by Rounds, Mark
Connor looked over at Ms. Crowley who looked very pale but was conscious. The school nurse arrived and was just easing her into a prone position when the police and the ambulance came.
Just as Connor started to relax, two policemen tackled him and took him to the ground. He was startled and surprised as they read him his Miranda Rights.
Chapter 5
May 9th, Monday, 3:35 pm PDT
Chad was at his desk when his cell phone rang. It was Connor and he sounded very stressed. His boss, Dr. Jurgen was in Chad’s office and they were going over the latest estimates from the European epicenters as he talked and only heard Chad’s side of the conversation.
“Yes Connor, this is dad.”
“Police station!? When?!”
“Are you hurt?”
“What about the other boy?”
“Under arrest? What is going on?”
Hello, hello, Damn cell phone coverage!”
“Sir, this probably not a good time, but I have to go downtown,” said Chad closed the phone and looked at his boss. “My son was involved in some sort of fight at school and he is under arrest. Apparently, the other boy is injured or something.”
“I understand,” said Dr. Jurgen. “But just a minute before you go.”
Dr. Jurgen opened his own phone and selected a number from his contacts, and initiated a call.
“Clinton, this is Dr. Jurgen. Can you break away for the rest of the day? I have something a little out of the ordinary.”
It took Clinton five minutes to get to Chad’s office. Those five minutes dragged out for an eternity while Chad, who desperately needed to get to his son, waited.
“Ah Clinton, thank you for coming so promptly,” said Dr. Jurgen. “Chad’s son has had an issue with the law. I need Chad back in the office with all of his faculties focused on our problem. Could you please go with him to the police station and help him straighten this out? Do whatever legalistic voodoo you have to but get Chad back here tomorrow with no concerns, got it?”
“Of course,” said Clinton. “Dr. Riley said I might be on tap for something like this. I have met your young man Chad, and I find it improbable that he has broken the law in any serious way. We will take my car. It’s a bit more impressive than your old Subaru and in this case, appearances will matter.”
“One moment,” said Dr. Jurgen who handed Chad a new ID. “I was going to give you this after our meeting but this seems appropriate and you might be able to use it to your advantage. You have been recalled temporarily to active duty. So has Colonel Taylor here.”
Chad looked at the ID. It said Captain Strickland, Special Agent OSI. The photo was current.
“Who did this? And ‘Colonel’ Taylor?” Chad said.
“Yes, apparently you have a friend. Colonel Antonopoulos cooked this up with General Buckley. You are going to need access to military data to keep doing your job. This is a neat way to reactivate your clearance. Colonel Antonopoulos said you weren’t to worry, there was no additional commitment and the term of service is at his discretion.”
“But Colonel Taylor?” said Chad who could only picture the corporate counsel as legal eagle.
“Lieutenant colonel actually” said Clinton with a smile. “It will interest to you to know that back in Desert Storm, I was a young major and the Executive Officer of the 1st battalion, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division. I retired and went to law school. I get bored easily.”
“OK, sure,” said Chad who was still in shock. “We still do need to get to my son.”
May 9th, Monday, 4:05 pm PDT
Chad and Clinton arrived at the police station and headed inside. Chad had spent little time dealing with the police and was unfamiliar with the procedure but Clinton knew just where to go. They walked to the information desk.
“Sergeant, my client is Connor Strickland and I am here to meet with him,” said Clinton in a friendly and confident voice.
“We don’t have any record of …”
“Young man, I have been retained by the boy’s father, Captain Strickland, as his attorney. He called Captain Strickland,” said Clinton gesturing towards Chad, “in my presence. I further took the liberty of calling Lieutenant Davis, who is in your juvenile division. He is in custody. Chad, show him your ‘military ID’.”
Chad flashed his new credentials.
“I’ll have to call …” began the man behind the desk.
“Don’t bother, I will,” said Clinton as he pulled out his cell phone and punched up number he had on quick dial. “Lieutenant Davis, Clinton Taylor here. I have Connor Strickland’s father, Captain Strickland, with me and we are downstairs. We would like to …”
“No we won’t come back later.”
“I don’t care if Homeland Security is involved …”
“Please put Mr. Macklin on the phone. If he says he is too busy, then tell him my next call is to General Buckley.”
There was a short wait.
“Mr. Macklin this is …” said Clinton but apparently he was cut off.
“Actually, it is Colonel Taylor now,” he continued.
“Given five minutes, we can call your bluff on any national security clearance you care to trump up.”
“He hung up on me!” said Clinton with a look of disbelief. “Chad, call your friend Colonel Antonopoulos and tell him …”
“There is no need for that,” said Macklin obviously hurrying around the corner. “I know we don’t get along, but what we are doing is absolutely vital to …”
“Ah, Lieutenant Davis,” said Clinton completely ignoring Macklin. “I would like to see my client.”
“Mr. Macklin here says that he can question a minor suspect without an attorney or parental permission,” said Lieutenant Davis who was following the Homeland Security Agent.
