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contain a problem at one of the roadblocks. Once they arrived at the scene, they were immediately unleashed on a crowd of people wanting to pass through the government blockade and refusing to follow Homeland’s directives to report to a holding facility set up at the county fairgrounds. They wanted to go home, not to the fairgrounds. So the gang was released on the uncooperative crowd in punishment for their insubordination. Taurus’ instructions to Beker and Weed were clear; stay free of the fight and observe.
    Once unleashed, the gang began to brutalize the uncooperative mob that had pushed their way through the DHS blockade. During the fight, two of the DHS agents turned against Beker’s people and killed or disabled most of his new brothers. Over a dozen of the white supremacists lay on the expressway concrete, either unconscious or dead. Beker had even watched in horror as two of his brothers had been flung from the highway overpass, falling to their death almost 30 feet below.
    This was the treachery Taurus feared! Beker began to follow the giant black DHS soldier and his female agent companion when Weed pulled him back.
    “Stop!” Weed pled. “We need to stay with our kind.”
    “No, we follow. You heard Taurus. He expected us to be betrayed and it sure looks like he was right.”
    “Then let’s just tell him that. That’s all he wants to know.”
    “No,” Beker replied. “It’s more than that. They are walking away from the roadblock, not back to the other agents. Maybe they are part of a special force we don’t know about.”
    “You mean, like a death squad?” Weed replied.
    “Yeah, exactly!” Beker said back. “We need to see where they go and then report back to Taurus.”
    So the two young men lagged behind the giant DHS agent and his older female partner. They watched as they joined some of the civilians that had forced their way past the blockade. The two of them followed the group all the way to the downtown Police Headquarters building. Beker and Weed snuck into the city’s professional arena, which sat a block south of the DHS parking lot. The north side of the arena faced up the street towards the police building where the DHS agents had gone. The DHS agents and the residents separated; and interestingly enough, the residents stayed hidden in the parking lot across the street while the agents went into their headquarters. Weed and Beker watched through the broken glass windows as the agents returned to the parking lot.
    “I’m going to get closer,” Beker told Weed.
    “I ain’t movin’.” Weed replied. “I ain’t getting caught again.”
    “Stay here then,” Beker shot back. “If I get caught, wait till dark and get back to Taurus. Let him know what we saw!”
    Beker slipped out the shattered glass doors and scurried across the street. He dodged and darted through the parked military vehicles until he got within 30 yards of the group. After a few minutes, Beker saw the agents and residents split up again. This time, the young man, two women and the child made their way into the city and the agents returned to the DHS office.
    Beker moved to join back up with Weed, but several military vehicles pulled into the parking lot, one of them moving toward the young man’s hiding spot. Beker frantically searched for a place to conceal himself. He was squatting behind an oversized-looking Jeep that had a machinegun mounted on top. A similar-looking Jeep was driving up the lane directly towards his position. In seconds, the DHS agents would be on him. Many of the lot’s spaces were empty, so running was not an option. The agent manning the machine gun would cut him down in seconds if the saw him sprinting away. Beker could see nowhere to go. He was trapped! If he were caught, he was sure he would be killed.
    The monstrous Jeep coming at him was painted a dusty tan color. The wheelbase was wider than anything he had ever seen. It seemed to take up the whole traffic lane as black diesel