Fire in the Ashes

“That nine people dressed in black robes, sitting on a bench in some city, have the right to tell millions what is best for them is ridiculous—and most of us know it. But until only recently, we were powerless to change it. It was bad before the bombings—borderlining on asininity; I don't have to tell you what has happened since the world exploded; you've all had the misfortune to live under the rule of a madman and his police state.

“The price of real freedom never comes cheaply—it is, in fact, very high. Sometimes, in order to gain real freedom, one must break some laws—as we are doing. But I believe—and I think you all agree with me—the end will justify the means. If I didn't believe that, I would not be asking my men and women to lay their lives on the line for you people. I would just take my personnel and head into a section of the nation and rebuild my Tri-States. But I realized that I would have to someday fight the central government. So here we are. Like marriage, for better or for worse."

The crowd laughed for several moments at that; the men more than the women.

“Okay,” Ben held up his hand for silence. “We'll be pulling out in the morning, then you folks can have yourselves a real town meeting, without us looking over your shoulders. But at the outset of this meeting, someone in the audience had a beef concerning your local federal police. What was it?"

A man stood up. “I'm the one. First of all, let me say that I think we in Radford are more fortunate than some other folks. We've been ... well, untouched is not the word, but handled a bit easier than others around us. No torture that I know of—at least not the physical kind, not until the cops grabbed my daughter, that is.

“Most everyone in this room will tell you those of us in the underground—supporting you, General, I mean—kept our kids out of it completely. They had no knowledge of what was going on. We figured that was the best way to go.

“Well ... my wife called me at work one afternoon and she was really upset, crying, almost hysterical. It was about our youngest daughter. Pat. I tell her I'm on my way home and I'll call the doctor from the plant. The Doc beat me home and he was with Pat in her bedroom for a long time. When he comes out, he was angry, red-faced, and cussing.

“The police had got one of those anonymous phone calls telling them Pat and some of her friends were in the Rebel underground. General Raines, Pat is only fourteen years old and small for her age. But she's definitely female, if you know what I mean.

“Well, the cops took the girls to the jail for questioning; didn't call me or any of the other parents. They kept the girls down there for almost four hours, and they got pretty ugly with the kids.” He paused and shook his head, as if choosing his next words carefully.

“I guess the best way to say it is just to come right out with it. The cops stripped the girls and searched them ... with their hands and fingers. This is embarrassing, General. And just think how it must have been for those kids.

“It ... got really ... perverted for a time. I won't go into that. It never was rape—in the strictest sense of the word; but it was dirty, General. Real dirty."

“Wait a minute,” Ben interrupted, turning to James Riverson standing in the wings. “Go get the cops and bring them in here. Put the young one in question on stage; right over there,” he pointed. “He has a right to hear the charges leveled against him."

The officers were herded in and placed on both sides of the stage, the young officer in the center of the stage.

The young officer was scared, and looked it. Steve Mailer, standing in the wings on the right side of the stage pegged the young officer with one quick glance. He was the classic example of small-town federal cop; and also the classic example of small-town cop fifty years back. Maybe a high school education, but probably not. He would swagger and bluster. He would be a womanizer and would use his badge to achieve this goal. He would be a failure at almost anything other than being a small-town cop. He would be an amateur all his life. He would be a bully and a coward.

Ben pointed to the young man. “You searched several young girls, including that man's daughter?” Ben shifted the accusing finger to the citizen standing alone in the crowd. The audience was very quiet.

“Yeah, I did,” the cop said defensively.

Ben looked at the parent. “Tell your story."

“He searched her after he stripped her naked. It was a very ... personal search, and he—all the cops—said things ... made suggestions and proposals to the girls. He made Pat bend over, naked, and grab her ankles. Then he used his fingers ... on her. Well ... when I finally got the whole story, I went looking for that son of a bitch,” he pointed to the federal officer. “I found him outside the police station."

“Were you armed?” Ben asked the man.