Orchid Blues (20 page)

“Oh, no,” Eddie groaned.

“I told him I had been installing them, so whatever’s there has to have two batteries.”

“I’ll ask for them tomorrow,” Harry said.

“Okay,” Ham replied.

“Also, Eddie,” Harry said, “we’ve got to set up another way to communicate with Ham. He can’t keep coming here nearly every night.”

“You can ask Washington for a couple of scrambled cell phones,” Eddie said.

“Yes, I can,” Harry agreed, “and I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

Ham spoke up. “If I use a scrambled cell phone and somebody is listening on a scanner, what will they hear?”

“Nothing,” Eddie said. “It will operate on a government frequency that commercial scanners can’t detect. And even if they could, all they’d hear would be static.”

“Okay, that sounds great.”

“Ham,” Harry said, “do you think that once Eddie gets the smoke detector operating on one battery, you’ll be able to place it?”

“I don’t know,” Ham said. “That room is used a lot, so it could be tough. The good news is, there’s a smoke detector there already, so if I can replace it with ours, that should lessen the chances of someone messing with it.”

Eddie spoke up. “Before you remove the old one, be sure it’s a stand-alone, battery-operated unit, and that it isn’t hardwired into a fire and burglar alarm. If it has a wire attached that goes into the ceiling, leave it alone.”

“What about this sweeping equipment of theirs? Will it detect our unit?”

“Very unlikely,” Eddie said. “It will still be a short-range thing, and you said the room has a fairly high ceiling. And its signal is highly directional, straight up.”

“Good.”

“Harry, you want to listen to Ham’s boot?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

Eddie connected a box to the electronics in the heel and pushed a button. John’s voice, tinny but clear, came out of it. Everyone listened raptly.

“Is it all as mind-numbing as this?” Harry asked after a few minutes had passed.

“I’m afraid so. It’s straight indoctrination, although I think he’s preaching to the converted.”

The recording finished, and Eddie replaced the two memory sticks with fresh ones, then replaced the heel. “There you go.”

“You got anything else for me?” Ham asked.

“Be careful using that recorder. Save it for when you’re alone with John.”

“Okay,” Ham said. He took the altered smoke detector back from Eddie and left.

When Ham had left, Harry said, “Holly, your old man is one stand-up guy.”

“Yeah, I know,” Holly said. “That’s what I’m most afraid of.”

Forty-two

TODAY’S LESSON WAS ABOUT LOYALTY, AND HAM struggled to look interested. He was astonished that John had the wind to keep at this stuff, and he prayed for it to be over soon. His prayers were not answered until lunchtime.

“That’s it, gentlemen,” John said. “I think you understand what you’re a part of now. Any questions?”

A man raised his hand. “Just one thing I don’t understand,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“Do we have a name?”

Ham could have kissed him.

“Before I can tell you that,” John said, “there’s an oath to take. Are you ready to take it?”

There was a murmur of assent.

John turned a page of his drawing pad, and in neat block capitals was written: “I pledge that I accept the principles of The Elect wholeheartedly and without mental reservation. I pledge to advance the cause of white Christians with all the energy I possess. I vow to accept the orders of my superiors without question and to carry them out at the cost, if necessary, of my blood or my very life. If I should break these vows I understand that I am subject to swift punishment by death at the hands of my superiors. I swear all this by my sacred honor and by Almighty God.”

“Read that and think about what it means for a few minutes,” John said. He left the room and closed the door behind him.

There was perfect silence in the room. The group stared at the oath, and when Ham chanced a glance at his companions he saw tears on the cheeks of some of them.

Five minutes passed before John returned to the room. “Are you ready to take the oath?” he asked.

A chorus of affirmation rang out.

“Then repeat after me,” he said, then began reading.

The group followed him, speaking every word.

When they had finished, John took his felt marker and underlined “The Elect.” “That is our name,” he said. “We never speak it but to a man we know to be one of our number.” He ripped the pages from the drawing pad, flicked a lighter and set fire to them, dropping the flaming paper into a metal wastebasket. “I welcome you all,” John said, and began shaking their hands.

Suddenly, from over their heads, a loud beeping began. Everyone looked up. The smoke detector on the ceiling had gone off.

