Date: Mon, 28 Aug 2000 17:05:49 -0700 (PDT) From: Orrin Rush Subject: Lifeguard 24 THE LIFEGUARD Chapter 24 by Orrin C. Rush Copyright (c) 2000 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved. orrinrush@yahoo.com WARNING Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go somewhere else. Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed electronically or in any other manner without the express, written consent of the author. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not intended. They are all products of the author's imagination. "You're not gonna believe this!" he said. "The permits cost five percent of the value, and the fine is 10% on anything that's moved more than a foot on top of that." "What?" I yelled, "That's fucking outrageous. They can't get away with that!" "They're convinced that they can," Mike said. The Lifeguard Chapter 24 Eric and I passed news of this outrage on to our respective Legal eagles. They too couldn't believe what they were hearing, and started citing Constitutional reasons why this was illegal. "Whoa," I said. "What do you advise us to do right now?" "Stop everything and give us a couple of hours to find out just what the hell is going on." I agreed to that and gave him my cell phone number. Eric got pretty much the same advice, and Micron's attorneys were on their way. "Guess we'll have to wait a couple of hours and see what happens," I told Mike, apologetically, "We'd better stop everything for the time being." By now, he was thoroughly pissed, but he went off to do what he had to, muttering "fucking bumpkins". Turning to me, Eric asked "Do you know how much that is?" "In round figures, yes. Five fucking million for the privilege of moving it, and another ten because we did. This is fucking insane!" I couldn't help but smile. Eric was really worked up. "Calm down, babe, we'll make it work." He wasn't interested. "What the hell will Micron do if we're not in production in three weeks?" "They'll survive. We'll all survive," I assured him, putting my arm around his shoulder. "Let's get comfortable and wait this thing out." We sat on a bench in what used to be the employee lunchroom. We talked about everything but the pending problem. Abruptly, I told him "Before this thing is over, we'll both be laughing. I'll bet on it!" Not only was Jack, who headed our Legal Department good, he was fast. My cellphone buzzed, and he sounded jubilant. We maneuvered so Eric could hear him too. God knows what we looked like huddled there. "We got lucky," he said. "We all got on the phone here, trying to find an attorney in that godforsaken town you're in. We found one that not only knew about the whole thing but's he's on our side. "Here's what happened. A few days after Micron announced that it was closing that facility, there was a meeting of the County Council. They were all mad about the closure and the lost jobs, so they decided to stick it to us however they could. Somebody came up with the bright idea of a 'Moving Permit Fee'. Then, knowing we wouldn't know about it, tacked on a penalty if we 'moved' without a permit, knowing damned well that we would. The best part is that all this happened in an open meeting with lots of witnesses, and I think is all in the official record." "Is it legal?" I asked. "For the minute, yes. They followed all the rules, giving the proper time for protest, and advertising and posting the new ordinance." "Will it hold up in court?" "Not for five minutes. There are so many laws AGAINST what they're doing, particularly in the Constitution, that you guys would have grounds to sue everybody involved for more than they're ever going to be worth. You may even end up owning the whole goddam County!" "Who'd want it," Eric mumbled. "Well, what do we do now?" I asked. "Go ahead and load up the trucks, just don't let them leave the property. The Sheriff can't stop you and he can't stop the trucks from coming on the property. If he tries, the guy I mentioned earlier will have an injunction in an hour. "Monday, we waltz into the County Courthouse with a Cashier's Check for 15% of the equipment value, and five minutes later, we file suit. We broke the law, and we're paying up. They won't have any choice but to release everything. "It's a discriminating law passed strictly to penalize us, and that's on record. You just can't do that! I don't think many of the county residents know what's going on, but when they find out they may lose your lawsuit, and get hit hard on their property tax bill, they may think twice about who they elected." "We'd better get to work, then," I said. "I'm sending Dale with the cashier's check. He can make the press release too, and the rest of us will spend the weekend preparing the lawsuit. We're gonna ask for $10 billion in punitive damages. That oughta get their attention." "Keep us informed," I requested and clicked off. I smiled at Eric. "Told ya we'd be smiling. Let's go have some fun with the Sheriff." By now the group had grown to six cars and eight Deputies. "You want to do the