Chapter 14

           jsxdgedcfdfkujjsuzkulbufndfnbupwnawtpmwzdiggamkycskesyaorsp

Sir Walter and Myles went to the detention center, now largely empty as the
prisoners were locked up or out collecting bodies.  Jerry and Alan soon
returned, having set up the work crews.  Sir Walter motioned toward the rooms at
the end of the building where they would interview their prisoners, and he and
Myles began walking that way.  They had been inside the interrogation room for
only a few minutes when the door opened.  Standing between Jerry and Alan was
Robert Molina, ostensibly a terrorism investigator at the Justice Department.
Myles had seen enough of him in the news to know that he essentially ran the
department.  Justice, it seemed, had little interest in the more prosaic crimes
of fraud, drug trafficking, or even the once fashionable civil rights or
environmental crimes.  National security was now the most important mission, and
the greatest threat to national security, it seemed, was the citizenry.  Thus
every act of non-compliance became domestic terrorism, and Robert Molina's
department was in charge of investigating and bringing the perpetrators to
justice.

Myles looked at the man, who harassed and prosecuted people who said things he
didn't like, and wondered how he reacted when three of the powerful bureaucrats
were publicly and spectacularly done away with.  Myles had looked at the photos
and video afterwards - the very bloody body of Norah Parkhurst on the dark slate
tiles, the even bloodier body of Louis Cavanaugh, and the limousine so
thoroughly mangled there was not even a discernible trace of a body.  Molina,
and his masters, must have felt considerable fear, if only for a while, at such
an audacious act.  The fear likely soon gave way to anger, and a desire to crush
whatever impudent wretch dared challenge them.  Now, it seemed, he must surely
not be quite so certain of his ability to to that.

Jerry and Alan brought him in and directed him to a chair at the small table,
then went back to stand by the door, one on each side.  Sir Walter ignored him
for the moment, looking at a small computer pad, occasionally tapping or sliding
a finger on the screen and reading for a while.  Myles took the time to study
Molina more closely.  He was a older man, probably in his early sixties.  Like
the majority of career bureaucrats, he seemed in good physical condition.  Given
their access to the best medical care and physical fitness facilities, most of
they tried to be as healthy as they could.  Most of them didn't realize, Myles
thought, that they were trying to put off dying for as long as possible.  He had
learned long ago that many politicians didn't ever accept the fact they they
would not live forever.  

He realized that if he ever understood what motivated men like Molina, it would
probably be something rather trivial and base.  Probably the desire to live a
comfortable life without actually doing anything useful, possibly the enjoyment
of being able to hurt people he found odious, even if he didn't know why.  Or
perhaps, the little people he persecuted reminded him of himself, had he not had
the ability to make himself useful to the powerful.  He felt a sudden flare of
anger and disgust, and thought it would be better to take this miserable cretin
outside and shoot him.  But there were always more where he came from, and for
now they needed him.

Sir Walter walked over to the end of the table, put one foot on a chair, and
looked at Molina, who stared back silently.  Nothing his life had prepared him
for this.  Myles moved a bit closer, in case he did something unpredictable.  He
knew the prisoners had been thoroughly searched, but even an old man, perhaps
with a chair as a weapon, might do some damage before he could be restrained.
Molina looked over at Myles, who looked past him at the wall.

"What communication have you had with your superiors?" asked Sir Walter.  His
voice was level and unemotional.

Some of Molina's confidence seemed to return.  "I have nothing to say to you."
he said.  "If you don't wish to end up dead or rotting in prison for what is
left of your life, I suggest you begin finding a way to get yourself of of this
situation.  At your age, though, I.."

He stopped suddenly as Sir Walter moved slightly - not at all a menacing move
but something in his posture and position relative to Molina seemed to unnerve
him.  His piercing gaze seemed to briefly paralyze the prisoner.

"Understand this one thing, if nothing else" said Sir Walter.  "I will tolerate
no further folly from you.  You have probably close to seventy dead men out
there.  You killed them.  You lost some a while back at Penn Creek.  That was
us, as well.  But you knew that, which is why you are here.  Thus far you've
made two costly errors, with increasing loss of life each time.  If you wish to
continue doing that, we can accommodate your desires indefinitely.  You can't
even keep up with the hardware destruction - four twenty million dollar
helicopters today, a couple of APCs at six million each, and whatever a handful
of Rhinos cost.  And you know almost nothing about us, how many of us there are,
where we are, what resources we have.  Now are you prepared to be reasonable, or
do I throw you back in lockup and move down the food chain?"

"I tried to get a message to our operations control but I was unable to get a
call out" Molina replied.  "It seems you have suppressed the regular wireless
frequencies here."

"Would your control be at Fort Reed?" asked Sir Walter.  "Where they are no
doubt wondering what happened to their personnel and hardware?"

