Chapter 11: Southern Tradition

Saturday afternoon

ED LOOKED AROUND THE ROOM. Five guys, all white, not surprising since they all hated everyone who wasn’t white. They were all men he’d decided he could trust. Except perhaps for Jones. He’d joined them with a recommendation from the Sons of Liberty down in Florida, but there was something about him Ed didn’t like.

Ed smiled to himself as he thought about the reaction of the city’s Department of Parks and Recreation if they knew what the Southern Tradition boys were using the schoolroom for. “Fostering community” was the bullshit slogan for the city’s program to give community groups the use of classrooms not needed for instruction.

Well, Ed mused, Southern Tradition was fostering community, in a sense. A community of real Americans, not like the current occupants of the White House. Like anyone other than a white American should live there. It was a crime to watch that man and his family act as though they had a right to be in that building.

Getting to that imposter in the White House was impossible, Ed knew that, unless someone wanted to try a suicide mission, but suicide missions were for fucking ragheads, not real Americans. Or maybe not, given the right circumstances. The daughters, however, there were some possibilities there. Vladimir was right, they could be a distraction. Maybe just enough, and it might be worth a sacrifice, anyway.

“Report, Jones.”

Jones stood up.

“Goddam n...”

Ed interrupted.

“Fuck that shit, Jones. We know what they are. No need to repeat. Tell us about the flag.”

“I was there for two hours. It was awesome. The guards were there but they couldn’t do shit about me, you know?”

Jones took a long swig of his beer, swallowed, and slammed the can down.

“Fuck ‘em all. Fuck ‘em.”

Ed stood up.

“OK, Jones. We get the picture. Good job. Put the flag away.”

Ed turned to the others.

“Jeff, what did you guys find out about the girl?”

“We saw her Friday morning but we couldn’t do it. She was with that girl detective, you know the one. She was checking out the high school kid earlier, and she and her partner were in the house when CJ and Randy got there that night.”

Jeff paused. CJ and Randy were good guys. It was bad luck the cops were there when they got to the house to clean up. Nothing on them to identify them or connect them to Southern Tradition, thank god.

“Nothing special. It was just bad luck, you know what I mean?”

Ed stood up. Too bad Jeff couldn’t have finished the job Friday morning.

“We do, Jeff. We all do.”

Ed stopped Miles as the meeting was breaking up. They waited until the last one had left.

“Miles, I’m not sure about Jones.”

Miles shrugged.

“What about him?”

“You think he’s OK? Will he do as he’s told?”

Miles shrugged again.

“See what you can find out, Miles, OK? And fast. Tomorrow’s the big one.”

“Sure.”

As he sat alone in the classroom, Ed thought about Vladimir. He’d given them an assignment, didn’t tell them why and Ed knew enough not to ask questions, but they hadn’t done as well as they should have. Even if it had something to do with the kid’s father and his business, given tomorrow’s assignment the father was only a part of the whole thing and Vladimir was not a guy you asked to explain.