talking, or you want me to?" I asked Eric. "Let me do it," he grinned. "Sir?" Eric approached the Sheriff. "We'd like to ask you to move your cars off the property." "You the owner?" he drawled. "No, not the owner, but I'm the lessee in possession which is about the same." "Got proof of that sonny?" "Of course I don't, not on me. Sir, you are trespassing, why are you here?" "To stop you hooligans from hauling all this equipment away without payin' the proper fees." "Well, Sir," Eric continued, "you can do that just as well from outside the gates. I assure you we're not going to remove anything, just load it up." "You know how much that's gonna cost you?" "We're fully aware of your ordinance. Now, Sir, please move off the property. Also, I must warn you, you can't stop trucks from entering this property either." "What's to stop me?" "We'll have an injunction to remove you delivered here in an hour. If you want to play that way, there may be personal damages involved. Think about it, we're not going anywhere." Grumbling, he got into his car. The Deputies did the same. "Business Law pays off," I grinned at Eric. Mike had been standing beside me. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Those assholes are going to try to soak the hell out of you. I know what this stuff is worth, remember." "We're covered," I told him. "Let's get to work. No rush though, we have until Monday." Things started humming again, trucks got loaded then arranged in the parking lot. Thank God it was a big lot! On the way back to the motel, I told Eric that this was going to be an interesting weekend. "But we don't have any clean clothes," he moaned. "We'll go buy some," I told him. "Do we need lube?" "That's covered," he assured me. We had all the available rooms at the motel set aside, not knowing who all would be showing up. Three attorneys from Micron arrived and set up their command post. Their main fear, it turned out, was that Eric and I would use one of the escape clauses in our agreement to back out of the whole deal. When asked, Eric made our position abundantly clear even though he and I hadn't discussed it. "We have no intention of running. We're in this thing for the long term, and consider this a setback, no more. However, we may ask for some extra time to get set up because of what's happened." My cell phone rang constantly, Jack knew how I liked to be kept abreast of developments and either he or one of his staff called with progress reports which I relayed to Eric. Dale would be bringing the Cashier's Check, and I asked Jack to suggest that Dale bring his "partner" along for the ride, at our expense. They would be arriving early Saturday. Since the local statute was vague in its definition of "value", Jack recommended that we use original cost in calculating the fees. "We're going to get the money back anyway," he assured me, "so let's not take any chances of more delays." He was sending full documentation. Mike reported that the Sheriff had, all of a sudden, become most cooperative, and even had his Deputies directing traffic. When I passed this on to Eric, we both got a good laugh. "I can just imagine the County Council licking their chops over the windfall they're going to get on Monday," he said. "Bet they've already got it spent." Late in the afternoon, the local attorney Jack had talked to paid us a visit, telling us that Jack had retained him. For an attorney, he was a nice guy, not self-important or pompous. "I've lived here all my life," he said, "and these people never cease to amaze me. I watched them do this, even warned them that it was illegal and that they were looking for big trouble, but they went right ahead. "Of course, they haven't enforced this law against anybody but you even though it's been on the books for almost a month. That's just a tiny bit discriminatory, wouldn't you say?" "What do you think the local reaction will be?" Eric asked. "Hard to tell. If they're rational, they'll recall the Council, give you your money back, and try to settle the whole matter. On the other hand, the people in these parts are a real independent bunch, and may take the position that big corporations, meaning you guys and Micron, can't push them around, and get stubborn as hell. This, in spite of the fact that they pushed first." "Then, we could be in for a long battle?" "They could take it all the way to the Supreme Court, which could take years," he said. "But, in the end, you'll prevail. I just hope they consider the consequences." I asked him about restaurants in the area. The best, according to him was about 30 miles away. They brought lobsters in daily from the coast, and he insisted on taking us because it was hard to find. He also gave us directions to the local shopping center, and we agreed to meet later. We found a department store and Eric learned how I shop. We were out of there in 20 minutes with everything we needed. - - - - - Stuffed with some of the best lobster I'd eaten in years, it was time for bed. "Isn't lobster supposed to make you horny?" Eric asked. "As