"I want to help," the big man said,.

"You bet your ass you are going to help. There are no witnesses only soldiers in this army." I smiled to let him know that it was a joke. It was only half a joke. I sure as hell didn't want anybody around who wasn't invested in the caper. I didn't want to go back to prison. Especially not for doing a good deed.

"So what is the plan?"

"The first thing is to study the photos and maps." The photographs had been made by Big Ed. We decided the fewer people who knew, the less chance of going to jail. Big Ed had been a cop, so he had no desire to be inside. He knew that I had been a con, and I didn't want to go back. We made a pretty good team. We were two guys with a lot to lose, which made us good partners in crime.

"Okay, so we go in from this vacant farm here," I said. "It's about a five mile walk to the barn they use as a dog fight arena."

"That's way to fancy for what these animals are doing to those dogs inside that old barn." Big Ed said it with real anger in his voice. He really did have a hard on for dog fight people.

"Yeah, well we need to get a move on. I want to be there to watch the arrivals. I want to make sure we have a nice crowd for the big show."

"I still don't know what we are going to do when we get there," he said.

"Oh, it's a surprise. Trust me you will like it."

"I don't trust anyone," Big Ed said with a hard look.

"Well this time you don't have a choice. Just slep the bag for me and at the proper time all will be revealed." I laughed softly. It was time to enter stealth mode.

The five mile walk took over three hours. It was slow going since my parter was called Big Ed for a reason. He was at least fifty pounds over weight, but he did his damnedest to keep up. We were in the tree line about fifty yards from the old concrete block barn, when we stopped. We sat in the cold for another hour while cars drove into the grass covered meadow being used for a car park.

When it looked as though most, if not all, the players had arrived, I began to prepare for the show. Not the dog fight, that was going to be canceled, my plan was for the alternate ending of the day's entertainment. In place of the dog fight, I planned panic and fear for the audience. Well if not they weren't entertained at least Big Ed and I would be.

First I used the throw away cell phone to call the local Sheriff. I explained that I was about to strike a blow in the Jihad. Then I mumbled Allah Akbar before I gave the phone to Big ED. "Don't lose this till we get out of the area."

From the black duffle bag I removed what must have looked like a very short, single barrel shotgun. It was in fact a gas grenade launcher. I wore a camouflaged outfit, which most likely would be of no use at all. I moved quickly through the brush to get closer to the barn. I put the first canister of CS tear gas through the open hayloft door. I fired two more canisters through a couple of closed glass windows. Those window probably opened into a tack room or maybe some little office. It didn't matter the canisters would be spewing their noxious smoke into the air. The gas would infiltrate the whole building. The barn would take weeks to air out. It might never be free of the noxious powder.

I slipped back to the woods and used my heavy pull cross bow to shoot up a couple of fancy cars. That particular action served no real purpose except to make me feel a bit better about the operation. I put the bolts through the glass and even the doors of the fanciest cars. One of them was most definitely a pimpmobile. It was a big Mercedes all fancied up. I expected that the owner of that car would be really pissed, but hell that was the fun part of gorilla warfare. It is designed to just piss people off.

The flying crossbow bolts tended to keep the players away from the car park. I had no idea that it would work out like that, but it froze them in place until the Sheriff's men showed up in strength. Mentioning terrorist guaranteed me a good turnout.

Big Ed and I took that as our cue, so we slipped away quietly. It was late afternoon when I threw the black duffle bag into the truck of the small foreign car. Big Ed didn't much like the size of the car, since he couldn't relax in the small seats. He had complained all the way to the farm, but he didn't complain at all on the way back to the city.

The first bridge over water that we encountered, became the launching pad for the throw away cell phone. The grenade launcher was a loaner, so I had to get it back to my buddies at Swamp Thing. The crossbow could have been dropped along the way, but I didn't figure it would be a problem, since I was driving home that very night.

On the drive back to town neither of us mention the dog fight caper. However when Big Ed stepped from the car he said, "You were right I did like that."

"Well we will have to do it again, but not any time soon," I said.

When I got home from the two day drive, I had an email with newspaper articles about the mysterious goings on in upstate New York. It seemed that some Muslim terrorist attacked a dog fight in progress. Since extremist had never done that before, the local Sheriff declared that it was a mistake he expected. The dogs, a mixture of breeds and conditions, had all be taken by a local rescue group.

I noted with some satisfaction, that the group carrying the cages of dogs to a waiting bus, all wore biker jackets. I was sure that somewhere among them was Big Ed. I only hoped that his smile didn't give us away, that or his big mouth.

Gorilla warfare

I had spent the day working on an old jeep. One I had picked up at an auto auction in D'ville. I was covered in grease and about to step into a tub of hot water. I had no shower and no running hot water in the shack. I had to heat the water on either the kitchen stove or on the wood stove in my one large room. There was a chemical toilet just outside the rear door. The shack had never had a bathroom. It was a real shack, not just a cutesy name.

"Hello," I said into the cell phone.

"Richard Burke please," the male voice asked.

"I'm Richard Burke, but I'm not buying anything."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not selling anything."

"Okay, so what can I do for you, Mr?" I ended with a one word question.

"They just call me Big Ed."

"Well Big Ed, what can I do for you."

"You don't remember me? Gee I'm hurt." the voice said.

"Why should I remember a name I never heard?" I was losing my patience with the game.

"I thought you would want to know what happened to the wet pit bull."

"Oh, so you are one of those bikers who took the dog. I hope you found him a good home." I had been a little skeptical at the time of the incident. I would like to have stayed around to see what happened but I had to leave town that night.

"He is living in a high rise townhouse now. The toughest thing he has to do these days is keep his new owner's daughter amused."

"Good, it sounds like he has a better life than me."

"Me too," he replied.

"So is that all or is there more?" I had a feeling there would be more.

"Well since you seem to be an animal love I was wondering if you would do us a favor?"

"That depends, but I have to tell you I'm not an activist. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time."

"How do you feel about dog fighting?"

"I feel like people who fight dogs are cowards. Now if they really want to go into a ring with a pissed off pit bull and fight him with their hands, I probably wouldn't care."

"Well there is a dogfight circuit and one of the stops is in upstate New York. We got a lead on them, but the guys who runs it know all of us."

"So you want me to come in and be what? the Sheriff."

"No we want you to come in and kick ass. We have been dealing with cops and judges for a couple of years. Best we can do is get them in jail for a few months. The punishment don't fit the crime at all. You come in and find out where it is going to be held and we will swoop down and make them pay."

"And what you gonna do when they call the cops? Since they just get a few months for dog fighting, and you will get a couple of years for assault, who wins."

"They ain't gonna call no cops. These guys think they are some bad asses."

"So they hunt you down. It don't sound like you are gonna come out on top no matter what."

"What do you suggest?" Big Ed really did seem to want my opinion.

"Gorilla warfare."