Chapter 1 Can be Found: https://steemit.com/fiction/@andrewgenaille/hunting-indians-chapter-one
Chapter 8 can be Found at: https://steemit.com/fiction/@andrewgenaille/hunting-indians-chapter-8
9. Chapter 9
Peter spent the morning in his cell counting the tiles on the ceiling several times. There was only one. His room was seven by eight feet with a metal bed frame and one foam mattress. There was metal toilet and one roll of toilet paper. The sink on the wall had a stack of five paper cups on it as if he knew how to use a metal cup to kill himself with.
He was stretched out on the bed dressed in grey coveralls that were too small, strategically tight in places to keep him from running or moving his arms too much. He moved his hands around slowly in front of him, looking at how his fingers were individually wrapped in gauze while his feet were wrapped so it looked like he was wearing large socks. He had more gauze inside his mouth where three of his molars were removed. Every once in awhile he would test talking. He thought he sounded drunk.
"You come to me, on this day of my daughter’s wedding..." He smirked, an old movie he watched when his parents snuck him and his sisters into town for a medical check up. There was a nice doctor who knew what would happen to him if he were found to be helping Indians, but still took the risk. Peter wondered where he was now. The last time he saw him Peter was twelve.
Maybe he ended up in a room like this?
He wondered if that's why he was more optimistic than Karen. He grew up in the forest like her but he grew up smuggled into civilization where he met good people, people that were still willing to fight the system. She did have fifteen years on him. She was old enough to know what was happening during the major uprisings. At forty-one she would've been twenty when the shit hit the fan. She would've seen first hand the horrible things people were capable of.
He was seeing that now, but unlike her, Peter had hope. Maybe because he was looking for it, or maybe it was the fact he had hope he could see it for what it was.
The pharmacist popped into Peter's head. The elder man in a white lab coat, Peter struggled to remember his name and came up with Steve. Then there was Bob the border guard. He gave Peter a pack of gum when he crossed back into Canada. But it was Bill that really sold him on the idea this world could be saved.
The day they came back to Canada, Peter was in the living room of Bill’s house when the elder man approached him. Peter had taken an interest in the family portraits on the wall, simple pictures of kids and happy times.
"Heather phoned. She should be here soon." Bill had told him. Peter nodded and Bill saw where he was looking. "That's my family. Five kids, eleven grand kids."
"They look happy."
"Yup, doing well. I talk to most of them on the skype. You ever get six or seven people talking on that thing at once?" Bill watched Peter shake his head. "No sorry. Hell, I can't keep up. I just sit there and listen."
"That's nice."
Bill nodded. He took a breath. "You know I'm going to tell you something. Goes back a few years. I was a young man, nineteen. Just joined the Marine Corp." Bill showed him a picture on the wall of a kid in uniform. "There was a war going on back east, out in the desert. My brothers and I got shipped to the front. One of us was this little guy, five foot six, maybe five foot seven, Indian. Dark as you and told us he was Navajo. He name was Travis. Quiet guy, never really said anything but would laugh at the right times, always went along with what the rest of us where doing. So, one day our orders where to patrol a hot zone. Nothing's happened there for months, so we're all feeling secure until the first Humvee hit an I.E.D, right? Tore it to shreds. Put some pieces into me, all up and down my side. My blood was everywhere."
Bill lifted his shirt to show the scars along his side.
"So, I'm screaming and people start shooting at us, and my buddy Nick is trying to stop the bleeding on me but he's also hurt, part of his face is torn up. I thought we were fucking toast. But then this Indian shows up at our door, pulls what's left of it off and hands me a rifle. He says 'keep shooting I'll be right back.' So he grabs Nick, drags him off. I didn't know it then but Travis took a round to his back. Somebody actually shot him, but that didn't stop him. He took another one coming back for me, carried me back to his Humvee while the whole place was on fire. Two bullets, he took two bullets for me. Afterwards he said to me, 'you just tell people I'm the little Injun that could.'"
Peter and Bill chuckled.
