Chapter 1: Arrival

“Jackson! What time are our guests supposed to arrive?”

“Between zero eight fifteen and zero eight forty-five, Sir.”

“Like that’s going to happen.”

“Sir, all I can do is pass on what the higher ups tell me.”

Sighing, the tall, brown-haired, slightly overweight man wearing glasses and sitting on a chair under a Pop-Up tent nodded. “I know, Top. It’s just this isn’t what I signed up for.”

The sandy-haired man standing at parade rest next to the first man replied, “Me, neither, Sir. But with us doing this, we’re freeing up able bodied people. I had ten years in, with two tours in the sandbox, and then another twenty with ODOC, before I retired from that.”

“Then what the hell am I doing running this shit show? You’ve got more time in, plus a lot more experience than I do.”

Jackson smiled, breaking position and looking at the man in the chair. “Three things, Sir. First is that I’m one hell of an NCO. I think you already know that. Second is that I’m Army smart, but I’m not people smart, if that makes sense. My ... temperament ... for dealing with our – I do like that term ‘guests’ – is at a much lower tolerance level than yours. I’ve got the experience, but not your education, too. And third, I left most of my left leg in the desert twenty-two years ago. That’s one reason I stand so much. I can lay down, or stand, but actually doing all the sitting behind a desk that you have to do for all the paperwork and shit hurts too damned much.”

“I’ve got this armchair spread because it seems like I spent too much time the last fifteen years sitting behind a desk. Ah, what have we here?”

A man carrying an AR-15 slung over his shoulder walked up, stopped, then saluted. After it was returned, he said, “Captain Anderson, First Sergeant, Tower One sent word that they can see six vehicles that turned off the main road and are heading our way. It looks like our prisoners are almost here.”

“Guests, Corporal Wiley, guests. At least until proven otherwise,” Anderson replied. “I admit that I doubt it’s going to take that long before at least some of them have a change in status, but we have to assume the first ... for now.”

“Yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir.”

“Return to your post, Corporal.”

Wiley saluted and after it was returned, did as good of an about face as possible and hobbled back to the main gate.

“Jackson.”

“Sir?”

“I think you’ll see demonstrated in just a little bit that I have about the same amount of tolerance for bullshit that you do. It’s just that I can express it in different ways, as you said, courtesy of my own education and experience, than you do. I’ve read all of the files on the men, including yours. Twenty years with ODOC, with ten at Bassett and two charges against you. Five at Big Mack, with three charges against you, and five at North Fork, with no actual charges against you, but four notices in your file. You’re an angry man, Sergeant Jackson, because you did leave most of your left leg in the desert and you’ve been seeking revenge.”

“Um, Sir...”

“Oh, I’m not saying anything against that, Sergeant. Not in the least. But that’s why you’re here with me now, instead of at one of our other facilities. This should be less stressful on you. I’m quite certain some of our ‘guests’ are going to require additional ‘handling.’”

While Anderson had been talking, the line of vehicles had stopped just outside the gate, while their identity was confirmed. The two men watched in silence as the gates opened, then the vehicles pulled it. The first one in line, an Oklahoma Army National Guard Humvee, pulled over to where Anderson was sitting. The next three were all modified school buses that pulled into position while their doors remained closed. The last two were also Humvees that simply stopped just inside the gate.

Anderson stood up as the front door on the OKARNG Humvee opened. The officer that exited the vehicle was dressed in combat utilities, in contrast to the tan shirt and pants that Anderson and Jackson wore. The officer approached Anderson, then stopped and saluted.

After it was returned, he said, “Lieutenant Barker, Sir, with three buses of detainees, to be transferred to your custody and keeping for the duration, as per my orders.” He’d handed a notebook in his left hand over to Anderson.

Anderson picked up an iPad that had been sitting on a table next to his chair. He pulled up a screen on it and quickly compared the information on it to the tags that were in the notebook. After a couple of minutes, he nodded, then placed both on the table. “Very good, Lieutenant. I presume they all have bands with their information as of now on their wrists?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Very well. First Sergeant, get those buses unloaded and our guests over to the receiving area, so the Lieutenant can get back to fighting the war.”

