They laid on their bed, arms tied above their heads and fastened to the headboard while they waited for the vans to arrive. Emily was so weak Frank wasn’t sure she would survive the trip to San Antonio. They whispered together whenever their tormenters left the room, reminding each other of their love and praying for strength, and especially that Brogan and Bryan could escape once they heard about the executions.
Even as weak as she was, Emily was a tower of strength, reminding him of how good their life together had been. “No regrets, honey,” she whispered. “And I’d do the whole Book Liberators thing all over again.” Frank tried to agree, but his worry for her made it difficult.
Frank managed to move just enough so much of his body touched hers. He knew it might be their last time together on earth and he wanted to treasure each moment, no matter how painful.
“Me neither,” he finally managed to say. “I love you so much. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. If God allows us to talk to our daughter before we die, I want her to know we are very proud of her.”
Emily’s body relaxed as she began to doze from exhaustion. Although neither of them knew what to expect, they believed God was in control and would not give them more than they could bare.
As Frank lay in his cell two days later, remembering all that had happened, he was strangely at peace. Instead of focusing on how bad things were for him, he decided to do what he knew Emily would and that was to encourage his cell mates.
Despite his pain, he dozed off while he recited to himself some of his favorite Bible verses. He resolved to share what little strength he had with those around him when he awakened, regardless of what happened.
Chapter Twelve
The Alamo and The Plan
Brogan and Bryan crept silently toward the old Alamo mission, looking for a spot to plant themselves to watch the entrance and decide if the BL meeting notice was a trap by OCB. They found a spot near the crumbling old wall surrounding the mission, giving them a good view of what appeared to be the only entrance to the mission grounds.
Bryan looked at the old watch; close to 11 pm, so not long to wait. As they settled down in their hiding spot, Herman decided to do a little more exploring on his own. The couple knew he would easily find them and it wouldn’t hurt for him to sniff around before the meeting to see if anyone lurked about.
Brogan pulled out a couple of protein bars and a bottled water. Bryan tucked a solar blanket around them to keep out the night desert chill as they munched. For such a large suburb, it was amazingly quiet, with no signs of traffic, pedestrians, or an overhead dome. Off in the distance they heard a mariachi band, laughter and even some singing.
“That’s probably down at the old Riverwalk,” Brogan whispered to Bryan. “I remember reading about it when I studied Texas history. It has been a favorite spot for tourists and residents for more than two hundred years. Boats go up and down a small river with mariachi bands, partiers and tourists, taking them to pubs and restaurants built right down to the river. Some of the pictures I saw showed colorful lights strung across the river to provide a year-round festive look. I’m sure it will be delightful to see someday,” she said wistfully.
She fell quiet as Bryan put his arm around her and she snuggled close. Herman padded up and laid down with his head on her lap.
She smiled up at her partner, “Guess this means no bad guys sneaking around.
“It is at quiet times like this I miss my journals the most. I guess I just need to tuck everything away in my memory so someday I can write it down.”
“I know, honey. I’m missing our reading time, too. But if we keep going with our attempt to restore our freedoms, I know someday we’ll read and write without fear.”
The threesome sat comfortably in their spot until time for the BL meeting, never seeing any sign of law enforcement. Right on the dot at 11 pm, they began to see a few people moving toward the mission, pulling on masks as they did so. Brogan and Bryan stood up, pulled on their own masks and joined the silent procession.
As they moved quietly through the west entrance, a cell member checked for T-chips in their hands. Finding none, they went through to the courtyard of the old mission. They also checked Herman’s collar to make sure there were no T-chips hidden inside.
The courtyard was surrounded on three sides by an old, crumbling one-story building, with the east side an extension of the wall surrounding the front of the mission. On the north end of the courtyard, a member motioned them toward a gated area with an old bell tower above it. As they walked through the gate, they were checked again for T-chips and directed down some steps to an old wine cellar, Herman following silently on their heels.
At the bottom of worn steps, about 30 people sat silently on old wooden benches. A masked woman in front nodded at them and invited them to join the group. She stood about 5’5” tall and her UTA jumpsuit fit perfectly in all the right places. By her side sat a black Labrador, immediately catching Herman’s attention. At first Brogan wondered if she ought to know the leader but quelled the thought. Before they sat down, they went up to her. Brogan spoke first.
“We are not from around here. We’re fugitives, fleeing Operation Close the Book task force and we need help. We know it is presumptuous to ask, but we are desperate. May we have the opportunity to speak to the group, please?”
The woman beckoned them to a back room and whipped off her mask. It was Allison Simpson.
“Allison!” Brogan and Bryan removed their masks, and each gave her a big hug. “How did you get here? We haven’t seen you in months. How are you? How did you know it was us?”
Allison laughed at their barrage of questions. “First, you two are hard to miss, you’re so tall. And, I’ve seen you enough times in masks I’d recognize you anywhere. And who is this?”
As she reached down to pet Herman, whose entire rear end wagged as he silently begged for her attention. “And this is Marco Junior,” Allison said, introducing them to the beautiful Lab. She continued petting Herman as she talked, while Allison’s dog nudged Brogan for attention.
