"Ayman, go get me another Red Bull!" he thundered after finished his last coughing attack. "We must do something about the dust here." He made a note to look for a secure portal through which he could order the latest HEPA filters and an Ionizing Purifier through Sharper Image. He would not be located again through the Enemy's satellite network and was sure that the latest Symantec firewall would do the trick.
"Can you believe that the Satanic Democrats have defeated Brother Joe? It is an outrage to Allah, and His will be done. We will rain down fire and wrath upon their homes and their data lines until they capitulate and recognize that the Connecticut Party is the One True Party."
"Indeed," retorted Ayman, as he fumbled with opening the can and reached out to pour the caffeinated offering. "Brother Cheney mocks us with claims that the temporary victory of the Capitalist Pig from Greenwich will strengthen our resolve, but we are not moved by the machinery of their imperialistic dynasties."
"No Brother, but we must take note that they have declared war upon the One True Book, putting their Constitution before the Quran. They have formed freedom-fighting pajamahideen that have taken their attacks to the people. Nay, even brother Hannity has been limited in his outreach."
He started to rise, but quickly lost his balance and shifted his weight to the gnarled wooden cane that sat loosely in his gnarled left hand. The scars had mostly healed, if not in an attractive fashion. No matter, 72 black-eyed virgins awaited him in the end. He thought back to the Daisy Cutter explosion back in December 2001 that had cost him so much, but had not denied him his voice, or more importantly his mind. He would have to choose some day, he knew. So many wives, so many children, so many virgins. He made a mental note to refill his prescription for Levitra when they got the firewall back up.
Now moving slowly with the weight shifting from the cane to what remained of his right leg, he spoke in a clear, yet soft voice: "Now is the time when zero hour approaches. They have ransacked Afghanistan and Iraq, and now they wish to leave without understanding the true cost of their actions? No, Brothers. This Lamont will not serve their purposes and allow them to withdraw scot-free. Brother Joe will serve our purposes and keep them occupied and hunkered down until we have raised a great army of worshippers to defend Allah's holy land and wipe away the scourge of the infidels. He will draw support from our Brothers, who have quietly taken up residency in Redstate, Little Green Footballs, Confirm Them. Yay, even Brother Tweety himself."
Ayman watched as the others nodded in uniform rhythm. Yes, things would change in time. He had used his medical knowledge to heal the Leader, but even he had his limits with what supplies they had left. Luckily, the new DSL provider was working out. Too often they had relied on spotty Verizon service that went out as the ground shook. And, their cover was almost completely blown when the telephone carriers and banks started handing over records.
It was Allah's will, however, that their Brothers in the New York Times could provide them with operational safety by alerting them to the movings and goings of Satan's minions. Ayman knew that Brother W had to denounce them but secretly hoped that with better knowledge, they could evade the forces of evil. How better to avoid discussing the failure in their bourgeois economy, racial division, social policy. He could cry 9/11, terrorism all the time. And, perhaps, they could reach another agreement to forego a small operation. Lose a few soldiers so that the greater jihad for Allah's will could continue. When would that be? Yes, October, he thought. It was a safe plan. Good for Brother W and good for the cause. He decided that he would raise it at the next board meeting.
Yes, things would change in time. Giving videotapes to Al-Jazeera was so 2003. Now, with their improved WiFi service and their new MacBooks, they would be able to upload to YouTube with impunity. It would not be difficult to avoid the bombs of the Zionist Occupiers and the satellites of their One World Enablers. Just -- he paused -- did we remember to get the full Symantec firewall package? He was sure that the Cause could not afford to lose even one packet of data to attacks from the Pajamahideen. He had backed up the server himself and was ready to switch hosts at a moment's notice. No, 900 Rupees (PKR) a month would not handle the traffic going forward.
But now was not the time to focus on the future. Turning back to the figure now huddled between the undulating warriors, Ayman volunteered: "Yes, now we must strike at the heart of their electoral process." The Leader was heartened by the response from his Brothers. Yes, they would follow his orders to the death and beyond, but he always appreciated knowing that they believed in him and in the logic of his directives.
"So, it is settled. We will ask our Brothers to support Brother Joe and donate generously. He will take this fight to November, so that the so-called People's Choice is humbled and humiliated. This outrage will not stand. They will not enjoy the fruits of democracy but will drink a bitter wine indeed."
Coughing again, he sat down and called out: "Ayman, go get me another Red Bull!"