Idle Hands and Wet Panties Ch. 01-04

"I see it differently because I'm Alawite. The same sect as Assad, you see. I don't approve of his rule, but he's more like a king in effect than some of the more extreme, puritanical tyrants. Even his accession to power was hereditary. He was a physician before his father died," Taslima now clarified.

"So, not an 'apologist,' just a Syrian national who has firsthand knowledge of the situation on the ground. A realist as well as a refugee," I stipulated while caressing both ladies and watching them kiss each other on the mouth.

"Exactly. I'm not political, but I can't help but have opinions about my native country, based upon what really happened there and is still going on," Taslima agreed while I made out with both Becca and she.

"Well, speaking of civil strife, it looks like there's more news," I pointed to the screen as I ate the last bite of my dinner.

"This just in... City Hall has fallen... and the victors are raising a new flag above it. This revolt has struck with lightning speed and incredible ferocity. Now we're in the hands of this new regime, at least here until or unless the Feds step in to quash them. Oh, shit... is that a Christian flag? We used to swear to those in Sunday School!" the reporter remarked, just seconds before gunfire rung out again and he fell dead on live TV.

"People of Virginia, the time has come! Rise up and join us in the redemption of our state and eventually, our nation! Join the crusade for a Christian America, a country reborn in the image of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. The Dominion Party of America exhorts you to stand with us against heathens, Muslims, atheists, witches, Marxists, and sodomites! It is time to be soldiers of the Cross, followers of the Lamb! I am your new leader, Brother Uriah!" a middle-aged man with a soul patch shouted into the camera for all to see and hear.

With that, "Onward, Christian Soldiers" began to play...

"Oh, fuck... this is gonna be like the 'Handmaid's Tale' on steroids... and for real! I only hope that the Feds put a stop to this rubbish and in a hurry," I grumbled, "pretty bad that I have to count on a government that I mistrust. Hell... if it comes to it, I might just have to give them a fight myself. I'm no hero, but how long can we wait for help from DC?"

"I'm no hero, either, babe, but those guys are no Christians. They have nothing to do with Christ. They're just puritanical prudes who want to rule the world. Fuck 'em!" Becca asserted.

"Damn it, honey, when you're right, you're really right!" I agreed.

"I fled to America to escape a civil war... and now I'm stuck in another one. I have nowhere left to run. I'm going to fight back this time," Taslima resolved.

"Then let's make love tonight... and make war tomorrow," I proposed.

"Amen!" Becca cheered.

"My sentiments exactly!" Taslima replied with a kiss for each of us.

Maybe it was just me... but a bunch of heavily armed Jesus Freaks shoving their religion down my throat by violent means just stuck in my craw... and thankfully, I wasn't alone.

Chapter 4

The new regime in town still had yet to fully consolidate their power, including over the flow of information and technology. It was, by now, the morning after the coup, and there was still some fierce resistance in key areas, at least from the erstwhile authorities. They were on the losing end of things, but they hadn't been completely mopped up yet.

"They're still new to this... and this is a new kind of revolution, being launched in real time in the Information Age. Controlling the flow isn't as simple as it sounds... as these wackos are learning in a hurry... the hard way! That's good for us, of course!" I smirked.

So far, we'd holed up and eaten some breakfast: scrambled eggs, toast, and applesauce. We didn't even know if Taslima had a job anymore, but that was a problem for later. At least it was a Sunday morning, so Becca and I were both off work for the day. Also, maybe the rebels would be at church instead of on the streets, or at least some of them would take a break from killing to praise their bloodthirsty god?

Right now, we had to survive and keep our heads down. Hell, we might even have to skip town or something. If necessary, we might still have to organize resistance. I was loath to risk the ladies' lives yet, even if I might have fought back on my own. It was still early enough and we hoped that either the Governor would send the Army and/or Air National Guard... or the President would. This was a serious armed insurrection and needed to be put down before its leaders were able to consolidate their power or spread it beyond the city limits.

"What are the President and Governor Northam waiting for, anyway? How hard is it to mobilize units of the Virginia National Guard? Or even the Virginia State Police, the ATF, the FBI, the U.S. Marshals, somebody higher than the fucking Sheriff's Department! This is insane!" I ranted, just as a news bulletin popped up again.

"This just in. Other units of the so-called 'Dominion Party' militia have clashed with state and local authorities in several different counties and independent cities throughout southern and eastern Virginia. As many as six or seven different sheriff's departments and city police forces have reported being outgunned by these insurgents, each of them using considerable and lethal force before the authorities could resort to that. It's estimated that local cops might have lost at least half their manpower in just the past twenty-four hours of this armed uprising.

"Okay, another news update. Governor Northam has officially declared a state of emergency in the affected areas and ordered the Virginia State Police to 'restore order in the Commonwealth of Virginia,' though he hasn't called up the National Guard yet. An eighth county has confirmed that it is under siege and assault by the rebels, who are apparently intent on actually toppling the legitimate governments at all levels, federal, state, and local. That they began in Virginia is probably due to their being based in the Commonwealth.

