Section 32

Ms St. John had intended to hand over the ointment and help with breakfast. The sleeping mass of bruised and battered body parts convinced her to wait until the kids awakened on their own. Instead, she put on a pot of coffee and lay on an available sofa to catch some z’s herself. Her yesterday had been as long as theirs, but not as rough. A morning nap would feel good after sleeping in the Blackhawk seat.

The island clean up continued all night with the Harbor Patrol and the State Ports Authority dragging the sound for remains. Fewer than half carried ID. A person would think they weren’t proud of their affiliation with the Master Race/White Power movement. Their spiritual idols wore sheets and hoods. These guys wore black plastic body bags. Weren’t they happy to be number one?

The Acting Director of DHS came into the loop and was working with Libby, the Southern Poverty Law Center and the Hate Crimes Division of the Justice Department to identify the John Does. Face recognition and police records spit out name after name. Associates, accomplices, next of kin and latest employers went into the database.

Mel and Pierson’s crews worked miracles on the ‘Devil’s Darling’. Mel determined the engine damage to be limited to the upper housing with no performance loss at all. He and Joey worked with the Marines to patch and repaint the bullet holes in the superstructure.

The electronics and navigation suite came through in fine fashion, but Mel and Jeep replaced the mast anyway. “A little more height never hurts.” Jeep was heard to say. “In radar, size counts.”

Half the SpecFors and Singer Teams crossed the sound to round up the stragglers trapped between the water and the Sheriff’s deputies closing the vice from behind. Many were more than willing to talk once they were told that they could be wearing black plastic and everyone would think they died in the aborted invasion. No one would know how long it took them to join their cohorts, or how painful the reunion could be. Too cowardly to participate in the first wave, they sang like divas at the Met when faced with actually hardened troops. Angry troops who did not appreciate domestic terrorism aimed at teenagers.

In truth, torture was not on the table. The men and women in uniform were too honorable to lower themselves to that level. But the bad guys did not know that and expected to be treated as they themselves would have treated prisoners, with extreme prejudice. That was enough to grease jaws and loosen lips. Psychological warfare is quite effective when used by scary people with knives, guns and attitudes.

The rest of the troops snatched some sleep in the Zodiacs with weapons at hand. Before the morning, everyone got to snooze four or five hours.

Back at the cabin, the combatants were moving around by 10:00. Not fast or enthusiastic, but moving. Sherry and Belle were massaging the salve into bruises on the Ninjas and Phil. The other girls, nowhere near as discolored as the eight, were gently taking care of each other. They were in better shape only by comparison. No one would think them unscathed, most would call an ambulance, with the coroner on standby.

The bridge crew, Marcie, Karen, Polly and Traci, were battered the least, having spent most of the firefight at the helm. Not that they were bump free, they merely had fewer from the evening brouhaha. Tuesday morning had taken its toll on them all.

Those four started toward the kitchen after scraping the fur off their teeth and doing the morning bathroom routine. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Coffee Angel whoever you are.” Polly whispered, careful not make a lot of noise, not because anyone was still asleep, but because the quiet was so nice. Yesterday had been very noisy.

“Must have been Nicole. She was going to deliver the ointment last night. That’s her, crashed on the couch.” Karen pointed to the dead-to-the-world pilot. “She put in some major hours yesterday. Let her sleep. We can make breakfast as people get ambulatory.”

“I’ll go out and take orders. Traci, can you start toast? I’ll do eggs when I get back if Karen and Polly will start the bacon.” Marcie said.

“Take orders as long as they want bacon and egg sandwiches? Works for me.” Polly giggled. “Cook’s choice. I’ll make a bigger pot of coffee.”

Marcie exited to discover something akin to a Shoney’s buffet® set up on the pier. The Quinns and Candystripers had loaded steam tables and grills on Captain Jefferies’ new boat, set them up and were slinging groceries like crazy for one and all. Except the prisoners. They were lucky to be breathing. Melanie was not willing to feed them. As far as she was concerned, the Geneva Convention did not mandate omelets and waffles from her table.

Marcie returned to the house to call off activity in the kitchen. “Breakfast is served outdoors this morning, boys and girls. Get decent and follow me to the traveling feast.”

Phil pulled on some cargo shorts and a shirt and teased the others into motion. “Mom said we would rust and seize up if we didn’t move around. Can’t let that happen. Let’s show the fans that a few bullets never slowed us down.”

“They did a good job cleaning away the debris and stiffs already so the scenery is good. Not that a horror movie could spoil my appetite this morning,” a newly awake Nicole said, “but it has to smell better.”

“What she said. I wonder why most of these rejects never discovered deodorant or, now that I think of it, basic hygiene.” Belle laughed, “I gotta say, you guys lead interesting lives, Chinese proverb style, and then get breakfast delivered.”

