Chapter 3: Casualties

The next woman in was one of the ones Anderson mentally termed as a mouse.

She stuck her arm under the scanner, then took the tags after it’d beeped. She then raised her eyes, looking fearfully around the room.

Not unkindly, Connors said, “Over here, Squeak. Bags on the table, everything into the bags.”

The middle-aged woman looked afraid. “I know what we were told outside, but...”

“All your clothes in the white bag. All jewelry and everything else in the other.”

Rather tentatively, she slowly pulled her blouse off, putting it in the bag. When nothing happened or was said, she pulled her shoes off, then her socks, and put them in as well. Connors simply stood there, like he was bored with things, so she then pulled her slacks down, standing in her plain white bra and panties. The stretch marks on her abdomen were clearly visible. Now shaking, she reached behind herself, undoing her bra. While still trying to cover herself, she slowly took her panties down, finally putting everything into the bag. Only then did she remember to put her name tag on it.

She put her tag on the other bag, reaching up first with one hand, then the other, to take her earrings out. Her other hand was trying to cover her modestly. Connors cleared his throat and nodded at her hand, where she was still wearing a ring. Hands shaking, she also pulled it off and put in into the bag.

“Thank you. Please proceed to the Captain.”

She carefully walked over, still trying to cover herself as best she could.

Anderson said, “Turn around, spread your legs just slightly more than shoulder width, bend over like you’re trying to grab your ankles, except you’re pulling your butt cheeks apart. This is the cavity check. I’m simply making sure that you’re not like the last woman, and trying to smuggle in contraband in either of your holes.”

Trembling, she did so. Anderson glanced in the tight asshole that revealed nothing hidden, then said, “I’m sliding a camera inside your vagina.” He slid the borescope in, seeing nothing. Once he pulled it out, he sat it and the flashlight on his desk, then sat down himself. “Turn around and sit down.”

“Okay, according to this, you are Vivienne Blankenship, forty-one years old, married to Harold. You have two sons, age twenty and eighteen, both of whom still live at home. Your voting record has been consistently Democrat, which in and of itself is not what got you here. Your decision to be a poll watcher in the recent national election and then tell your family that you saw cheating at the polls and did nothing about it, is. You look confused, Vivienne. Why is that?”

“Uh, yes, I was a poll watcher, but ... that was a private conversation over dinner.” Her voice showed she was completely confused.

“Ah, I understand your confusion now. You thought you could trust your family to keep dinner table conversation quiet. No doubt your husband didn’t say anything, except to brag to his co-workers at the auto body shop. However, their Mother ‘sticking it to the asshole’ by allowing cheating to occur, as your youngest phrased it on social media, isn’t keeping things quiet. He was rather proud of you, because you’d always been such a mild and meek woman.”

“I ... I don’t know why, it just...”

Anderson interrupted her. “I don’t give a shit about explanations. None of us do. You’re an adult, you did it, now own it. It’s called accepting responsibility for your own actions. Something that I doubt very seriously has ever occurred to you. Now, I’m going to give you a few words of advice. Don’t make waves, don’t piss me or any of my men off, and you should make it out of here relatively unscathed, other than some rather obvious embarrassment and slight degradation. Neither of which have to be fatal. Now, get your ass up out of my chair, go tell Sergeant Hawk ‘Tango Sierra’ and barracks one.”

Tears flowing down her cheeks, Blankenship stood and walked over to the table. “Sir, I’m supposed to tell you ‘Tango Sierra’ and barracks one.

Hawk slapped a shirt and pants on the table, then said, “Take those. Corporal Davis will run your ass over to barracks one. I didn’t say put them on! Grab them and go, go, go!”

She fled to the door, where Davis was waiting. As she walked to him, he said, “He said run to barracks one! That means now, on the double!” He gave her a slight smack on the ass with his baton. He’d pulled it at the last second, so it made more noise than anything else, but the sting was enough to cause her to stumble. “Let’s go, meat! Move it. I ain’t got all day!” The door shut behind them as they left.

“I said squeak for a reason,” Connors said. There’d been a knock on the door, but they weren’t done with Blankenship yet, so they’d ignored it. Once he’d made his remark, he yelled out, “Next!”

