for a big macho stud like your brother to be a stay at home dad. Must’ve felt like he was castrated or something, taken a real bite out of his manhood,” said Agent Saunders.

            “I don’t think so.” Deni laughed.

            “Did your brother share your same ideological beliefs or was he purely faith driven?” asked Agent Andrews.

            Deni laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “Would that be like the Catholic Inquisition torturing heretics, burning protestants at the stake, Spanish conquistadors killing any Indians they couldn’t get to convert, the Nazi’s exterminating the Jews, or maybe the American Christian near genocide attacks on Native Americans. I’ll be ready to discuss the idea of Muslims killing infidels when you can tell me why Christians felt it okay to kill all non-believers for centuries.”

            “Answer the question,” said Agent Andrews strongly.

            Deni sighed. “Ah yes, we’re in America where the bloodshed magically washes right off. I must say you American Christians do have a powerful God and very clean too.” He sat upright. “Haven’t you meatheads been listening to me? That’s your job right? Here, write this down:there are extremely wealthy and powerful people selling arms to keep nations in the middle east unstable, causing a supreme amount of death, atrocity and bloodshed and the majority of those people are Muslim, because let’s face it Americans don’t give a shit about Muslims, but I do.”

            “Do Muslim men like being dominated by their women?” asked Agent Saunders.

            “Is this your first case or did you get your FBI training by watching Hollywood movies?” questioned Deni.

            Agent Saunders leaned casually on Deni’s bed. “Do you like to be in control, or do you prefer if a woman drives?” Deni stared at him not answering the question. “You do know what I’m talking about.” Agent Saunders continued, “Sex, or are you still a virgin? Are you hoping to find your virgins when you die?”

            Deni laughed and didn’t dignify the question with an answer. He looked at Agent Andrews and said, “Is your partner for real?”

            “The questions go to your emotional state,” said Agent Andrews.

            “Emotions?” questioned Deni.

            “Yes, I’m sure you have them, or at least I hope you do,” said Agent Andrews. “According to your sister-in-law, there were problems in the marriage even though she converted to Islam. Apparently, she wasn’t quite fitting the mold as the perfect Muslim wife. Problems at home can be a trigger if amplified. So now we ask the question of you, any problems in the romance area? Could it be a trigger that resulted in violence?”

            “It’s so like America to turn this into an episode of The View. Everything is a movie or a television episode with you people, isn’t it? Why don’t you invite Dr. Phil in to question me; make it some reality TV show.” He collapsed against the bed. “Shit! Some men actually think with their brains and not their dick and some men don’t even think at all.”

            Deni folded his arms across his chest and looked away from both agents. It was the ignorance he despised most. Everyone judged what they didn’t understand or even bothered to realize.
It’s easier to live in ignorant prejudice than to learn about another tradition. Americans were flat out lazy when it came to trying to understand others
. “There is no way other than the American way,” he responded.

            But it wasn’t the entire truth for Deni; he did like the American way, especially when it came to girls or at least one in particular.

 

            A waitress set a spread of various flavored chicken wings on the table between Deni and Heather. Heather eagerly picked up a garlic and parmesan flavored wing. “Yum, these are my favorite,” she said as she nibbled the meat off the bone. She tossed the bones in an empty basket. “So, do you have any plans for college?”

            “Yeah,” Deni sighed. He finished his wing and continued. “Maybe Kutztown or Millersville—some state school. How about you?”

            “William and Mary,” she stated confidently.

            “Why William and Mary?” Deni asked, fingering a chipotle and lime flavored wing.

            Heather surveyed the plate of wings and picked up a Cajun-spiced flavor. “I like the sound of it—William and Mary. It sounds romantic—a school named after a couple.”

            Deni raised his eyebrows. “Are you planning on majoring in romance novels?”

            “Political Science,” she stated and spat out chicken gristle.

            Deni grinned, admiring Heather. She looked so pretty, dressed for a date—her hair straightened, she wore makeup, jewelry and even a dress. He reached for a napkin and wiped Cajun sauce from her cheek. “I feel like I’m having dinner with a toddler.”

            “Dude it’s chicken wings. You get messy and clean up afterward,” she protested and then wiped her dress. “Ah, no. I got sauce on me.”

            “Tell me how someone so pretty can be a complete slob?” he asked.

            “It’s all part of my charm,” she said with a toothy, chicken meat grin.

            Deni leaned on his elbows toward Heather. “So tell me your position on the Middle East.”

            “Well, I think those people have the audacity to live on American oil and then get annoyed when we come in to take it,” she joked.

            Deni laughed. “Beautiful, messy, and clever—you are quite a catch,” he teased. “What’s your real opinion?”

            Heather paused and glanced aside as she reflected on her answer. “Greed and power is the easy answer, but that’s not it. The west doesn’t respect different cultures and since there is no respect, they don’t care about the people they hurt along the way. It’s the same thing when European settlers landed in the Americas and nearly wiped out the Mayans, Aztecs, and many northern American tribes. The first step towards peace is respect, but now it is hard because fundamentalism brewed and took over.” She slurped her soda. “That’s the Cliff’s Notes version of Heather Atkins’ Middle East perspective. How about you? Do you have any idea of a major?”
            “I don’t know,” Deni admitted. “Probably pre-med, my father was a doctor before we had to leave Chechnya. Besides, it’s a great selling tool for my mother when she tries setting me up with her friends’ daughters,” he joked.

            “Your mother tries to set you up on dates?” Heather questioned.

            Deni bit into a chicken wing and winked at Heather. “Tries, but as you can imagine, she and I have different tastes.”

            “Ah, say no more,” said Heather and then bit into another wing leaving a trace of sauce on both sides of her lips. Deni didn’t even bother to mention it; he just let her be.

 

            After Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb had left, a whole new gang of people entered his room—several cops with the same blond crew cuts, a short, skinny man, a short, big-nosed man and another taller, beefier dark-haired man.

            They showed no courtesy to Deni, only shrewd, calculated determination. “I am Judge Shriver and this is Mr. Williams who will be prosecuting your case.” Judge Shriver looked down at Deni, “You have the right to remain silent; anything you say can and will be used against you.”

            The whole episode was ridiculous. Everyone was so serious, just seething with self-importance. They all looked down at him with such superiority that Deni had no choice but to look away. This was his motivation and his reason why—superiority.
What makes these assholes think they are any better than me
. “Is this being televised?”

            Judge Shriver stopped speaking and stared curiously at Deni. “No. Why would you ask?”