“Secondly, I’m living down here, working at UT San Antonio’s hematology research center. I happened to be here training some BL people on how to implant thumb pouches when the crackdowns occurred in Van Horn. The former cell leader got scared and left town, so I took over. Now I’m assuming you came here because of your parents, Brogan?”
At the sight of a familiar face, Brogan struggled to control herself, determined to not break down in tears. But, it was easier and easier to squelch her emotions as time passed, so she nodded her head without shedding a tear.
“Yes,” Bryan replied. “We want to get inside the prison. Break them out if we can.”
“Whoa!” Allison said skeptically, “That’s a huge order. I don’t even know if it’s possible.”
She cocked her head toward the meeting room behind her where the murmur of voices could be heard getting louder.
“The natives are getting restless, so put your masks back on and let’s go out and see what the group has to say. I know some of our members work at the prison, so maybe they can help.”
The trio, with Herman and Marco Junior happily padding along behind, put on their masks and walked out to stand in front of the group. Allison raised her arms for quiet.
“Fellow BL members. I stand before you tonight with a heavy heart. You all know about the executions of more than 200 fellow members in Van Horn, martyrs for the cause for freedom. I ask for a moment of silence in their honor. Those of you who believe in God, please pray for their families and those now in prison here in San Antonio.”
After a period of poignant silence, Alice said a heartfelt, “Amen.”
“Now to some very important business. I am sure you came tonight to not only discuss the future of the BL movement, but also to discuss how to protect yourself and your families from the thugs working for Operation Close the Book task force. We’ll get to that, but first a more urgent issue I want to bring to y
our attention. Although I will not give you their names, two founders of the Book Liberators arrived here tonight, and they need our help.”
Before Bryan stopped her, Brogan again removed her mask and stood silently before the shocked members. Brogan and Allison slowly followed her example, having complete faith in her reasons for deciding to reveal her identity.
“You probably wonder why I took off my mask.”
She looked over and saw Brogan and Allison had removed theirs as well. She was moved by their obvious trust in her decision. She swallowed hard and continued.
“It is because I choose to no longer be anonymous. I am tired of hiding in the shadows. I am proud of what each one of you do to restore our lost freedoms, to save books, to protect our right to think, to read, to write, and to believe what we choose. I removed my mask in honor of over 200 martyrs who lost their lives a few days ago, because they believed so strongly in our cause. I am not asking you to remove your masks, but I am asking you to recommit yourselves to our mission. If we don’t do this for our children and our children’s children, who will?”
Everyone in the group stood silently to their feet and whipped off their masks, trampling on them in a sign of their solidarity for the cause. There was no need for shouting. The moment was too solemn for noise. There were some murmurs as the members recognized each other and Allison as the doctor who provided free medical care to their families.
Brogan let the silence continue for a couple of minutes before she said, “You should not go out and announce to the world you are Book Liberators. Continue to protect your identity during protests, at work and among non-members. Stay safe to continue the work, now even more difficult and dangerous. But neither should you be afraid to stand up for yourself and the cause if the time comes. That is exactly what my parents did.
“My name is Brogan Finlay-Douglass, and this is my partner Bryan Douglass. We are two of the founders of Book Liberators. My parents, Frank and Emily Finlay, were arrested by members of OCB task force and are now held in the Alamo prison intake center. They are scheduled for interrogation on Tuesday, along with the remaining 50 BL members rounded up in the Van Horn raids.
“My parents did not hesitate. They volunteered to lead the establishment of hundreds of BL cells all along the border of Texas Province among thousands of energy grunts. Under their leadership, thousands, if not millions of books were hidden and preserved for our future.
“Bryan and I need to find a way into the prison to see my parents and, if possible, free them and the rest of the prisoners. If Major Riley interrogates them, thousands more cell members may lose their lives because of what they know. Is there anyone here who knows how we can get into the prison and save them?”
She looked around the room. At first there was no response. Then, in the back, a man who looked quite elderly stood up. He started to speak, but since he spoke Spanish, Brogan did not understand what he said. Fortunately, a woman in the front row started to translate for him.
“He says he understands English better than he speaks it, so if it is okay, he will speak in Spanish and I will translate.”
“That’s fine,” Brogan responded. “Can you give me your first names?”
“I am Juanita, and this is Pedro.” Juanita began to translate as Pedro spoke. “Senor Pedro says he used to work in the kitchen at the prison. He thinks if prisoners can be moved into the cafeteria there may be a way to get them to the kitchen, since there is a sewer opening under the floor.”
Bryan reached over and grabbed Brogan’s hand and whispered to her, “This might work!”
She squeezed his hand and walked back to the old man. She gently held his hand and whispered to him, “Muchas Gracias, Senior,” just about the only Spanish she knew.
Another member spoke up. “In case you need to deal with some guards, I know how to get ahold of some stun guns, if you know how to use them.”
