Chapter 212

“The difference between a rebel and a patriot depends upon who is in power at the moment.”
—Sidney Sheldon, The Sands of Time

“ARE YOU GOING TO ARREST ME?” I asked.

“No. Not now. I’ll have to be with the team,” she said.

“When?”

“I don’t know for sure. We are supposed to be at our camp ready for deployment at midnight tonight. That doesn’t mean that’s when our orders will come. If our stupid commander acts with as much decision as he did in Florida, we could be sitting here this time next week.”

“The boss?”

“No. He deployed us to Galveston and was gone when we returned. The new guy is former Coast Guard and doesn’t like the idea that we might get to an emergency before the professionals.”

“Why are you telling me all this, Dana? You tried to set me up.”

“I did not!” the surprise in her voice led me to believe she had no idea what had been planned. Or she was just that good an actress. I’d certainly fallen for her.

“You were either complicit or you’re as much a dupe in this whole thing as I was.”

“You were my buddy. We promised we’d have each other’s back. You deserted. I didn’t.”

“I really want to believe all that, Dana, but we’ll have to see how this all pans out. I told you from the beginning I wasn’t supposed to be there. You all were in on it in one way or another.”

“Whatever you think, we were a good team. The rest of us still are. Get your things together and organized, Jake. I have no idea what National Service prison looks like.” She spun on her heel and walked away toward the road. While I watched, she broke into an easy run. She could eat up twenty miles in three hours at that pace. The team could be located anyplace. I went back to the motorhome.

“We have a guy following her,” Lamar said.

“She’ll lose them,” I responded. “We just need to be ready.”

“Ron says to sit tight. We have additional security on the way,” Rachel said.

“You’ve already been on the phone with him?”

“He listened in to your conversation. I’m sure I heard Will swearing in the background. It wouldn’t surprise me if the President knows by now.”

“So, what do we do next?” I asked everyone in general.

“Sit tight,” Amanda responded. We all looked at the pile of shit and laughed.

Nothing happened. We even went for our run Tuesday morning. It looked like a parade. We kept the pace moderate, but in addition to Emily, Livy, Nanette, Lamar, Leah, and me, there were four other security people running beside us. Overkill as far as I was concerned. The SSR were strong and determined, but in my experience, they weren’t violent. And if they’d been sworn into security, they were on the same footing as our guards.

Wednesday morning that all changed. At six in the morning, when we were preparing for our run, there was a knock on our door. I opened it a crack and Lamar said, “They’re here.” They didn’t seem to be overly eager, so I finished dressing and had a protein drink Nanette prepared for me. When everyone was decent, I opened the door and stepped out.

Fifteen feet in front of me, my former team stood ranged in a line. They all wore their red and yellow backpacks. It almost made me want to grab mine. In front of them stood no less than Major General Gerhardt. At the foot of the steps of the motorhome, my eight security people were in a line, blocking access to the motorhome. It was ludicrous and I started to laugh.

“Jacob Hopkins,” the general barked. I looked up at him. “You are hereby under arrest for desertion and avoidance of service. Please come down here and accompany this team to detention.” Well, he was being polite for all that he was a polite asshole.

“Belay that order,” another voice barked. Off to my left, Ron Starling was approaching, flanked by two men in battle dress with “MP” emblazoned on their sleeves. “General, you are exceeding your authority. I have President di Marco on the phone waiting to accept your verbal resignation. Alternatively, if you prefer, I have here papers for your dismissal.”

“That bitch has no authority here. She can go to hell,” Gerhardt said. “Whoever you are, step aside so we can effect this arrest.”

“National Service Security has no authority to arrest. They can only detain until local police have arrived. I assume you have notified local authorities they are needed?” Ron said.

“We don’t need local police. This team has been deputized,” the general said. I noticed my teammates looking at each other. Word that the President was firing the general had them confused. Only Paul looked certain that he’d follow the general’s lead. Ron motioned to one of the men he brought with him.

