Orchid Blues

40

Ham arrived at Lake Winachobee the following morning, and before he could join his shooting students, he was intercepted by Peck Rawlings.

"Good morning, Ham," Peck said.

"Morning, Peck."

"John wants you to attend some classes for the next few days," Peck said.

"Classes?"

"It's time you got to know more about the foundations of what we believe in. I know that most of this stuff is going to be old hat for you, but John thinks it's important, just so you'll know how he and the leadership think."

"Well, sure, if that's what John wants. But leadership? I thought John was the leadership."

"He's one of a group, and he communicates the leadership's messages to all of us."

"You mean all of us at Winachobee?"

"No, all over the country. John does a lot of traveling."

"Oh. Just how big an organization are we?"

"You'll be told all about that in due course," Peck said. "You better hurry; the class is getting started. It's in my study."

"Sure, just let me get a notebook out of my truck."

"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 antisurveillance 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.