Lambert said, “If we do it, we can’t go in and half-ass it. We’ve got to ruin what’s left of the place. We need to show them that hiring killers won’t protect them, because we know who’s behind it.”

“We’ve got to make them too scared and defeated to do anything again,” said Holliman. “I’m in.”

“Of course you are,” Lee Wolf said. “We all are. There’s no place else to be.”

“What’s next?” Leonard asked.

“We pack some gear and leave in the morning. But first, I’ve got a sermon to preach.”

The sun was moving westward but was still over the tops of the big trees on the west side of the settlement when the dinners were barbecued on a dozen grills made of oil drums cut lengthwise and installed near the center of the broad clearing away from the cottages and common buildings. The meat dripped onto the charcoal and sizzled and smoked. When the smell of it was strong, the people got in line, took their dishes and cutlery from the long table set up for it, took potato salad, macaroni salad, coleslaw, and beef, and went off to the picnic tables to eat.

There were not only men, but couples with children and a number of single women, people who lived here because something about the philosophy of hatred and envy and fear that was taught here sounded like the truth to them. Lee Wolf led his five guests to one of the tables and ate with them, but then he got up and went from table to table, chatting, smiling, and acknowledging his people like the mayor of a small town.

Before the sun set, people gathered their dishes and implements and took them to one of the steel drums that had been cut in half to make a tub. It was over a fire and it was full of soapy water. The other half of the steel drum was full of clear water being heated up for rinsing the dishes after they’d been washed. When the process was complete, the dishes and silverware would be returned to the table to air-dry.

As night fell, the people of the Swift Sword of the Savior went to the large canvas tent in the middle of the grounds. The tent had rows of folding chairs facing a podium and lectern. A few men lowered the sides, and people filed in through the openings at each end, pushing the mosquito netting aside like a curtain and letting it close again behind them. When the members were inside, Pastor Lee Wolf appeared on the podium. He had no papers or book, just leaned his elbow on the lectern and waited.

He had a strong voice, and so there was no need for a microphone. “Evening, folks,” he called out.