Part Two

By David Maccabee

Synopsis: James Moore, a member of the Rescue Platoon, is part of an operation to take out every free standing abortion mill in Florida in a single night. He has already set charges in his first clinic of the evening, but runs into a bit of a snag at his second, after picking the lock and entering the five digit security code.

I sensed movement out of the comer of my eye and started to turn, when everything went white and all I could see was sparkles. Seconds, maybe two minutes later, when I came to, I found myself handcuffed and gagged. When my eyes focused, I looked up into the abyss of darkness down the barrel of a huge revolver. Behind the gun was a masked man. Another one came running up with a five-gallon gas can in one hand and a gun in the other.

The first grabbed my duffel bag and rifled through it. He exclaimed "Weeell Loookee here!!! Take a gander at this!" The second sidled up to the first as he set out satchel charges. He gave me a piercing stare and strode over to me. He said "I am going to remove that gag and you are going to answer my questions quietly or I will knock your noggin again. Understand?’ I nodded. The gag was removed promptly and cast aside.

"Just what were you planning to do with all these explosives?"

"I’m doing the same thing you are: trying to save the lives of unborn children. I was going to take out this building to see that no more killing is done here."

They drew aside, for two frantic minutes of discussion. Then the first pulled out a key and let me loose.

We spread the satchel charges and 3 gallons of gas, and left. I had been in the building half an hour. The two strangers had picked up the bodies of the aborted babies and carried them in a medical waste container that they found.

As we left, the two removed their masks. They followed me the two blocks to the Hummer. I had been in contact with Jake during the whole time, whispering for him to hold his position. Because of my long hair and beard, they had not seen the radio.

The two then introduced themselves. The hulk who had given me such a warm welcome was named David Williams, His friend’s name was Mark Strong. James apologized for jumping me, but he had thought that I was either with security or was a new employee, because I knew the security code, and he thought I had a key.

They were impressed with our equipment and our tactics, and wanted to know more about our group. I apologized, and told them I couldn’t talk to them about that until I could have them checked out. Trusting us, they opened up and told us of their activities of the evening. They had climbed up onto the roof, cut a hole after removing some shingles, and dropped down into the attic. By approaching that way they bypassed the security system entirely. Once inside the building they were in the process of disabling the fire suppression system. They planned to pile all flammable material and pour gas on it. A room or two away were going to drop highway flares and leave. When the fumes hit the flares, the building would have gone off grand style. A dangerous, but a workable one.

I had shown up as they had begun to disable the sprinkler system. In the Hummer, as we talked, he directed me to his car about 3 blocks away. We pulled up in front of it while he finished his story.

I asked if they wanted to help with "Williams Welcare"? They told us they had beaten us to it. They had bought an old 50 gallon pressure washer and had filled it full of gas and had parked it outside the murder mill. David and Mike drilled holes on each side of the building through thick doors. David had stuck the nozzle of the pressure washer through the holes and locked it in place, spraying gasoline full tilt into the building, as Mike had thrown in 5 highway flares, after lighting them, through the hole at the other end of the building. Both beat a hasty retreat, and came straight to the "Femme Care Clinic, as it was grossly mislabeled, where they had run into me.

I asked them to follow me to my motel, They agreed. They got in their Dodge Aspen station wagon and we came to the Motel 6. We dropped off their station wagon, grabbed the video and still cameras along with some film, and started back to E-Z Abortion Mill to document our work. Jake stayed at the motel. As we rounded the comer and saw the mill, I realized the charges hadn’t gone off yet! But as I looked at my watch, the sky brightened up as if dawn had arrived at 3:39 a.m. Half a second later a shock wave hit the car, shaking the Hummer. While it was still shaking a chunk of rocks crashed through a side window and did major damage to the rear seat. Chips shattered from the chunk and pelted us.

As my eyes came back into focus, we crashed into a guard rail. My head was smashed into the steering wheel, sending a spectacular flash of light through my head as my nose snapped and flattened against my face.

My vision soon recovered, but not my hearing. Except for the ringing. We were all bruised and bleeding. I turned off the motor. We checked ourselves out. Dave had been pretty badly hit in the face, but his big safety glasses had protected his eyes. Mike and I had been looking down when the rocks had hit; I at my watch, and Mike at the camera he was loading. We had to shout at each other because we were hard of hearing from the blast.