if you needed any help! No, it's oysters, I think." "Lobster worked for me!" he said pulling his shorts down. Anybody who didn't react to the sight in front of me was either too old or straight. I was neither. He walked toward me and stopped just within reach. Seated, all I had to do was bend forward to take him in my mouth, but I didn't. Instead I used my hands, running my fingertips lightly up and down that impressive protrusion. "You're giving me goosebumps," he chuckled. "Like it?" "Love it." "No fair," he said after a few minutes more of this, "I don't have anything to play with." We got into a 69 position on the bed, but used our fingers instead of our mouths. The touches were feather light, sending incredible signals to our brains. Our arms got entangled as we explored more territory, balls, stomachs, chests. I found a combination that Eric really seemed to like. One finger stroking his nipple, another stroking the underside of his dickhead. He used the same combination on me, and we writhed and groaned together. We avoided the flowing precum to maintain the "dry" sensations. We were getting close, so I moved one hand to his balls and gave his other nipple some attention. That slowed things down temporarily. I moved back to his dick, running my fingers up and down the underside almost to the head, flicking around the shaft as I went. Being so thoroughly engrossed in giving him pleasure, I didn't notice how close I was, and when his hand lightly closed around the head of my dick, I unexpectedly flew over the brink. I don't know what my hands did to him while I spasmed, but when my eyes opened, cum was spurting everywhere. "Man, that was awesome," he groaned, the only comment made before we fell asleep. - - - - - Mike and his crew were still at it Saturday morning. They only had 12 more lines to go, and figured that they'd finish by noon. "At least we'll have a chance to go over everything and pick up anything we missed," Mike said. "I wonder if they'll try to stick us for moving the inventory?" "Wouldn't surprise me, but I think they forgot that," I chuckled. There was still a Deputy Sheriff guarding the gate, but the atmosphere was much more relaxed. A lot of looky-loos were driving slowly by. "I'm taking all the boys out to dinner tonight," Mike told us, "then tomorrow is a day off. They've earned it. Figured I'd better keep everybody around until you get everything released on Monday, just in case." "Good idea," I said, and told him about the lobster place we'd been to the previous evening. Eric and I met Dale's plane. Rick had come along. They were a cute couple. Dale seemed a little uncomfortable being with the "boss" and his boyfriend under informal circumstances, but Eric soon put them at ease. At the motel, Dale got right down to business. He had the Cashier's check which he said made him nervous, so I took it to hold until Monday. It was for $18,132,456.26, exactly 15% of the original cost of all the machinery. He started to instruct me on how the transaction was to be handled. "Whoa," I told him. "You're the one who's going to do this. I'm just going to be an innocent bystander." "Jack didn't say anything about that," he protested. "You're on the front line, my man, Eric and I are just going to be onlookers. I'm afraid that there's going to be a circus, and you know how I hate the limelight. You'll do fine." "Do you think the press'll be there?" "I think you can count on it. The local yokels are going to milk every bit of publicity they can out of this. Can't you see it 'Small Town Fights Back'? Good human interest, and if it's a slow news day, might even make the national news." "Oh shit! Excuse me," Dale stammered. Eric ran to the rescue. "Hell, relax, we say shit all the time, and a lot of other things too." "I just didn't expect this," Dale said. "Good thing I brought a suit." "Do you have a press release?" I asked. "Yes, it's right here." I read it. Just a statement of fact. Lundborg Rush had inadvertently and unknowingly violated a local statute. We'd paid our fine, and now we wanted to go about our business. Period. No mention of the lawsuit that was being filed. No threats, no whining. I liked it. Eric also gave his approval. "What if they throw us some kind of curve?" Dale asked. "Then, ad lib," Eric suggested. "I don't know what the hell more they could come up with. Just to be on the safe side, let's get that local attorney over here and see if he has any ideas. Let's be prepared for the worst." Eric called Jim, the local attorney, and he was there in a hurry. We went over all the possibilities, and nobody could come up with anything other than delaying tactics, like the Magistrate not showing up. After asking Jim to accompany him on Monday, Dale relaxed and seemed to be in full control of the situation. This would be a big moment in the spotlight for such a young attorney, and I was proud of him. Jim had another restaurant he wanted to take us all to that evening. He would come back later to pick us up. As soon as he was gone, Eric asked "Is