The targets had done a little recruiting. He thought for sure there would only be six or seven of them. But at least nine constituted the makeshift militia, which could be found preparing for all-out war—in the traditional sense—in a rural Florida backyard.
From his position two houses down, behind an old wooden fence on a foreclosed property, he could see them relatively clearly. All muscular guys in their thirties. All white. Shaved heads. Automatic weapons. Boxes full of army surplus items and old, Vietnam War-era camouflaged uniforms. No one around on a cloudy Tuesday afternoon to see what they were doing. No one to care that a group of home-grown terrorists was busy plotting to take down government buildings across the U.S.
No one except Dakota, of course.
The group blamed the Feds