Jackson replied, “Sir!” then headed for the buses. “First and Second Squads! Let’s get them unloaded and over to receiving! Move it, on the double!”

“Lieutenant, this’ll take about ten minutes or so. Do you or your men need to use our latrine facilities or need to refill on water?”

“Thank you, Sir, but we’re good. We took over escort duties at the state border, so we’ve only been on the road for two hours. Sir?”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Thank you, Sir, for doing this job. You’ve got a light company here, and that frees up the same number of able bodied men for the fighting. I know this isn’t what any of you volunteered for, and just to let you know in case you don’t; to a man, all of us appreciate that you were willing to take up arms to support us.”

“Did your CO tell you to say that?”

“No, Sir. You’re all vets. You’ve already served. You could’ve sat this one out, and no one would either be wiser, or think anything of it. But ... hell, my father is helping run one of the men’s facilities, for the same reason you’re here. Granted, they have more men in their unit than you do, but you’re only projected to have a total of what, two hundred total when you’re full?”

“Yeah. Which means we’ll probably end up with three hundred, but that’s SNAFU.”

Barker laughed. “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up. How long’s it been for you?”

“Nearly forty years since I raised my hand. Pesky thing, that oath and honoring it.”

“I’ve been in for four, since I graduated college. I ... well, yeah, I get it. Couple of my guys have ten plus years in, with some time in the sandbox. As I said, we appreciate it.”

“Looks like your buses are empty, Lieutenant. Carry on.” They exchanged salutes, Barker returned to his Humvee, and the vehicles left the compound. Anderson picked up both the notebook and his iPad and walked over to the receiving area. All that consisted of was a hard packed area with some scrub grass large enough for all of their detainees to fit. They were lined up in little groups with room to walk between them, four groups of five wide and five deep.

The women that had gotten off the buses appeared to be of all races, although there were more dark skinned than light easily visible. They were also of a variety of sizes, some tall and thin, some short and fat, and pretty much everything in between, and dressed in a variety of clothing. There was a small table in front of them. Anderson picked up the electronic megaphone that was on the table.

“Listen up! Quiet down, please, quiet down. Thank you. Everyone take a seat, please.”

From the crowd of women, one of them yelled back, “Where? Don’t see no chairs!”

“God gave you two cushions to sit on. Park your butts on the ground. The sooner you all sit down, the sooner I can get through today’s agenda.”

Grumbling, most of the women started sitting down. A couple of them needed help to actually make it down. While the vast majority of them sat down, there were four of them still standing. One was a black woman wearing a very short dress. Another was a middle aged white woman wearing a regular top and skirt. The other two women were lighter skinned, but with African-American features. One was wearing obviously expensive trouser cut pants, the other in expensive looking jeans.

Anderson sighed. This was less than he’d feared, anyway. Placing the megaphone back down, he looked at the four women. He figured the proud woman in the expensive trousers would be his choice. He walked through the ranks of woman sitting on the ground over to her. Anderson wasn’t wearing a rifle, he simply had a pistol in a holster at his hip. He looked the woman in the eye when he got to her. “I’m going to ask you politely, one more time, to sit on the ground.”

“I’m not ruining my...” was the only thing the woman got out of her mouth before the electric sound of the taser in Anderson’s hand as it was pushed against her side cut through the air. Her silk shirt didn’t provide any protection, so she dropped to the ground. He followed her down, and held it against her for another ten seconds, then straightened back up.

Two women nearby started to reach for the woman twitching and crying in pain. “Stop where you are! She brought it upon herself by disobeying my lawful command. Now, would you three also like to experience what it’s like to have half a million volts at a low amperage running through your body, or will you sit down?”

That worked. Anderson slowly worked his way back to the front, then slid the taser back into the belt pouch behind his back. Picking up the loudspeaker again, he said, “Thank you for your cooperation.”

He’d timed it right so that the woman he’d tasered was just shaking her head and sitting up, groaning in pain. He took a moment to scan all of their faces. Some of them looked afraid. Most of them had a combination of looks on their faces, between anger and fear. A few were simply furious, and it showed on their faces. He’d expected all of those reactions. Two of them had expressions of hope on their faces, which wasn’t something he’d expected to see. He’d remember those two, and interview them first.