Michael Savage - Abuse of Power

“I am eager to hear more,” Haddad told her truthfully.

“I’m so glad!” she enthused. “So few people know about it, even those who live here. But there’s an entire secret history beneath the city that’s largely ignored or forgotten.”

It was the next day, and they were driving in Tally’s Toyota. Her aggressiveness behind the wheel matched her sexual aggressiveness.

“Educate me,” he said, as he watched the road. It would be absurd for him to die in a car crash after all the effort it had taken to get to this point.

“Well, first there’s Chinatown,” she told him. “During the gold rush, hundreds of thousands of Chinese immigrants came to the city and were forced to live in slums. By the late eighteen hundreds that area was a network of underground sewer tunnels and passageways topped by crowded tenement buildings. It was one of the most dangerous places in San Francisco.”

Haddad laughed inside. He had seen his share of slums in his time, and knew quite well how dangerous they could be.

“Most of the immigrants were destitute, and many of them were sold as slaves to work in kitchens and laundries. Young girls would be forced into prostitution, and those who tried to protect them used the underground tunnels to hide them away.”

Heathen behavior, Haddad thought, but typical of a country run by infidels whose greed and base interests knew no bounds.

She babbled on. But it wasn’t that part of the city’s underground that he was interested in. He had done enough research on his own to know that there was something far more useful to him than a Chinese history lesson. Bloggers had announced the general area of the entrance; she had saved him having to search for it. Fault line maps created by the U.S. Geological Survey-charts showing dip, azimuth, depth, and other data used by San Andreas Geophysical Operations for threat assessment-had unwittingly delineated the tunnels themselves. The route for the assault was planned. Haddad merely had to see the tunnels for himself, make sure they were clear.

Finally, trying not to show his impatience, he directed her towards his needs.

“What about the bunker you referred to in one of your articles?”

“Ah,” she said. “Even fewer people know about that, maybe some old-timers and a handful of urban explorers like me.”

“When were they built?”

“During the Second World War,” she said. “San Francisco was considered a very vulnerable target if the war were ever to come to our shores, so the military built a massive underground bunker in preparation for an attack.”

“How could people not know about this?”

“Because it was a military secret to begin with. After the war ended the place was completely sealed up so that nobody would find it.”

“That seems a waste. Surely they’ve utilized it-say, for storage?”

She shook her head. “Some cities did things like that. New York, for instance. Stocked them with canned goods in case of a nuclear attack. It scared people so they stopped. It was easier just to pretend the bunkers didn’t exist.”

“And you’ve managed to find a way inside the bunker?”

She smiled. “Yep.”

“And it truly leads to this place you told me about?”

She gave him a sly smile.

Haddad felt a sudden flash of anger and wanted to slap the smile from her face. Why couldn’t she just answer the question? He did not have time for games.

“When can we go there?” he asked. “This-this is too exciting.”

The smile widened. “That’s where we’re headed right now. Normally, I’d have to blindfold you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sort of,” she admitted. “Only a few people know about this spot and we don’t want it to become common knowledge. But I can trust you, right?”

“Of course,” Haddad said. “With your life.”

They took a gently winding road along the bay.

Haddad looked out at its clear blue waters, marveling at its beauty as he watched the distant sailboats bob along its surface. He had always loved this view, with the Cliff House Restaurant, the Marin coastline beyond, and the tattered sea-swept ruins of the Sutro Baths on the shore below-which had once been the world’s largest indoor swimming establishment until it burned down before Haddad was even born.

And yet, it was soon to be so different.

By his hand.

There were times when he wished that he could simply go back to his college days, when life was less complicated. When he could hate without having to rein that in, so he could carefully engineer an expression of that loathing. And to be honest, though he had been here to learn and to study the ways of the infidels, there were times he envied them their blissful obliviousness to the world and its dangers. He wondered what life would be like without a larger goal than making money and raising infidel children. He wondered if, in his lifetime, he would ever know the peace and contentment of a Sharia world.

They drove around a bend along Point Lobos Avenue, until they came to a large car park on their left, near the Sutro Baths. Tally pulled in and found a spot, then shut off the engine and turned to Haddad.

“Okay,” she said. “Almost there. We’re in a national park so we have to be aware of other visitors and watchful eyes.”

“I’ll trust you to guide me without incident,” Haddad told her.

She smiled again. “You are just so damn cute, you know that?”

She parked, then leaned over and kissed him, making it very clear that she enjoyed his company. He managed to keep from recoiling and actually returned her smile.

“Shall we?” she said, as she popped open her door.

“Indeed.”

They found their way to Lands End Trail, which was far from rustic and perfectly maintained, surrounded by lush green foliage. They followed a winding path, feeling the wind in their faces, enjoying the quiet-which seemed so unusual considering that they were still in the city.

As they passed the USS San Francisco memorial-little more than a flagpole and plaque surrounded by a few large gunmetal-gray pieces of an old warship that, to Haddad, looked like giant Dumpsters-Tally glanced about, then grabbed his arm and steered him toward the edge of the cliff.

“This way,” she said.

The cliff looked quite steep, but they were both wearing clothes for climbing-jeans, flannel shirts, rugged shoes-so Haddad followed her down through the rocks and trees, until they were very close to the water. He could feel the ocean spray on his face as she led him around a small outcropping, then upward again until they found a secluded patch of land just below the cliffside, full of dirt and rock and grass and surrounded by thick green trees.

Glancing around again for prying eyes, Tally moved up to a large grouping of stones gathered near the base of one of the trees. Taking hold of the largest stone, she said, “Help me with this.”

Haddad grabbed on and they huffed and struggled a few moments until they rolled it aside to reveal a crevice just wide enough to squeeze through. The crevice was formed in a slab of cement, rather than earth, and Haddad could see that it was an exposed portion of a larger structure that had somehow been dislodged, possibly in an earthquake.

“This is it?” Haddad asked. “This is the entrance?”

“Only the brave know for sure,” she said, casting a look around to make sure they had not been observed. “You want me to go first?”

Not one to back down from a challenge, especially coming from a ridiculous female, Haddad waved her away then studied the crevice, looking for the best way to proceed. Deciding to go feet first, he sat down and stuck his feet into the opening, then lay on his back and slowly wormed his way downward, shimmying into the hole.