"So this war breaks out in Canada, and Travis comes by ten years after saving my life and he says he needs help getting across the border. So me and my wife, we pack the car up to go camping. Travis hops in the trunk. I took him to some park where his friends were waiting. We said our goodbyes...that's the last time I ever saw or heard from the man I called my brother." Bill motioned to the wall. "Look at this family. All those smiling faces. None of this would've happened if he didn't put me first. None of it. I was good as dead. That's who I'm fighting for. And when it gets dark up there, and you feel alone, you remember that. We are out here. We will do what we can."
Peter felt good on the trip home.
The door to the cell opened as two Indian Agents descended on Peter. They grabbed him under the arms and lifted him to his feet. "Hi guys. I'm not really up for anything today, but if you come back tomorrow..."
They took Peter down the hall to a civilized interrogation room, where Richard was waiting for him. He wore a tan suit, and sat properly with one leg over the other while holding a notebook. Peter was brought around the table and he noticed there was a thick black laptop with wires coming out of it. To the right of the chair Peter was placed in, he observed the three IV bags.
"Good morning. I understand you're healing well." Richard was always polite.
"I'm loving the pain killers." Peter states.
"Excellent." Richard waited as the Agents strapped Peter’s wrists to the chair and cuffed his legs to the floor. "And you've slept well?"
"No. It was cold."
"I'll ask them to turn up the heat for you."
"That could be interpreted in so many ways by them. Could you be specific when you ask."
Richard laughed and nodded that he would, "So, what we have here are two devices of my own making. I am a doctor. I have a PhD in medical sciences but also studied extensively is neural biology, so these are physically safe for you. They shouldn't, when applied properly, harm you in any way."
Peter took no comfort from this. Richard stood up so Peter tried to back up but couldn't get any further due to his restraints.
"This machine here..." Richard said as he turned the laptop on and picked up the wires. Peter could see the electrodes at the end. "It's going to read the different types of electrical surges that your brain gives off. It's also going to monitor your perspiration and breathing rate."
Richard started attaching the seven wire ends to Peter, who moved his head but one of the Agent moved forward and held him still.
"It's basically a lie detector, and from what we've seen it's 100 percent infallible. You might believe that you can beat it, and the only sure way to convince you that you can't is to see it work. You know when you're lying. You can make that judgment when it occurs." Richard moved to the other side of the chair. "Just be aware that I know it works, and trying to prove to me it doesn't is a waste of both our times."
Richard stuck the needle into Peters arm, and then hit the 'on' button and the IV started to drip. Peter narrowed his eyes as he felt a burning flow into the vein. Richard taped the needle into place.
"For a lack of a better name, truth serum. My own formula. Once it takes hold it does more than make you be honest, you'll want to share information." Richard took his seat again. "On their own, both devices are extremely effective. Together, completely full proof. Shall we begin?"
"I'd rather not." Peter closed his eyes for a few seconds, the burning moved up his arm to his neck and when it reached his head it began to feel like an adrenaline rush. His vision became fuzzy and his head turned light as if he stood up from the floor too fast. This wasn't going to be good.
"Now, what is your name?" Richard asked.
"Steven..." Peter stated.
"Nope, that would be a lie. I can wait a few more seconds."
Peter didn't feel right at all. The room felt lopsided and he had to squeeze the armrests or he'd fall over. He could feel his muscles begin to vibrate but when he looked at them they remained immobile.
"What is your name?" Richard asked.
"Peter." Peter screamed at himself in his head, 'Shut-up!'
"True." Richard said as he looked at his computer, he wrote it down on his notepad. "And how old are you, Peter?"
"Twenty-two."
Richard nodded. "And Peter, how come your prints don't show up in our system?"
"I was never put in the system." Peter bit his lip, he didn't want to answer but he couldn't stop himself. "We moved off grid when I was one."
"And that's where you live now, off the grid in the bush?"
"Yes."
"Are you a member of the rebellion?"
"Yes."
"And what rank are you?"
