[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Page 19
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Cadillac and the machine guns in Conroy's truck? How could you plan for
something that wasn't supposed to happen?
His companions watched admiringly as he strode stiff and straight down the
corridor. What they didn't know was that his calm came not from some inner
strength or conviction, but rather from the fact that the old man was in
shock.
Then they were in a large, open room, devoid of furniture except for a couple
of big desks and several of the men who had rounded them up at the burning. On
one desk a large tape recorder sat running, and nearby another man quietly
operated a video camcorder.
One of the men spoke to them, sounding tired. Come on everybody, line up. We
haven't got all night.
The sooner we get this over with the sooner most of you will be out on bail.
Sutherlin stepped forward. You know, suh, you're going to be sorry when the
truth of this mattah comes out. You're making a big mistake heah. I know a few
people down in the capital, and y'all are going to be hearing from them.
The man behind the desk that crossed the T of the single-file line glanced at
his watch. I know it's past three in the morning and I'm sorry the air
conditioning is out, but we should all be grateful it's early June and not
late August. It's a sorry end to a sorry evening and I don't want to have to
argue with a sorry bunch like yourselves. So just do as you're told and answer
the questions. A few mutters of protest came from the line of white-clad men,
but there was no strength left in any of them.
Other clerks entered the room and began taking individuals out of the line,
escorting them to small cubbyholes down the next hallway. They looked as hot
and tired as the men they'd been assigned to question.
Each of you will be given the chance to call home, or your lawyers, or
whatever, said the man behind the big desk. You should've been read your
rights on the way in. A few sheepish nods. Jimmy Cousins actually began to
cry. The big would-be linebacker looked like a six-year-old with a pituitary
condition.
The chief agent made a face in his direction, glanced down at the papers that
filled his desk. At your respective individual debriefings and question
sessions the specific charges against each of you will be read. As he
finished saying this he looked up at Conroy and Vandorm. The charges will
vary.
Luther leaned over to whisper to his buddy. Don't tell em nuthin', BJ. We're
screwed as it is.
No talking in line, said an agent standing nearby. You'll have plenty of
time to talk in a few minutes.
Yeah, how long's this gonna take? said one of the other men from the back of
the line. I got cows to milk in a couple of hours. If the milking ain't done
it's gonna cost me and somebody's gonna pay for damages for sure.
The chief agent shook his head and muttered to the younger man standing next
to him. Can you believe this bunch?
Luther saw someone put a hand on BJ's arm. He looked over and saw that it was
the black agent BJ
had confronted back in the woods.
Well, well. The agent was smiling humorlessly. Lookie who I get to
interview. You come with me nice
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and quiet-like, country boy. We wouldn't want you to have an accident or
anything between here and the debriefing room, would we?
Angrily, BJ shook the hand off. Keep your hands off me. Just show me where
you want me to go.
Oh, I'll let you know where to go, all right. The agent's artificial smile
disappeared quickly. You just give me a chance, just the slightest excuse,
Page 20
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
and I'll help you get there.
Don't tell em nuthin', BJ! Conroy and Vandorm shouted in tandem as their
simpleminded friend was led off down a side corridor.
You show em, BJ! yelled another. A number of the fainthearted drew
inspiration from the courage of the least man among them.
It's all right, guys! BJ waved back to them as he was led off between the
black agent and one another.
Y'all be good and I'll see you around.
Don't count on it, cracker. The agent's grin had returned. You're under
arrest or have you forgotten?
Shoot, said BJ, loud enough for his friends to hear as they turned a corner,
you ain't got nuthin on me and my friends. We'll be out of here by lunch.
Conroy stared as the janitor was led roughly out of sight by the two FBI men.
Good man, that BJ.
Stronger than most of em if not too bright. Should've kept his mouth shut out
there in the forest. Conroy hoped the janitor would be able to hold up under
the pressure they were likely to put on him. They probably couldn't break him
down physically, assuming such things still went on in law enforcement, but
they might be able to trick him. Yes sir, they just might trick poor slow
good-natured BJ into spilling all the beans between here and Hattiesburg.
Not that it made much difference. The chapter was pretty well dead no matter
what anyone said because it would take a blind man to miss the machine guns
hidden in his pickup.
Who could he blame those on? He had to have someone or there'd be nothing to
tell them. Suppose he said he'd bought the Uzis for a gag? Sure, that was it.
He and a couple of the boys were going to go out and do some varmint shootin',
easy style. Just for fun. That would do for the automatic weapons. Play it
dumb. Didn't matter whether they believed the story or not. It sounded just
like the sort of thing a bunch of good ol country boys would do. A federal
judge would give it more credibility than a local one, who'd know better.
Explaining away the detailed plans for blowing up the ACLU office in Jackson
was going to be a damn sight tougher. That would depend on Sutherlin and the
excuses he made for the explosives in his car.
Conroy worried about that. What use did a certified public accountant have for
fifty pounds of dynamite?
Conroy might have saved himself the mental torment. Down the central hallway,
behind the privacy of soundproof doors, the rest of his friends were already
spilling their guts to their respective interrogators in hopes of getting off
as lightly as possible. Jimmy Cousins in particular was willing to do anything
to keep his name out of the paper, up to and including swearing in court that
Sutherlin and Conroy and all the other senior chapter members were child [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szamanka888.keep.pl
Page 19
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Cadillac and the machine guns in Conroy's truck? How could you plan for
something that wasn't supposed to happen?