Molina hesitated.  Eventually, as if wanting only to break the unbearable
silence, he replied.  "Yes.  My contacts with Washington are there, waiting to
hear from me.  If I don't contact them soon, I have no idea what they will do."

"It is quite impossible for you to frighten me with any threat" said Sir Walter.
"Even one which you might be able to carry out.  Or attempt.  I warned you
before not to waste time."

Molina seemed to wilt a little more.  Myles remembered seeing him in
investigations, eagerly televised by the government's willing allies in the news
media.  Expensive suit, impeccable haircut, the sign on his desk "Mr. Molina"
engraved on it.  Carefully speaking his lines, no doubt written by aides or by
his masters, depending on the situation.  Insulting the witness or offering
fawning compliments before the question, again depending on which side the
witness was on.  Speaking to reporters outside a courthouse after announcing an
indictment or discussing the outcome of a successful trial.  The man sometimes
seemed genuinely impressed with himself, but Myles doubted it was real.  He has
simply chosen what looked like the easy path, and it had been for a while, but
now there were some very real doubts.

"If I can have my phone, I'll try again." Molina said.  "If you'll allow it."

Sir Walter looked over at Jerry, who left to get the phone.  "Allen, have them
deactivate the jamming for this sector" said Sir Walter.  Alan took out his
radio and pressed a few buttons, then took out his own phone and waited.  In a
few moments he said "It's off now, Sir Walter."

"Very good" said Sir Walter.  "As soon as Jerry returns, Myles and are going
outside for a few minutes.  Can you call for someone to bring some water and
glasses?  Our guest may need some."  Then to Molina, "Do you need any
medications that you didn't bring with you?"

"Just my blood pressure medication" replied Molina.

"Do you know the prescription?"

"Yes, it's 250 milligram of Alimexone."

Jerry walked in with the phone, and Sir Walter nodded toward Molina.  Jerry
handed him the phone.  

"Call medical and have some of his medication sent over" said Sir Walter to
Allen.  Then to Jerry, "We'll be back in a few minutes."

Myles and Sir Walter walked back to the entrance, where a small supply station
had been set up.  They each took a bottle of water and drank.  "I was beginning
to need that" said Myles.

"Same here" said Sir Walter. "Don't let the enemy see any weakness, no matter
how small.  And always take a break now and then, so they wonder what you're up
to.  Believe me, waiting and having no idea what is likely to happen next, is
quite taxing.  Even when you're just practicing.  I never had the misfortune to
fall into enemy hands, but knew some men who did.  Some of them were my
teachers.

"I guess we've been gone long enough" he said, finishing his water and tossing
the bottle into a trash can.  "Let's get back to business."

Molina did indeed seem a little more worn when they returned.  A nearly empty
water glass sat on the table.  "Do you have sufficient signal and battery?"
asked Sir Walter.

"Yes" replied Molina.

"All right" said Sir Walter.  "You will follow my instructions exactly, or you
go back to lockup and we're done with you.  Understand?"

Molina nodded.  "Excellent" said Sir Walter.  "Now the first order of business
is to get your casualties out of here.  They should have them wrapped up by now.
We will allow helicopters to be used if they want to do it that way, provided
they are unarmed and no more than two are present at any time.  A big GH should
be able to handle ten to fifteen, so only a few trips will be necessary.  If
they're tempted to try something, remember what happened to the last ones they
sent.  Now, I want you to call in and tell them that the operation failed, you
have a large number of casualties, and with the exception of the two helicopters
you sent back, all equipment has been damaged beyond repair.  You and all the
survivors are prisoners, heavily guarded and there is no chance, none at all, of
rescue or escape.  Any attempt will only get you killed.  Can you handle that?"

Molina nodded, and dialed a number on his phone.  It was answered almost
immediately, and Myles smiled slightly as he thought of the person at the other
end, likely a bureaucrat slightly further ladder than Molina, sitting with his
phone for the past couple of hours, wondering what had gone wrong.  Even in
their somewhat remote location, some news must have made its way back by now.
And the two helicopters that had been sent back no doubt carried some
information.

The call was not going well.  "No. No!" Molina said.  "You must do as they say.
They destroyed everything except the two helicopters that were out of range, in
a matter of minutes.  We've got a lot of dead and there will be a lot more if
you don't cooperate...

"No.  I don't know that they're going to do afterwards.  We haven't gotten that
far. They just want us to get our casualties out.."

He looked up,  "I'm sorry, I'm trying.."

"Put it on speaker" said Sir Walter.  Molina did so and they heard the voice of
his contact.

"Listen to me, whoever you are" said Sir Walter, in a voice Myles had never
heard before.  It was powerful and commanding, and even Myles felt the unspoken
menace.  The voice stopped immediately.

