We Are Them

by L. K. Samuels

  “By George!” Big Al almost choked. “You’re right. We will have less money available. That will cramp our style.” He paused and looked up. “Hmm… I’m sure I’ll figure this out. I always do. Just give me a day or two.” Big Al slapped me on the back. “You’re just too good for us, Spencer. How about a Twinkie?”

  Big Al pulled open a desk draw filled with wrapped Twinkies. He grabbed a handful and threw them on his desk. “Boy, you deserve a great treat.”

  I was not sure whether I deserved a congratulation, a treat, or the hangman’s noose.

  * * * * *

  Late that afternoon, I received a call from the city manager’s office. A secretary from City Hall informed me that Jack Bellamy, the city manager, wanted to see me. That had to be bad news. I tried to get out of the meeting, but I was told that I had little choice. I grumbled, moaned, and slammed down the phone in frustration.

  As I walked over to City Hall, I began to sweat. They must have uncovered my little covey of provocateurs. I slowed down my pace; why hurry to my own execution?

  I tried to assure myself that we had done nothing wrong. We were simply discussing the strange behavior of some Hemet citizens. We did not belong to any militant group sworn to overthrow Washington D.C.—just an informal group looking for answers. We had the First Amendment behind us. Then again, free speech and assembly were barely lawful in Hemet anymore.

  I entered City Hall, meandered down a long corridor, and entered the city manager’s office. To the left was a side door with an emergency “exit” sign above. It was so inviting. This was an emergency of epic proportions. All I had to do was mosey over to the exit door and slip the surly bonds of Hemet. I could easily vanish.

  “Sit right down here, Spencer,” Jack walked up to me and shook my hand. He gleamed with a pleasant smile. That was my first good sign. He was not Mr. Hyde today. But then again, I had another grim reminder staring at me from a dim corner—Jack’s evil sidekick, Joe Maffini, one of the more churlish councilmembers. I never did like Joe. He dressed like a Chicago gangster with baggy clothes and an unshaven face. I was always expecting him to start flipping a coin in the air like gangsters from the old black-and-white flicks. I began to perspire. They must have heard about my little meeting. They were going to fire me or maybe something worse.

  “We called you in here to discuss a delicate matter,” Jack announced, turning serious.

  “It was not my fault,” I blurted out.

  Jack stared at me for a moment, fingered his tie, and started up again. “This is a serious matter, Spencer.”

  I tried to smile confidently.

  Jack pulled closer to his desk. “We have a problem. We have discovered that some of our fine citizens are not too supportive of your department.”

  “Well, that can happen,” I said. “There’re always a few complainers who detest government officials.”

  Jack slammed his hand on the desk. “You’re damn right! But not in my town!”

  “You see, Spencer,” Joe moved into the limelight and spoke in a raspy undertone. “We have discovered certain elements, criminal elements who are dissatisfied with our administration. They have made ugly threats.”

  “Yes, well, I’m sure the police department will handle it.”

  “They will,” Jack asserted, “but they are undermanned. What I need is a sub-division at the DED that will survey those who oppose our program. All I want is to have someone to take down their names and watch them. You know, make a list and note any antisocial or rebellious activities. Nothing nefarious.”

  “They’re probably just some crackpots who live in their mother’s basement,” I said, trying to downplay their fears.

  “Their phone calls were rather explicit, Spencer,” Joe said. “They threatened to bomb City Hall unless we dismantled DED.”

  “Bomb us?”

  “Yes, that is exactly right,” Jack said. “Here we are trying to help our dear citizens and instead we have become innocent targets. We cannot permit such barbarity.”

  “How can you be sure they’re really serious? Most hotheads are usually harmless. Their bark is worse than their bite,” I said trying to bring in a sense of humor and perspective.

  Jack frowned with heavy white brows. He pulled out a shoebox, lifted it up and pulled out a metal pipe wrapped in wire. “We found this pipe bomb near City Hall this morning. Rather crude. Our explosive experts said it was so primitive that only the explosion of another bomb would set it off. Still, they will figure out how to build a better bomb. You had better believe they will. They will learn. They always do.”

