William Bernhardt - Perfect Justice

“The trial is over. Or all but.”

“Yes, but—”

“Look, Ben, I still don’t like this a bit. Taking this case was sheer stupidity on your part. And just when I thought you were starting to treat me like an equal partner, you blow me off and decide to represent the local fascist! I didn’t understand that at all. I still don’t.” She paused. “But I won’t let you get yourself killed.”

Ben bit down on his lip. He wasn’t going to spoil the occasion by asking more inane questions. “You know, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of this myself.”

“Yeah, right. Let’s just get on with it.”

“Those men in the garage are the ones who’ve been terrorizing Coi Than Tien.”

“Thanks. I figured that much out for myself.”

“I wish I had brought a camera.”

“And you think you’re perfectly capable of taking care of this yourself.” She opened her satchel and pulled out Jones’s hand-size video camera. “Here, 007. It’s all charged and ready to go.”

“Will it shoot in the dark?”

“Well enough. It has a high lux rating.”

Ben took the camera and crept back to the garage door. After taking about a minute’s worth of footage, he decided he had enough to put them away for a good long time.

“Follow me.” Ben led her to the back of the church.

“Surely we’re not going to walk in the backdoor.”

“No, we’re not.” He stopped in front of the sheet-metal cellar doors.

“This big meeting is being held in the cellar?”

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Ben opened one of the double doors and stepped down a ladder within.

The room at the bottom was not well lit, but there was enough spillover that Ben could tell this was more than an ordinary cellar. The walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were filled with papers, plans, and photographs.

“What is this?” Christina whispered.

“Unless I miss my guess, this is the real ASP war room. Where all the nasty plans are made. They probably moved all the incriminating material here so the DA wouldn’t find it when he searched the camp. Or maybe it was always here. Much closer to Coi Than Tien, after all.”

Christina pointed toward an open doorway. There was some sort of murmuring noise from the next room. Singing? No— chanting.

“Is that where the big meeting is?” she asked.

“Let’s find out.”

Holding his breath and stepping as lightly as possible, Ben passed through the doorway into the next room.

The immediate increase in lighting was blinding at first. This was a much larger room. Ben saw a sign that identified it as FELLOWSHIP HALL. How ironic. He realized they were still below ground level; that’s why the lights were not visible from outside.

ASP was congregated at the other end of the hall, huddled in a circle around a long table. Grand Dragon Dunagan stood behind the table in full ASP regalia.

Ben and Christina crept forward and hid behind a tall stack of boxes containing bottled water. They were still out of the ASPers’ sight, but close enough to hear what was going on.

Ben poked his head cautiously around the side of the boxes. Fortunately all the ASP men’s eyes were trained on Dunagan.

“Has the jury returned a verdict?” Dunagan asked, in deep, solemn tones.

What was this? Had the jury returned while he was out creeping through the forest?

“We have.” One of the ASP men approached. Ben could see that he was standing to one side with eleven others. Dunagan wasn’t talking about the Vick trial jury; he was talking about a jury of his own.

The man handed Dunagan a small scrap of paper. Dunagan read it, smiled, then crumpled it in his fist. “The jury finds Donald Vick guilty in absentia of high treason.”

The crowd cheered. After thunderous applause and shouting they fell into a chant. “Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood! ” they shouted, fists raised in the air.

“Donald Vick has committed the cardinal sin,” Dunagan proclaimed. “Treason against ASP. For reasons entirely his own, he betrayed us all, disregarding his oath and performing acts at odds with our hallowed goals. His name shall be stricken from the rolls of ASP. It shall be as if he was never there. He is dead.”

More cheers. Dunagan’s last words echoed in Ben’s ears. He wondered if that was a proclamation, or a prediction.

Ben slapped his forehead. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

Christina frowned. “What?”

“I should’ve been taping this whole disgusting assembly. Hand me the camcorder.”

“Let this be a warning to all our enemies,” Dunagan cried out. His voice soared in pitch and volume. “ASP will mete out retribution to those who oppose us, whether they lie without or within.”

“Blood, blood, blood ,” the ASP men chanted. “Death, death, death!

The cry filled the room, so loud it made Ben’s bones shake. He gripped the camera tightly and tried to prevent his trembling from spoiling the picture.

“They certainly have esprit de corps, don’t they?” Christina whispered.

“Too much for my taste.”

Dunagan continued his sermon. “Those who challenge us will perish as surely as all the godforsaken nonwhite races will die in the flames of Christ’s fiery sword. We have slaughtered our enemies before. And we shall do so again.”

This time the chanting persisted for more than a full minute. Ben swept the room with his camera, trying to make sure everyone got in the picture. Say cheese, ASP.

Dunagan raised his right hand, and his followers quickly did the same. He began to recite, and every man in the room joined him. They all knew it by heart.

“I am an Aryan. I serve the forces that guard my Aryan race. I am prepared to give my life in defense of my race.”

Their voices swelled, chanting in unison. “I am an Aryan. I will never betray other Aryan people. I will fight the enemies of the Aryan race with my dying breath. I will never surrender.

“I am an Aryan,” they continued. “If I am incarcerated, I will remember at all times my duty as an Aryan. As a political prisoner of war, I will answer only with my age, name, and address when questioned. I will resist any activity harmful to the Aryan race. I will obey the orders of my superior officers at all times.”

The oath continued for three more verses, followed by cheers and shouts. Ben kept the camera rolling. Finally Dunagan waved down the noise. “You may also wish to know that tonight’s incursion against the infidels at Coi Than Tien was a complete success.”

Another spontaneous cheer, raising the rafters. Ben began to fear the meeting would disintegrate into a riot.

“Every time we act, our enemies become a little weaker, a little less able to resist. Soon they will give up, recognizing defeat. They will leave this place to the Anglo-Saxon races to whom it rightfully belongs. Tonight’s operation went entirely as planned, according to my orders.”

Ben gripped the camera all the tighter, focusing tightly on Dunagan’s face. Thank you for the confession, Mr. Grand Dragon. I think you just said enough to get yourself convicted of felony murder.

Ben was so focused on Dunagan’s confession he didn’t hear the sneakered footsteps approaching behind him.

“Intruder!” The shout was long and loud, silencing the assembly.

A pair of hands thudded down on Ben’s shoulders, causing him to drop the camera. He tried to break away, but another pair of hands twisted his arms tightly behind his back.

“Christina! Run!”

Too late. They had her. One of them grabbed her satchel, another had an arm around her neck. She fought and kicked, but it was no use. They were much too powerful for her.