by Clyde Key
* * *
A few days after the PNN report, Jamal Jefferson and some Rabble members met at a cabin near Lufkin, many kilometers from their training base in the thicket. The cabin, which had been abandoned and looked to be a hundred years old or more, was built in a glade and it blended into the wilderness so completely that it surprised Jefferson that his son Roland had found it. Even now it was difficult to find the place when one already knew where it was supposed to be.
Surprise turned quickly to anger when the elder Jefferson saw that Roland had brought a stranger to the cabin that day. The stranger was a young man although ruggedly built and deeply tanned. The man came dressed for making his way through the woods and didn’t seem to have suffered as much from coming through the brush as had Roland.
Jefferson quickly threw a tarp over the disassembled laser on the table. “Just who the hell is that?” he demanded.
“This is Rich Lyon,” said Roland. “He used to be in the army.”
“What’s he doing here and what does he know about us?”
“Let me answer that,” said Taylor. “I’m here because I think I know what you’re up to and I can help if you’ll let me.”
The older man looked at Roland. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing, Pop! Nothing at all! I just heard him talking in town and figured out he’s a sympathizer. He can help us!”
“How?” asked Jefferson. Perspiration suddenly glistened across his forehead and he mopped it with a handkerchief.
“I can get you some more weapons,” said Taylor. “The army hid a lot of laser arms when they got to thinking they might be disbanded. I think some of them might plan to go underground if that happens. Anyway, they wouldn’t miss a dozen long range ion lasers and I know where they’re stashed.”
“What’s this going to cost?” asked Jefferson. “What’s the bottom line of all this?”
“Nothing for you. Plenty for me if I get caught but I think you have plenty of reason not to turn me in.”
Jefferson was becoming rather more calm now. “How are we going to get these lasers?”
“Tell me where you want them. Your home or your business, maybe? You’re into some kind of business, aren’t you?”
Jefferson nodded. “Let me think about it. I don’t want anything going to my house and my employees might get into them at the store.”
“I’ve got an idea, Pop,” said Roland. “You’ve got an empty rent house. Have somebody stay there until the weapons come in.”
“That would do it,” said Jefferson. “When can we get a delivery?”
“It’ll be a couple of days at most,” said Taylor. “How can I reach you?”
Jefferson scribbled on a pad and tore off the page and handed it to Taylor. “That’s the address of the house in Houston. Call me at the store when the weapons are ready.”
“Tell him what else you told me,” said Roland.
“Oh, yeah. I told Roland I think you guys ought to advertise.”
“What! Are you crazy?”
“No. What I mean is take some credit for what you’re doing, like sending anonymous letters to the networks. They wouldn’t lay off something like that if they could.”
“But how would that help?”
“It’s this way, Mr. Jefferson. You’re not alone in this. Before I got out of the army, I heard there were a bunch of groups operating but the government is trying to keep it quiet so it won’t spread. I think it would encourage the others if they knew what you’re doing.”
“I don’t want to do something stupid and get caught. I don’t want to take chances with the kids either.”
“I can do it so it can’t be traced. That is, I will if it’s okay with you. I wouldn’t do anything behind your back,” said Taylor.