John led the laughing. “Ham, you know about these things. Can you turn it off ?”

“Sure,” Ham replied. He dragged a chair over and tugged at the alarm. It came away in his hand, stuck to the ceiling only by tape. “Give me a minute, and I’ll get it reset,” he said.

“Come on, men,” John said. “I’ll buy you all a beer. Ham, join us when you tame that thing.”

“Be right with you,” Ham said. He took a pen from his pocket and pretended to do something to the alarm. As soon as they left the room, he pressed the reset button and the beeping stopped. He took Eddie’s unit from his pocket, ripped off the plastic covering the tape and stuck it to the ceiling. Then he pocketed the old alarm and went to find the others. On the way, he stopped at his truck and tossed the original alarm inside.

“Thank you, Jesus,” he said aloud, as he made his way toward the picnic area.

Half an hour later, Harry was on the phone in the den of the beach house when someone turned on the radio in the living room. He covered the receiver and yelled, “Will somebody turn that goddamned thing down?”

Eddie stuck his head in the door. “Are you sure, Harry? Ham’s smoke detector just went on the air.”

“Holy shit!” He uncovered the phone. “Sorry, sir, I’ve got to run. Will you overnight that equipment to me?” He hung up without waiting for an answer and ran into the living room.

Doug and Eddie were staring at the speaker as if it were a television.

The voices were clear, except when someone mumbled.

“Everybody take the oath?” someone asked.

“Every man jack of them,” another replied.

“Ham, too?”

“You bet.”

“That man’s a real find, isn’t he?”

“Peck, you spotted him. You get all the credit for bringing him in.”

“That’s Rawlings,” Doug said.

“Is the other one John?” Harry asked.

Eddie held up a hand for quiet, then he fumbled with a tape recorder and started it.

“I think it’s time we got Ham started, don’t you?” the other man asked.

“I believe it is,” Peck replied.

“Let’s get him moved in here, then,” the other man said.

“John, I don’t know about that. He’s got a real sweet place out on the river, and he’s not going to want to leave it to move into a bunkhouse.”

“All right, feel him out about it. I don’t want to piss him off at this stage, so go gently, but he’s going to have to be in residence here before the day.”

“On the day,” Peck said.

“On the day,” John echoed.

Forty-three

HAM FINISHED HIS MARKSMANSHIP CLASS FOR the day and glanced at his watch. Nearly six. He would go straight to the beach house and see if his newly planted bug was working. He was walking toward the truck when Peck Rawlings approached.

“Well, Ham, this was quite a day.”

“It sure was, Peck, and I want to tell you I’m proud to be a part of all this. Anything you want done, you just ask.”

“How would you feel about moving out here?” Peck asked.

“Moving?” Ham was alarmed, but he took care not to sound it. “Where?”

“We’ve got a bunkhouse down in the woods there.” Peck pointed off to the south of the range. “Right along the lakeshore. It’s real comfortable.”

“Well, Peck, I’m pretty comfortable where I am,” Ham replied. “I don’t mind a little commute.”

“Sure, I understand,” Peck said. “You just stay where you are for the time being. Of course, when we start an operation, you’ll have to move out here a few days ahead of time. We don’t want anybody loose in the world who knows what we’re going to do and when.”

“Oh, sure, I understand.”

“Tell you what, you pack a duffel bag with a week’s clothes and leave it out here tomorrow. That way, if something comes up, you’ll be ready instantly.”

“I’ll do that, Peck.” He glanced at his watch. “Well, I’d better get going. I’ve got my once-in-a-blue-moon dinner with my daughter.”

Peck took his arm. “Ham, you’ve got to be careful about seeing her. John is aware that she’s … well, aware of who she is, and—”

Ham held up a hand. “Don’t worry, Peck. I’ve never said a thing to her about the group, and I never will. In fact, it occurs to me that when we do get into a project, it might be an advantage having her as a kind of personal reference. She’d say, ‘What, my daddy involved in that? That’s completely crazy,’ and they’d believe her.”

“I see your point,” Peck said. “Just be careful around her.”

“You bet I will.” Ham turned to go.

