He reached out to his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You know I love you more than anything in the world. If I do this, I’ll be as safe as I can. But a student asked me to help take care of him in case he gets in trouble, and I don’t think I can say no to that. I just don’t.”
After a few moments, Rachel pulled away and looked her husband in the eye. Terry wondered if she would be able to hold the tears back for long. “I’m guessing I probably won’t be able to talk you out of this. But you need to do two things for me.”
“Name them.”
“First you need to be in prayer about this. Real, deep prayer. If you need more than the week they are giving you, then ask for more time. If you’re going to do something like this, you need to be absolutely sure this is what God wants.”
“And the second thing?”
“Do you remember when I said what I would do if you died on me?”
Terry practically whispered the answer. “That you would never forgive me.”
She took a deep breath that seemed to stave off the tears. “Well, don’t make me find out, OK?”
Nodding, he mouthed his response. “OK.” The two hugged again for several moments, and, as Terry comforted his wife, he silently prayed for wisdom.
12
Jim checked his phone the following Monday afternoon—just past five. Brian was just about to leave for the day, and they were making small talk at the door. “Have we heard back from Larry Holcombe?”
The chief of staff shook his head. “No, but I think he’ll reach out sooner or later.”
“I think we both know him better than that, but I appreciate your optimism.” Delores Holcombe’s widower and Jim went way back, and a lot of that history wasn’t good. He had always wondered how much he blamed him for the death of his daughter. He probably holds me responsible for Delores’s death as well in some fashion. “At any rate, that’s a problem for another day. You should get going. I’m flying up to Sacramento in the morning, but I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon and we can talk more then.”
At that point, Jim noticed Terry approaching the office. Sergeant Strojny, who had taken over Jim’s old office, came to see who the visitor was.
Jim gave the teacher a firm handshake. “It’s good to see you, man. I was a bit surprised when you called and asked to meet. How are things going at school?”
“Just fine. Some students are doing great, but others have the misguided notion that they know everything, and it seems to be my job to disabuse them of that idea.”
They chuckled as Jim showed his old friend to his office.
“Nice digs.”
“Yeah, well it’s mostly to make people think I work for a living. To be honest, I just care about helping people with their problems.”
“Wow, two months in and you already sound like a veteran politician.”
“I know, I know. I wouldn’t have believed the line either back when I was a reporter, but I really mean it. I didn’t want this job, but I sort of fell into it. And since I’m here, I might as well do the right thing.”
“I know what you mean.”
“How so?”
“I’ll explain later. Now, what do you think of coming out to talk to my students about how government actually works—or doesn’t work, as the case may be.”
The two talked for several more minutes before Jim’s phone buzzed. Apologizing for the interruption, he answered the call and talked for less a minute.
“That was Police Chief Gibson. Apparently, there has been a break in the case and he needs to brief me. He’ll be here in about 15 minutes, so we’ll have to wrap up by then. Where were we?”
“Discussing how it’s hard to make friends in politics.”
“Right, right. You know I thought it was bad being a reporter or the advisor for the college newspaper because everyone seemed mad at you when you were just doing your job, but politics is so much worse. I have a lot of people who would say they’re my friend, that is until I think about voting for what I believe is right. Then they won’t return my messages for a week. And I’ve only been there since August. I have allies, but not real friends. Then again, I suppose that’s not quite what I signed up for.” He paused. “Sorry for rambling a bit there. Hey, you’re a government teacher, what do you think about the presidential race?”
“What do I think, or what would I tell my students?”
“Don’t worry. I know you need to be impartial in the classroom, but I’m an independent, remember? I’m not sworn to like either one of them and, truth be told, I don’t.”
“Well, in that case…”
A few minutes later they were interrupted by a knock at the door. The door opened a couple seconds later and Strojny motioned for P.J. and a guest to enter.
Jim rose and shook hands with Terry. “Well, it was great seeing you again…”
P.J. interrupted the two. “Actually, Mr. Gould can stay. As a matter of fact, it’s vital that he does.”
Jim looked from one to the other in confusion.
Terry shrugged in reply. “When I said I’d explain later, this is what I was talking about.”
Jim eyed the man the police chief had with him. He immediately recognized Dransfelt from the press conference at Foothill University in March. This can’t be good. “Agent Dransfelt, it’s good to see you again. I hope you have some news about who killed Delores Holcombe.”
“I do.” Dransfelt motioned to his chair. “Why don’t we all have a seat, and I’ll get you up to speed.”
The agent spent the next several minutes succinctly explaining the actions of the States’ Rights Militia and its connection to Emerald Valley High School, highlighting Terry's support role in the operation.
Jim’s eyes widened. “And you think all of this is connected to what happened to Delores, Agent Dransfelt?”
“We do. We suspect that Gregory Booker may be our shooter, but we don’t have enough to prove anything at the moment.”
“How do you plan to get enough to prove it?”