it just me, or did anybody else pick up 'signals' from that guy?" I had to laugh "You too? Last night I was getting blips on the gaydar. How about you guys?" "Definitely," Rick said. "I was wondering, too," Dale added. "Jesus Christ," Eric said, "Is the whole world going queer, or do we just attract 'em?" "You'd attract anybody!" Dale said, then turned beet red when he realized what he'd said that had the rest of us laughing. "That's why I'm not a trial Lawyer," he explained. "I have this tendency to blurt things out." "And, I love him for it," Rick said. "How long you guys been together?" I asked. "Soon be five years," Rick said. "Five happy years." Jim picked us up in a bigass Lincoln Towncar. Dale rode in front, and Rick, Eric and I got in back. That night's destination was even further away. Eric was in one of his playful moods, and started horsing around. I gave him dirty looks, but that only encouraged him. Rick, on the other side of me, was doing his best to keep from cracking up, and that was even more fuel for Eric. "Goddamit, knock it off!" I whispered to him, as serious as I could be with a hand on my crotch. Of course, Rick heard, and that set him off in a fit of giggles. Dale looked over the seat, and the expression on his face even got me laughing. Poor Dale, it seemed like we were always picking on him. "Everything OK?" Jim asked. "Just a goddam kid that missed his nap," I said, trying to sound serious. This cracked everybody up. "Kid, huh, we'll see about that later," Eric whispered in my ear loud enough for everybody to hear. If Jim hadn't figured out the situation before, he knew now. From there on, all pretense was dropped, and we had a great, laughter filled evening. Sunday afternoon, we all decided to go have a look at the Courthouse. That was a mistake. TV trucks ringed the whole block, every network was represented. It was going to be a circus allright, and Dale's jitters multiplied. When we got back to the motel, Jim was waiting. "Didn't think they'd go this far," he said. "Gonna be a three-ring circus." We sat down to plan. Jim's office was across the street from the Courthouse. Rick, Eric and I could watch the spectacle from there. Mike came in, and agreed to drive Dale and Jim to the Courthouse in Jim's car, then pick them up after the proceedings, and if everything went well, take them straight to the airport where our plane would be waiting. The three of us would meet them there. If there were snags, Dale and Jim would cross the street to Jim's office. This was all worked out when the Micron attorneys returned. Nobody had expected them, and there were four this time. All four wanted to accompany Dale to the Courthouse, but Jim talked them out of that, citing overkill. Only one would go, the other three would join us at Jim's office. As the afternoon wore on, there were more arrivals. Jerry and Greg flew up from New York, then, to my total surprise, the Metalco contingent arrived. Bill, Jack, Annie and Tina, and, of course Ron and Jason, the pilots. "Thank God you're here," Dale told Jack privately. "Now you can handle this mess." "No Sir!" Jack told him. "This is your baby, and you're going to see it through. I have complete confidence in you." Jerry and Greg had come to see for themselves. They'd already been out to the plant and reported that the Deputies were patrolling the place. I wasn't really surprised to see Jack and Bill, but Tina and Annie were totally unexpected. "Free ride," Annie explained. "No, Dad, really, we're a part of this too." The seven Attorneys went to another room to compare notes, Annie and Tina left to check out their room, and Mike and the pilots went off to another room, probably for some peace and quiet. Bill shook his head. "This is really funny. Here are the titans of American Industry, huddled in a motel room in bumfuck New Hampshire, all because a bunch of hicks decided to get greedy." "Funny, but true," Greg agreed. "It's all such a damned joke," Bill continued. "On the way out here, Jack filled me in on the Constitutional issues involved, and those poor people don't have an ice cube's chance in hell of making this stick." "That's what we hear too," Jerry added. "Let's not get morbid about the whole thing," I suggested. "It'll all be over tomorrow and we can forget the whole thing." "I, for one, am not going to forget all the money we're putting up," Eric said, "and what about the lawsuit?" "The last I heard," Bill volunteered, "is that the suit will be filed in some other Court the minute the equipment's released. They may even wait until the next day to make sure everything gets out of the state." "Maybe you ought to wait until the inventory's moved, too," Greg said, "I just don't trust those bastards." "Jack's going to clear it with you, Dave, before it's filed, so it'll be up to you when it's done," Bill added. "What do you think the Press angle will be?" Jerry asked noone in particular. Rick spoke for the first time. "If it hits the national level, CBS will probably side with the townspeople, saying that 