Glenn Beck - The Eye of Moloch

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Then why don’t you get on outta here? Go report back to your masters. We’ve got our pay, we’ve got our list of things to do”—he waved a scribbled page—“and we know how to get ’er done. Don’t we, boys?”

The men were quiet; if there was going to be a confrontation no one seemed quite willing to commit themselves to one end of the table or the other.

“Before I leave I need to know we have an understanding,” Landers said.

“Oh, you bet we do, we’ve got an understanding.”

“If you have something to say you shouldn’t dance around it, George; it’s unbecoming. All night long it’s seemed to me you’ve been keeping your thoughts from us. Is it the words you can’t find, or the courage?”

“All right, then,” Pierce said, and he stood to his full, inadequate height. “If you want to hear it I’ll say what nobody else here will.”

“I’m listening.”

“You’re a liar.”

“And what have I lied about?”

“You’ve spent all this time talking about what we’re supposed to do for you. I haven’t heard one word about what you’re gonna do for us. Not a word—and far as I can tell, you expect us to gear up and start working with our enemies now. Hell, you’ve got us rubbing elbows with the union bosses, and the hippies, and the lefties, and the towel-heads, and the socialists, and the commies—”

“That’s exactly right.”

“Am I the only one here that’s got a problem with that?” Pierce looked briefly around the table but got no takers. “And how do we know, once we’ve put our shoulder to the wheel and made all this happen, that you’re not just gonna pull all those other bastards together and turn against us?”

“I’ll tell you all something, George, and I’m not lying now. You wonder if we’ll turn against you in the end? You don’t have to wonder; I guarantee we will. But between now and then you’ll have plenty of time to get what you want—everything that’s coming to you, all the allies you can muster, maybe even enough power to win a small kingdom for yourself when it’s all over. We’re playing the long game now, George. How can I get you to understand that?”

“You sure talk big, I’ll give you that. But this ain’t a game to me.”

“Look at it this way,” Landers said. “The Ku Klux Klan—they’re yesterday’s news but they used to talk big, too, back when they were a much larger mob than yours—the Klan’s killed how many blacks in the last hundred years?”

“I don’t know.”

“I do. It’s only a few thousand actual lynchings, and with the shootings and the church burnings and the beatings and other random acts, let’s be conservative and round it up to four thousand total. In one hundred years. That’s forty per year on average.”

“So?”

“So more than that number have been shot in one weekend in present-day Chicago. There were one hundred and twenty blacks murdered in that one city in just the first quarter of last year. Eight thousand, nine thousand murders happen annually in their communities, over twice as many as the KKK has managed to commit in its entire history.”

“That’s just the damned jungle bunnies killing one another. What, now you’re gonna stand there and take credit for the Vice Lords and the P-Stones and the Gangster Disciples?”

“I am.” The question had been mocking but Landers’s answer was delivered with such authority that they all seemed to see it must be true. “Since the start of the Great Society we’ve systematically destroyed their spirit and dismantled their families, all with their full cooperation. You’re right, they’re killing each other; it’s easier for us that way. We saw Martin Luther King rising up to stop it, and we met him head-on, and we won. Today the sanctimonious do-gooders you hate so much have rewritten King’s words into nothing more than a shameless plea for handouts and reparations. We’ve made his people wards of the state and convinced the taxpayers it’s the only compassionate thing to do for such a downtrodden and helpless inferior race.

“The loudest of their leaders—and we’ve handpicked them all—they’ll march arm in arm in the streets to preserve the very chains we’ve used to enslave them. For every one that escapes the trap there are ten more for whom crime is the only career that seems wide open. In the inner cities we’ve herded them into a savage culture that glorifies the worst of their men, objectifies their women, and orphans their children. We’ve imprisoned whole generations and put them to work for us at twenty cents an hour. That’s ethnic cleansing at its best, but that’s only the beginning. You people believe abortion is murder, correct?”

Pierce blinked. “Yes, we do.”

“In your own language, then, abortion on demand has murdered seventeen million blacks, and counting.” He let that number sink in for a moment. “Do you get that? We’ve normalized the voluntary termination of their babies into just another form of birth control—and a sacred civil right of liberated, empowered women. That’s the illusion we’ve created to make another genocidal weapon in the race war you say you’ve always wanted. Can you think it’s an accident that this choice is made so much more often by the people you claim to hate? There are fifty percent fewer blacks in this country now than there otherwise would be, and we’ve pulled the wool over the eyes of the American people so completely that even you couldn’t see that truth. But do you understand it now? The real war’s been going on for quite a while, George. We’re just inviting you to finally be a part of it.”

“That may all be true,” Pierce said. “But there’s times when a man’s got to pull the trigger himself to get his justice.”

“Are we talking about Molly Ross again?”

“Yes, we are.”

“You have to leave her to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not paying you to be subtle, and it’s a delicate business to kill an idea,” Landers said. “She’ll be dealt with soon enough. She’s just an insignificant person who’s going to be used as a patsy, nothing more. If we can we’re going to push her into some public act that we can call terrorism, and then we’ll take her down. If she only continues to cower and hide, we’ll stage a bombing or a mass shooting ourselves and pin it on her. See? All this violence you’re about to commit is going to be blamed on Molly Ross and her ignorant followers, and once that’s done, we’re finished with her. Then I’ll have her sent here and you can do whatever you want with her, but not until we’ve beaten the last breath of life out of this pathetic patriot movement she’s stirred up.”

“You’ll never find her. They’ll be long gone soon and hid underground, but I’ve got a man right now in the other room who can lead us right to her—”

“No need,” Landers said. “We’ve already found her.” He tapped a small square on the grid of the laptop screen in front of him, a small moving image ballooned wide, and he spun the display around so the room could see. The live video was an extreme telephoto view of a large house and its surroundings, drifting and correcting, streamed down from a surveillance drone orbiting its target at nearly twenty thousand feet. “In fact, we never lost sight of her.”

“Where is that place?”

Pierce had started around the table but Landers snapped the screen closed before he’d gotten near. “When it’s time, and not before. For now, if you really want to hurt Molly Ross, you can use this.” He unzipped the equipment bag next to him and took out the scoped rifle inside. “The report tells me this all belonged to a man named Thomas Hollis. He was a modestly decorated Army Ranger and I understand he’s now her enforcer. If you’ve lost lives, he’s the one that took them. But I’m sure you knew that already.”