I thought of the damage to neighboring houses. We had done our best not to set too strong a charge, which might cause someone to be killed by flying debris. I was surprised that the chunk of blocks would fly that far. I pictured neighbors telling reporters the next morning that they were outraged that those anti-abortionists would not stop at hurting the abortionist, but would hurt "innocent bystanders". Innocent, indeed! When picketers made clear to them what was going on down the street, they only expressed their outrage at being bothered! What a contrast that was from the Civil Rights days, back when a black would move into a white neighborhood and all the property values would drop as the whites tried to leave! Today, when an abortionist moves into a neighborhood, the neighbors act as if it is the pro-life picketers who, if anyone is, are pulling down property values! The neighbors call the police when the pro-lifers arrive, not when the abortionist comes home! Innocent, indeed!

And yet it was our intention, and our prayer, to not harm even the guilty unless we were forced to.

We cleaned the debris off our seats as best we could, took a few pictures, and drove to the home of a former Army medic. He treated us for superficial wounds. I had my nose reset, and padded with a brace to hold it still. Our hearing slowly returned and the ringing retreated, until it was completely gone.

Meanwhile we had called Jake, who had come over to patch the Hummer in order to minimize suspicion. We had parked it in the medic's garage. Jake temporarily patched the dents and scratches on the Hummer with spray paint, and with a sheet of adhesive backed thin metal, painted to match the Hummer. He cut it a couple of inches larger than the dents in the door and slapped it on. It would stay there a couple of days until a proper repair was possible.

The window was not completely broken. He rolled it down-until the remnants of it were all inside the door, then cut a piece of plexiglas, bent it to fit in the side channels, and let it drop inside the door and come to rest on the broken pieces. When he was finished, the window looked like it had been rolled down two inches.

We stayed overnight so the medic could check us again the next morning. Then we drove back to the motel where I packed up, and asked them to drive with me, up to the panhandle of Florida, to Pensacola.

They left their car at a friend’s house, because we learned through the police scanner that they were looking for it. When Dave and Mike found they were suspects, they readily agreed to a change of scenery, and we were soon on the road again.

When we got to "town", I rented a room, Jake and I took pictures of the other two, and we left them at the motel and headed for ‘the Ranch". It was a small ranch-style house with 5 bedrooms, a two-car garage, a barn, and some detached outbuildings. It had once been the hub of a large family-owned farm, but all the farmland had been sold and only 5 acres remained. It was now our safe house, staffed by a small family of sympathizers. They had a garden and some farm animals, horses, cows, pigs, and a few chickens.

Others had arrived. The mobile command center was parked in the barn, filling most of it. I had our intelligence contact, Jennifer Made, call up her contacts at the C.I.A. She faxed photos of Dave and Mike to them, as well as to her contact at the Florida State Police. Both turned out to be genuine, with histories of trespassing, vandalism, and other just deeds at murder mills around the state and country. I shared with leadership what had happened, and asked permission to bring them on board. After many questions, I was given permission, once I had briefed them and asked if they wanted to join.

I drove a jeep back, leaving the Hummer in the hands of two of our mechanics to repair the crash damage. When I returned to the motel, just before noon, I called for a pizza to be delivered. I gave them a thumbnail version of our group, our activities and goals, and asked if they would like to join. I told them that the C.I.A. was looking for them, so they couldn’t return without being immediately arrested. They discussed their options over pizza, bread sticks, salad, and lots of milk.

The next morning we drove out to the ranch, where all the other teams, except one, were assembled. We covered neighborhood suspicion by billing the event as a reunion. Our daylight arrivals were greeted by people inside coming out to shake hands and loudly remark how long it had been and where had all the hairlines gone?

We spent a lot of time that day in the hayloft, sitting on fragrant bales of and sipping sweetened iced tea during our briefings. We learned that one team, a husband and wife, had been captured and arrested by the Ocala police department for trespassing. They were immediately bailed out and given plane tickets to a country with no extradition.