“Oh, by the way,” Peck said, stopping him with a hand on his arm. “You’ve taught your last shooting class for a while.”

“Oh? You got something else for me?”

“You better believe it,” Peck said.

“What is it?”

“Now, don’t get too curious. You’ll find that, in The Elect, you get information slowly, when your superiors think it’s necessary. I will tell you this, though. John wants you to start working on the Bar rett’s rifle first thing tomorrow morning. He wants you up to speed on that weapon in a hurry, able to hit anything from any distance.”

“I think I’ll enjoy that,” Ham said.

“See you tomorrow, then. Enjoy your dinner with your daughter.”

Ham sighed. “I’ll try,” he said.

Ham parked at Holly’s and ran all the way to the beach house next door. As he walked into the living room, Harry jumped up and hugged him.

“You did it!” he yelled gleefully. “Those sons of bitches are on the fucking air!”

Doug and Eddie were pounding on his back, congratulating him.

Holly came and put an arm around him. “My old man!” she exclaimed. “How did you ever do it?”

“You’re not going to believe it,” Ham said. “Our lessons ended this morning, and after we took the damnedest oath you ever heard, John ripped up his class notes and burned them in the trash can, and the smoke detector in the room went off. John remembered I said I’d been installing them, and he asked me to fix it.”

“And you switched detectors?”

“You bet your sweet ass I did. Have they been talking?”

“Yes,” Harry said, “and they were talking about moving you out to the lake.”

“Yeah, Peck brought that up, but he didn’t push it. He wants me to keep a week’s clothes out there, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“Something’s in the wind, some sort of operation.”

“Any clues?”

“Not really, but John wants me to start training on the Barrett’s rifle tomorrow morning.”

“Damn,” Harry said. “What the hell are they going to do with that thing?”

“When I find out, I’ll let you know,” Ham said.

“I think this is a scary development,” Holly interjected. “The idea that they might actually shoot that gun at something or somebody is terrifying.”

“Tell me about this oath,” Harry said.

“Well, it pretty much called for me to hand them my ass on a platter, and if I do something they don’t like, they have my permission to shoot me.”

“Swell,” Holly said.

“Harry, did you get the scrambled cell phone?”

“It’ll be here tomorrow morning, and you can pick it up tomorrow evening.”

“I’m getting to the point where I really want a way to communicate,” Ham said.

“Well,” Eddie put in, “you can always go into Peck’s study and talk to the ceiling. We’ll be listening.”

“Are you getting real-time transmissions?”

“As far as we know,” Eddie said. “Who knows what those spooks at NSA are doing with this stuff. There may be some sort of delay piping down here to us.”

“Can we find out? That’s something I’d really like to know.”

“I’ll try,” Harry said, “but those boys and girls don’t talk much.”

“Who else is hearing it besides us?” Doug asked.

“Hell, I don’t know,” Harry replied. “They could be playing it in the NSA cafeteria, for all I know. My guess would be that the attorney general is getting at least a digest of what’s being said, and certainly, the director, but I asked for it to be as closely held as possible.”

“Oh, by the way, the group has a name.”

“What is it?”

“The Elect, and by telling you, I’ve just made myself eligible for a bullet in the brain.”

“We came up with that name in the militia database. Now, who wants pizza and who wants Chinese?”

Forty-four

THE FOLLOWING MORNING HAM PACKED A LARGE duffel with clothing, including several fatigue shirts. He was going to have to sew that microphone button on a different shirt every day, he reflected. He had grown to hate and fear the recorder in his boot. It was too damn hard to turn on and off, and it had already nearly gotten him caught. He wished he had complained about it to Harry and made them get him something simpler to use. He resolved not to use it again, unless he absolutely had to.

He packed his cell phone and charger into the duffel, and as an afterthought, included a bottle of Wild Turkey. He had a feeling he was going to need a drink every now and then, if he had to start living with those people.

He drove out to the lake and found Peck.

“I expect you want to draw the Barrett’s rifle and some ammo,” Peck said.

“Right.”

“Follow me.” Peck led the way into the house, to an innocuous-looking door that turned out to lead to a cellar. Cellars weren’t big in Florida, and Ham thought they must have gone to a lot of trouble to waterproof it.