  I wanted to say something to Jack about how crazy our whole program had become; that we were the ones responsible for inflaming citizens’ wrath. We were the ones interfering with people›s personal lifestyles. We drew the first blood.

  Instead, I asked, “Shouldn’t Big Al set this up?”

  “He’s too busy. Besides, he’s going to be working on a number of out-of-town projects,” Joe said. “He knows about it. He said you were the organizing backbone of his operation.”

  “But I’m busy too,” I said.

  “No problem,” Joe said. “Just appoint a head of surveillance and have him report to us each morning with a new list of suspects. I am sure this will help us all. So, get on it. We want to start this new project immediately.”

  “You can count on me,” I said as I got up, bowed slightly, and backed away.

  “And one more thing, Spencer,” Jack murmured as he glanced around to see if anyone was listening. “Let’s keep this very low-profile. No need to discuss this with anyone except Joe, your new appointee, and me. Right?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I assume Big Al is in the loop.”

  Jack glared at me. “Nobody except the people I mentioned. Like I said before, Big Al is far too busy to be bothered with such details. You understand me?”

  I nodded, turned, and walked out the front door in record time. Almost falling down the steps of City Hall, I was elated to get outside of the place and feel the fresh air. It was at this moment that I noticed something peculiarly odd. Every entrance to building was teeming with guards dressed in black military uniforms, armed with wicked-looking guns. As I continued on my way, I heard more noise from City Hall. I turned back and focused my attention on the roof. Heavily armed men ran across the rooftop, taking sniping positions. The sight was so disturbing that I accidentally walked into the street. That was a mistake.

  Before I could gather my thoughts, a new, more frightening scene confronted me. Two rows of military drummers led a parade of hundreds of heavily outfitted soldiers, decked out in green camo-clad combat uniforms. Wearing helmets and goggles, they shouldered assault rifles, all heading my way. Twenty yards behind them, rumbled dozens of armor personnel carriers, sporting .50-caliber machine guns. Thirty U.S. army trucks and umpteen jeeps soon followed.

  From across the road, I also spotted a squad of soldiers setting up dozens of large green tents in a parking lot, while military helicopters hovered overhead.

  All of this fuss over one fake pipe bomb?

  I could understand the need for a few security guards at our buildings. That was reasonable. A number of our buildings already had some type of security system. I could not blame the councilmember for upgrading our security policies. After all, it was not every day that a lunatic insisted on remodeling City Hall to a war-torn, bloodied lands architectural style. But this show of military force was off the charts.

  When I finally got to the front door of the DED building, I waved at the two men now guarding us. I did feel a little safer. However, I began to question the safety of the ordinary citizens of our town. What about them? They had no city-funded protection for their homes and offices.

  But then again, nobody was threatening them with pipe bombs.

  “This sucks way too much,” Tommy said after he rushed into my office and slammed the door. “You can’t do this!”

  “Do what?”

  “I heard tha
t you were with Jack and Joe at City Hall. That you have been given special and secret instructions.”

  “Oh, secret instructions? Really?”

  “Well,” Tommy backtracked. “They must have given you something crazy to do. That’s why they demanded an immediate audience with you. Right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Come on! Everyone saw you rush out with dread in your eyes.”

  “Fine,” I said. This was what I got every time I left my door open. I never learned.

  “So?”

  “Okay. I did get an assignment. It’s rather mundane.”

  “Nothing’s mundane anymore,” Tommy said.

  “It’s just a stupid order,” I said.

  “I bet it’s wrong, really dead-ass wrong, man.”

  “There are lots of things wrong with the world. Why should I care about this particular one? I’m getting well-paid for doing this job, and so are you.”

  “Yeah, but money isn’t everything. I mean, I know that money makes the world go around, but who wants to live on an out-of-control spinning ball?”

  “If it’s that bad, why don’t you quit?” I stared at Tommy directly for several seconds.