Clinton looked over at Davis and said, “I would like to see my client please. I have been retained by his father and he has yet to give his permission for you to question his son …”
“We don’t need that in this case …” began Macklin.
“I may be just a country lawyer from rural Washington,” said Clinton talking, loudly over Macklin, “but in this state, when a minor is in custody, the parents should be notified. In this case, he was allowed to call his parents but the call was interrupted …”
“We follow proper procedure here despite …” began Davis.
“We needed to question him without …” said Macklin.
Clinton put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loud enough to burst eardrums.
“I will see my client now,” said Clinton into the silence that followed.
“I can’t allow it,” said Macklin recovering first.
“Mr. Macklin,” said Clinton in a low menacing voice, “it will be my happy privilege to sue you, pro bono, for every dime you have once this is over.”
“You can’t sue me, I am working for the Department of Homeland Security,” said Macklin gloating.
“On the contrary,” said Macklin, “I am absolutely certain that the Department of Homeland Security has very clear procedures that you must follow when questioning anybody. As soon as you exceed those procedures, and it is my opinion that you have, I can and will sue you personally, not the Department. I may not win, but you will be in court until you retire or I die. Your department may hire counsel for you, but they might just throw you under the bus and call you a rogue operator. It’s been done before. Do you want to try me?”
The silence stretched out. You could almost hear Macklin sweating. Clinton never blinked and his cold blue eyes never left Macklin’s.
“Nobody is suing anybody,” said Davis breaking the spell. “As I was trying to say before I was so rudely interrupted, we follow proper procedures here despite what some people would want.”
Davis glared for a moment at Macklin and then continued, “If I read this correctly, Captain Strickland, your son was arrested as part of the standard response to an altercation with a deadly weapon.
Both parties are always arrested. He was read his Miranda Rights and offered a phone call which I understand he made to you. Mr. Macklin then took the phone from your son before the call was complete and we were discussing ‘proper procedure’ when you arrived. Your son is unharmed and he has not been questioned.”
“Thank you Tom,” said Clinton looking gratefully at Captain Davis. “I know you run a good shop. I will see my client now.”
Lieutenant Davis led them to the holding area. Before they got there, they could hear someone shouting. They weren’t using any words, just a primal scream followed by ragged breathing and then more screaming. There were a number of cells in the room they entered. To Chad’s relief, his son Connor was in the nearest one. His nose had been bloodied and poorly cleaned up and there was blood on his shirt but he looked OK. He smiled when he saw his dad.
In the next cell was a young man in a straightjacket and he was the one screaming. Chad was alarmed when he saw the blood seeping through the jacket. His skin was pale and he was sweating profusely.
“Connor, are you OK?” asked Chad nervously as he got close. There was blood on his shirt and his lip looked somewhat swollen.
“Yeah, getting arrested hurt more than the fight,” said Connor ruefully.
Just then an ear piercing scream came from the next cell. Two EMT’s were trying unsuccessfully to treat the young man in the straightjacket.
“That’s Jerry Kirkland,” said Connor answering one of his dad’s unasked questions.
“Is he always like that?” asked Chad.
“He’s a stoner and a bit of a bully but not like that.”
There was a crash as Jerry had apparently used his legs to push himself up against the bars and then had lunged at the EMTs, attempting to bite them as he went down. Something clicked in Chad’s mind.
“Get out of the cell!” shouted Chad.
The EMT’s looked at him with alarm and confusion.
“Clinton, this guy has it. He has AH10N3.”
“Now we can’t be sure …” began Macklin who had trailed along.
“You bastard!” shouted Chad at Macklin. “Were you born this dumb or did you have to study?! How did you know the boys were here? There is blood and all sorts of other bodily fluids all over the floor and his straight jacket is soaked. He is a huge infection risk!”
“We have to keep this quiet!” shouted Macklin as he grabbed for Chad’s shirt. Chad grabbed Macklin’s index finger and twisted it in a direction it was not meant to go. Macklin howled and then with an ugly smile, tried to punch Chad. Chad easily blocked the punch and stepped past the Homeland Security Agent placing his foot behind Macklin’s and then just pushed with his hand in the middle of Macklin’s chest. Macklin’s smile turned to alarm as he stumbled back. Chad grabbed Macklin’s throat and jacket and slammed him hard against the concrete wall opposite the cells.
“I should just toss you in there with him! You knew he was infected didn’t you? You’ve got some sort of deal to be called when anyone comes in with symptoms don’t you? Don’t you see that you are risking everyone else’s life here?”
Chad tossed him aside and looked at Lieutenant Davis.
“Davis or whatever your name is, this kid is infected with AH10N3. The disease is one hundred percent fatal. Please, clear this place out and boil it. I can’t guarantee that there haven’t been any secondary infections even with those precautions.”
“Macklin said it could only be transmitted by bodily fluids, we were using standard AIDS protocols …”
“You should be beginning to realize that Macklin is a horse’s ass!” said Chad hotly. “Current infection vectors include skin to skin contact and contact with surfaces previously touched by infected individual’s bodily fluids which appears to be most of that cell. I should know, I am the guy on TV, the one they call the ‘Dead Head’ remember?”
