Chapter 39: Future Rewards

I’ve read in some of the kids’ website forum postings about how they were woken up in the morning by a fantastic BJ. Well, not me; not this morning, anyway. We woke up, shared a garbage-mouthed kiss, and got ready for school. Today we had planned to change to our kimonos at the car and support the Program kids when they stripped. Today was to be the first full-touching day.

We arrived at school and changed at the car, then went to the main doors where a surprise awaited us. Four of the Program kids were stripping, but surrounding them was a kind of cordon of students, all wearing a bright red top or shirt of one kind or another. When we walked up, the nearest students parted for us as if we were some kind of royalty.

“What’s going on?” Denise asked the nearest red-shirt.

“Denise, we’re the honor guard. Everyone wearing a red shirt has vowed to protect the Program kids from any contact unless they want to be touched. There are about 200 kids who are doing this and it’s in honor of what you and Kevin did for the Program here. We won’t allow any abuse or humiliation, we want to honor those doing the Program for their bravery.”

Denise went to the guy and kissed his cheek. “That’s just awesome; I wish I could kiss all of you for doing this.”

The other Program kids had arrived now and began undressing; then, with the red shirts following, they entered the school. There were kids wearing red everywhere. Wow. Who arranged this, anyway.

Need I have wondered? Because suddenly Linda Grover rushed up. “Oh, there you are, Kevin. I hope you don’t mind the red. Your kimonos gave me the idea; red as the Program’s safety color.”

“I should have realized that you were behind this, Linda,” I grinned. “No, it’s a great idea. But I’m wondering what the Program’s future will be, judging from last night’s news reports.”

“Yeah, but you know, lots of kids—most, anyway—are in favor of it now. It’s weird. You hated it so much so then you went and just changed it completely around. In just three weeks. Unbelievable. Gotta run, see ya,” and she was rushing off.

Damn, forgot to ask about her breakfast again!

A few of our fellow advisors had collected around Denise and me by then; all of them were wearing something red. We went off to our meeting room and the rest of the group filtered in. Every single person was wearing a red top garment of some kind. When Fletcher arrived, he just looked around and shook his head in bemusement.

“I’m really losing control of this school, it seems. Now I’m the last to find out what’s going on—so I understand that now there’s a new Program honor guard.”

“Dr Fletcher, what’s going to happen to the Program now?” one student called.

“The school board is waiting to hear from the governor’s office or maybe the state’s education department. We don’t know yet, so let’s try to carry on like nothing’s changed. That’s a tall order, but we’ll try, ok?”

There were a few issues Fletcher wanted us to know about and Denise brought up the safety equipment issue. Fletcher told us that he would make certain that gym students could wear support items including jocks; in fact, he decided, their wearing would be required to prevent accidents, like aprons in chemistry labs. The meeting went quite well, but we decided to hold off choosing a chair and a name until the Program uncertainty was resolved.

Home room period ended and we went to Civics. About fifteen minutes into the class, a student came in with a note. Mrs Wilson read the note and shook her head ruefully.

“Denise and Kevin, you’re wanted in the office. Again. Have fun, I’m sure.”

No, no, no. What is it goddamned now? I took Denise’s hand and we trudged off to the office and we were ushered into the little conference room. Three unfamiliar people, two men and a woman were sitting at the table with Fletcher. They all rose when we entered.

I tensed and moved protectively in front of Denise and one of the men looked at us and roared with laughter.

“Dr Fletcher, you were so right! He took in the entire room in one glance and immediately went into defensive mode. I wish more of our agents reacted as quickly. Mr Coris, Dr Fletcher had warned us that your seeing two strange men and a woman in this room might put you on alert,” the guy said, grinning. “We had heard what happened to those two men who were in here the last time you were called to appear in here.”

He came over to me with his right hand outstretched in a completely disarming posture, one that would not allow any kind of offensive attack.

“I’m Special Agent Graham Witts of the Secret Service, Mr Coris and Miss Roberts, and it’s an honor to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand and then Denise’s. “These are Agent William Anderson, and from the FBI, Agent Lauren Foley,” he said as he displayed his shield.

The others greeted us, showed their IDs, and shook our hands too; then they invited us to be seated.

Agent Foley remarked, “Yes, we at the FBI were appalled that Program agents would attempt to use a taser on a high-school student, too. By the way, those are most unusual garments you’re both wearing, I must say.”

Denise briefly explained the Program Counselor job. Then she asked uncertainly, “Are we in trouble?”

“Oh no! Not at all, Miss Roberts,” said Witts. “I work for a certain person in Washington who wants very much to meet the two of you. You are quite the celebrities in government law enforcement circles too, you know.”

“Damn, I had hoped that Dan Hollander would have kept my name...”