“Stick around a while, girly. You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Emily chuckled on her way out the door.

Phil and the twenty-four hungry girls, dressed in their summer camo best, trooped down to the buffet, packing heat. The professors had loaned Belle and Nicole clean duds making the whole group look like a bunch of college girls playing fashion games. He noticed how easily Belle fit in with the other girls and figured the fix was in. If she was destined to join the family, she would join the family. Gravity working in the background once again.

Phil strongly suspected Nicole, Lisa Glane and Nick were a family unit under the House Singer umbrella. The clues were all there for an insider to see, but family details were never discussed openly, like the fact that Dennis Swenson was the father of Sally and Sara Singer, nor that Adam was gay and partnered with Ian, his executive assistant.

Given the similar military histories and talents of the three security experts, he though it a little odd that Belle had not gravitated to them. But then ‘odd’ seemed to define the times and no amount debate would change a thing. But he was not aware of any ‘special’ talents either of the three had other than being good at their profession. Perhaps they were like Ian Singer, competent, yet without that near mystic ‘lagniappe’ that made some members larger than life.

If Belle Barton was to be a Swenson, print the stationery now, add her signature to the house bank accounts. Gravity is not just a good idea. It’s the law.

The family stepped up to the food line and picked up plates. Behind them someone began to clap. Others joined and soon it was all wild cheers and raucous applause.

“Ollie, what’s going on? We did what we had to do. We should be cheering the guys who rescued us. They were in bad straits, too.” Phil said.

“Don’t even say it, Swenson. We saw the video recordings Ms St. John made and listened to the audio from before the battle.” He cut Phil off. “The SpecFors had their work to do, that’s for sure. But you guys stared the devil in the eyes and made him blink. Then sent him and his minions back to Hell.”

“The girls on the dreadnaught ‘Darling’ were awesome! Y’all pumped enough lead to sink the ‘Bismarck’. The ones on land were inspiring. That’s the bravest crazy thing ever.” Melanie gushed. “They don’t make movies that exciting. You guys were Avenging Angels and the Grim Reaper come to clean house!”

“The house was dirtier than we thought.”

“And we heard your unanimous decisions to fight to the death if it came to that. We watched the fight itself. The Valkyries laced their sandals for nothing. That was the most brutal warfare I’ve ever witnessed and I’ve been in combat against a trained and motivated enemy quite a few times. We heard the take down of the Apaches. Lanie spotted one against the star field? Amazing presence of mind! Precision timing at it’s finest. We heard Sherry and your crew bring all guns to bear on anything and everything in sight.” Nick added, “It was all recorded by the communications desk as part of the data feed to Libby McGuire. Of course that means you were the feature action film on every screen in every House, nationwide.”

“So now everyone knows how close we came to losing because we weren’t carrying enough ammo.” Phil was almost upset. “We should have planned better.”

“No one knew it was going to be a mass invasion, Phil.” Nick said, “None of us would have been ready and would have died in the sand. You kids won. You survived.”

“Great, just great.” SuLing moaned. “Now every cheap, two-bit gunslinger is going to show up in Tombstone trying to make a name for himself.”

“Mom said not to whine, sister.” April warned with a grin. “She’ll rat you out to Rose and Ken in a heartbeat. Besides, we thinned the two-bit herd yesterday. Can’t be many gunslingers left.”

“If you want me to keep Tombstone safe for wimmen and chilluns, you better feed me. Sending assholes to hell always makes me hungry.” The little ninja rejoined. “Our Moms talk too much. Your nosy Mom is the worst.”

“Worst? Hardly. That would be my Mom. She will curse you with a pox or drop a nuke on your head. Either way, your bones melt.” Zina laughed. “If she can get to you before Carmine and Rose. They can hex you six ways from breakfast.”

“All this chatter about breakfast and my plate is empty.” Willy giggled, patting her stomach. “Don’t make me get rude.”

The kids continued to keep the teasing light and funny as the plates were piled high. When Phil found a place on the pier to hang his feet and dig in, the others clumped around him, leaning on his back, each other’s back, feet in laps, generally touching someone else. Whispers, inside jokes, lots of elbows, tossed toast; tickles and horsing around completed the picture of a bunch of playful college kids having a normal Spring Break.

Rachael poked Marcie. “Tell me something, Ms Patterson.”

“Something.”

Another poke. “Good thing you’re not an Art major, wise guy. Why do you keep calling this adventure ‘Spring Break’? We just finished exams, planned Summer School and set up Band Camp. ‘Spring’?”

“Habit, and Summer Vacation sounds so much more boring. To be honest, most of us don’t even know what year we are. Forget about the seasons. With all the extra credits, quizzing out of courses, performances and substituted projects the incoming freshmen might be second semester sophomores, the sophomores might be seniors, and Phil might be in grad school.”

