Chapter 2: Reality

Anderson stood in front of the women while his words sank in. He expected many, if not most, of them to feel sick to their stomachs about now, and he wasn’t disappointed by the reactions he saw on their faces. He smiled inside when one of the black women said, “Where’s the bathroom? I don’t feel so good.”

“Ladies, you’re outside. If you feel the need to puke, there’s plenty of good, clean dirt all around you. Go ahead, be my guest,” he said, motioning with his free hand.

Two of them did, which he found amusing. That set off half a dozen others. Some of the women near those vomiting looked like they were going to help the others, but a look at Anderson’s face stopped all movement. One of the women, slightly braver than the others, spoke up.

“I don’t need to puke, but I do need to actually use the bathroom. Can I do that?”

“Corporal Green, please escort this ‘guest’ to our spacious, luxurious, and climate controlled latrine facilities that we spared no expense in preparing for them!”

That made several of the women perk up when they heard that, with three others saying they need to go, too.

“Now, now, ladies, one at a time. Corporal Green is only one man, after all.”

Green stepped through the women, avoiding where one was laying on her side and moaning from having vomited. He got to the woman that had asked about the bathroom. “Stand up. Let’s go.”

The black woman struggled to her feet, as she was at least thirty pounds overweight and didn’t appear to have believed in exercise. Green took hold of her upper arm. She shook it off. “I can walk!”

He stepped back, pulling his riot control baton from his waist at the same time. This was a twenty-four inch long, twenty-four ounce aluminum baton with a rigid, five and a half inch long side handle. It wasn’t like the regular riot control baton he’d worn during his ten years with the Payne County Sheriff’s Department, and he’d had to retrain with this new one to be able to do what he needed to do next. Holding it by the side handle, he quickly moved forward with his forearm, smashing into her shoulder with the baton. That not only allowed him to get his full upper arm strength into the blow, but also put his weight behind it, driving down as she was easily five inches shorter than he was.

The black woman immediately crumpled to the ground, screaming in pain.

Three other black women started to jump to their feet, whether to help the woman or attack Green, wasn’t immediately evident. They didn’t get all the way up. This was one of the scenarios that Anderson had discussed with the men for their first day. One of the men had walked up behind each main group of women while they were listening to Anderson, with a shotgun ready. As soon as the black women started to move, all five men fired their twelve gauge shotguns into the air at the same time, aimed over the women’s heads.

That froze all of the women in place, which allowed three more men to run through the aisles and immediately taze the three women that had moved.

“Corporal Green, that woman will not be using our facilities at this time,” Anderson said through the megaphone. “Second group, fourth woman, brown hair in the yellow shirt. She was the next one I saw who needed to use the bathroom.”

Green stepped back from where he was towering over the black woman, moaning in pain from her injury. He then smartly holstered his baton, pivoted, and marched to where the brunette was sitting. “Stand up, let’s go.”

Her eyes were wide with fright, but she stood up. When Green took hold of her upper arm, she quivered, but didn’t do anything else, simply allowing him to lead her through the groups. He escorted her from the scrub grass to an area with landscape timbers around it, about twenty feet by twenty feet. There were two wooden posts raising up from the sandy floor. Green stopped, let go of her hand, and motioned.

She looked around, confused. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“You’re standing in it. If you need to piss, just crouch down like you’re hovering over a toilet and let fly. If you need to shit and you can’t do it while you’re crouching down, there’re two posts buried deep enough in the ground you can lean back against. You can use your underwear to wipe with for now.”

Before any of the women could react, they could all hear the guards behind them rack their shotguns and load another round.

“The first round was free,” Anderson said, using the megaphone. “The rest won’t be, and I guarantee you that my men are a hell of a lot better shots than you think. I don’t think I can make this any plainer to you than this. This is not a jail. This is a holding facility for enemies of the Constitution of the United States. You do not have civil rights while you are here. You are not entitled to a single ... solitary ... damn thing. My men and I are not answerable to you. You are dangerous so far as we’re concerned.”

He then smiled. “Right about now you’re wondering how much of what I’ve said to you is a lie, because in your minds, I’ve already lied to you about the bathrooms.”

From the way half the women jerked, he could tell that was exactly what they thought.

“Sergeant Jackson!”

“Sir!”