'Big Business' is getting what it deserves. NBC will probably side with you, citing the Constitutional issues, and ABC could go either way, depending on who's reporting." "Let's just hope it stays local," I said. "Let's all go get something to eat. Jim took Eric and I to a lobster house the other night, and I highly recommend it." After dinner, Eric, Greg and Jerry went off to discuss Micron business. I spent some time with the girls, and we all went to bed rather early. We all went over logistics one final time Monday morning. With all the attorneys, Mike, Ron and Jason had worked everything out. Jack and three of the Micron Attorneys, dressed casually, would leave first, mingle with the crowd and attempt to get into the courtroom early. Mike would play chaffeur to the other three attorneys, dropping them off right in front of the courthouse so they could go directly inside, hopefully avoiding the press. He would be "on call" by cell phone when the proceedings were over, and would return to pick them up. Ron and Jason would herd the rest of us to Jim's office, where we would enter and leave through a back entrance. Since everybody was packing cell phones, Jason collected everyone's numbers, then gave everyone copies. This was in the event we somehow got separated. In my opinion, all this was overkill, but Jason insisted. Sometimes, I believe those two guys were overprotective. Jack and the other three were the first to leave. Next, it was the mob scene. It took three cars. Ron drove one, Jason another rental, and Greg and Jerry drove their own. Jim's office was a converted two-story home. The back yard, on an alley, had been made into a parking lot. One of Jim's Associates led us to a big office on the second floor that had to be Jim's. Four windows afforded an unobstructed view of the Courthouse across the street. There was a definite carnival atmosphere. TV trucks, with their little dish antennas were parked on either side of the entrance, and more vans with station insignia filled the rest of the curb. A small gap between trucks was left in front of the Courthouse steps and the steps themselves were cordoned off. What a fucking farce, I thought to myself. Jim's office was prepared for us. Coffee, soft drinks and a tray of sandwiches. Mike and the Attorneys drove up. They walked between the TV trucks and on up the steps, totally ignoring all the microphones shoved at them, marching steadily through the crowd. Now it was time to wait. More than an hour later, my cell phone buzzed. I fished it out of my pocket and answered. "Dave, this is Jack." "Speak up, I can't hear you." "I can't." "Quiet, everybody," I asked. "Go ahead Jack." "Don't ask questions, I'll explain later. You and Eric and the Micron boys need to get out of town FAST. Don't use the plane. Get in a car and head for the Vermont border as fast as you can. Get going NOW! I'll call when I can." He clicked off. I turned to the room. "Eric, Greg, Jerry. That was Jack. Something's gone wrong. He said to get out of this state as fast as we can. He didn't say why, but whatever it is, I believe him. Let's go." Ron and Jason sprang into action. Ron grabbed Eric and I and literally shoved us out of the office and down the back stairs. He hit the parking lot like a commando, still gripping us by the arm. He found our car, and told us to get in the back seat and lie down. I glanced around before I dove in, and saw that Jason was doing just about the same thing to Greg and Jerry. When we were in, Ron backed out and drove down the alley, then the street, excruciatingly slowly. "Don't want to attract any attention," he said. "Jason's about a half block behind us. I'll let you know what's going on. Just keep down." I looked over at Eric. He was grinning from ear to ear. "We're fugitives!" he giggled and squirmed around to get more comfortable. "AHA!" Ron cried out, "the sign says 'White River Junction' 44 miles. I KNOW that's in Vermont. You guys'll be able to sit up in a few minutes." "But we're having so much fun!" Eric giggled, playing with my butt, making me giggle too. It was contagious. Ron started laughing too. "I can't believe you guys, you don't take anything seriously." "I'm TRYING to get serious, but there isn't enough room to reach anything," was Eric's comeback. "Bet we're having more fun than Greg and Jerry, though." "I wonder what the hell's going on," I wondered out loud. "It must be serious or Jack wouldn't have told us to get out of town," Ron said. "Can I use your cell phone, Ron?" I asked. "Right here." "Is Jason's number programmed in?" "Press dial then one." I got Jason, then Greg. "Sorry about all this," I told him. "I don't have any idea what this is all about, but when Jack speaks, I listen." He was laughing. "Don't worry about it, Dave, we haven't had this much fun since college days." "Just keep your head down," I laughed. "I'll let you know when we learn anything." I handed the phone back to Ron. "I think we're all nuts. Those idiots think this is FUN!" Ron must have been having fun too, because