Bryan spoke up. “Yes, we’ve been trained in weapons use, so can you get them to us sometime later tomorrow night? Talk to me afterwards and we’ll work out the details. Hopefully we won’t need to use them. Thanks very much.”
Allison held up her hands to stop murmurs as people began to talk excitedly about other ways to help, everyone wanting to contribute something. Before she said anything, another member sitting in the front raised her hand. She seemed rather shy. She hung her head as she spoke barely above a whisper.
“Yes, Joyce?”
“Why don’t we stage a parade in front of the prison the day of the escape? That will take the attention of the guards away from the back where the kitchen area is. We always celebrate various saints’ days, so guards won’t be suspicious if we celebrate another day.”
“Brilliant idea, Joyce!”
The rest of the meeting they discussed plans for Tuesday’s protest, parade and escape, plus ways to keep members from getting caught. By midnight members began to disperse, each one with an assigned task before the attempted breakout in two days.
Allison led Brogan, Bryan and the dogs to an apartment one of the BL members rented to her near the Riverwalk. Although old, it was clean and neat, tucked in between a series of brownstone style buildings turned into homes after shops closed during the war. What had been a store front now served as the living room window. A long, comfortable cushion for seating was in the display window, draped with bright, Mexican blankets for privacy. The former store was divided into two apartments downstairs with a wall between the two. A common stairway in the middle led to a spare bedroom and extra bathroom upstairs.
There was only one room downstairs in each apartment, but high ceilings made the areas look large. A kitchen filled the back of Allison’s apartment, with her bed visible behind an ornate screen. A small bathroom was tucked behind the kitchen.
Before they retired for the night, Allison made them a light meal, while they brought her up to date with everything, relaxing in a safe place. Exhausted, the couple finally headed upstairs, and Allison kept Herman downstairs with her to give the young couple some privacy. It was fine with Herman, since he and Marco Junior had already discovered a toy to play tug-a-war with.
Brogan turned to Bryan after the lights turned out in their bedroom. “Bryan, make love to me. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring and I want to feel as close to you as I possibly can.”
He gently folded her into his arms. As they rocked together, expressing their deep love and affection for each other, his heart ached for his young partner. He wished somehow to absorb the burden from her. He wished she could cry. He hoped her lack of tears did not mean she was shutting down emotionally.
As the morning sun’s rays peeked through the window curtains, Brogan awakened first. She stretched lazily; their first good night’s sleep in a couple of days. She knew she could better cope with whatever the next few days brought. She turned to look at her handsome partner, lying on his side facing her. A lock of his dark hair fell across one eye and his mouth parted as a small snore escaped as he slept.
She started to get out of bed when he grabbed her and pulled her back into bed. She squealed as he began tickling her. “You’re not getting away from me so easily, woman!”
They were going to make love again when they heard a gentle knock on the door and Allison calling, Herman barking beside her. They both sighed as they realized the world was intruding.
“Coming,” Brogan called.
“Don’t mean to rush you,” Allison said, “But there are some visitors you will want to see right away.”
They hurriedly dressed and came downstairs as the smell of breakfast wafted toward them. Sounds of familiar voices greeted them from the kitchen.
“Juan and Janice!” Brogan shouted as she saw them in the kitchen. “What a wonderful surprise!”
Handshakes and hugs abounded with questions tumbling about. The two dogs happily jumped between the friends, tails and rear ends wagging like flags in a hurricane, wanting their share of attention.
“When did you get here
?”
“Why are you here?”
“Are you sure it is safe for you?”
Everyone started laughing at once. It appeared from an array of blankets strewn around the living room, Juan and Janice arrived in the middle of the night. Juan probably sleeping on the couch and Janice on the window seat.
They fell into an old routine, one they performed many times working on BL projects. Allison turned back to the stove to continue cooking pancakes, while Janice started setting the table for breakfast. Bryan pulled the bacon from the Bio Robot Refrigerator gel, while Brogan poured the orange juice. Juan stood near-by pretending to look helpless. As they always did, they teased him about being spoiled by his partner.
“You are so helpless in the kitchen, Juan. Lolita has definitely spoiled you,” Bryan teased.
“Yeah, I know, but it gets me out of work, doesn’t it?”
Bryan threw a dish towel at him. As the group happily sat down to breakfast, Allison informed them Marco sent her a brief message saying he would arrive with the major’s entourage on Monday night, but with no other details. Allison had already brought Juan and Janice up to date on the plans for trying to get Brogan’s parents out of jail. Both instinctively knew they needed to be in San Antonio after they heard about the arrests of Brogan’s parents.
After breakfast, Allison told them the safest way to get into the prison would be for her to go in officially as a member of the research team at UT San Antonio. The prison intake center where the prisoners were held was on the same campus, just under much tighter security.
“I can use the research we are doing on long-term health impact of solar panels on energy grunts as reason to see prisoners. Brogan and Bryan will go with me as my research assistants. Nobody will think a thing about it, since I’ve been in the prison before to examine other prisoners. While there we should be able to figure out the best way to help them escape.
The White Warrior Page 15