“Compared to what you had to use while on patrols in Afghanistan, defending our nation and our beloved Constitution, how would you describe the latrine facility we have provided for our ‘guests’?”

“First class, Sir!”

“Sergeant, I can see that from their expressions that some of them don’t believe you. Would you care to describe what you had?”

“Sir, of course, Sir!” He turned and faced the women. “Listen up! The Captain did not lie at all to you. Our facilities here are quite spacious! No one said a latrine had to have walls, after all. When I was on patrol, if I had to piss or shit, I had to make sure I told two of my fellow soldiers, so they could watch my back, because my hands would otherwise be engaged in case someone decided to shoot me! That would happen about a third of the time, so having plenty of room to piss or shit is great! Our facilities here are luxurious! You have sand to help contain things, and to cover them up. While we were engaged in firefights with armed enemies of this nation, and you had to piss or shit, you either did it in your foxhole or whatever you happened to be crouched behind, and hoped your dick or ass wouldn’t get shot off! If it was in your foxhole, you might have to stand or sit in it for hours or even days. You also have poles to lean against to shit! When you’re patrolling in the desert and you have to shit, you’d find a buddy that also had to shit, and you’d crouch down, leaning back to back, so you could cover for each other. And this is definitely climate controlled. Whatever the climate is, that’s what you get to enjoy. Certainly not the typical hundred thirty in the day, forty at night that I had the privilege of enjoying while patrolling to help make sure that our enemies overseas didn’t end up here! And of course, you had nothing vaguely resembling privacy over there while on patrol. You didn’t want it, because you were just liable to get a second smile if you did.” He made a throat cutting gesture with his hand.

Anderson had slightly turned his head, so he could watch the woman in the sand pit. When Jackson was about halfway through his talk, she’d finally realized that not only were they serious, but Green wasn’t going anywhere. She pulled her jeans down and carefully spread her legs, squatting and leaning forward slightly so she could pee straight down into the sand with minimal splashing. When she was done, Green murmured something to her, and she kicked some sand over where she’d peed. He nodded, giving her a half smile of approval, then took hold of her upper arm, escorting her back to her position in the group. They reached her spot just as Jackson finished.

“Thank you, Sergeant Jackson. Now then, here’s what’s going to happen. Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once! Sergeant Jackson is going to monitor you, while Corporal Green escorts you, one at a time, to use the restroom, for those of you who still need to go. In the meantime, I am going to go into what we are using as our office area. Courtesy of my sins prior to volunteering to help during this conflict, I happen to be damned good with computers. Much better than everyone else under my command, unfortunately. So, I personally will be doing your processing. The less grief you cause, the sooner you’ll be done, and the sooner you’ll be able to get some food and drink. Note that I said you, not us.”

He smiled, pointing at a sharp dressed woman. “You look like you were going to object. I’m guessing you were an attorney of some kind. I know I have seven of them in this group. You get a bonus point, as it were, for not actually opening your mouth. Miranda rights do not apply. Geneva Convention rules do not apply. You’re trying to figure out what kind of paperwork I’m going to have to file because four of you have been tazed so far, and my men have fired live shotgun rounds over your heads. It’s quite simple. None. Zero, zilch, nada. While I’d much prefer to not do it, I could order my men to shoot all of you dead right now. Not only would they do it, but they wouldn’t even get in trouble for doing so. I see a couple of you are thinking, well, how does that make us different from the SS guards at Nazi death camps. Simple. I actually want to be able to release all of you when hostilities are over. But this is not a summer camp, a luxury hotel, or a spa for your relaxation. You are our enemies. We don’t like you. We sure as hell don’t have to coddle you. And we won’t.”

He paused for a moment, watching Green continue to escort women. “Now then, before I was distracted, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going into the office. Corporal Lincoln is going to escort you, one at a time, to the office door. He will then hand you two plastic bags. One will suspiciously look like the kind of bag they give you when you are admitted to a hospital, for your personal clothing. The other will be a smaller, clear plastic bag that will look suspiciously like a two quart freezer bag. You will knock once on the office door, waiting for permission to enter. When it is given, you will enter. You all have wristbands that have your personal information on them. There will be a scanner on your left. You will place your wrist under the scanner so it can read your wristband. When that is successful, it will beep and two tags will print out. You will take those two tags, and place one of them on the large bag and one on the small bag.