Stuart Woods Holly Barker Collection

by Stuart Woods

  “Hurry.”

  Ham trotted back to the truck, removed the smoke detector from its box and stuck it in the pocket of his fatigues. Then he retrieved the tiny screwdriver, inserted it into the heel of his boot and gave it a quarter turn. He started back toward the house. “Okay, I’m recording,” he said. “Peck has sent me to class.” He stated the date and time.

  Ham entered the house and walked to the study. The other students, half a dozen of them, were scattered around the room, and John was standing before them. “Morning, Ham,” he said. “Take a pew.”

  Ham found a chair and got set to listen.

  “Now,” John said, “we’re going to talk about the group and the things we believe in. I know you’re all new to the group, but we’ve taken a close look at each of you, and you wouldn’t be in this room if we didn’t think you believe what we believe.”

  Ham listened as John launched into a quiet diatribe that seemed to include every crazy thing he’d ever heard about fringe militia groups. John covered all the bases—hatred of blacks, Jews and homosexuals, hatred of the government, hatred of anybody who didn’t share the group’s views. Ham was bored stiff, and he took the opportunity to look around the room, especially the ceiling. He wanted to get the smoke detector up and running as soon as possible. Then he suddenly snapped back to attention. John was talking about surveillance.

  “We’re very careful about being listened in on,” John was saying. “The government gets better and better at watching over people’s lives, especially people who despise them, as we do. You shouldn’t have realized it, but each of you has been swept for bugs every day you’ve been here, and every room in this compound is swept every day. That’s so that we and you can know that we can speak freely to each other without having to worry about some spook listening in on us. Believe me, our antisur veillance techniques are just as good as their ability to bug us. In fact, Peck is standing at the back of the room there. Sweeping each of us right this minute.”

  Ham looked over his shoulder and saw Peck standing by the door, holding a small black box with an extended antenna. He felt sweat break out in his armpits. Surreptitiously, he took out the little screwdriver, crossed his ankle over the other knee and rested his hand on his boot, trying to look as relaxed as possible. Staring hard at John, he got the screwdriver into the heel of his boot and switched off his recorder, then he crossed his legs in the opposite direction and pocketed the screwdriver.

  Peck was walking slowly around the room now, waving the antenna.

  “You got something, Peck?” John asked.

  “I did for a minute,” Peck said. “Then it went away. Just a small surge, but definite.”

  “All right everybody,” John said, “we’re now going to show you just how careful we are. Stand up and line up against the wall over there.”

  Everybody did as instructed.

  Peck went down the line and, one by one, had each man extend his arms away from his body, then swept the antenna over his clothing. Ham was third in line, and he watched out of the corner of his eye while Peck did his work. Finally, Peck was in front of him, and he gave Ham a wink that said, “Don’t worry pal, this is just for show.”

  Ham hoped to God that turning off the recorder in his heel also turned off the microphone in his button, because if it didn’t, he was about to be nailed. He began thinking about how fast he could get out of there and to his truck, and the answer he came up with was, Not fast enough.

  Peck went up and down the top and bottom of each of Ham’s arms, then his legs and crotch. “I’m not feeling you up, Ham,” he said, “it’s just that undercover cops just love to hide bugs in their crotches.”

  “Don’t worry, Peck. You’re not my type anyway.”

  Everybody laughed.

  Peck then moved the antenna to the top of his head and worked his way down both sides of his torso. Ham turned to allow him to sweep his back. Peck moved on to the waist, paying particular attention to Ham’s belt buckle, then, as he started up the torso, the black box beeped. “What you got in that pocket, Ham?” Peck asked, pointing.

  Ham reached into his pocket and produced the smoke detector.

  John walked over and took it from him. “What’s this?”

  “A smoke detector,” Ham said. “I was putting some up last night, and I guess I forgot about that one.”

  John unscrewed the two halves of the detector and looked inside. “Two batteries,” he said. “That’s unusual.”

  “Is it?” Ham replied. “First ones I ever had anything to do with.”

  John motioned with his head for Peck to sweep the smoke detector, and Peck complied. A tiny beep came from the black box.

  “Interesting,” Peck said.

  “Not really,” John replied. “You’ve got some electronics in there, and the batteries. You sometimes get a reaction from small devices, even when they’re not transmitting.” He handed the smoke detector back to Ham. “Let’s get this finished up, Peck, and get back to our class. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

  Ham stuck the smoke detector back into his pocket and tried not to look relieved.

  Forty-one

  HAM ENTERED THE BEACH HOUSE, AND FOR once, no one was eating.

  “Ham, I don’t know if you should be here every night,” Harry said.

  “I had a close call today, and I want to talk about it.”

  “What happened, Ham?” Holly asked.

  “I found out that they have been sweeping the place, and not just the place, but people, too. Can they do that without anyone knowing?”

  Eddie shrugged. “It could be done, but they’d need some pretty sophisticated equipment. Somebody could carry around a small sweeper in his pocket that would signal if he got close to somebody wearing a transmission device.”

  “I’m glad I haven’t been wearing anything up to now.”

  “Ham, tell us what happened,” Holly insisted.

  Ham told them about the lecture and Peck’s sweeping of the participants. “I managed to turn off the thing in my heel,” he said, getting his foot out of the boot and handing the shoe to Eddie. “When it’s off, does the button emit any signals?”

  “No,” Eddie said, working to remove the heel from the boot. “When you turn it on, it activates the button microphone.”

  “Their sweeper beeped when Peck got to me,” Ham said. “They found the smoke detector.”

  Everybody stared at Ham aghast.

  “Then how did you get out?” Harry asked.

  “I walked out, like always. John examined the thing and said it was a smoke detector. He noticed the two batteries, though.”

  “Did he question that?”

  “No, but now you’re going to have to do two things,” Ham said.

  “What?”

  “Eddie, first you’re going to have to take one of the batteries out.”

  “But that will half the transmission time,” Eddie protested.

  “I don’t care. I’m not going to put this thing up while it’s got two batteries in it. John has seen the insides of it, and if, for any reason, they should pull it down and it has two batteries, then I’m gone.”

  “Do it, Eddie,” Harry said. “And right now. What’s the second thing, Ham?”

  Ham handed the smoke detector to Eddie, who went to work on it. “You’ve got to give me some smoke detectors with two batteries that I can install at my house.”

  “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 sp
oke 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.