Chapter 1

"Excuse me miss, do you have change for a quarter?" the middle aged mildly overweight man with the beard asked.

"Is it for the parking meter?" I asked.

"Hello you must be Jo?" he asked changing his tone.

"Yes and who are you?" I asked.

"William, so Jo do you have a package for me?" William asked.

"Not here, I will leave it for you after 8AM at the number 3 drop site," I said.

"Good, there will be a pickup for you as well," he said. He turned and was quickly gone. Such was the conversations between terrorists. At least between terrorists, who lived more than a couple of weeks. I was operating as a cut out and as a sometimes foot soldier in the revolution. Well I did that when I wasn't working for the government we were trying to bring down. A lot of us, so called, domestic terrorists worked for the government. They were always having investigations to round us up.

I for one saw it as a government gone crazy. While I spent a year in Iran, dissidents started to disappear or go to jail. It became illegal to criticize the government in public or in the media. Lots of reporters were jailed, but a lot more went along, since it was the government they wanted all along. Most of the things this new government did would have been considered unconstitutional in my youth.

The president got around it by suspending the constitution in favor of martial law. It wasn't as hard as I would have thought to change the government from a democracy to a socialist nation run by a party of elitist. When I got home, I didn't know what to do. I wandered around lost for a while.

I knew that I had come home to a different country than the one I had left. I was home less than a week when the call from the new employment administration came.

"Jo Anne Adams?" the male voice asked.

"Yes that's me," I said.

"Ms Adams a position with the local emergency medical service has been arranged for you. If you wish to accept this position you will need to report to the center at 7AM Monday morning," the voice continued. Since I had been a combat medic in Iran, I supposed that it made sense. I could walk right into the job here at home.

I already knew that it was take their job, or try to find something else in a country where the government made most of the decisions for its people. I called around and found that the best advice came from my dad. Take the job and keep your mouth shut was his advice. So that's what I tried to do.

If one read between the lines, and everyone read between the lines in those days, it was easy to see that there was a rebel organization out there. I mean lots of things that were going on were just plain wrong. People tended to disappear right after they tried to criticize the system. Freedom of speech had been suspended until the revolution was secure. No one had any idea when that would be.

Three years on the job almost to the day, I went on a call to a man who had what I recognized immediately as a gunshot wound. "This is not too bad, but you need to go to the hospital. All kinds of nasty things can happen from a GSW," I informed him.

"Nothing as bad as what will happen, if I go to the hospital. I will just disappear. I was in that demonstration tonight," he said.

"If I help you, and you get caught, I'm in the same shit as you are," I said.

"I know but you know what is going on is wrong. Sometimes you have to do the right thing, just because it is the right thing," he said.

I nodded, "Get to the dollar store and buy some bandages and lots of triple antibiotic creme. Pack the wound with it and keep it clean. Do not drink alcohol to kill the pain, Take three aspirin, then two hours later take three Tylenol. After two more hours start over again but cut back to normal doses as soon as you can, that shit is hard on your liver and kidneys."

"Thanks Jo," he said pointing to my name tag.

"It's Jo Anne, and if I have to do it, I'll sell your ass out in a minute," I said.

"No you won't Jo. You might not know it yet, but you are one of us," he said smiling.

"Call in again, if it you get feverish," I said.

"If I do, I'll go somewhere else to call. I can try to keep you out of it," he promised.

"Fair enough," I said to him.

Of course, a week later, I got a call from a woman who said her name was Lois. She told me she knew about the GSW and said we needed to talk. What she actually did was recruit me. Lois was a reasonably attractive woman, but she was also hard as nails.

"So Jo here is the deal. Never talk to anyone on the phone period. If you get a phone call from someone who says they are with the movement, run. Do not pack a bag or take your cell phone, just run like hell."