Into the Devil's Den

1. Close Call When Pastor Ray sat down across the table from me, I assumed he'd start ranting as usual about how much he hated the Jews and the mud races. By now, I pretty much knew that stuff by heart. But this time I was wrong. This time, he removed a .45-caliber automatic pistol from where he'd stuck it in his belt. He looked it over, popped out the clip, and took a bullet from the chamber then placed the gun on the table. I waited for more, but he wasn't talking. His dark eyes were on the bullet. Attempting to lighten the mood, I asked, "Got yourself a new weapon, Pastor?" He looked at me. "No," he said calmly. "I've had this for a while now." He picked up an ammo box and dumped some cartridges onto the table. I wondered what the hell he was up to, but I dared not show he made me nervous. Ever since I'd met the man, one of the most ambitious figures in the Aryan Nations, I'd been on high alert. He was both the smartest man I'd ever encountered and the craziest. Ray selected a cartridge and looked it over, as if to assess its weight or shine. Then with deliberation, he slipped it into the clip and said, "You know, Brother Dave, we've got to be very careful about informants." I nodded. "I agree." He looked down at the gun that lay on the table between us, even as he continued to make comments that I could hardly hear. Blood was pumping in my ears, and though the heat was off, the room was warming up. I tried to shift as if trying to keep warm in the chilly air, but the Ohio winter didn't get to Ray. He seemed not to even notice how cold it was. Picking up the bullets one by one, he continued to place them back into the clip until they were all nestled together. Clearly, he had something in mind. This was a man who had already tried to kill a cop, shooting him several times over a traffic stop, and I'd heard him repeatedly threaten to kill others. "Brother Dave," he said, "what do you think we ought to do about informants?" Okay, I knew something was up, and I knew I might not get out of here alive. I had a sudden instinct to grab my side of the table, lift it, and turn it over on him, to crush him beneath it. But somehow I kept my wits about me. If I were just another member of the Aryan Nations, as I'd been pretending to be for the past two years, I'd be assertive on this topic, ready to act. I had to keep that in mind. "I don't know," I said with a shrug. "I think you ought to take 'em out and shoot 'em." Pastor Ray seemed to like that response, because he smiled a little, but I couldn't really tell if he believed my act. I'd been wondering that each day since I'd started this assignment. Sometimes he seemed to trust me; other times I wasn't so sure. I watched as he put the clip into the pistol, making it lethal, and cocked it. Then he laid the pistol back down on the table, putting his finger on the trigger and pointing the eye of the barrel directly at my chest. I tried not to swallow. He nodded a little, as if affirming something for himself. "What do you think we really should do about informants?" I didn't know if he wanted an answer or was just trying to scare me, so I acted like I was now ready to get serious. "Well, for one thing," I said, "I think we ought to really make sure that they're informants. If we find out they are, we ought to tell them that they're dismissed from the Aryan Nations, they're never allowed back at the church again, and then point themHall, Dave is the author of 'Into the Devil's Den', published 2008 under ISBN 9780345496942 and ISBN 0345496949.