"We don't have ranks, but I'm second only to Karen." Stop!
"Karen is your leader." Richard wrote this down. "Do you know where she is now?"
"In camp."
"We've raided the camp, Peter. Where would she have gone after that?" Richard watched as Peter fought it. He just had to be patient, as he had never seen anybody win.
"North East, fifteen kilometers toward Mount Rain." Peter hit the arm rest the best he could, hoping pain would let him focus.
"Excellent, Peter. Now this camera. Where did you get it from?"
"Michael, from the United Nations human rights envoy. He wants proof of what's happening up here." Peter knew what question was coming next.
"How did this Michael get it to you?"
"We went to him."
"How did you get across the border?"
"A Pharmacist’s." You don't remember his name, you can't remember it. "Steven. He has a shop at the border with a tunnel under the street that crosses into the US. We were picked up there and taken to Bill and Diane's house. Michael met us there."
"What's Steven’s last name?"
"I don't know." Peter breathed out a sigh of relief. At least he didn't know that.
"Well, how many pharmacies along the border could there be? With a pharmacist named Steve?" Richard said causing the Agents to chuckle. "Ok Peter, as the second in command, I'm assuming you're privy to secrets?"
"Yes..." Peter tried to lock eyes with him but became dizzy.
"Secrets as to who's in our office that's been feeding information to your side."
"Yes." Peter said; the names raced through his brain against his will. Elizabeth, Olson, Jeffery, Wolfgang...no, don't tell him. They'll kill them, they'll kill them and it will all be your fault.
"We are aware that we have some leaks. Tell me who they are." Richard put his pen to the paper and waited.
People are going to die Peter, and every death will belong to you unless you fight this! Fight it! Peter couldn't though, he was exhausted and it only got worse every time the IV dripped into his blood system.
"Damien." Peter said after a moment.
The Agents reacted with puzzlement. Richard raised an eyebrow. "Damien? The man that tortured you two nights ago. He's your source?"
"Yes." Peter said.
"How is he your source?"
"Sex." Peter smiled. "He likes to force our women to have sex with him and he likes to brag. So we let him. He tells them everything. Names, numbers, what you're doing."
Richard motioned to one of the Agents who quickly left the room. Richard sighed and looked back at Peter. "Is there anybody else?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
Beth was trailed by two Agents as she moved through the cubicles and came up on where Damien worked at his desk.
"Damien, Barry wants to see you in his office." She said as the other turned around. The concern showed on his face when he saw that he was to be escorted.
"Okay?" Damien followed Beth across the building to the director’s office where Barry stood behind his desk. The group moved inside but nothing was said. "Sir?"
Barry stared down at his desk. He then looked up to Damien.
"It's been brought to my attention that you've..."Barry gritted his teeth, "You've been screwing Indians."
Damien's mouth dropped open as he panicked for something to say. "I've..."
"Yes or no!"
Damien looked to Beth for help but she looked at the desk. "Yes, I have...sir."
"Put your weapon and your badge on the desk and then take a step back." Barry said.
"What did I do wrong?"
"Do it!" Barry yelled. The two Agents put their hands on their own weapons and waited. Damien swallowed and did as he was told. "You will be taken to the holding cells, where you will be confined pending an investigation as to whether or not you have committed treason..."
"Treason?"
"For trading information to the enemy."
"I haven't done anything wrong..." Damien's voice broke.
"Get him out of my sight." Barry demanded and Damien was grabbed by the arms and led away. Barry threw his coffee cup at the wall where it shattered and caused Beth to startle. "What the hell was he thinking?"
"I don't know." Beth said. she noted that Barry's face was now beat red and she hoped he didn't have a heart attack in front of her. Actually it might have been good for the cause. "He was new. He was a rookie."
"He was vetted. They're all vetted. They're supposed to be the best and if it gets out that he traded sex for information a lot more than our jobs are on the line." Barry sat down hard in his chair. "Find out, find out what he gave them. Find out how bad it is then get me a security certificate."
