Into the Guns by William C. Dietz Page A

even went so far as to raise the possibility of secession! Was it vote-getting rhetoric? Or the real deal? It was impossible to tell from where he was. One thing was for sure, however: The person or persons in charge of Godbee’s “repository” wanted to keep him in the loop.
Why?
    Sloan put the papers aside to finish his meal. The food was cold by then, but he ate it anyway, and was polishing his plate with a chunk of corn bread when Molly came around to collect it.
    The next three days were spent eating his fill, getting a lot of sleep, and watching Godbee’s “ladies” come and go. During that time, Sloan was careful to follow every order they gave him without offering any pushback. The plan was to convince them that he wasn’t a threat. Then, on the fourth day, Sloan made his move. He had chosen to escape at dinnertime, when there would be only a few hours of daylight remaining. That would help him to hide.
    That was the theory, anyway. Although Sloan was well aware that the swamp was full of creatures that could find him even if humans couldn’t! Still, he preferred to take that risk rather than sitting around waiting for who knows what.
    So there he was, hiding behind the hatch when Molly pushed it open. She was holding the dinner tray with both hands. And as Molly entered the cabin, she could see that the bathroom door was ajar and hear the rush of water in the shower. That was the same scenario she’d seen for the past two days, except that Sloan wasn’t in the bathroom this time.
    Lucy followed Molly into the room. She was carrying the Taser barrel up as usual. Sloan brought the toilet seat up and around. It glanced off the side of Lucy’s head, and the force of the impact knocked her down.
    One down and one to go! Sloan felt a sudden surge of confidence as he went after Molly. But, as fast as he was, Molly was evenfaster. The spin kick struck Sloan’s right temple and sent him reeling. He was still trying to recover his balance when a flurry of kicks and blows put him down. So there he was, lying on his back, when Lucy loomed over him. Blood ran down the side of her face—and the Taser was pointed at his chest. “No!” Sloan croaked. “Don’t . . .”
    Lucy smiled as she pulled the trigger. Sloan jerked spasmodically as fifty thousand volts of electricity surged through his nervous system and caused his muscles to lock up. Then, as he lay helpless, the ladies began to kick him. The blows continued even as the effects of the Taser began to wear off. Sloan saw Molly pull her foot back, and saw the boot come at him, but that was all. The world ceased to exist.
    FORT HOOD, TEXAS
    The Concho sanction had been successful if somewhat messy, and there had been little to no blowback thanks to the efforts of a New Order sympathizer inside the
Dallas Morning News
. Her header read: “Gang-style massacre in Richardson.” And that was enough to point most people in the wrong direction.
    Now, as Victoria drove south on Interstate 35, she saw a steady stream of National Guard vehicles going the other way. There were trucks loaded with troops, platoons of Strykers, and tank transporters all headed north where they had orders to “restore law and order.” But, depending on how things went politically, Victoria knew there might be more to it than that. Much more.
    After passing through Temple and Killeen, Victoria arrived in Fort Hood. Rather than stop by her condo, she drove straight to the base. The traffic lights were working, which meant that the power was on. And no wonder since the base had a very high priority.
    Victoria was dressed in civilian clothes. But, when the corporal on the gate saw the sticker on the BMW’s windshield, he threw Victoria a salute. “Good afternoon, ma’am . . . ID please.” After comparing the picture on the card to her face, the corporal waved her through.
    Victoria had been