“If he does do something around Halloween, that means we will have him in custody in the next two weeks, if not sooner, and we’ll have plenty of time to get the truth out of him at that point.”
“Fair point, but why are you reading me in on your operation? I don’t see how I can be of help.”
P.J. fielded the question. “Normally, I have no intention to tell you how to run your campaign…”
“But…”
“But it would be most helpful if you didn’t talk about catching the assemblywoman’s killer. At least not for the next two weeks. After we have him in custody, then you can say whatever you want.”
Jim considered the request for a moment. “Normally I would tell you where you could take your suggestion about what I can or cannot say, but I won’t do anything to jeopardize the investigation. My lips are sealed.”
Dransfelt nodded. “Thank you very much. We will keep you updated when we can. Don’t worry. We’ll get Mr. Booker, one way or another.”
Dead or alive, you mean. Jim should be hoping for the latter, but, if he were honest with himself, he wasn’t sure that was the case.
After P.J. and Dransfelt left, Jim walked Terry to the door.
“So, I know why they wanted you to stay. They thought our connection might influence me to agree to keep quiet. If I knew someone involved, I would be less likely to jeopardize the mission. What I want to know is why did you agreed to play 007.”
“A student needed my help. That’s the main reason.”
“And what was your secondary motivation?”
Terry smiled. “Dude, I just got to have a meeting with a police chief, an FBI agent, and a state legislator about a top-secret mission to take down a domestic terrorist. There was no way I was going to pass up on that.”
They laughed. “So, did you get a secret decoder ring when you signed up?”
“No, no pen gun either.”
“I suppose it’s not like the movies, is it?
”
Terry shrugged. “I hope not. I may talk a good game, but there tends to be an awful lot of shooting in those movies.”
13
Saturday, October 29
The text came at lunchtime as Terry was enjoying a homemade ham-and-Swiss on sourdough. He had a rule about checking his phone at the dinner table, but he made an exception since he was eating alone in his classroom. The phone number was Gabe's, which was unexpected since he also never gave out his mobile number to students. The truth flashed into his mind like a strobe light. There must be an SRM meeting tonight!
Meet @ 730 in mr ds room we might need pizza
To anyone else, the message would have seemed innocuous. There would be a meeting tonight in Sam Delaney’s classroom. Gabe must think there’s going to be trouble if he asked for ‘pizza.’ Pressing the speed dial for Giovanetti’s, he identified himself to the agent on the other end of the line and explained the situation.
“Terry, are you saying you’ll need backup tonight?”
“I’m saying I’m not sure. All I know is he said ‘We might need pizza.’ I’m sure Gabe told his dad about the situation, but I wanted to pass it along to you guys as well.”
“Sounds good. We will be ready in case you call. Remember, don’t be a hero. If there is any trouble, you call us the first chance you get, OK?”
“Got it.”
Explaining his change of evening plans to Rachel would be the hardest part of the whole operation. She had to know what was going on. He planned the conversation out in his head, trying to figure out how he would assuage her concerns. He understood why she was worried and wanted to reassure her that he would do his best to stay safe. He wanted to tell her everything would be OK, but he was afraid that would be a lie. Over dinner, the two didn’t talk very much, except for Rachel to remind Terry they had plans to watch a romantic-comedy together. He vowed to make it by 9 p.m. so they could enjoy at least the first half of the film.
“Don’t be late, OK?” Obviously, she was concerned about more than the movie.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Promise you’ll call for help if you get into trouble?” He could hear the pleading in her voice.
“I promise.”
_____
Terry pulled his Honda Civic into the school’s virtually empty parking lot and found a spot near the far edge. As he had been trained by the Bureau, he leaned against his trunk and, as casually as possible, placed a one-inch piece of reflective tape just above the bumper. According to the plan, this would help law enforcement know he was here and that he was in trouble. He planned to peel it off when he left. Hopefully.
As he walked across the darkened lot to the campus steps, Gabe signaled him with the flashlight on his phone.
“You tell your dad about this?” Terry asked, when he reached the boy.
“Yeah. He’s really worried about me. He told me to make sure I call the minute I need his help. What about Mrs. Gould?”
“She gave me a 9 o’clock curfew.” They shared a nervous laugh. “Are you ready?”
Gabe exhaled loudly. “As I’ll ever be, I guess. Let’s do this.”
The two walked in silence as they approached Delaney’s classroom. Like most of the classrooms on the outer rim of the campus, Room O-2 had no windows. Gabe knocked on the door in a rhythmic pattern of short and long bursts.
“Morse Code?”
Gabe nodded. “SRM.”
The door opened and a student popped his head out. “What’s the code?”
“These are the times that try men’s souls.”
As an AP Government teacher, Terry immediately recognized the opening line to Thomas Paine’s The Crisis No. 1. Based upon what Gabe had told him earlier in the month, he imagined that a great deal of their conversation tonight would reference back to the Founding Fathers and their complaints against oppressive government. He was also afraid they would turn to violence much more quickly than Benjamin Franklin or Thomas Jefferson would have.