"Sir?"
"I want him locked up so he can't talk to anybody. You personally call the Prime Minister’s Office. You tell him we have a war criminal, a terrorist that needs to be shut down. You get his name down on a certificate and you make him vanish." Barry turned away in the chair.
"Yes sir." Beth said, puzzled but still left the office to go do her duty. She knew her boss was overreacting but he was also in major damage control, watching as things lost balance. Barry was losing his grip.
It would give her something to focus on though, instead of wondering if Peter gave away her name. She knew that Peter was new to a position of power, only put there after several deaths, so might not be experienced enough to play the system. On the other hand he could be.
One could hope.
"This is bullshit." Damien said as he was escorted off the elevator by the two Agents. They were enforcers for the reserve, so had more of a build than he did and easily moved him around. "I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't!"
They came around the corner to the first open cell but Damien stopped when he saw Peter being moved to his own cell by another Agent. Peter looked over and saw Damien.
Peter couldn't help himself. He smiled.
"You asshole!" Damien screamed and charged at Peter but was caught and pulled back. "He's lying, he's lying! Look at him, he's lying."
Damien was pushed into the cell and the door closed, but his screaming could clearly be heard.
Peter was shoved into his cell and grabbed the wall to hold himself up. He ignored the door as it was closed and locked behind him. He had to wait until he was sure he was alone before he slid down the wall to sit, and let the dizzy feeling pass.
Peter rolled over onto the floor and curled up into a ball as he started crying; uncontrollable and completely raw he let out his despair.
He fucked up. People would die for it.
Beth watched Richard from her office as the other sat in Barry's office talking. She couldn't see Barry for his reactions but she could see Richard. He was always very proper, one leg over the other as his one hand rubbed his own chin as he explained something.
Explained what though, Beth wondered as she filled out her paperwork. Right now there could be a piece of paper in there naming her as a co-conspirator with Damien made worse since everybody knew she had been openly supporting his career. It wouldn't take much for them to have her hulled off as well.
Beth stood up and made her away across the floor to Barry's office. She took a breath and knocked on the door before entering. "Barry, the PMO says you can have the certificate."
"We won't be needing it." Barry stated.
"No?"
"Richard's going to interview Damien. He'll find out what he knows or doesn't know." Barry explained, as Beth spotted the notes on top of the desk.
"Fifteen minutes on my stuff, he'll be answering everything." Richard turned in his chair to look at Beth. "People can't hide from me. I doubt though that he did any of this on purpose."
"But he did do something?" Beth asked.
"Richard made a good point, it's hard to find people with Damien's qualifications, willing to go that extra mile for the cause. We may still need him." Barry leaned forward, "Always good to have Richard around for that sober second thought."
"My pleasure," Richard said. What Barry meant was how difficult it is to find people with sadistic tendencies that allowed them to get away with what they did.
"Uh, as for the prisoner, should I be following up on anybody else he's named?" Beth asked as her heart was in her throat.
"As a matter of fact, yes," Richard answered looking directly at her.
"May I...may I see the list?"
"Absolutely," Barry picked up the note pad and held it out to Beth. She took it and swallowed nervously as she looked it over.
Her stomach dropped and she felt a pain behind her right breast as fear gripped her. "My name is on here."
Barry chuckled. Richard spoke up. "No. Different Elizabeth. She's in the mail room."
"Are you sure?"
"My machines don't lie, and you can't lie in them." Richard said. "I ask him for a name, he said Elizabeth. I asked him what she did here, and he said she organizes letters. We checked and sure enough, she was down there and her locker's full of pro-Indian crap."
"Right." Beth said, "So interview her, process her and..."
"Treason." Barry was blunt.
Beth nodded and left the room with the list, not stopping until she reached her own office where she let the fear wash over her. She put her hand to her forehead. "How did he do that? How?"
Beth realized something as she looked at the other names. She wasn't alone in this building.
Chapter 10: https://steemit.com/fiction/@andrewgenaille/hunting-indians-chapter-10