“General Gerhardt, the Inspector General of the Army has instructed us to relieve you of duty effective immediately and to detain you for questioning at the Inspector General’s office at the Pentagon. If you will come with us, sir.”

There wasn’t much the general could do at that point. He was escorted to a waiting van while the rest of us looked on. The SSR team looked a little lost.

“You,” Ron started, approaching the team, “are a bit of a problem and a puzzle. First of all, let me tell you who I am. I’m Ron Starling, director of security for the Office of Civilian Service, currently acting as managers of the National Service. We were just informed your team was deputized into National Service Security, which puts you under my management. If that’s where you want to stay, we’ll have an interview and I’ll get you formal assignments.” The team shuffled around a bit and then Paul stepped forward.

“Thank you, sir, but we were told this was a temporary situation to have formal witnesses to this deserter’s arrest. We aren’t security people,” he said.

“I didn’t think so,” Ron said. “And this is not a deserter. One of the crimes the general is to be questioned about is forging service induction papers. The computer that assigned Jacob Hopkins service training maintains the original records. A duplicate set of records changing the destination and occupation for Jacob was generated and substituted for the official documents. Therefore, for your information, he was never part of your NSO, but returned to service in his own NSO at first opportunity. Is that clear?”

“How is that possible, sir?” Dana asked. “We all saw his papers when we rescued him in the bathroom at the induction center. He was sick and we got him straightened around.”

“Mmmhmm. First, I, like you, am a civilian. I do not answer to sir. I’m Mr. Starling or less formally, simply Ron. Second, the matter of Jacob’s rescue by you is under investigation. Security camera footage shows him being given drugs prior to your departure.”

“I gave him Zofran to combat his nausea,” Dana said.

“And Mr. Peterson, what did you give him?” Ron asked, turning to Paul. He silently stared into space.

“Paul?” Dana demanded. “Did you give Jake something before I got the Zofran in him? What did you do?”

“What I was ordered to do,” Paul said. “I found an inductee who was attempting to avoid service and gave him flunitrazepam to make him calm down and follow instructions.”

“You gave him Rohypnol? A date rape drug?” Dana yelled. Her med training had been intense.

“You bastard!” I shouted, coming down off the steps.

“It was harmless. Just assuring that you’d be calm and relaxed until we were at camp and everything was under control.”

“I think that’s enough,” Ron said, holding a hand out to keep me from attacking my former team leader.

“We want you in for a team debriefing. It can be conducted at the district service office here in Columbus. As soon as we determine your management chain and mission statement, you’ll be returned to the field to perform the tasks you were trained for: Search and rescue. You’re a good team. No matter what pretenses you were trained under, the result is something you should all be proud of. We want you as part of the National Service.”

“Can we get a new manager?” Derek asked. “That Coast Guard dude is a royal pain in the ass.” Ron grinned at him.

“We’ll get you the best management we can field. For now, let’s get settled. Marvel and Hopkins have a performance tonight and rehearsal this afternoon. I’m sure you all want to catch up, but they need to catch their bus. Rachel?”

“I’ve set aside tickets for you for stage seating. I’m assuming you all have your transportation and can get there. The tickets are at will call and you’ll be conducted to the seats on stage,” Rachel said. “Welcome to the light side of the force.”

I was still plenty pissed when we got to the theater. Not getting my run in didn’t help. God! I was addicted. Without a hard run in the morning I wasn’t worth anything. When I saw the inside of the Newport Music Hall, though, my adrenalin shot up a few degrees. The total capacity was somewhere around 5,000 people and the line of people picking up tickets at the box office was around the corner and up the street.

Unfortunately, this was a rock club and the acoustics sucked. We were going to need amplification of the caliber we used in Atlanta. We had our mics and pickups, but it seemed to take forever for Donna to get the crew to integrate everything. When it was finally set, we filled the hall with sound.