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until we stopped breathing
by sodomizing us (quite literally fucking us to death), when we
were rescued at the last second.
    “ Of course I remember, sir, but that’s
over. Admiral Hall and the others resigned, they were all forced
out of…” I began. He raised a hand.
    “ Jodie, it’s not over,” he gasped. He sat
up with a tremendous effort and motioned me closer. He spoke with
urgency, spending the last of his strength. “The same cabal that
Hall led is still around. They won’t give up. They hated me and
they hate you as my protégé and chosen successor, and they don’t
give a shit about the country. They will try to bring you down. All
they care about is power, and they’ll do anything to get it,
consequences be damned.”
    He sank down again and his eyes closed. He
was silent for so long, I thought for a minute he was gone. Then he
whispered so softly I could barely make out the words. “You have
friends you don’t know about, Jodie. Just remember that: you have
friends.” I waited for a long time, but he didn’t speak again. That
was the last time I saw General Cafferson alive. He died the next
day…
     

Chapter Three: Black Ops
     
    “Oh shit!” muttered the MP Captain. He
hastily pulled up his pants, then motioned his men towards Robin
and hissed, “Get her down. And straighten yourselves up, for
Chrissake!” In a louder voice he called, “Be right with you,
Major.”
    The Captain’s apprehension was
understandable. The National Security Bureau was the highest police
agency in the country, overseeing security investigations of both
the civil and military sides of the government. Not every person arrested by the NSB disappeared forever without a trace, but
there were enough rumors in which that had happened to a friend of
a friend circulating to make any sensible person want to stay off
the agency’s radar.
    The Captain tucked his shirt into his
waistband, tried to wipe away the most obvious stains from his
trousers, and then he opened the heavy metal door. Major Rodriguez
was in plainclothes, dressed in a blue pinstriped suit. He stepped
into the room, closely followed by a uniformed corporal and private
wearing the much-dreaded black and gold armband of the NSB. The
Major was on the short side, had a slender build, and the swarthy
complexion and dark, wavy hair that went with his surname. He had
high cheekbones and unusually delicate, almost feminine, features,
which the presence of a thin, black moustache only partially
offset. Jodie thought that he looked vaguely familiar, although she
could not imagine where she could have seen him before.
    Rodriguez glanced around the room, taking in
the two nude prisoners, one of them still naked and hanging in
chains, and the disheveled uniforms of the Military Police, without
showing the slightest sign of approval. He stared at the MP Captain
in stony silence.
    Finally the Captain said shakily, “We were
just conducting a preliminary… umm… interrogation to… uh… soften
them up for you, Major.”
    “Captain…?” Rodriguez paused, waiting for the
man to offer his name.
    “Harkness, sir,” the Captain supplied.
    “Captain Harkness,” the Major resumed in a
clear tenor. “You were ordered to arrest these two suspects and
hold them for two hours until my Bureau could take custody of them.
It was a simple assignment, one which was well within the
capabilities of a rookie MP on his first day on duty. What I find
is…” he trailed off, shaking his head, apparently at a loss for
sufficiently scathing words. “If this is your standard arrest
procedure, I can see why the Military Police have such a sterling
reputation in the law enforcement community.”
    Captain Harkness cringed under the sarcastic
lash of the Major’s tongue. “But sir, they’re only dirty traitors.
Who cares what happens to them?”
    “Have you considered the possibility that
General Lawrence and Captain Bransom might be acquitted of the
charges against them?”