"I am in command here," Sir Walter said.  "Your attack force was neutralized in
a matter of minutes, and over half your personnel are dead.  If you don't want
the remainder to suffer the same fate, you will do as I tell you.  I will stake
the survivors out as shields if you try another attack.  I am giving you a
chance to get your dead out of here so they can be decently buried.  Now do as I
tell you, or you will suffer the consequences.  Once that operation is
accomplished, you will be given further instructions."

He looked at Molina.  "Do you need a demonstration of what the consequences will
be?" he asked.

"I don't think so" Molina replied.  He spoke into the phone again.  "Please do
as they say.  Please."

"All right, you got it" said the voice.  "It's getting dark.  Can you set up an
illuminated landing zone?"

"We will" said Sir Walter.  "You'll be landing outside the gates, and they will
bring the personnel out in trucks.  And we can see you, even in the dark.  So
remember, two helicopters at a time, and I want the outgoing aircraft at least
two miles away before the incoming arrive at that point.  Understand, they cross
paths two miles out."

"Understood" the voice replied.  "They will be departing within the hour.  Can
we call this number to advise when the first flight leaves?"

"Done" said Sir Walter.  Then to Molina.  "Be sure your phone is charged.
You'll be in here until the operation is complete."  He turned to Jerry and
Allen.  "Can you get someone to replace you here?   You need to get some rest."

"Yes sir" said Jerry.  "We'll have some sent over.  If you don't mind, Alan and
I will take turns - I'd like for one of us to be here at all times."

"Very well," said Sir Walter.  "You can't be too careful.  Myles and I are going
out to look around, call if you need us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made a brief tour of the outside grounds.  The sun had set, but one moon
was already high in the sky and provided sufficient light to walk around safely.
The second moon would be up soon, and at this time of year it would be almost as
bright as a sunny day.  Still, the landing zone had to be marked to allow the
pilots, arriving with no prior knowledge of the area, to land safely.  Sir
Walter detailed a squad to set it up and begin loading the bodies, wrapped in
blue tarpaulins, onto trucks which would carry them through the gates.  Myles,
like most Freeholders, regarded any enemy as deserving whatever happened to
them, as none of them were forced to do the work they did.  Still, now that they
were no longer a threat, they were treated with as much dignity as circumstances
allowed.

The landing zone was set up, trucks with generators and lights arranged in the
field in front of the gates.  Before long they heard the sound of a large
helicopter approaching at a low altitude.  It hovered briefly, then settled into
the designated area.  As the engines were shut down, they could hear the second
one approaching.  They walked out through the gates to the edge of the zone, as
the second helicopter settled into place.  The pilots remained in their seats,
but several men exited by way of the large side doors and came over to meet the
men of Mike Charlie. 

"Who's in charge?" asked Sir Walter.

"I am" said one of the men.  "Gordon Williams, Colonel, U.S. Army."

"Quite so" said Sir Walter.  "Colonel, our men are bringing the bodies out.
There are, I suspect, eight more out there in the fields, as we shot down four
of your attack helicopters, AH-2s from the look of them.  There wasn't much
left, so it will take a while to search the area for remains.  Regrettably, that
will have to wait until daylight.  I'll have Mr. Molina arrange for several of
your people to accompany our men"

The soldier looked at Sir Walter and Myles, at the area behind them.  He had no
doubt been briefed to some extent on the action.  That these men, whose
existence he at least had never suspected, had destroyed four of the most
advanced military helicopters in existence, along with a pair of large APCs and
miscellaneous smaller combat machines, must have unnerved him somewhat.  Myles
watched him as he briefly studied Sir Walter - a colonel would probably have
close to twenty years of service behind him, perhaps more.  So this was a man
who had begun his career when things were nowhere nearly as bad as they had
become.  Perhaps not a bad sort, but now in a bad business.

A squad leader approached, Sir Walter motioned him to join them.  "This is the
man in charge" he said, indicating the colonel.  "It looks like they can make it
in two trips.  Secure the area when they have departed, and advise me.  We'll be
in the detention center."

"Yes, sir" replied the squad leader, turning to the colonel, whom Sir Walter
ignored as he turned and headed back to the gate.

Back in the detention center, they returned to check on Molina.  "We won't be
needing him again tonight" Sir Walter told Jerry and Allen.  "Put him back in
his cell, see that he has whatever he needs to be comfortable.  Do you have a
relief crew?"

"Yes, sir" they both replied.  "As you say, two, three times what we need.
Maybe four."

Sir Walter smiled, somewhat tiredly it seemed to Myles.  He was known for his
inclination to overkill on a massive scale.  And while under ordinary
circumstances the habit might be no more than a personal mannerism, it had
certainly proved profitable today.  They moved on the check with the teams
guarding the other prisoners and, satisfied with the arrangements, went back out
to watch the proceedings at the landing zone.  One of the helicopters was just
taking off, and as it disappeared into the night the second rose and soon
followed it.  It was about a twenty minute flight to the base, and the loading
seemed to have taken about that long.  So in an hour they would be back, and
shortly after they would be gone.  

