The Court Martial Read online

  He readily admitted to being in the Corps, in the hopes it might curry favor with them and keep them from killing him out of sheer patriotism.

  What he didn’t tell them was that he was also a former cop.

  He was well aware that the swagger of a retired police officer closely resembled the swagger of a former Marine. It wasn’t an air of cockiness, necessarily, but rather an air of self-confidence and self assurance. A feeling that, while he wasn’t always the toughest guy on the block, that he was certainly capable of taking care of himself and providing protection to his friends and family.

  If he allowed it to be known he was a former Marine it might never occur to them he might have a law enforcement background as well.

  It was a smart move on Frank’s part, for Josie confided to him early on if they knew he’d been a police officer they’d have killed him outright.

  The Dykes clan didn’t like cops, you see.

  Another way Frank tried to keep himself alive was to ingratiate himself with the family.

  Certainly not by trying to be cocky or a know-it-all, although it was quite obvious he knew more about survival techniques than all of them put together.

  No, he kept his knowledge rather low-key, merely volunteering to help occasionally and dropping hints he could make their lives easier.

  John, the oldest of the brothers and therefore their leader, thought Frank was crazy when he said he could make a few changes to their sleeping arrangements and make things much more comfortable.

  But it was no skin off John’s nose so he told Frank to go ahead.

  Frank used plywood and the wood from old wooden pallets to build an enclosure around the burn barrel.

  He called it an “enclosure” instead of a room because, as he put it, “rooms normally have full ceilings.”

  His enclosure had only three quarters of a ceiling. The rest was left open to allow for smoke to escape to the warehouse ceiling vents high above the enclosure and to prevent anyone from dying of carbon monoxide poisoning.

  The enclosure was relatively small on purpose, so that the tents could be huddled around it.

  Each tent was about five feet or so from the barrel. Plenty close to make use of the heat it put off, yet far enough away to reduce any chance of fire.

  The new walls helped retain the heat, and the walls were painted white to reflect the light and brighten the area around the barrel.

  Lastly, he talked John into scheduling a night sentry, to feed wood into the barrel periodically so their heat source would last throughout the night instead of burning itself out around two a.m.

  One by one, the Dykes went to Frank in the days after he finished his project, thanking him for finally letting them sleep warmly through the night.

  No longer did they wake up shivering and cursing each morning, then having to build a new fire from scratch to warm themselves again.

  Even the die-hards: the ones who’d wanted to shoot Frank right after he arrived, were suddenly glad they’d kept him around.

  Frank didn’t realize until his project was finished there were two distinct drawbacks to it.

  The first time he and Josie became intimate in the new enclosure they were the subject of ridicule. The next day brother Jacob gave a play-by-play of everything they’d done the night before and humiliated both of them.

  Tents, it turns out, offer very little soundproofing with their thin nylon walls.

  The other problem was that no one could carry on a conversation without someone overhearing them.

  They discovered that the second night when the entire clan heard Eddie talking softly in his sleep.

  Josie hated it when Frank kept things from her.

  But under the circumstances she had no choice other than to roll over, go back to sleep and wait until morning to learn his big secret.

  -3-

  The following morning the two of them stole away like thieves into the bowels of the warehouse, where they could confer without being overheard.

  “We’ve been working under the assumption that we had to wait for most of the snow pack to melt away before we can get out of here,” Frank said. “But maybe we can leave sooner than that.”

  “But how, honey? You said yourself that if the snow is higher than the Hummer’s bumper we’ll push it in front of us. And that before long it would bog us down.”

  “Yes, and that’s still true.

  “But if we can devise a way to move most of it out of our way, so that what we actually drive on is lower than the bumper, we’ll pass over the top of it.”

  “But how on earth will we do that?”

  “The same way a snow plow does it.”

  “But honey, a snow plow has a…”

  He finished the thought for her.

  “A plow in front. Or more specifically a plow blade.”

  “Exactly. Where on earth are we going to get a plow blade? And how are you going to secure it to the front of the Hummer?”

  “We’ll make one. And we’ll also devise a means of attaching it to the front rack.”

  She paused for a moment to digest his words.

  They still made no sense to her.

  Obviously his vision, as she saw it in her mind’s eye, differed greatly from his own view.

  “But honey, how are you going to fashion a heavy metal blade without somebody… you know… noticing?”

  “It won’t be metal. It’ll be plywood.”

  “Will plywood hold up?”

  “It will if I build it sturdy enough.”

  She fell silent.

  She had enough faith in her husband to believe he had a plan.

  She’d learned not to doubt him when he built the enclosure around the burn barrel.

  Everyone else thought he was crazy when he said he could raise their sleeping temperature several degrees and brighten the common area where they spent most of their waking hours.

  Everyone else told him so, too.

  They ridiculed him.

  They doubted him.

  They said it couldn’t be done.

  They were proven wrong.