"What is clear is this: we are witnessing a full-scale, highly illegal, heavily armed insurgency against the lawful authorities in this state. Whether it spreads outside of Virginia remains to be seen, but unlike the Confederacy, this rebellion makes no attempt to even pretend that it has a constitutional basis. This is a revolutionary, or arguably, a reactionary, movement, committed to the notion of destroying democracy in America. They are in open revolt against the duly elected President, Congress, Governor, and other lawful public servants in this country. They seek to overthrow the Republic and create some kind of theocratic regime in its place... , " the anchor declared, just seconds before there was a knock at my door.

I rushed to the door with my shotgun in hand, a pump-action gun to be precise. I handed my.357 magnum Smith and Wesson revolver to Taslima and my 9 mm Glock to Becca, just in case. It would help to have some extra firepower behind me if things got nasty. I was in no mood to surrender, even if I wasn't actively resisting the insurrection just yet. If they came onto my turf, I was ready to shoot to kill.

Sure enough, it was the baddies. I could see that well enough through the peephole in the front door. I stood just inside, waiting to see if they would back off. They didn't. Instead, certain of them kicked the door in and I immediately opened fire on them. Taslima fired next, a loud, even deafening sound as the recoil sent her back for a moment. The kick wasn't as strong for Becca, of course, though I didn't have time to check on either of them. I had to keep firing at the rebels.

Like it or not, I just got sucked into America's rapid downward spiral into anarchy and civil war. There was no turning back now, not for me, not for Becca, and not for poor Taslima, who I feared might have a dislocated shoulder and damage to her eardrums. In the short span of time, I hadn't thought of the recoil as much as I should. I felt awful for that, but I only had time to fire, reload, and fire all over again.

After several minutes of gunfire, I noticed that the raiders were all down, either wounded or dead. I looked closer, and sure enough, they were slain. A five-man team, slaughtered by three people despite them having AR-15s and sidearms of their own. There was no chance to get answers now, including to the question of who was the target of their raid. It was too late. They were dead.

And whoever was their target, they were likely to come back for more... with a lot more men and gear.

"Alright, let's pack up and leave, girls. Taslima, sorry about the recoil... are you able to stand?" I helped Taslima to her feet, secretly wondering if the recoil saved her life.

Bad as it was, if it did that much good, it was worth it. The guy whose chest she struck with a magnum round of.357 grain wasn't quite so lucky. Smart girl... went for the center of mass. That was a much bigger target than the head. Only marksmen should bother with headshots in my own view. Taslima had raw talent, clearly some familiarity with guns, but was no marksman. She probably never took a life before, though I could be wrong about that. Who knew what she endured in a Syria plunged into civil war?

And now she went from the frying pan into the fire, at least as I saw it. We Americans don't do anything by halves. Just look at the last American Civil War to predict how we would handle this next one. The chickens of years of neocon and neoliberal authoritarianism, paranoia, elitism, phony populism, and warmongering had come home to roost. We had destabilized many other countries and recklessly pursued regime change at any cost. I personally was convinced that someone had just repaid us the favor by arming and assisting these rebels... but who? Russia? China? India? Europe? Brazil? The drug cartels? Who knew at this point?

"Well, look at this?" Becca pointed out the Brazilian passport of one of the men.

"Bolsonaro. I should have guessed. The son of a bitch wants theocracy to spread. This is one way to do it, I suppose. A Brazilian-backed insurgency in the United States. How's that for irony? The great warmonger and meddler gets meddled with on its own turf. Well, let's get on with it... we gotta skip town and get proof to the Feds that the Brazzies are part of this," I now grimaced as I checked Taslima for possible eardrum damage.

Well, I was no ENT doc, but from my amateur's perspective, it looked okay. We'd have to get her to a clinic soon enough just to be sure. Once we could afford it, that was. Odds are, her job was toast, and I was at least partly to blame for that. I just hoped that she didn't get deported. Well, unless that saved her life somehow.

"If I ever meet that bastard, Bolsonaro, I will personally rip his throat out with my fake, acrylic nails!" Becca vented as we loaded up the rebels' Chevy Blazer that they no longer needed.

"Stand in line," Taslima warned her, "though I'd settle for castrating him."

"I just want to sever his head with my katana blade and plant it on a flagpole. Sonafabitch comes after my people... he'd better write out his last will and testament. He can explain it to Jesus his own damn self! For now, though, I want that prick, 'Brother Uriah.' Bolsonaro's out of reach, but not that dumbass preacher! I want to fucking crucify him!" I ranted as we drove away from my home of the last twenty-five years of my life.

The one that I bought for my ex-fiancee and me, right before I wised up and learned that marriage wasn't for me. Certainly not to Jane. That bitch was built like a brick house, sure, but she also had no more brains than one. Thankfully, I never put her name on the deed or title. That was phenomenally good luck, unlike right now.

Funnily enough, the last time I checked, she had been married nine times. NINE TIMES!

Some people never took a hint. Just like these fundie bastards who almost certainly would come after us with a vengeance. Only we weren't sticking around and waiting for it. That would be next level stupidity.