Redaction: The Meltdown Part II

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Redaction: The Meltdown Part II Page 39

by Andrews, Linda


  Murmurs started at the end and spread across the crowd. People rose on tiptoes and leaned to get a better view.

  They’d noticed. The hair on her arms stood up. And they were not pleased. Excellent. Score one for her side. She cleared her throat. Now to play her part.

  The truck slowed to a stop. The engine idled loudly then it finally fell silent. Behind the wheel, Jake Turner paled.

  If this little homecoming unnerved him, the next bit should make him crap his pants.

  Mavis stepped forward. “Alright, let’s unload the sick and injured.”

  Four Marines hustled to the rear of the truck.

  The crowd closed around the back. Some stared at the empty road then the single carrier as if trying to reconcile the two.

  She stifled a smile. Everything was going as planned. Now to up the ante. “Where are the people with blankets and coats? We’ve got children here.”

  Chains rattled as the gate dropped.

  Jake opened his door.

  Trent must have done the same on the other side.

  Someone shouted, “It’s the reverend! Thank God he’s alive.”

  David straightened, fists clenched at his side. He stomped into the street.

  Brother Bob clamped a hand on his shoulder and reeled him back. “Easy, soldier.”

  Good thing she insisted David leave his gun behind. Despite his promise, he might have shot Trent.

  “Doc!” A Marine jogged over to her. Anger left spots in his cheeks. “The back is empty.”

  Mavis looked over his shoulder, gauging the crowd’s reaction. “There should be fifty people in the back. Most of them children.”

  Nearly everyone felt the need to protect children.

  Confusion shifted to hostility. Men pushed forward. A few scrambled into the back. “It is empty.”

  Anger lasered on the two men who’d ridden in the cab.

  Trent sprinted around the front bumper. He raked a hand through is hair until the dirty blond locks stood on end. “Thank God we found you.”

  Mavis nodded.

  The two MPs marched forward. Handcuffs dangled from the fingers of one. “Trent Powers you’re under arrest.”

  “What!” Trent reared back too late.

  A silver bracelet dangled from his wrist. The MP quickly attached the other one, binding his hands in front, instead of back.

  “You can’t do this!” He raised his arms to show the crowd. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  The crowd shuffled closer. Speculation swarmed like riled bees.

  Airmen bracketed her and Brother Bob. Marines lined the walkway to the cafeteria keeping the path to the janitor’s closet-turned-jail free.

  David cupped her elbow. “I wish I had my gun now.”

  “We were attacked.” Trent shouted as the two MPs dragged him inside. “It’s not my fault the others aren’t with us.”

  The buzz of voices grew in volume. She felt the tide of belief lap at Trent’s shores.

  “The soldiers ran away instead of protecting us.” He jumped as the MPs shoved him through the door.

  “Bastard.” David’s fingers dug into her muscle.

  Mavis flinched but didn’t pull away. A bruise was a small price to pay to keep him from executing Trent. As for the crowd… She panned the audience.

  Brother Bob shook his head. “Mr. Powers seems to have lost a bit of sympathy with that last bit.”

  “True.” More than half of the audience dismissed Trent’s words. But several others had to think it over. A handful bought his words without thought.

  “Worried?” David loosened his grip.

  “Only twenty-five percent of the Colonists supported independence from England.” One in four. The number of people in the audience willing to think the worst of the military exceeded that now. She might have to rethink her timetable. “And look where that got us.”

  Brother Bob scratched his freshly shaven chin. “The trial will help most see Trent Powers’ true nature.”

  Yes, the trial. She turned her back to the crowd. Resting his hand on his holstered pistol, General Lister stood next to Jake Turner. The trial would start tomorrow. The mistrust must be contained. “Mr. Turner.”

  Lister escorted the man over. “We were just having a little chat about our mutual friend.”

  Jake Turner twisted the crucifix at his neck. The chain it hung on cut into his neck. “Ma’am.”

  “I understand you are a criminal defense attorney.” Mavis held her hand out to David, who set a tablet computer on it.