Processing the next ten women went relatively easily. Four of them had body piercings that needed to be removed, but they were relatively cooperative. The human animal wears clothing for many reasons. The most important one is for protection from the environment, which helps allow for survival in climates that aren’t conducive to living without them. That’s one reason many jungle tribes don’t wear clothing – they don’t need them. They wear minimal protection to keep vital bits from being damaged, but they have no other body modesty. Anderson knew that stripping the women nude was literally stripping their attachment to society, their self-esteem, and their modesty. In addition, he and his men all had uniforms that served to both identify them and that fit them. The group identity of the women provided by uniforms that didn’t fit properly would further psychologically downgrade them in their own minds.

As the twelfth woman left the back of their room, they heard from the speaker by the front door the same thing they’d heard a dozen times already. This time the response was different.

“Fuck you! I’m a goddamned United States Congresswoman, and I demand to see your commanding officer! This is a complete outrage!”

There was the sound of a baton hitting flesh, followed by a woman’s cry of pain.

“You will knock once on the office door, and wait for permission to enter. You will address the Commanding Officer as Sir. You will not speak to anyone unless spoken to first. Do you understand what you’re to do when you get inside?”

Even though she was sobbing, the woman was still defiant. “I want the police here! No, get me the Speaker of the House on the phone! This is completely criminal!” The sound of electric snaps as a taser was applied to flesh was followed by another scream and curses.

There were two hard raps on the door. “Sir! Corporal Lincoln with a non-compliant!”

Anderson sighed, then stood up. “I don’t want to know what this pool number is.”

Connors said, “Sir, for what it’s worth, none of us actually expected to need this step in processing. We didn’t even include it in the pool.”

Anderson nodded, saying, “Thank you for that.” He sighed, then made sure his uniform was straight. He stepped to the door and opened it from inside.

Corporal Lincoln was standing with his taser deployed, the prongs touching the neck of the woman sprawled on the steps. When the door opened, he pulled the taser back, replacing it on his belt. Coming to attention, he said, “Sir! Corporal Lincoln with a non-compliant! She refused to obey basic instructions more than once!”

From her appearance, the woman was in her early fifties. She was wearing a power suit, a red pantsuit with matching jacket, and a white blouse. Her black low heels had at one time been highly polished, but they showed she’d not had a chance to clean them for a while. Her hair was no longer perfectly coiffed, but now a bit loose, and her makeup and mascara had run down her cheeks. But her eyes were flashing with fire now.

“You’re the one in charge of this abomination? I’m Congresswoman Leslee Davis! I demand...” She didn’t get to say anything else, as Anderson had pulled his baton and then swung his arm underhand, catching her just under the chin with it. Her mouth slammed shut, her teeth slamming together making a noise almost like a shot fired. Her head snapped back, body following, as she fell from the steps.

Anderson pointed to the first two women he saw. “You two! Get up here now!”

The two women scurried forward. From their hair and skin tone, Anderson guessed them to both be of Hispanic origin.

“Do either of you personally know this woman?”

Their answer confirmed his guess, as they both had faint accents as they denied knowing the Congresswoman.

“Very good. Corporal Lincoln will now give the two of you the bags that this woman was to have used. You will quickly strip her completely naked. All of her clothing will go in the large bag, all of her jewelry in the small bag. Do not be concerned if you get blood stains on her clothing, and do not attempt to provide any medical care.”

“Si, Señor!”

In less than a minute, the two women working together had Davis nearly nude. They were a little squeamish about pulling her pantyhose and panties down, but one quick look at Anderson took care of that.

“Señor, I cannot get this ring off her finger!”

“Hold her hand up.” The Hispanic women picked the left hand of the Congresswoman, who was starting to regain consciousness, shaking her head a little. Anderson pulled the snips out, adjusted them slightly, then simply cut the woman’s finger off, just behind the ring. The sudden shock and pain woke her up, screaming in agony.

Anderson casually pulled the ring off the finger, handing it to the Hispanic woman. “Please put this into the bag.”

Terrified, she did so.

By this time, Davis had woken the rest of the way up, and was now clutching her left hand with her right. Her words were slightly mumbled, as she was trying to talk with a broken jaw. They were still understandable, though.