'Power Grab' the 8th book in the 'Corpalism' series by Arun D Ellis
New release 'Power Grab' by Arun D Ellis
The 2,000 Martyrs
The mosque had been completely restored since the bombing yet the dishonour of this insult had not dissipated.
According to news reports at the time, 75% of the ground floor, as well as large parts of the first floor and the roof had been destroyed in the blast. Funding for the restoration had come from a variety of unnamed sources; payback on the investments was about to come due.
Arrayed in straight lines, 20 by 100, the men in their black robes stood at attention.
The Imam walked slowly along the front rank and then climbed the 3 steps to the small platform and stood in front of the microphone.
He was older than all of those assembled, venerable and authoritative. He stared out at the men in front of him, capturing the full attention of every one of them, then he raised his hands and spoke, his voice throbbing into the space, a powerful yet melodious sound, "You are the shahid. You are the spirit of all Muslims everywhere. You are the soldiers we will send deep into the lands of the unbelievers." He paused, the silence a single baited breath, "You are the sacred hand of vengeance."
Insha'allah, Insha'allah came the rumbling response.
He waited for silence then spoke again, "You will be the dagger driving deep into the soul of the west, destroying their culture and destabilising their lives. You will be a constant threat, moving from place to place, evading their police, creating fear in their hearts. Remember your brothers all over the world who depend on your efforts, on your determination and on your success."
He paused, "You will wreak havoc in their cities, in their streets and in their towns. You will defile their women and emasculate their men." He raised both hands to the heavens and put a deeper energy into his voice, "You will strike terror and fear into the infidel! Allahu Akbar."
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar resonated round the room, rising and falling in waves as row after row confirmed their obedience.
Behind a long curtain at the back of the mosque the man from the Committee sipped his iced tea and smiled.
Cheers
Arun
The 2,000 Martyrs
The mosque had been completely restored since the bombing yet the dishonour of this insult had not dissipated.
According to news reports at the time, 75% of the ground floor, as well as large parts of the first floor and the roof had been destroyed in the blast. Funding for the restoration had come from a variety of unnamed sources; payback on the investments was about to come due.
Arrayed in straight lines, 20 by 100, the men in their black robes stood at attention.
The Imam walked slowly along the front rank and then climbed the 3 steps to the small platform and stood in front of the microphone.
He was older than all of those assembled, venerable and authoritative. He stared out at the men in front of him, capturing the full attention of every one of them, then he raised his hands and spoke, his voice throbbing into the space, a powerful yet melodious sound, "You are the shahid. You are the spirit of all Muslims everywhere. You are the soldiers we will send deep into the lands of the unbelievers." He paused, the silence a single baited breath, "You are the sacred hand of vengeance."
Insha'allah, Insha'allah came the rumbling response.
He waited for silence then spoke again, "You will be the dagger driving deep into the soul of the west, destroying their culture and destabilising their lives. You will be a constant threat, moving from place to place, evading their police, creating fear in their hearts. Remember your brothers all over the world who depend on your efforts, on your determination and on your success."
He paused, "You will wreak havoc in their cities, in their streets and in their towns. You will defile their women and emasculate their men." He raised both hands to the heavens and put a deeper energy into his voice, "You will strike terror and fear into the infidel! Allahu Akbar."
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar resonated round the room, rising and falling in waves as row after row confirmed their obedience.
Behind a long curtain at the back of the mosque the man from the Committee sipped his iced tea and smiled.
Cheers
Arun
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