  He moved back. “Because I’ve got to keep an eye on you.”

  I laughed. “Listen, I’m just following orders.”

  “Like, that’s what the Nazis said at the Nuremberg trial.”

  My laughing stopped. “That’s not a fair comparison.”

  “Well?” Tommy looked at me impatiently.

  “They only hanged the leaders.”

  “So, you’re not a hangable leader?”

  I swallowed. “Ahh… I hope not.”

  “So, what’s going to happen?” Tommy peeked out through the blinds at the street below.

  “I wish I knew,” I said at first, almost forgetting about my orders to keep everything about my new mission a secret. I had told too much to Tommy or too little, I was not sure of which. I guess I had to tell someone. I still could not believe what was happening. Freud proved long ago that our subconscious mind has some type of self-protecting mechanism to hide unpleasant memories. I wished I could use it more often.

  Tommy pulled up the blinds and stared down. “Wow! A parade! That’s tight.”

  “You’re completely wrong,” I said, almost growling. “It’s an invasion. We’re becoming an armed camp.”

  Tommy’s mouth became unhinged. “Like a gulag? You’re not serious?”

  I nodded with a straight face.

  Tommy sat and rubbed his neck. “No Veteran’s Day parade?”

  “There’s no parade. No confetti. No happy marching bands. No smile faces. No waving flags. It’s not even Veteran’s Day. Someone planted a fake bomb at City Hall last night. The city has gone berserk.”

  “And they need an army for that?” Tommy leaned his head back and started to breathe deeply.

  “Listen, I still need someone to head my surveillance sub-division.”

  “Man, I need an aspirin. This really blows.”

  “Any suggestions?”

  “Yeah, how about Brian McNally?” Tommy said sarcastically. “Like he hates having his privacy invaded. Totally hates any infraction of his rights.”

  “Was he in town during the, you-know-what?”

  Tommy looked up at me. “You don’t get it, man. He’ll never take the job.”

  “Was he here or not?”

  “No, he was somewhere in the High Sierras at a Rainbow Gathering. I would have been there, but I could not get the time off. You said you needed me. Remember? Real bummer.”

  “Oh, right.” I walked over to the window and peeked from the blinds. I pondered what to do. I always had this crazy theory that the best man for any job was the one who would never take the position. It was an outrageous notion. Still, I had read that Alan Greenspan wrote many articles attacking the Federal Reserve in his youth, almost arguing for its abolishment. Later he became the FED chairman of the very same institution, and so far, he seemed to have done a halfway decent job.

  Brian was one of my better managers on the second floor. He got things done on time and within budget. His people worshiped him and showered the DED with great call-in and recovery times. I was proud of that floor’s accomplishment. Still, Brian was rather crude in his personality. He could be disagreeable, arrogantly boastful, and full of blunt language when he got up his Irish dander.

  “He’ll make a poor spymaster,” Tommy remarked.

  “I was assured that the new spy sub-division would just keep tabs on the opponents of the DED. No policy creep. Nothing more beyond what was originally specified.”

  “Like what happened to us?”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. I knew that our original project description had crashed and burned like the gas-filled carcass of the Hindenburg. Nothing I could do about that now. But if I had to set up an illegal sub-division to locate and catalog disloyal citizens, I might be able to stop it. Otherwise, I might be later known as the leading offender and spend a lifetime of regret behind bars. The big question was whether I could find someone to join my doomed rebel alliance. Then again, more importantly for me, would I do more good than bad? What a horrible life.

  “Well,” Tommy asked. “Are you going to appoint him?”

  “Maybe.” I did not see many good choices. Nearly everybody in my office had been in Hemet when that rock exploded, or whatever the thing was. Brian was apparently the only exception. He would have to do, but I wished he were not such an obsessive-compulsive perfectionist. He was a fanatical organizer and planner and excelled at nitpicking down to the last molecule. As a manager, he was supposed to delegate authority and let others worry about minor details. I had once caught him working late one night finishing a project that a subordinate failed to finish. Sure, he had missed the effects of the meteorite, but sometimes he sure acted like one of THEM.