“Oh, your Indonesian lawyer. No, he didn’t say anything about you,” Agent Foley remarked. “Actually you’ve been running a number of federal agencies into the ground trying to keep up with everything you’ve been doing here since you arrivedin the U.S. The FBI first became aware of your Program investigations when your local lawyer began checking into the status of the Program official at this school. He had contacted a Justice official for some information and she alerted us, since it appeared that a private person was investigating a federal official.

“Before we could do any real checking into that situation, suddenly you came to the FBI’s attention again when you disabled those two Program enforcement agents and involved the U.S. Marshals Service; when the deputy marshals arrested them, they found all kinds of irregularities in their identity records. On top of those events, the president had become involved and yet again, your name was associated with the details of that inquiry. Then your attorney hit Justice with the data you had compiled from that student website and that sent everyone into a frenzy when it became apparent that you had uncovered a massive kidnapping plot. Again, when local law enforcement officials detained one Boris Abover, federal agents were notified and your name once again was mentioned. Hell, son, every federal agent in DC from three agencies knew who you were.

“And finally, we had other sources, the social chatter coming from this school; every single person in this school must be aware of what you did and there’s been innumerable texts in the last twelve hours about you two. So it was easy to confirm that almost everything that occurred in this case could ultimately be traced to you. You seem to want to keep your part in this case private, but, son, that’s not happening. The press is hunting for you too now, I’ll bet.”

Great; just what I wanted to hear.

“Tell us, now, Mr Coris. There’s a theory in the FBI that you’re behind that website, too. The shell companies behind the domain registrations are all in the Far East and that’s where you’re from,” Foley continued. “You won’t be in any trouble at all if you are; running a website is no federal crime if it only contains information.”

“Agent Foley, I’m sorry, I can’t answer that question to either confirm or deny any role,” I said.

Fletcher spoke up now. “You recall I mentioned a missing student from Cedarwood High? She was among the students who were freed, and her parents want very much to meet you and thank you two. And I’ve also gotten a call from the U.S. Education Department. They want to interview you about your Program experience and observe the Program as we have modified it at our school. It seems that they will be assuming the management of the Program under an entirely different set of rules, and they want to use what we’re doing here as their model.”

Agent Witts continued. “No doubt you’re wondering why a bunch of law enforcement jocks would be sent to see you. The powers that be debated who should be sent; they ultimately decided that if a civilian came, your past experience with government civilians would make you so suspicious, possibly even antagonistic, that would get us off on the wrong foot. So we were sent since we could prove our identity; you’ve also showed trust in law enforcement officials.”

I nodded, “Ok, but why the visit?”

“The president would very much like to meet you, both of you,” Agent Witts said. Denise gasped. “He’s had reports not only about your helping to crack the kidnapping ring, but of your courage and resourcefulness in dealing with your experience in the Program. He also thinks that the way that the two of you seem to have rescued the Program at your school can help the country rescue itself from the blow to confidence in the government that was inflicted by this episode.”

After they left, Fletcher convinced me to bite the bullet and acknowledge publicly that I had been responsible for realizing that the forum posts that mentioned students who had disappeared meant that a kidnapping plot existed, and Denise insisted that she had little to nothing to do with that insight; that I should stop trying to share the credit for my insight. I reluctantly agreed to schedule a trip to Washington in a few weeks; there was a long weekend coming up in October and the plans were made.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of activity. I had to meet with the press. I wanted to do this in a controlled environment, so the school arranged for a group interview to be conducted at a Friday school assembly with a selected group of media representatives and the event was televised. I was able to beg off going on any national talk shows; their offers of large amounts of cash to appear interested me not at all.

Even though the media’s questions sought to lionize me for my martial arts skills and courage, I was able to play those down by claiming that I had been incredibly lucky. When the interviewers realized that they wouldn’t be able to draw me out into giving any details about the things I had done, I guess I was no longer an interesting interview subject. Oh, yes; they wanted to interview Denise too, and wanted us to appear for the interviews naked or else in our kimonos. Denise declined being interviewed and we politely and very firmly refused the nudity or wearing the kimonos, but photographers were hanging around the school so much that all naked activities were quickly moved indoors and media requests to come into the school were declined.

Denise and I continued to mentor each new Program group and two more peer Counselors were chosen; actually they were Wendy Burrows and Mitchell Jones from our first peer group. They turned out to be incredibly empathic and supportive of the new Program students and Denise and I became fast friends with them.

And for the rest of our junior year, the Program prospered at our school. Kids were actually trying to find ways to become more noticeable to teachers in the hope that they would get chosen; of course the selection process was supposed to be random, but that didn’t keep students from trying anyway. After only two months of the new Program’s operation, the need for the Guardian corps gradually faded but it was replaced by a combination of guardians and the impromptu “honor guards”; students taking care of each other and offering emotional support to the shyest of the Program participants.