“That’s pushing it a little, Marcie. Karen and I are science majors. We might be able to test out of classes but all the art, music and modeling doesn’t get us any extra credit. That goes for four of the twins and Traci, too. The tests put them where the faculty decides. Who knows where Sally and Sara will be? In a semester early, practical experience, working caterers, deadly snipers and martial arts experts. Kinda puts a new spin on the hospitality industry, don’t you think?” Phil laughed. “I’ll let Chancellor Schwartzwelder and the faculty advisors figure it out. That’s why they make the big bucks.”

“Big bucks and faculty can’t be spoken in the same sentence.” Amy snarked. “Good thing we fell in with this crowd. Well, except for the getting shot at thing.”

“I think you are the people Mom told me not to hang around. She never said why but I’ll bet gunfire was not on her top ten list.” Belle interjected. “She was more concerned with compromised virtue than blunt force trauma.”

“I’m wounded to the core, Ens. Barton.” Sherry mock frowned. “Just because we attract serial killers and crazoid terrorists doesn’t mean we’re bad company.”

“Not our fault we had to waste so many bad guys. They needed killin’.” Nancy agreed. “We’re actually very neat and tidy girls. Look how we cleaned up the gene pool.”

“There’s a bad company gene?” Belle asked. “Who knew?”

“Karen, our resident DNA lecturer, knew, I’m sure.” Joanne answered. “She had to teach as a sophomore to keep her scholarship. Some work-study crap that turned out to be extortion and thievery more than income. Right, Karen?”

“Yep. I’ve found plenty in common between simple invertebrates and Neo-Nazis. Mostly, lack of a central brain and backbone.” Karen grinned, “I’ve grown smarter yeast.”

That set off another round of silliness and bad jokes among the friends. Phil silently listened to the interactions and watched the casual ease they integrated Belle into the group. Or was it how easily she meshed with the family? Whatever, she was looking like a keeper.

Dana and Emily saw him appraising Belle and pulled him aside. “We need to bring you up to date, Phil. We all think Belle is our lost sister. She graduated NC State by the time she was 17, enlisted in the Guard immediately and went to OCS. Belle might be the youngest Ensign ever. Her enlistment is up for renewal soon, but we think she should maybe apply for an ROTC position at Mid Carolina and switch to the USCG Reserves.”

“Are you girls recruiting now? Twenty-two isn’t enough?”

“The numbers don’t matter. It’s that gravity thing, Boss.” Emily insisted. “Even if she doesn’t join the family, she needs to be with us in Scarboro. Being here with no House support is dragging her spirit down. She didn’t know the reason for her melancholy until that night we rescued Little Beverly.”

“By the way, her virtue is uncompromised.” Dana whispered in his ear.

“When and if she decides to commit I’ll let her know.” Phil smiled. “Then we’ll get the paperwork sorted. Belle has to start the discharge ball rolling at Okracoke/Rodanthe to change her status to Reserve. Will a teaching post count toward her active duty requirement? Will she have an active duty requirement in the Reserve? Maybe stay active and be reassigned permanently to the White House and serve onboard the ‘USS Devil’s Darling’? That could work as a reserve officer, too. Unpredictable variables. I’m sure we know someone who knows how make it happen. We can always send a staffing request to the President.”

“The Acting Secretary at DHS might be convinced to issue a directive to the Coast Guard allowing her to separate clean at the end of her tour. It’s not like we haven’t done them favors.” Dana said. “Or he can assign her to the White House Security Staff, via the ‘USS Devil’s Darling’, fulfilling her Reserve ‘active’ component.”

“An implied rather than direct quid pro quo lets them practice wise manpower allocation and have it appear to be their idea.” Phil chuckled. “The University would gain serious credibility with a White House advisor on the ROTC faculty to go with the four in the Art Department and the eighteen in the student body.” Scarboro as a branch security think-tank sounded cool.

“We need to have a family meeting, lovers. Our obvious standing at the University has changed. As Marcie pointed out, we don’t even know what we are. Belle’s status aside, how do we interact with the school?” He shrugged in resignation; “I doubt we can blend into the background anymore. Can we still attend classes without causing disruption? Will the administration let us?”

“My biggest fear is that we will bring all the lethal attention with us to campus.” Dana confessed.

“OK. Spread the word to our sisters. We need information and opinions. We’ll start with the people here today. Talk to them. Force Recons and Seals are smart as hell, used to thinking under fire. Civil authorities bring a different, but compatible, point of view with regard to public safety. Business people like Mel, the Otways, the Quinns, Maggie and Auggie bring another set of values. Even Candy Stripers, though very young, have a sense of social responsibility. Jefferies and the other captains and veteran boatmen believe in a strict code of honor and conduct.”

