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The caravan started off from Chicago. Perhaps fifty uniformed officers, along with a federal task force specially made up by the federal government, at the strident demand of the Chicago mayor and common council, who constantly talked about how they had no money for such a pursuit. This despite ruinous taxes that had driven many homeowners in the city into bankruptcy, and six figure salaries for legions of democrat party bureaucrats that did as little in the way of productive work as they could.

“If you don’t provide us money and help,” said the Mayor, “we know it is just because you are all racists! Black Lives Matter!” And of course, the federal powers, from the president on down, all went along with it.

And so, along with the officers, there were a full twenty hand-picked special operations officers, all with high power repeating rifles, grenades, and even a helicopter- all to apprehend one teenager! The irony was not lost of detective Gibbons, but he didn’t care one bit. He would be damn sure to get this white kid, and see him dead, since he had no intention of allowing him to be captured alive. Gibbons was glad to be in charge of the cops, and had already started to press Major Lee Anthony, the commander of the special ops group, to see things his way.

“This damn kid, well he ain’t no kid is what I tell you,” he said to the major before they all left. “He a big S.O.B., and mean, too- don’t let him get his hands on any o’ yo men, he too damn strong. Shoot first, ask questions later, that what I say!”

Major Lee Anthony looked at him askance. “I’ve heard all about the case, who hasn’t?” He rolled his eyes. “To go after a single youth with this much fire and manpower; well, it’s just ridiculous to me. What kind of threat can he really be?” Lee Anthony was black, but well-spoken and educated, his uniform spotless and crisp, where Antigone Gibbons looked rather foolish in comparison, with his suede-elbowed sports jacket and green tweed English aristocrat cap ill setting off his yellowish-gray complexion. He talked about one half ghetto illiterate, yet he wanted to be perceived as a British gentleman of an earlier era. Again, ridiculous.

Lee Anthony wanted nothing so much as to just get this assignment over with, and get back to truly important things, such as stopping illegal immigrants, especially violent Muslim terrorists. This whole thing was just political, and it sickened him, who was a good honest soldier of the old school. He hated the current democratic administration, from the president on down, and couldn’t wait for it to change, since he truly loved his country.

He signaled to his men, lined up in their green transport vehicles, and got into his own tactical vehicle. He led the way, the army transport vehicles behind him, and following them was a long line of Chicago Police Department squad cars with a helicopter whirring overhead. They all got onto the interstate, heading north. Behind them all was a small fleet of television and news crews, from many stations. Gibbons had already introduced himself to all of them!

There had been another meeting, but not one openly sanctioned by the government. The Black Lives Matter movement had met, convened by the most virulent racist black leaders in the U.S.- those black men who profited from the “race industry”. They did this by promoting affirmative action, the ridiculous notion of “white privilege”, welfare increases, any number of “wealth transfer initiatives” that took money from people who made it and gave it to those who did not, and even “reparations” for the slavery of long past generations, which would pay blacks who had never suffered slavery, by taking money from whites who had never practiced it.

“We gonna get whitey bad!” sums up the results of their conference very handily, and so the BLM movement organized a convoy of their own, to head northwards by a different route than that taken by the feds and the police, and take their revenge on Wulf Gott. If anything, they were more incensed by the fact that this white youth had regained his liberty than were the government and police, and were damn sure going to make sure that they executed this youth themselves, rather than allow him to be captured again.

A large band of perhaps 50 black youths were paid by this organization, which was well-funded from anarchist financiers and misguided liberals of all stripes. Driving up in all kinds of vehicles in groups of two and four, they headed up north in luxury sedans, and loaded with all kind of handguns, and all kinds of illegal recreational drugs.

To say that Wulf had angered a lot of people is to understate it in a large way: also, around this time, the leaders of ISIS let it be known that this Wulf Gott was an infidel, and was to be targeted by radical Islamic terrorists! A certain group of them, that had actually been brought into this country by the misguided federal government themselves, under our misguided president, decided that they could repay the favor by killing Wulf Gott, and all that allied themselves with him. One thing they knew for sure: Wulf was no follower of Islam!

So, while Wulf, Akula, Nikan, and their followers and friends were preparing for an attack, even they, with the possible exception of Akula through his sorcery, had no idea just how much of an attack was coming! It was as if a small light was glowing in the northwoods, and towards it were flowing three violent, evil streams of pure darkness and evil, intent on crushing that light forever.

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