he made us stay down until we actually crossed the state line. In White River Junction, Ron drove several blocks from the highway on side streets before pulling over. Jason was right behind. All of us were wearing big grins when we got out. "This is getting better all the time!" Jerry laughed. "I'm sure we're fugitives from something," Eric giggled. Still not having a clue what was going on, Greg made the logical suggestion. "Let's just keep going. We're only a few hours from New York." "Do you know the way?" Jason asked Greg. "Yep." "Then you guys follow us. I feel safer when we're on the road." We got back in, Eric in the front seat this time. We'd been on the road another half hour before my phone buzzed. It was Dale. "I think I'm in the Twilight Zone," he said. "What the hell's going on?" I asked. "You want the whole story or just the high points?" "Give me the whole story." "First, are all of you out of New Hampshire?" "We're heading South through Vermont," I told him. "Thank God. Well, here's what happened: We had a helluva time just getting into the Courthouse, I'm sure you could see the crowds and all the TV people. "Jim knew where we were supposed to go, so we followed him. Under normal circumstances, we'd just go to some clerk's office, pay the fees and the fine, and that'd be it. Not this time. They had a whole courtroom set up, more room for the TV cameras, I think. It was like a goddam trial. "The Magistrate came in, asked the clerk for the 'Case'. There wasn't one. Nobody had filed the charges. We had to wait while somebody did that, which took forever. When the charges were finally read, charging both Lundborg Rush and Micron for a Misdemeanor, the Judge asked who we were. We all introduced ourselves as representing the Defendants, Lundborg Rush and Micron. "Next, the crotchety old bastard wanted to know if all of us were licensed to practice in New Hampshire. I'm not, and neither is the Micron Attorney, so we were dismissed. That left Jim, who obviously IS licensed. "The Judge asked for a plea. Jim told him 'guilty', and after a lot of shuffling of papers and fooling around, the Judge pronounced sentence - payment of the 5% fees and the 10% penalty, as we expected. "Jim told the Judge that he was prepared to provide documentation on the equipment's value and pay the fees and the penalty. "The Clerk took the documentation and the check to the Judge, who then took about 20 minutes to read every goddam page. "While all this was going on, the Micron Attorney and I were standing with Jack in the back of the Courtroom. "When the Judge finally got around to it, he pronounced that everything was in order, and the equipment was free to be moved. We all thought that was the end of it, but the Judge wasn't finished. "He then announced that there was a matter of 'Personal Responsibility', whatever the hell that is, involved. That's when Jack realized what might happen next and called you on his cell phone. The Micron guy and I tried to shield Jack so the Judge couldn't see him, but the old bastard did. "That's when it hit the fan. The Judge ordered the Bailiff to arrest Jack on the spot, and everything stopped while the Judge charged him with Contempt of Court, had Jack handcuffed and led off to jail. "The judge was really pissed, and put on one hell of a performance for the cameras." I interrupted. "Is this really happening?" I asked Dale. "I'm afraid so, and it even gets more bizarre. Now, the Judge wants to know who 'ordered' the removal of the equipment, that whoever did was subject to a 10 day mandatory jail sentence. "Jim tried to argue that this was a Civil, not a Criminal matter, and that the Statute didn't have any such provisions. "The Judge wouldn't listen, stating that this was 'his' Court, and he'd decide those matters, and proceeded to issue bench warrants for all the officers and directors of Lundborg Rush and Micron." This was too much. "Can they actually arrest us?" I asked. "They can if they can find you in New Hampshire, and I'm pretty sure they knew that you were here." "Thank God for Jack!" I told him. "Now, Dale, have the Micron guys call Dale and Greg, then call me back in a half hour or so." "Will do." "Well?" Eric asked from the front seat. I repeated the whole story that Dale had given me. Both of us, and Ron too, were totally flabbergasted. After a few moments of silence, Eric commented "Well, at least we all got out of there in time. I just hope that the trucks get out of the state before they change their minds." Ron's phone buzzed. It was Greg. Eric twisted around and I sat forward so we could both talk to him. "Can you believe all this shit?" he asked, laughing. "At least we made it outta there. The idea of spending 10 days in the pokey isn't my idea of fun." "But they've got the head of our Legal Department," I reminded him. "I know, but I don't think they can hold him for more than 24 hours." "Let's hope not. "Whaddya think, babe?" Eric asked. "I HOPE that in another 24 hours, this joke is over. Once we get that inventory out, I don't want