  Jake wedged a sausage thick finger under his coat collar and tugged. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. In the morning, you’ll be defending Trent Powers, insurance agent, on two charges of first degree murder.” She shoved the laptop into his chest. “The witnesses will be available to you once they arrive.”

  Once she saw Sunnie was alive and well.

  Jake swallowed hard. “Murder?”

  The crowd fell back at the magic word. Soon they rearranged themselves into clumps to discuss the latest turn of events. Good thing they’d already sequestered the potential jurors. Even as she acknowledged their voices, she heard Trent being acquitted or convicted just on impressions he’d made. But the murder wasn’t the main topic: his pretense of being a man of God angered them more.

  “Yes, murder in the first degree.” If the man could only speak one word sentences the case would be won too easily. There must be some sort of defense to protect the military, protect their fledgling society. “All the evidence is electronically recorded as are the statements and case notes.”

  Jake flicked on the screen. Denise Powers hung from the loft of her house. Green tinged his cheeks. “I don’t know much about military law.”

  “You don’t need to. Since both casualties were civilians, the Doc thinks it best to keep to civilian rules.” Lister tucked the warrant into Jake’s pocket and patted it.

  “So there could be a jury?” Ignoring the warrant, the defense attorney pulled up another picture. Belinda’s battered face stared back at him. His hand shook as he turned off the screen.

  “We’ve drawn up a list of names of people who’d sat on a trial before. Our prosecutor will go through the candidates with you for the actual selection.” Mavis’s hind brain niggled at her consciousness. Something was off here. “I know the trial will be a cruder version of what you’re used to, but it will be legal and binding. Given our current status, there will be no appeals.”

  Execution would be carried out as quickly as the judge said the words.

  Jake’s lips twitched. He tucked the book under his arm. “Then I guess I should consult with my client right away.”

  Lister snapped his fingers and a Marine stepped from the crowd. “Escort counsel to his client.”

  “He seems like a competent attorney.” Brother Bob stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. “I think he’ll put on a good defense.”

  “Not too good.” David cracked his knuckles.

  Mavis watched Jake Turner disappear through the cafeteria door when it hit her. “He didn’t react at all to the news that Trent Powers wasn’t a preacher.”

  Not even a blink. It was as if Jake had already known. Her throat tightened. Had she made a mistake? If Trent was acquitted, the military would take their justice and everyone would pay the price.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  What the fuck was going on? Trent paced the small room. Four steps to the side wall, five to the rusted sink on the back. Three steps to the right and he had to duck under the warped, empty white shelves that lined the other.

  He kicked at a blue bucket near the sink. Pain radiated up his shin. Son of a bitch! Hunching over, he grabbed his throbbing toes and hopped to the second. Empty but the roll of toilet paper on the ground spoke volumes. No way would he use that as a toilet.

  He was a human being.

  A reverend.

  Lowering his foot to the ground, Trent slowly added his weight. Muscles jumped at the s
light twinge but he refused to lift it. He wasn’t a loser; he could take the pain. And speaking of pain, where was his Bible?

  They would never dare treat him like this if he’d had it.

  Was it left behind in the other truck? Had someone stolen it? He’d suspect Jake but he would have produced it if he had. The book had power. Trent hobbled to the door and pressed his ear to the faux wood. The pounding of his heart obscured any sounds. Flattening his palm, he inched closer.

  Where were his followers?

  He’d heard them earlier, asking for him, demanding his release.

  The idiots hadn’t stated what he’d allegedly done. He could have used that bit of information. Growling, he shoved away from the door and continued his circuit. This was the bitch Mavis Spanner’s fault.

  She was jealous of him, of his power, of the fact that God favored him.

  No doubt she’d trump up some charge to get rid of him.

  His fingers traced the lip of the stainless steel sink. No matter what her stupid little mind dreamt up, he’d find a way around it. And when he was restored to his rightful place, she’d be in a pine box, suffocating to death while the faithful tossed dirt on her eternal cell.

  Keys jingled then the knob rattled.