  For her part, Josie never openly doubted him.

  But she wondered if he’d made promises he shouldn’t have made. She wondered if Frank was trying so hard to “win their hearts and minds” that he was going to fall flat on his face.

  She was worried his big scheme was going to make him a failure in the eyes of the others.

  But his project turned out to be a resounding success.

  It did everything he said it would do.

  She’d never let herself doubt him again.

  Still, she wanted more information.

  She recognized that Frank had a different way of looking at things. He had a more technical mind.

  He, way more than she, had the ability to cast aside the idea that something couldn’t be done. And to replace it with another idea.

  An idea that said, “I need for this to happen. How’s the best way I can accomplish it?”

  “Tell me more,” she said.

  They made a great team, the two of them did.

  Frank was itching to share his plans with her. He knew that if there were any flaws in his idea she’d be able to see them. And that together they could work out any bugs.

  “There’s a pallet of plywood on the far side of the building, over there where they were going to remodel the receiving office when Saris 7 struck.

  “It’s half an inch thick. Not quite thick enough, in my opinion.

  “But I’ve got millions of nails. Plenty to take three pieces of plywood and nail them together.

  “We won’t need a hardened steel blade. We’ll be pushing a lot less snow.

  “A piece of plywood an inch and a half thick will be plenty strong for our purposes.”

  “Honey… Frank, baby… I don’t want to challenge you. I’m just trying to understand how it would work so I can picture it in my mind. But I just don’t see how plowing headlong into a snow bank isn’t goin
g to break a plywood plow blade.”

  “We won’t drive headlong into it, honey.

  “I’ll mount the blade at an angle. Instead of pushing the snow into a big pile it’ll push it out of the way. Just like a snow plow on the highway doesn’t push the snow into a pile in front of it. It shoves it off to the side, onto the shoulder of the road.”

  “But won’t it be a lot harder to mount it at an angle? And will it really hold up to the weight of the snow?”

  “Yes. And yes.

  “The frame will be the hardest part. I’ll have to make it out of four by fours.”

  “You mean like fence posts? Do we even have any of those?”

  “No, we don’t. But we have plenty of two by fours. And two two by fours nailed together are actually stronger than a four by four made from a single piece of wood.”

  “Na-uh. You made that up. You’re messing with me now.”

  “Nope. It’s absolutely true. Pieces of wood fastened together are always stronger than single pieces of the same dimensions. That’s because they have the flexibility and give that single wood pieces don’t have. They give just enough to keep the wood from snapping. A single piece will break long before two pieces fastened together to make a piece of the same dimensions.”

  Frank’s claim defied all logic. Yet she believed him because… well, because he seemed to know what he was talking about.

  And because, to her knowledge, he’d never lied to her before.

  Frank was a former police detective and a former United States Marine.

  He was honest to a fault, because his personal integrity was a thing he valued greatly.

  -4-

  Frank’s integrity and his lifelong habit of being truthful didn’t prevent Josie from asking a boatload of questions, though.

  “Okay, honey, I believe you.

  “But how in the world are you going to attach it to the Hummer?”

  “I have to make some measurements, but I should be able to make a frame that’ll make the passenger side of the blade flush against the brush rack. The same frame will push the driver’s side of the blade thirty degrees away from the brush rack. And I’ll cut the plywood down so that it extends from just below the bumper to just above the hood.”

  “Okay. But what’s a brush rack? Is that the same as my rack? Because my rack is the only rack you’d better be messing with, Buster.

  “Just because you’re a big bad Marine don’t mean I’m gonna let you be messin’ with somebody else’s rack instead of mine.”

  She smiled sweetly.

  Frank had to contain his laughter.

  He’d always been a huge flirt.

  Men from Texas almost always are.

  In Josie, though, he’d finally met his match.

  She knew that she could win any argument, diffuse any situation, and grab his undivided attention, just by flirting with him.

  Just the week before, while Frank was slaving away in the back of the warehouse, she checked to make sure everyone else was napping or reading, then sprinted all out toward him.

  She skidded to a halt just around the corner from him, removed every stitch of clothing she had on, then snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she said. “I heard a rumor there was a big strong Marine around here somewhere. I’ve always had a desire to have my way with a big strong Marine. Do you know where I can find me one?”

  She didn’t go quite so far today, but she still caught his attention and made him smile.

  “The brush rack is that heavy steel frame attached to the front of the vehicle.

  “It’s bolted to the vehicle and is sturdy enough to support the weight of the plow blade and the pressure of the snow being pushed against it.”

  Josie seemed just a bit disappointed that he didn’t take her bait, but Frank wanted to finish their conversation before someone else happened along.

  Cousin Eddie, who everyone called “Crazy Eddie,” had a bad habit of searching for them anytime he got bored and wanted something to do.

  Eddie had a damaged mind.

  Though a full grown man on the outside, he was still a little boy at heart, in mind and in his playful soul.