anything to do with this fucking state ever again." "Amen to that." My phone buzzed again. This time in was Bill. "This time they've gone too goddam far," he said seriously. "They arrested Annie." "They WHAT?" I screamed. "Somehow they found out that she's Corporate Secretary of Lundborg Rush, and a few minutes ago Sheriffs showed up here at the motel and arrested her." "Sonofabitch, I completely forgot about that. The poor kid." "Don't worry about her, she'll take care of herself." "Where's Jim?" "He followed the Sheriff, and is going to try to bail her out." "I'm gonna try to call him, bye." "They arrested Annie," I told Eric and Ron while I was punching Jim's number into the phone. Ron was calling Jason in the other car, and we were slowing. Jim answered. "This is Dave, what the fuck is going on?" "I don't know, I'm following them to the Courthouse and I'll call you as soon as I know anything." We were stopped on the shoulder, Greg and Jerry got out, stretching and smiling. They lost the smiles when I told them what had happened. "This has gotten totally out of control," Greg said. "It's time we got hold of the Governor." "Can you?" I asked. "Lemme try." He was immediately on his phone. "I feel so goddam helpless," I told Eric. "That poor kid!" "I know Annie, and the ones I think you should be feeling sorry for are the cops." "That's what I'm afraid of. If she loses that temper of hers, she could be 'in' for months." "Never underestimate Annie," he said. "She's one smart kid. She knows when to blow up and when not to." "I'm pulling every string I know how to," Greg said. "The wheels are in motion. This is going too damn slow. We're almost to Springfield, and I'm going to call ahead and charter a chopper that can land on top of our building. Let's go." We hopped in and sped off. I could see both Jerry and Greg on their phones in the car ahead. My phone rang again. "Your daughter's a genius," Jim said. "She's fine, by the way, getting booked right now." "What happened?" "When they got to the Courthouse, the dumb damn Sheriffs drug her up the Courthouse steps in front of the TV cameras who are still around. They were a little bit rough, which wasn't smart either, but Annie blew them all away when she looked straight into the cameras with her little girl eyes, tears running down her cheeks. She didn't say a word, she didn't have to. Any sympathy the County had is gone now. They're definitely the bad guys." "That's good, but can you get her out?" "I'll do my damn best, but if I can't the jail matron is a friend, and I'll see that she's safe and comfortable." "Keep me up-to-date on ANYTHING that happens." I clicked off and called Bill. "How's Tina doing?" I asked. "She's doing fine. She's right here, want to talk to her?" "Hi Dad, where are you?" "Someplace in Massachusetts. How are YOU doing?" "I'm doing fine. Annie told me not to worry when they arrested her, but she did ask me to let Kevin know what's going on. I don't have his number, so could you call him?" "I'll take care of it," I promised. "I'm going to ask Bill to put you on a plane to New York as soon as he can, and we'll meet you there. I want you out of there as fast as possible. No telling what those crazy people might do next." "But what about Annie? I don't want to leave her here all alone." "I don't know what you could do," I told her. "It'd be safer for you to be out of there. We've got a lot of people working on this, and she won't be left alone, I assure you." I talked to Bill again and he readily agreed. Eric located Kevin, and offered him use of our other plane to go see Annie. Greg hadn't been able to get a chopper, but was able to charter a twin-engine prop plane that was actually faster. On board, with Eric's arm around me, I pondered the situation we were in. At first, the whole thing had been kind of a game - trying to outsmart the locals. That'd all changed when they started playing dirty, making it a personal vendetta. Dragging Annie into it was an outrage. The press, for a change, might help us. I had little doubt that this story would garner far more than local attention. OK, if they wanted to play dirty, I could play that way too, and I had the money to do it right. Dirty but legal. I wouldn't stoop to their level even though I felt like it. My mind focused. Who first, and what would hurt the most. "You're awfully quiet," Eric said in a low voice. "Just thinking." "Want to tell me about it? I know how upset you are." I turned to him. "Eric, this is one time I don't want to share. I don't believe you'd like what I'm thinking." To be continued. AUTHOR'S NOTE: The State of New Hampshire was chosen at random as the setting for this part of the story and is not meant, in any way, to denigrate the citizens of that fine State. It could have been anywhere! I appreciate hearing your comments on the story, my writing, and anything you would like to offer - good or not so good. Send me a message at orrinrush@yahoo.com if you would like to be included on my update "alert" mailing list. orrinrush@yahoo.com