Then began the introductions, and a brief sharing session by David and Mike. Mike become involved while in Atlanta, Georgia during the Democratic convention in 1989, where I had also been. He rescued, and was treated roughly by the police. His arm was broken by their "pain compliance holds". He had been active since that time w4th sidewalk counseling, picketing, rescues, and even some clandestine activities like stink bombs and firebombs at murder mills.

David described how he had met Mike at Church. Mike had shown him ‘The Hard Truth", the video used by the Lord to open his eyes concerning America’s Holocaust. David was a landscaper who owned his own business, until he sold it to go full time into rescuing babies.

Others shared their stories. Thus the day swiftly passed until we were summoned behind the house, where a number of tables were set up, laden with a feast. There was seasoned fried chicken, black-eyed peas, corn on the cob, pork chops, chef s salad, peas, and mashed potatoes. For dessert there was cheesecake, sweet potato pie, watermelon and ice cream. All served with milk, juice or sweet ice tea served with lemon and honey. All was served with huge helpings of love and hospitality.

After we ate, we crowded into the large living room to see what the media was saying about our activities on the 5:00 news. There were some teasers, and then the lead anchorman launched into the story, beginning with "A Wave of Terror" has washed over the Sunshine State today, as the aftermath of the bombings all across the state. Video footage shifted from one blasted sight to another, lingering at last on a crater, and then to a sign that had miraculously survived, which said, "E-Z Abortion Clinic."

The anchor said it was not going to be easy to secure an abortion in Florida, seeing that every free standing clinic had been blasted, and hospitals were refusing to perform them from fear of retribution.

The co-anchor then described a related wave of terror, this one only resulting in a mess. After the explosions, abortionists were awakened by the news and calls from police and security systems, and rushed out their doors to check the damage. This triggered tiny explosive charges in the exercise claymores, which splattered red paint everywhere. All were shaken, but none injured.

In a major oversight, which will be investigated, two possible suspects slipped through the hands of police. The two, Mr. and Mrs. Philip and Amy Long, were caught trespassing at Clemens OBGYN Clinic where abortions were performed. The were released on bond right before that mill went up in smoke, Authorities are issuing a statewide manhunt and hope to make arrests soon.

The anchor said the group claiming responsibility called itself the 'Rescue Platoon" of the Army of God. It had sent a video to all news stations, papers, and state police in Florida. "This is the video that was sent to our station,"

It aired. It began with scenes from the Hard Truth. A man came on the screen flanked by huge posters of aborted children. He started reading the preamble to the Declaration of Independence: "We hold these truths to be self evident- that ALL people are created equal and are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights, among these are the RIGHT TO LIFE, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness." These nights were reinforced by the Constitution, defended in the Civil War, suffrage movement, and the Civil Rights Movements. But in 1972 the most important one was destroyed. In Roe v. Wade, people are denied the right to life up until the day they are born, and in the partial birth abortion, up until they are 3/4 born!

"This cannot, and will not, go on; and we, a God-fearing remnant, a platoon of the Army of God, here and now declare war on the entire child-killing industry. We will wage unrestricted war against abortionists, their assistants, escorts, security guards, and owners of the buildings used to kill babies. They may be targeted at any time. Those still determined to enter will do so at their own risk.

"Be warned: in less than one week, those still hurting children will begin feeling the wrath of God's army.'

The video cut to a healthy baby laying on a huge teddy bear, and then to a baby 7 months along, dying alone in a garbage pail, whining pitifully and reaching its arms out in a plea for help that never came. The voice over this scene said 'Today I have set before you a choice: Life or Death; blessings and cursings. So please choose life that you may live."

The video ended. The anchor moved on to a happy story about the latest Disney World ride.

Over the next week, we gathered in the barn to discuss our next step. We decided to issue a further non-lethal warning to the killers of children. We had some very accurate paint ball guns that were very accurate, even over a fairly long distance. We decided to have some fun with them.





 Feedback Box

Got feedback? Send it, along with name or url of the article, and a little of the text on either side of where your comment belongs, so I know what you are responding to, and I'll post your response. I might even place it right smack dab in the article! (If you don't want your email posted, SAY SO!)