  Eddie loved playing games like hide and seek.

  And he loved sneaking up on people.

  Frank knew that Eddie could, at any moment, jump out from behind a box and yell “Boo.” He’d scare the heck out of Josie and put Frank into an instant and instinctive fighting stance.

  The last time he did such a thing was the day he was peeking out of his tent window and saw Josie furtively surveying the living area and taking a head count before sneaking off into the warehouse.

  His curiosity piqued, he followed her and watched from around a corner as Josie had a romantic rendezvous with her husband.

  Eddie had his share of girlfriends before his mind went and missed the closeness the newlyweds were enjoying. So much so he confronted them and asked them, quite earnestly, whether he’d ever have a chance to find himself another woman.

  They turned a very awkward situation into a teaching opportunity, explaining to Eddie that the world wouldn’t be frozen forever. And that there was someone for everyone.

  “When the world thaws out again, would you help me find someone, just for me, who won’t call me names or make fun of me and say I’m stupid?”

  It broke Josie’s heart when she had to change the subject, for she couldn’t bring herself to lie to her cousin.

  But she couldn’t promise to help him find a woman of his own. When the thaw came she and Frank would be hundreds of miles away, setting up a new home in south Texas.

  Josie couldn’t sleep for days after that.

  She knew that Eddie couldn’t help the way he was. Further, he deserved a chance at love as much as anyone else in the world.

  She firmly believed that there really was someone for everyone.

  She knew that some kindhearted women sought out men like Eddie and chose them to be their husbands.

  It wasn’t fair that Eddie, because of his disability, would probably never have the chance to love again and to be loved.

  She swore to herself that, while she didn’t know how she could possibly pull it off, she’d find a way to help him.

  Frank listened to her promise and, while he agreed that Eddie needed and deserved her help, he feared it was a promise which she could not fulfill.

  “Just don’t tell Eddie of your plans,” he told her.

  “But why?”

  “Because I fear it’s a pipe dream that you cannot fulfill. If you tell him he’ll be heartbroken if you fail. If he never knows it can’t hurt him.”

  “I’ll fulfill the promise, Frank. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way to do it.”

  Now, here, as Frank explained to her how he planned to build and mount his makeshift snow plow, she brought up another problem which seemed even harder than his construction project.

  “How are you going to explain to the others why you’re making a wooden snow plow blade? Don’t you think they’ll hear you sawing and hammering and come over to see what you’re up to?”

  “That’s the beauty of it, honey. All you have to do is take a skateboard off the pallet in Aisle 54 and start riding it.

  “Until it’s assembled, the pieces will look like I’m making a very crude skateboard ramp. We’ll convince them I’m making it for you because we both got bored and went looking for new things to do.”

  -5-

  At Joint Base Lackland in southern San Antonio the base populous was divided along roughly equal camps.

  Word had gotten around that colonels Morris Medley and Tim Wilcox would soon be tried in a general court martial for breaking into the Air Force Chief of Staff’s top secret bunker on the far side of the base.

  One group, the hard-liners, wanted the accused to pay for their mistake with their lives.

  After all, they should have accepted that the bunker was important. The fact it was highly
classified and its construction was directed by the Department of Defense should have been enough for them to mind their own business.

  They listened to a civilian, of all people. A civilian who told them a rogue colonel was having the bunker constructed for himself and his cronies.

  The hardliners were incredulous. The colonels should never have listened to a civilian not even affiliated with the Air Force or the DoD. How in heck could she possibly know what she was talking about?

  What they did was mutinous at best, treason at worst, and they must pay the piper for their sins.

  The other camp was a bit more forgiving.

  Colonels Wilcox and Medley, they firmly believed, were placed in an impossible situation.

  Due solely to their military rank they were given the responsibility to serve as the base commander and his deputy when the positions became vacant.

  They were doctors by trade. Surgeons with many years of operating room experience.

  But absolutely zero experience in running a very large and very complex military base in a time of national emergency.

  The “Set them free” camp maintained the colonels were in over their heads from the beginning. That they were doomed from the start.

  It didn’t help that the old base commander destroyed all the classified correspondence he had pertaining to the bunker and what it was to be used for.

  It didn’t help that the colonels didn’t even know the bunker existed until a friend came forward.

  And contrary to the hardliners’ contention, Hannah Snyder, the civilian they had such disdain for, was indeed in a unique position to know a bit about the bunker.

  She’d been taken for a helicopter tour of the restricted part of the base.

  She’d witnessed the bunker being constructed, but it didn’t click at the time what she’d seen.

  The alleged “rouge colonel,” Travis Montgomery, told her he headed up a project to feed the people of San Antonio and Bexar County, and needed massive amounts of livestock and produce to accomplish his mission.

  Hannah later found out he was lying. The people of San Antonio were left to fend for themselves.

  And yes, she was a civilian.