  * * * * *

  Tommy arranged the meeting. Within an hour, Brian was knocking at my office door. I still had not decided how much information I should divulge to him. I wanted him loyal only to me, not to the crazies at City Hall. I would somehow have to let him know that I had my doubts about this new surveillance project and that we were violating the right of privacy and equal protection. However, such an acknowledgement could easily boomerang. If I dished out too much information, I might wind up at the top of his surveillance suspects list.

  “You wanted to see me?” Brian asked with a slight Irish brogue. He had lived in Ireland for several decades before settling in Hemet.

  I hesitated. I could not compose my thoughts into any meaningful order. He became impatient. I could see he was eager to get back to work.

  “I’m not sure how to say this, but the City Hall wants me to develop a new sub-division. They want someone to compile a list of anybody who fails to support our DED program.”

  “Christ! You’ve got to be jacking me off. You mean spy on citizens without their knowledge?” Brian began to move about restlessly and impatiently. “The public won’t stand for it.”

  I stared at Brian for a moment. He was far crasser than Tommy had led me to believe. “Well, yeah. But if they didn’t know about it, they wouldn’t protest. Right?” I almost felt like slapping myself. That did not come out right.

  “That’s my point! Someday they will.”

  “I know. But I have been ordered to gather information on the citizenry. It’s benign.”

  “It’s spying!”

  “Fine, it’s spying… There, it’s out. We’ll wear black spy gear, sunglasses, and soulless faces with diabolical intentions to conqueror the world.”

  Brian folded his arms.

  “City officials just want to get intelligence on those who disagree with the policies of DED. What could go wrong?”

  “It’s unconstitutional. It grates on everybody’s rights and me. I won’t do it.”

  “What if I double your current pay?”

  Brain stopped fidgeting, dropped his hands on my desk, and
glared. “You’re trying to bribe me. That you are. Don’t deny it!”

  “No, I’m offering you a promotion.”

  “Double my wages, you say.” Brian cocked his head and chuckled.

  “Yeah. This idea comes straight from our city manager.”

  “Jack Bellamy! The old colonel himself. Never trust the British. That’s what I say.”

  “Well, you’ll have to report to him daily. And select a large staff.”

  “I can see why you upped the wage. Old Fish-Eyed Jack is a sly and wily man without principles or honor. A real proper Englishman, I must say.”

  “And I will tell you this up front,” I revealed and paused. “I am not very thrilled about this project either. But if I don’t cooperate with Jack, he will hire someone else with far less integrity.”

  “I see.”

  “How about it?” I asked. I could see that Brian distrusted Jack more than I ever could. Apparently, the discord between the Irish and English was alive and well in Hemet.

  “I could use the money,” Brian whispered and appeared tempted, “but only if I don’t have to socialize with that weasel.”

  “So far, they haven’t made that mandatory. Not yet,” I said with a sly grin.

  “Fine! When do I start?”

  “Today,” I said with relief. “I want to be kept in the loop even if Jack wants to leave me in the dark. Remember, this is not supposed to be a witch-hunt. Everyone has a right to their own opinion.”

  “Agreed. I know how to handle bullies. As he keeps an eye on the public, we will keep a sharper one on him.”

  “And try to find staffers who, how do I say it, dislike their job.”

  “Oh, that won’t be a problem.”

  We shook hands again and Brian left.

  Unfortunately, I knew I was treading into unchartered territory. Everything was going to be a lot more complex. And that meant only one thing—more cooked and gooey spaghetti to gum up my life.

  Chapter 14

  The only good thing about nightmares is that they usually do not follow you out the front door and into the real world. I could not say the same of James Montgomery. After over two-month absence, he returned to my office with his new colleague, a young, medium-tall Texan with a slight drawl. At first, I was ecstatic: finally, we were going to get some attention from our national government! Unfortunately, it was the wrong type of attention. I was treated to a horror without an ending.