Emily agreed, “We have experience dealing with adversity, more than I ever wanted. What we don’t have is the experience of years.”

That is exactly what the family did for the rest of the morning and early afternoon, gather points of view. Sometimes the questions were direct, as in “With all the publicity, do you think we can be normal college students?” Other queries were subtler, just part of a larger conversation while cleaning the boat or photographing evidence.

Christy and Betsy suggested being more proactive in the community to reduce the causes of conflict. Be ready to stand up in defense of others.

The Marines and Seals spoke of being the final tool when diplomacy failed. If you desire peace, be ready for war. An unpleasant prospect, but true. You do what you have to do. Some do it so someone else doesn’t have to. But you don’t let them make you change out of fear.

Law enforcement saw a need to balance public safety with constitutional rights. They admitted that some departments prosecuted vigilantes more vigorously than criminals and that some DAs seemed more concerned with perpetrators than victims.

The business community worried about the fallout. Conflict destroyed the commerce chain that supplied the jobs and income that fed families and paid the taxes that financed schools, fire and police departments and public works. Ollie put it simply. “Melanie and I have our pensions and enough saved to be comfortable for the rest of our lives. But our cooks, carhops and dishwashers don’t. If we close, our farmers and suppliers suffer. Layoffs happen and the strain cascades down the line.”

The common thread was ‘don’t back down, no matter what’. Live your life. But be aware that actions have consequences. Make adjustments to protect or shelter the innocent, but stay true to yourselves.

Overman and Pierson watched the informal opinion poll with Nick. “I feel like I’ve been gently interrogated. Do they think they’re being subtle?” Overman asked.

“They are not even trying.” Pierson laughed. “But it increases my respect for the whole group. I sense an attempt to get a bigger picture than their experiences have painted. Phil and Sherry asked me what I would do in a changed world. Could I do my job under a microscope? Can I play with my daughters while constantly listening for loud noises?”

“They have some choices to make in the weeks to come, hard permanent choices. No better way than to admit they don’t have all the facts at hand.” Nick said, “Phil’s sisters knew they could do what they wanted with impunity. But it wasn’t right to operate in a world divorced from the civil community.”

“With me, it was how do I balance personal anger with concern for the rights of the accused? The pure sincerity of the question made me think hard about my responsibilities as a law enforcement officer.” Overman added, “All I could say to Melody and SuLing was that the right thing was more often than not the hardest and least popular. That in the end, we all have to face our inner demons alone and answer for every decision.”

“I heard some the smallest girls of the lot stand up tall with Captain Swenson, willing to pay the ultimate price for the right thing. ‘This is who we are’ could have been their epitaph and they all knew it. Sacrifice, service and honor are at their core.” Pierson observed. “The girls on the boat acted the same. They hit the perimeter full speed ahead and guns blazing. The damage to the boat is loud testament to what they endured. They did not ignore the peril, they faced it. They all knew that it was the ‘hill’ on which they could die, especially the eight on the beach.”

“I’d give odds they will have this conversation with their parents, friends and the University administration before the week is out.” Nick insisted. “Due consideration for all parties affected.”

“Serious parenting all around. Not a bad kid in the lot. No sissies need apply.”

“Sheriff, you have no idea. Last night, Dr. Swenson, the Swenson’s mother told them to suck it up and quit whining. Marine medics are more sympathetic. But the kids seemed to take comfort in her attitude.”

“They would worry only if she acted worried, Gunny. Her outward attitude assured each one they would be OK. Claire was heartbroken inside. She is anything but cold when her kids, hell anyone’s kids, are involved.” Nick revealed, “The parents love them unconditionally, but demand strength and personal responsibility. They build young adults from the ground up. The best gift any parent can give. Every one of the kids has a fat trust fund, but they can’t have it until they prove they don’t need it. They don’t even find out it exists before they are secretly evaluated. Mediocrity is sometimes tolerated but never rewarded. To really stand out, they need to demonstrate something extra. Merely good isn’t good enough. I don’t know what that ‘extra’ is.”

“How do you test a kid for responsibility?” Overman asked.

“Phil excelled in martial arts and wrote ground breaking software. In high school.Then licensed it to some of the largest universities and multinational corporations in the country. He makes crazy amounts of money but drives an old dependable truck. You’ve seen how he fights and inspires his crew with his leadership. Traci piloted a 12-foot, 20 hp, boat from Annapolis to here alone in order to get started on her scholarship financed college career early. Then piloted a rocket through a tremendous battle without a question. Polly, Melody, SuLing and Willy are virtuoso musicians. All of them excel in their field, be it biology, English Lit, music, art, engineering or computer science. I suppose you would say the test is for excellence in the face of adversity and bold effective creativity in problem solving. Figuring out what has to be done and having the courage to follow it through.”