Чак Хоган - The Standoff

Perkins said to him across the table, “We own this mountain. The moment he indicates he’s coming out, we go to full alert and collapse in on the cabin.”

The debate went back and forth a few more times, then passed quietly, with the majority expressing confidence in the present game plan and no objections from Banish, if he was even listening. The only other point to which he spoke during the briefing was in reference to the post resolution deployment of the Marshals Service Special Operations Group for bridge barricade containment. “At no time are any shots to be fired at civilians,” he ordered. “Tear gas and baton battery if necessary, but absolutely no shooting. Make it perfectly clear to all personnel.”

No one anticipated any problems on that end. The Marshals Service SOG was well versed in riot control and crowd containment.

Perkins then directed the men and Coyle to the prospectus before them, which outlined his schedule for the dismantling of the staging area. He estimated twenty-four hours from the time of Ables’s removal until complete federal evacuation, including: transport of all hardware such as vehicles and generators; inventory and removal of reusable materials such as tents and all unused supplies; plans for the kitchens and latrines to be razed for scrap; and transportation of federal personnel to the airport, with special attention to Banish and Perkins himself, who would be flying directly to Washington, D.C., for post situation summary consults.

The protesters were expected to disperse once Ables was delivered from the cabin. By prior arrangement, the Red Cross would oversee the return of the mountain residents to their homes following the federal evacuation. No recompense was deemed necessary or was being offered to the residents by the federal government regarding either term of displacement or property damages resulting from misadventure, as per the determination of counsel for the Department of Justice.

Toward the end of Perkins’s presentation, which he had spent the better part of the night working on, Banish stood and walked out of the tent without explanation. Everyone watched him go. The county sheriff excused himself and followed shortly after.

Banish entered his office fast. He had had enough of this. He was viewing the situation much too desperately. They were his wife and daughter and he was going to call them on the telephone like anyone else. He went around to his desk and sat down and picked up the phone. He pushed a button to call the switchboard for an outside line.

Blood walked in. Banish pulled the phone away from his ear and said “What?” roughly.

Blood came forward to the desk. “The protesters are back,” he said.

Banish nodded curtly. “No miracle?”

Blood shook his head. “The problem now is, we seem to have inherited a good number of people from it. I think disappointment may have carried them over here. They’re stretched out both ways down the county road now, easily up over a thousand. They want a show, I guess. They want something.”

Banish heard a small voice talking at him through the earpiece. Kearney. He hung up the phone impatiently, his foot tapping under the desk.

Blood said, “The hardware store I told you about was broken into last night. Ransacked. Guns, knives, crossbows, over sixty pieces in all. Ammunition cleared out too.”

Banish rubbed his face hard. “Suspects?”

“Two words spray-painted over the emptied gun racks: ‘Holy War.’ ”

“ ‘Holy War,’ ” Banish said, nodding.

“Then late yesterday there was a full-fledged run on the Huddleston Dime bank. They had to lock the front door. Near riot.”

“Christ,” Banish said.

“It’s gone past any reasoning now. People are even talking about raids and invasions. Some, anyway — I’m sure others just see all this hysteria and want to make sure their money’s safe.”

Banish said, “All we have to do is hold them down below.”

“It’s exploding,” Blood said. “I understand it’s a race war now too, though I’m not quite sure how. They’ve taken Glenn Ables and they’ve fashioned him into a kind of hinge upon which all their beliefs turn. They’re preparing for a revolution.”

“That’s fine.” Banish nodded, wanting to push on.

“One more thing,” said Blood. He brought out the local paper and started to open it, then slipped it back under his arm and simply told Banish instead. “Today’s paper,” he said. “They got ahold of a courthouse copy of the letter mailed to Ables. He was right about that court date. It was a clerk’s mistake. The wrong date was on it.”

Banish looked at him a moment then. “You think he’s innocent?” he said sharply, suddenly trying to contain himself. “After all this. An illegal arms dealer. An explosives trafficker with white hate organizations. A racist. A murderer of federal agents, a shooter of police officers.”

Blood shook his head. “I think he’s guilty,” he said. “Of a lot of things. Just maybe not this.”

Banish brought his hand up near his head and squeezed a quivering fist. “Christ!” he said. He wanted to stand. “We should all just walk away, then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then why do you come to me with this? Now you’re a crusader all of a sudden?”

Blood nodded. “That I am.”

“For the guilty?”

“For what’s right. For what’s lawful. I believe we talked about this yesterday. You pretty well took me out to the woodshed, matter of fact.”

Banish nodded and said, “Fine. Just fine. And you might as well bring a hat to a man with no head. Because I have no choice in the matter now. I was put on this mountain to do a job. And I will do it, I will accomplish what I came here to achieve, goddammit — and then they can all fight it out in court. I do not care. If it all comes to nothing — then fine. Let me read about it in the papers.”

Blood nodded. “All right,” he said.

“What word do you want me to use?” Banish continued. “ ‘Misguided’? ‘Unfortunate’? ‘It’s a damn unfortunate situation’? There. Now everybody’s even. Everybody’s got a raw deal, you, me, Ables — everybody. All right? That what you wanted to hear from me?”

“I understand the situation.”

“I cannot care. That is not my job here.”

Blood was nodding. “I am with you,” he said.

Banish saw that he was protesting too much. He curtailed it with a grand shrug of his arms and hands, and Blood nodded again. “Fine, then,” Banish said. Blood nodded and went out.

Banish sat still a moment, collecting himself. “Christ!” he said. He picked up the phone and got Kearney back. “Get me an outside line,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

A dial tone came on immediately. Banish knew the long-distance number by heart. He dialed carefully. The connection went through and he switched ears, re gripping the receiver. He rubbed his itchy face. He waited through six long, empty rings until it was evident that there would be no answer. Then Coyle came in through the door flap. “Ables is on,” she said.

“Watson.” The voice sounded tired and strange.

Banish said, “Mr. Ables.”

“I don’t like that tank out there.”

Banish glanced at Fagin standing next to him. The tank was there mainly for intimidation. Fagin showed him a shrug.

“The tank,” Banish said into the handset.

“It’s too close. I know what that thing could do to my house if I leave.”

“I’ll have it moved back.”

Ables was speaking more deliberately now. “I haven’t slept much since this started,” he said.

“You didn’t sleep overnight?”

“I stayed up with my children. We prayed together. For a sign.”