“Lieutenant Davis, I want that man arrested for …” began Macklin.
“Mr. Macklin, I would be quiet were I you,” said Davis evenly. “Based on your actions and if what Captain Strickland says is true, I can think of half a dozen charges to bring you up on. Then there is the little matter of assaulting a federal officer if I heard you correctly referred to as Captain Strickland? It’s out of my jurisdiction but I would happily be a witness in such a situation.”
Davis turned away from Macklin, effectively dismissing him and spoke to Chad’s lawyer.
“Clinton, I seem to remember this gentleman on TV, is this true?”
“Well, he is the analyst whose work initiated the current travel restrictions,” said Clinton blandly, “but far be it from me to tell you what to do in your shop.”
“Right, Mr. Macklin, please wait in my office, I am not finished with you,” said Davis
“And I’m not through with you either Strickland!” said Macklin and he was gone before Chad could frame a reply.
Davis turned to the EMTs who were now out of the cell watching events unfold. “Gentlemen, I suspect this is above your pay grade. Perhaps you should call it in?”
One of the EMTs began fumbling with his radio.
Then Davis looked over at the jailer who had come from behind his desk with a Taser.
“Sam, put that away and get some help down here. We need to start moving the prisoners over to county. Follow the new infection protocol; strip them all down and put them in coveralls. Then boil everything like Dr. Strickland says.”
He then turned to Chad.
“Dr. Strickland, I am sorry, but I still have to question your son. You and Clinton are welcome to be present but I must ask that only your son and Clinton be allowed to speak.”
“Tom, I find your candor refreshing,” said Clinton
“Chad,” said Clinton kindly. “We still have to let this man chat with your son, however I think we can now do it civilly and get him home in time for supper.”
May 9th, Monday, 7:55 pm PDT
It had taken rather longer than Clinton had said, but they did take Connor’s statement, then they had to go bring in Amy and get things corroborated. Chad walked into the house and saw Mary. She ran to his arms.
“Is Connor OK?” she asked. “I got just the one call from you and then …”
Connor walked into the room in an orange prison jump suit.
“What happened to you?” said a stunned Mary.
“Honey, it’s OK,” said Chad. “Connor was exposed to the same thing you were and they took his clothes and disinfected him, but he is fine.”
“And you, you’re in your gym clothes! Did you …”
“I was exposed briefly and they did the same to me. Luckily, I had my gym bag at the office. You remember Clinton Taylor?”
“The attorney we met at the Christmas Party? He was a nice old gentleman.”
“He was wearing a $1,200 Armani suit and they sent him home in paper clothes.”
“But what …”
“It’s a bit complex Mary but …”
“I have time!” said Mary.
“OK, first off, I am proud of our son,” said Chad patting Connor on the shoulder. “Some kids his age would have panicked or gotten belligerent, he tried to stop the fight, walked away, and then only applied enough force to keep it under control. Sensei Norman would be proud.”
“Who was fighting?” asked Mary as she calmed down.
“Jerry Kirkland,” said Connor. “He was trying to get at Amy through me.”
“Little Amy Howeland from across the street?”
“Mom,” said Connor with exasperation, “she is taller than you are!”
“The Howeland’s are good folks,” said Mary, “but Christi Howeland didn’t like the new boy Amy was going out with.”
“That was Jerry, I didn’t like him either but …”
“Christi keeps saying that you and Amy should go out. You have known each other for years.”
“Mother! That would be like kissing my sister,” said Connor rolling his eyes.
“Ewwww,” said Fiona fr
om the kitchen, “I’d rather kiss a toad.”
“If I could bring myself to kiss you, I would be kissing a toad,” said Connor loudly, grateful for the diversion.
“Time out you two,” said Chad. “The upshot of this is Connor is suspended from school for the next three days as school policy is that anyone in a fight is suspended.”
“That’s not right,” said Mary getting her Irish up. “Connor was doing the right thing and …”
“Mary,” said Chad raising his hand to forestall further discussion, “I agree with you and under normal circumstance, I would go to battle with you, but, with your permission, I think we ought to go with it.”
“Why?”
“This is three cases locally in less than a week. Schools are the next big vector. I suspect, and in fact, I will recommend that schools be closed until this passes, not that they have listened to me much lately. It will take a couple of days and I suspect Connor will be safer here helping Dave than he would be at school.”
“But Fiona?” asked Mary.
“We should take her out of school as well. I hadn’t thought about this because stuff was just coming so fast. We also need to be careful when we are out in public too.”
Chad looked over at Fiona who had now come in from the kitchen and was listening to the conversation.
“Young lady,” he continued, “can you and your brother not tear down the house while your mother and I are at work?”
“I won’t be at work,” said Mary quietly. “I’ve been laid off.”
“What happened?”
“Heather and I showed up like usual, but Mike, the business manager met us at the door. He said the whole catering side of the business has been shut down by the health department and so has the tasting room. He said they were only going to run the wine making side until everything was bottled and then that was going to shut down too.