His companions watched admiringly as he strode stiff and straight down the
corridor. What they didn't know was that his calm came not from some inner
strength or conviction, but rather from the fact that the old man was in
shock.
Then they were in a large, open room, devoid of furniture except for a couple
of big desks and several of the men who had rounded them up at the burning. On
one desk a large tape recorder sat running, and nearby another man quietly
operated a video camcorder.
One of the men spoke to them, sounding tired. Come on everybody, line up. We
haven't got all night.
The sooner we get this over with the sooner most of you will be out on bail.
Sutherlin stepped forward. You know, suh, you're going to be sorry when the
truth of this mattah comes out. You're making a big mistake heah. I know a few
people down in the capital, and y'all are going to be hearing from them.
The man behind the desk that crossed the T of the single-file line glanced at
his watch. I know it's past three in the morning and I'm sorry the air
conditioning is out, but we should all be grateful it's early June and not
late August. It's a sorry end to a sorry evening and I don't want to have to
argue with a sorry bunch like yourselves. So just do as you're told and answer
the questions. A few mutters of protest came from the line of white-clad men,
but there was no strength left in any of them.
Other clerks entered the room and began taking individuals out of the line,
escorting them to small cubbyholes down the next hallway. They looked as hot
and tired as the men they'd been assigned to question.
Each of you will be given the chance to call home, or your lawyers, or
whatever, said the man behind the big desk. You should've been read your
rights on the way in. A few sheepish nods. Jimmy Cousins actually began to
cry. The big would-be linebacker looked like a six-year-old with a pituitary
condition.
The chief agent made a face in his direction, glanced down at the papers that
filled his desk. At your respective individual debriefings and question
sessions the specific charges against each of you will be read. As he
finished saying this he looked up at Conroy and Vandorm. The charges will
vary.
Luther leaned over to whisper to his buddy. Don't tell em nuthin', BJ. We're
screwed as it is.
No talking in line, said an agent standing nearby. You'll have plenty of
time to talk in a few minutes.
Yeah, how long's this gonna take? said one of the other men from the back of
the line. I got cows to milk in a couple of hours. If the milking ain't done
it's gonna cost me and somebody's gonna pay for damages for sure.
The chief agent shook his head and muttered to the younger man standing next
to him. Can you believe this bunch?
Luther saw someone put a hand on BJ's arm. He looked over and saw that it was
the black agent BJ
had confronted back in the woods.
Well, well. The agent was smiling humorlessly. Lookie who I get to
interview. You come with me nice
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
and quiet-like, country boy. We wouldn't want you to have an accident or
anything between here and the debriefing room, would we?
Angrily, BJ shook the hand off. Keep your hands off me. Just show me where
you want me to go.
Oh, I'll let you know where to go, all right. The agent's artificial smile
disappeared quickly. You just give me a chance, just the slightest excuse,
Page 20
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
and I'll help you get there.
Don't tell em nuthin', BJ! Conroy and Vandorm shouted in tandem as their
simpleminded friend was led off down a side corridor.
You show em, BJ! yelled another. A number of the fainthearted drew
inspiration from the courage of the least man among them.
It's all right, guys! BJ waved back to them as he was led off between the
black agent and one another.
Y'all be good and I'll see you around.
Don't count on it, cracker. The agent's grin had returned. You're under
arrest or have you forgotten?
Shoot, said BJ, loud enough for his friends to hear as they turned a corner,
you ain't got nuthin on me and my friends. We'll be out of here by lunch.
Conroy stared as the janitor was led roughly out of sight by the two FBI men.
Good man, that BJ.
Stronger than most of em if not too bright. Should've kept his mouth shut out
there in the forest. Conroy hoped the janitor would be able to hold up under
the pressure they were likely to put on him. They probably couldn't break him
down physically, assuming such things still went on in law enforcement, but
they might be able to trick him. Yes sir, they just might trick poor slow
good-natured BJ into spilling all the beans between here and Hattiesburg.
Not that it made much difference. The chapter was pretty well dead no matter
what anyone said because it would take a blind man to miss the machine guns
hidden in his pickup.
Who could he blame those on? He had to have someone or there'd be nothing to
tell them. Suppose he said he'd bought the Uzis for a gag? Sure, that was it.
He and a couple of the boys were going to go out and do some varmint shootin',
easy style. Just for fun. That would do for the automatic weapons. Play it
dumb. Didn't matter whether they believed the story or not. It sounded just
like the sort of thing a bunch of good ol country boys would do. A federal
judge would give it more credibility than a local one, who'd know better.
Explaining away the detailed plans for blowing up the ACLU office in Jackson
was going to be a damn sight tougher. That would depend on Sutherlin and the
excuses he made for the explosives in his car.
Conroy worried about that. What use did a certified public accountant have for
fifty pounds of dynamite?
Conroy might have saved himself the mental torment. Down the central hallway,
behind the privacy of soundproof doors, the rest of his friends were already
spilling their guts to their respective interrogators in hopes of getting off
as lightly as possible. Jimmy Cousins in particular was willing to do anything
to keep his name out of the paper, up to and including swearing in court that
Sutherlin and Conroy and all the other senior chapter members were child [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]