Perfect Justice

23.

“WAIT A MINUTE!” BEN shouted. “Don’t shoot!”

“Shut your goddamn mouth!” the soldier hovering over him growled.

Two other men appeared on either side of the first, seemingly from nowhere. They were all dressed in standard ASP drill uniforms. They even had black charcoal smeared on their faces.

“Report, private!” one of the newcomers shouted.

“Sir, yes, sir!” The young man raised his gun and stood at attention. Ben took the opportunity to climb back to his feet. “Found the intruder sneaking around the barracks. Saw him looking through the window. He must be the one. Sir!”

The leader, a brown-haired man only marginally older than his so-called private, glared at Ben. “I’m Corporal Holloway. Do you have a pass?”

Ben swallowed. “Well, no …”

Corporal Holloway grabbed Ben by the neck and shoved him back down on the ground. Ben fell to his knees and caught himself by his hands, but a swift kick from one of the men’s boots flattened him. His chin pounded against the dirt.

“Search him, privates!”

Ben felt four hands roaming all over his backside. He didn’t care much for the sensation, but under the circumstances, he decided not to complain.

After the search was completed, Holloway pried the butt of his rifle under Ben’s ribs and rolled him onto his back. One of the privates clamped his hand down on Ben’s throat, securely pinning him to the ground.

“Who authorized your presence?” Corporal Holloway barked.

Ben didn’t feel lying would improve his standing in the community. “No one.”

“State your business!”

Where to begin. “Well,” Ben said hoarsely, “I came for information—”

“Spy!” The private squeezed his throat.

“Look—” The grip on Ben’s larynx was so tight he could barely whisper. “I’m not any kind of—”

“Who sent you?”

“No one sent me.”

Holloway drove a boot into Ben’s ribs. The kick would have smarted under the best of circumstances, but in this case, it landed in the area already softened up by Deputy Gustafson’s pummeling the night before last.

“Let’s try it again,” Holloway said, teeth clenched. “Who sent you? Hatewatch, or the gooks?”

Ben tried to focus on the question, but he kept thinking: Belinda was right. When would he learn to rely on the sound advice of people with common sense? “I’m here for Donald Vick, actually.”

“Stupid choice.” Another kick to his ribs. This time the impact was so violent it knocked the air out of his lungs. Ben wasn’t sure he would be able to breathe anymore. “Stupid spy. You chose the only member of the camp who isn’t here anymore.”

Ben felt a sudden wave of nausea so great it was almost impossible for him to speak. No great loss. Everything he said only made matters worse.

“We’ll put him in detention,” Holloway said. It was an order, not a suggestion. “Till the Grand Dragon has a chance to interrogate him.”

“Sir. Where should we put him, sir?”

“I think the Box would be a good place for this spy,” Holloway said. “Especially on a hot summer day like today. After a few hours in there, he’ll be begging to talk to us. Ripley, Short! Take the prisoner to the Box.” He paused. “See that he comes to some harm along the way.”

“Yes, sir!” they answered in unison.

“What the hell is going on here?”

It was a familiar shout. Corporal Holloway suddenly stood at attention. “Sir. We found the spy surveying the grounds, sir!”

“Your alleged spy is Ben Kincaid, Holloway!” It was Sonny Banner, the leader of Ben’s ASP bodyguards. Ben hadn’t seen him since he got out of jail. “He’s the man who’s representing Private Vick.”

“He’s the mouthpiece?” Holloway’s demeanor slipped, if only for a second. “We didn’t know. Sir. I mean—”

“Did you ask him to identify himself?” Banner demanded.

“Of course. He—”

“Did he tell you he represented Private Vick?”

“Sir. I—” Holloway paused. “Well, he mentioned Vick’s name—”

“Consider yourself on report!” Banner barked. “I’ll fill out the paperwork when I have time. You can count on it.” He extended his hand to Ben.

Who, me? Ben thought. And just when the dirt was starting to feel comfy. They clasped hands. Ben’s ribs had no desire to be elevated, but he let himself be pulled upright nonetheless.

“This man is more valuable to us than you will ever be, Holloway,” Banner said sharply. Poor Holloway—Ben was almost starting to feel sorry for him.

Banner straightened Ben up and brushed off his shirt. “Are you all right?”

“I think I can walk. …”

“Good man.” He slapped Ben on the back. The slap was almost as painful as Holloway’s kicks. “What can I do for you?”

Ben thought quickly. “I’d like to speak to the Grand Dragon. It’s about the case.”

“Of course. I’ll arrange it immediately.” Banner turned back for a parting shot. “I’ll be speaking to the Grand Dragon about you, also, Corporal Holloway. I wonder if you shouldn’t spend some time in the Box yourself.”

Holloway didn’t respond, but the terrified expression on his face spoke volumes.

“Come on, Ben.” Banner clamped his thick arm around Ben’s shoulders. “I hope you can forget what happened here. This was inexcusable. You’re a VIP—a Very Important Person—to the members of ASP. From now on I guarantee you’ll be given the respect you deserve.”

Ben wasn’t sure which sickened him more—the way Holloway treated him, or the way Banner did.