  Trent turned. The metal trough sink cut across his ass. Weapon. He needed a weapon. Frustration clawed up him. They’d left him nothing. His nails raked the wood shelves. The fucking things didn’t budge.

  “Thank you.”

  Trent sagged. He knew that voice. Jake. Jake’s intelligence was rudimentary, but he was cunning. Especially if he convinced the military to let him in.

  “I’ll knock when I’m finished.” Jake Turner slid through the opening, balancing tan bags of Meals-Ready-to-Eat.

  The door slammed shut behind him and he skipped forward as if it hit him.

  Planting his fists on his hips, Trent glared at the man. “There’s not enough room for me in this dungeon, let alone you too.”

  “I brought you something to eat.” Jake dropped two bags when he tossed one over.

  Trent batted it away. It bounced off the wall and slid to the floor. “I don’t want fucking food. I want to know why I was humiliated and locked up.”

  He rubbed his wrists. Although the handcuffs were gone, he still felt their weight. Someone would pay for that.

  “Oh, I know that.” Jake smiled then bent over and picked up the MREs.

  “You! They told you!” Spittle flew out of Trent’s mouth but he didn’t care. If they locked him up in these inhumane conditions, they had to expect he would act like an animal. “Why would they tell you?”

  “Because I’m your lawyer.”

  “My what?” Trent’s fingernails dug into his palms.

  “Your lawyer.” Jake lined up the packages on the shelf. “I had a very successful practice before the Redaction.”

  Trent snorted. Successful by little men standards. He’d certainly never heard of Jake Turner. It was only because he was so good with names that he remembered him now. “And if I decline your services?”

  Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “You might want to hear the charges first.”

  Like that would change his mind. Still… “What are the charges?”

  “Stealing government property.”

  Trent’s mouth fell open. He snapped it closed. “They humiliated me, cuffed me in front of my followers and dragged me in front of everyone for that!”

  “Apparently, they want to use you as an example.” Jake shrugged. “There’s been lots of thefts lately, people hoarding MREs and the like, and they want everyone to know you can’t get away with it.”

  “Why the hell would anyone steal that shit?”

  Jake checked his fingernails. “Apparently not everyone has your… tastes.”

  Well, no. Trent was evolved while most everyone else was pond scum. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life.”

  A vein throbbed at Jake’s temple. He cleared his throat. “The truck we rode in on is a rather damning piece of evidence against you.”

  “Against you.” Trent crossed the room and shoved his face into the other man’s. “You were driving.”

  Jake took a deep breath then shook out his arms. “Which is why your sentence is mine as well. While you’re the only one officially being charged, I’ll receive the same sentence.”

  Trent eased back. That didn’t make any sense. “You were driving. You’re punishment should be harsher.”

  That would be fair. It was hardly his fault. He could claim innocent. How could he know the back was empty? Yes, he fingercombed his hair. That’s the story he’ll tell the jury. They were being attacked. People were dying. He’d tried to help someone but they were shot in his arms. He climbed aboard the cab just as it pulled out.

  With a few smiles and fake tears, he could sell it to the jury.

  He was damn good at selling shit.

  And Jake would take the wrap on his own.

  As it should be.

  “When is the trial?”

  “Tomorrow morning.” Jake retreated to the corner. “But I think we should forgo the jury and let a judge handle it.”

  “What! Why?” Juries are easily manipulated. Trent paced in front of his ‘lawyer’.

  “While I was getting your dinner, I heard rumors that the other trucks are on the way.” Jake lowered his voice. “They’ll be here in a couple of hours, plenty of time for the military to add charges.”

  Trent twitched and his heart raced. What had he done? What could be traced to him? Gary would rat him out in a heartbeat. But Ernest and Robert E. had actually done the beating of the soldiers and stealing of the trucks and sabotaged the other two vehicles in the convoy.

  He was safe, wasn’t he? Well he had done the one thing. “Letting kids play bumper cars with real vehicles isn’t a crime. Everything else is just hearsay.”