Entering the room, Terry noticed six other students, five boys and a girl, all dressed casually in jeans and hoodies. At the front of the room, Delaney and Gregory Booker were talking quietly.
Booker turned to the open door. “This is a private meeting.”
Terry had been meeting with Delaney over the last couple of weeks to establish his credentials as a “true believer.” He also had rehearsed what he would say if he ever found himself at such a meeting. It’s show time. “Gabe asked me to come with him.”
Booker shrugged. “He said he might be bringing you with him. But, like I said, this is a private meeting. How do we know we can trust you?”
Delaney touched Booker on the shoulder. “Don't worry, man. Terry and I have been talking the last few weeks and he's one of us.”
Booker grimaced. “I’m still not sure…”
Terry leaned in and gave Booker a half-smile. “It’s Gregory, right? Listen Gregory, I totally understand your skepticism, but like Sam said, I’m with you guys. I believe what you believe.” Then Terry began to weave together fact and fiction as he spun a tale he hoped they would believe. “My dad served in Vietnam. Two tours. He saw terrible, terrible things but he would never tell me about them. When he got back to the States, people spit on him even before he left the airport. He had served his country with honor and then they go and disrespect him before he could say hi to his wife, my mother.”
Terry looked straight into Booker’s eyes to see if he believed him. I sure hope he’s buying this.
“So, he started a family with Mom and we grew up in the suburbs just like everybody else. When I was 10, I remember my dad complaining about stories in the paper that showed how people were abusing the welfare system by taking benefits they didn’t need. ‘I didn’t fight for the country just so people could take my hard-earned money and waste it!’ The more and more we saw these types of things happen, the angrier my dad became.” Some of this was true, some not, but at least a few of the faces said it was working.
“That’s the kind of home I grew up in. My dad may have left the Marines, but like he always said, there is no such thing as an ex-Marine. He knew he couldn’t do anything, but he always told me if I could do something to return our nation to the values of the Founders that I should be willing to sacrifice anything for that goal. I plan to honor those wishes as best I can.” Terry took a breath. I hope that’s enough. “Will that get me in the room?”
Booker’s face betrayed little emotion. “For now.”
Gabe and Terry took seats next to the other students in the first couple of rows. Booker walked to the front of the classroom, thanked Delaney for the use of the room, and began his comments. “Like Mr. Delaney here, I am a pretty big fan of our government. Well, I’m a fan of the way our government used to be, before it got all messed up.”
Derek laughed at his father’s joke, while the other students just smiled. Terry chuckled to help convince Booker he was buying whatever the man was selling.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: our own Founding Fathers gave us a blueprint for fixing these problems. The Declaration tells us ‘whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.’ They go on to say that we shouldn’t change our government ‘for light and transient causes,’ but I think we can argue there has been a ‘long train of abuses and usurpations’”
Booker began pacing the room as he continued.
“We see it every day. Our freedoms taken away by the president and his administration as Congress sits idly by and does nothing. Even if we get someone new elected, you know things will never change. That’s because both parties seem to have forgotten to take care of the people who make America great every day. Instead, they bow and scrape to the people who take your hard-earned tax d
ollars, like Mr. Gould said earlier, pretending to be sick or unable to get a job. They buy cars and drugs and TVs and then come back asking for more. We have the government snooping in on our phone conversations, threatening to lock us up if we say the wrong thing. People stream across our borders stealing our jobs and refusing to pay for the schools and hospitals they use every day. Well, it’s time for that to stop. It’s time for us to take our country back.”
Terry had heard such heated rhetoric before, but the kind of change most people talked about happened at the ballot box. Terry feared Booker and the other members of the States’ Rights Militia had something far more drastic in mind.
“This summer, our mighty state government in Sacramento wanted to pass yet another law giving money to people who are here illegally. They don’t deserve it. They didn’t work for it. And our local assemblywoman said she was on the fence, but it was obvious she didn’t have the courage to make the right call. She was going to betray our laws and our values. So I—I mean we, took care of the problem.”
Terry stared at Booker in shock. He just admitted to killing Delores Holcombe.
“But the problem is not just in Sacramento. It's in our schools, too. Teachers are brainwashing kids with lies until they don't even know what it means to be an American. It is time to stand up for the truth so, a few weeks ago, Zach Straszewski at Del Madre High School sacrificed his freedom for our cause. His parents immigrated here legally, and he’s just as sick as you guys are of people who break our laws to come here. He’s sick of the government spying on U.S. citizens without any oversight. He hates that people are losing the right to own guns even for their own protection. But he’s also sick of the politicians and the pastors and the other ‘activists’ who think debate and discussion are the way out of this. It didn’t work for the Founding Fathers. Samuel Adams and Patrick Henry knew that King George III wasn’t going to give in to their demands. They knew the time had come for action. It’s time for us to take action as well.”
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