“You’re absolutely right.”
Harry was on a roll and continued, “My son still had to register for the draft in case they ever bring it back. But my daughter didn’t. What’s that all about?”
“Precisely. You have a son and daughter?”
“Yeah.”
“Married?”
“Divorced,” Harry replied.
“Ah, me, too.”
“Women will drive you crazy,” Harry said.
“Only if you let them.”
“Well, we let them.”
Madox chuckled. “We do. Anyway, you’re here on surveillance for the Federal Anti-Terrorist Task Force. Why?”
“How long were you in Vietnam?”
Madox looked at Harry Muller for a few seconds, then replied, “Two tours of one year each, then a third tour that was cut short by an AK-47 round that missed my heart by an inch, nicked my right lung, and broke a rib on the way out.”
“You’re lucky to be alive.”
“I tell myself that every day. Each day is a gift. Have you ever been shot at?”
“Five times. Never got hit.”
“
“I know. I’ve got friends who’ve been hit.” He thought of John Corey, but he was fairly sure that Corey was the same wiseass both before and after getting hit. He said, “Sometimes, I think I should have volunteered. Vietnam was over, but I could have still served. Maybe I would have caught the Grenada Invasion or something.”
“Well, don’t be hard on yourself. Most American men have never served. And to tell you the truth, war is a damned scary thing. And now we’re engaged in this war on terrorism, and you, Mr. Muller, are apparently on the front lines. Correct?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“And by terrorism, we generally mean Islamic terrorists. Correct?”
“Yeah… but-”
“So, are you looking for Islamic terrorists here? Can I help?”
Harry was forming a thought, but Mr. Madox went on, “If there’s anything I can do, Mr. Muller, just let me know. There’s no one who feels more strongly about winning the war on terrorism than I. How can I help?”
“Uh… well… here’s the thing. About five years ago, I was on this case of Irish Republican Army guys- terrorists-only about fifteen miles from here. They had a training camp.” Harry filled in Madox on the case and concluded, “We sent eight guys to Federal prison for terms ranging from three to twenty years.”
“Ah, yes. I remember that because it was so close to here.”
“Right. So, this is the same thing. We’re checking a lot of private preserves to see if there’s any suspicious activity involving the IRA. We’ve had intelligence reports that-”
“So, this has nothing to do with Islamic terrorists?”
“No. Not today. We’re doing IRA.”
“Seems like a waste of time and resources in light of 9/11.”
“Well, I think so, too. But we need to keep on top of everything and everybody.”
“I suppose.” Madox thought a moment, then asked, “So, you think the Custer Hill Club is… what? A training camp for the Irish Republican Army?”
“Well, the bosses had a tip about activity in this area, so I got picked to take a peek. You know, in case people were using your property without you knowing.”
“No one can enter my property without me knowing, as you just found out.”
“Yeah, I see that. I’ll report-”
“Certainly not people engaged in paramilitary training.”
“Yeah, I-”
“And that doesn’t explain why you were taking pictures of my
“Yeah. I got turned around.”
“You certainly did. The point is you
“Well, yeah. I need to check about a dozen properties in the area.”
“I see. So, I shouldn’t feel singularly honored?”
“Huh?”
“I shouldn’t feel picked on?”
“No. Just routine stuff.”
“That’s a relief. By the way, do you have any sort of government warrant for these activities?”
“I do… but not with me.”
“Aren’t you supposed to carry the warrant with you?” He waved his hand over the desk and said, “We didn’t find anything, even when we looked up your rectum.” Mr. Madox smiled.
“Hey, fuck
“Excuse me?”
“Shove it up
He realized he was lying on the floor, and a cold sweat covered his body. His eyes were blurry, but he could see Carl standing over him, tapping the cattle prod into his palm as if to say, “You want another jolt?”
Harry tried to stand, but his legs were rubbery. The other guard got behind him, lifted him under his arms, and dropped him back into his chair.
Harry tried to steady his breathing and his quivering muscles. His eyes were still unfocused, and everything sounded tinny in his ears.
One of the guards gave him a plastic bottle of water, which he could barely hold.
Mr. Madox said, “It’s amazing what electricity can do to a person. And there’s almost no visible evidence. Where were we?”
Harry tried to say, “Fuck you,” but couldn’t get the words out.
“I think you were trying to convince me that you were on a routine assignment looking for IRA training camps. I’m not convinced.”
Harry took a deep breath and said, “It’s true.”
“Well then, let me reassure you there are no members of the Irish Republican Army on my property. In fact, Mr. Muller, my ancestry is English through and through, and I have no fondness for the IRA.”
Harry didn’t reply.
Madox said, “Okay, let’s cut the IRA crap and go right to the heart of this matter. What, exactly, do your superiors think is going on here?”
Again, Harry didn’t respond.
“Do you need electrical encouragement to answer my question?”
“No… I don’t know. They didn’t tell me anything.”
“But they must have said something like, ‘Harry, we suspect that the Custer Hill Club is…’ what? How did they characterize this place and its members? This is really important to me, and I want you to tell me. You’re going to tell me now or later. Now is easier.”
Harry tried to clear his head from the electrical jolt and think about his situation. He’d never been on the wrong side of an interrogation desk, and he’d never had the experience or training that would guide him in a situation like this.
“Mr. Muller?”