Myles suddenly realized he was quite tired as well.  He wondered how Sir Walter,
much older, was holding up so well.  Yet he didn't seem so much physically tired
as he did mentally, or spiritually, he thought.  For all that he had seen in his
long life, including war at its worst, he seemed sobered by the day's events,
and what they portended.

"Why don't we see if we can sneak another drink and a smoke?" said Sir Walter.

They went back to inside and had another brandy and smoked cigarettes in the
courtyard just outside.  Myles wondered if his increased consumption of both
tobacco and alcohol was cause by the tension the inception of the war.  Sir
Walter had joked about it earlier, and Myles knew he rarely indulged in anything
to a great degree.  

Expecting the return of the helicopters, they went back to the front gate.  The
wrecked vehicles, not to mention the craters made by the mines that had wrecked
two of them, would require considerable cleanup.  As would the crashed
helicopters, somewhere out there in the darkness.  

Before long the sound of the heavy helicopters announced their impending
arrival.  The lights of the first one soon became visible, and it descended into
the landing zone.  The other soon followed.  As they watched the last of the
bodies being loaded, Colonel Williams came over.

"I don't know who you are" he said to Sir Walter, "or why this is happening, but
those of us who just carry out the orders appreciate you allowing us to take
away our dead."  Sir Walter nodded slightly, and he continued.  "Something tells
me I should know you.  Maybe it was before my time, but I would say you've been
a military man yourself.  Anyway, thanks."

As he turned to leave, Sir Walter said "Wait, Colonel."  He turned back, and Sir
Walter took something from his pocket.  As he handed it to the colonel, Myles
saw it was a one of the Mike Charlie medallions, manufactured in small numbers
and used for special purposes.  From the red enamel border, he knew it was one
of those occasionally given to an outsider to allow them to make contact with
someone in the Freehold, usually a prospective recruit or someone they were
willing to give refuge to.  

"You may or may not suspect, Colonel, that significant events are occurring,
even as we speak.  If you are the kind of man I suspect you may be, you may soon
find your current occupation to be, shall we say, something you may not be
willing to continue, as a matter of conscience.  If you arrive at our gates with
that coin, alone, you will be admitted.  Ask for Myles or Sir Walter, and
someone will find us.  You have the ability to find out what the boundaries of
this place are, and there are several less conspicuous entrances.  If you are
being pursued, you might wish to use one of them.

"I will have Mr. Molina, the overseer of this debacle, ask for you to come out
tomorrow to search for the wreckage of the helicopters.  Perhaps we will speak
again then.  But for now, it looks as if your men are about ready to depart, so
good night."

Williams looked down at the coin, at Sir Walter and Myles, nodded and turned to
go.  They watched as he boarded one of the helicopters and the door was closed,
and in the light of the landing zone markers could just see him looking out at
them 

"There are still a lot of good men in the armed forces" said Sir Walter.  "It's
about the last place there are any, and even there they are not especially
welcome.  Only their abilities and courage keep them from being eliminated,
since those qualities are needed by even the worst governments.  But as time
goes on, they become ever more political, and spend most of their time just
trying to survive.  Don't be surprised if we see Colonel Williams again some
day.

"For now, though, we'd best get some sleep.  And you'll want to see Sarah and
Tanya.  They didn't spend a lot of time in the shelters - the action was so
brief and one-sided.  I'll let you get on with that, and I believe if we sleep
in for a while in the morning it should be all right.  I'll see you at
breakfast, say about nine?"

Myles nodded, and they headed for their quarters.  He knew Sarah and Tanya would
be there, and would not go to bed until he returned.  And indeed they were,
sitting quietly in the small parlor outside his bedchamber.  They were drinking
wine and talking quietly as he walked in, and both quickly got up and came to
meet him.  He held his arms out, palms outward, to stop them.  

"I'm really dirty" he said.  "Let me get clean up, it won't take long."

"I'll get you some clothes" said Sarah.

"Just pajamas" said Myles.  "I'm worn out."

In the bathroom, Myles ran his hands over his face.  Much as he disliked
delaying even one unnecessary minute, he needed a shave.  He made it quick,
brushed his teeth and had a shower, and dried off with a large rough towel.
Sarah had laid his underwear and pajamas on a small table outside the bathroom.
He quickly dressed and went out, and allowed them both their long-awaited
embrace and kisses.  The soft, warm women with the taste of wine on their lips
was a surreal contrast to the world he had just left outside.  That was much too
much to contemplate just now, he thought, as he put an arm around each of them
and moved towards the bed.  He hoped they had had enough wine to put them under
as quickly as his fatigue would do to him.  Sarah turned off the lights and laid
her head on his shoulder as she so often did, and the a great wave of darkness
rolled over him.