  Color flooded Jake’s cheeks. He pushed away from his corner. “I’m talking about you handing over that woman to Gary and his knife. Everyone heard her screams and they weren’t of sexual ecstasy.”

  The bitch had deserved it. Of course, the bleeding heart liberals around him probably wouldn’t see it that way. “What’s to stop them from charging me with Gary’s crime later?”

  He certainly wasn’t going down for that scumbag’s crime.

  “Evidence. But I want this bit of nonsense over and done with before the others show up.” Jake rearranged the MREs on the shelf. “You know how soft people are about kids. And there were a lot of kids on those trucks.”

  The idiot had a point. As charming as he was, he couldn’t compete with that. Add in the fact that the girls were well versed in using their tits to control men… It might be best for him to go with the judge. “Will I get to make a statement?”

  Jake shook his head. “Just enter your plea of not guilty and waive your right to a trial.”

  Hmm. Trent would like it better if he could talk to the judge. He was good at talking. “Is the judge male or female?”

  “Male.”

  Ah, well. Men required more time to bring around. Time he might not have if the others were scheduled to join them soon. “Okay. We’ll do it your way.”

  “Great.” Jake rubbed his hands together before knocking on the door.

  It opened a crack.

  “Tell the judge and prosecutor, we’re ready to enter our plea.”

  Trent frowned as the door shut. “Wait. Don’t I get to get out of here?”

  Proclaim his innocence to the world, to his faithful followers.

  “Best not.” Jake flashed his palms. “Some of the folks had kin on those trucks. They’re very angry. You’re safer in here.”

  Typical government bullshit. “The military is supposed to protect me. Of course, they would slack off.”

  It was a conspiracy and that doctor bitch was at the heart of it.

  He would let everyone know when he was released. That might work to his favor, gain him some worthy followers when he lef
t the convoy again. Those outside had to be better than the slag he’d been stuck with.

  The door opened and a man in a three piece suit stepped through. Gold glinted on his lapel and pinky finger. “You wanted to see me?”

  Ah, perfect a good ol’ boy network kind of guy. This was going to be better than he thought.

  Behind him stood the ugly bitch in charge and a scrawny sallow-skinned man in Dockers and a Polo shirt.

  If this was the loser gang facing him even Jake couldn’t lose.

  Jake cleared his throat. “My client wishes to enter his plea now, Judge Anderson.”

  The bitch raised an eyebrow.

  Surprised was she? Just wait until he got his revenge.

  The judge smiled. “That will move things along nicely. How do you plead?”

  Trent glared at Mavis and enunciated each word. “Not guilty.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Fuck you! he mentally cursed.

  “Of course. Of course. I don’t blame you.” Judge Anderson nodded then turned for the door. “If counsel will get started on jury selection, we can begin at oh-six hundred.”

  “Wait.” Jake raised his hand. “My client wishes to waive his right to a trial by jury.”

  “No!” The bitch’s shout bounced off the walls.

  Trent flashed his eye teeth. What do you know? If she wanted a trial, then Jake had done well to suggest he avoid one. “That is my wish.”

  Judge Anderson frowned at Mavis. “I’ll review the evidence tonight and render my verdict in the morning.”

  “Thank you, your honor.” Trent offered his hand. By breakfast tomorrow, he should be sitting down to a hot meal and recruiting for his new civilization.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Day Nine

  Manny yawned and rubbed the grit in his eye. He’d sleep. Later. When Trent Powers was dead. He hunched down in his hoodie and stuck his hands in his pocket. His fingers caressed the warm metal. He hoped he could get off two shots before…

  He swallowed hard.

  It didn’t matter what happened to him.

  All that mattered was Wheelchair Henry be avenged.

  Trent Powers had to die.

  He shifted on the hard plastic seat. His butt had fallen asleep early this morning. His legs were numb. But his mind was clear. He checked the clock. Five o’clock. One more hour until opportunity sashayed through the door. Those soldiers wouldn’t be able to protect that bastard Trent when he came in the cafeteria to hear the judge speak.

 

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