The guard hesitated, and John stepped around him.
“Bullshit trooper,” John snapped as they continued on. “No guts when facing someone really pissed off.”
“Keep it calm, John,” Ed whispered.
“Not after what I just saw,” John snapped.
They stepped into the cool darkness of the courthouse. The fluorescent lights were off this morning. Another security guard blocked their way as they came into the foyer.
“Your weapons,” he snapped as a preemptive order.
“Yeah, right,” John growled, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a pocket Ruger semiautomatic, and slapping it on to the table. “Careful, son. It’s actually loaded.”
The guard glared at him but said nothing then turned to Ed.
“Like hell,” Ed announced loudly, his voice echoing in the foyer. “I am chief of police of my town, and for fifteen years, I’ve walked in and out of here and never surrendered a weapon unless going into a courtroom. So like hell, son.”
He started to step around the table, and the guard stepped back, unclipping the safety strap of his holster.
“Listen, boy, you are an amateur,” Ed snarled. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be before the devil or Saint Peter. So just leave your gun in that holster.”
“Sir, step back three feet, turn around, and keep your hands over your head.”
“Go ahead and try it.” Ed was actually grinning. “I was sick of your type before the war, and I’m doubly sick of you now.”
“Sir, I will shoot to disable you.”
“Oh, really? Go ahead, damn you!”
John began to step between the two.
“Charlie, back off.” It was Dale, storming out of his office with two security guards in tow.
The guard looked away from Ed, and John’s friend laughed. “You village idiot. Wrong move, Charlie. Bang-bang, you’re dead.” Ed was holding up his empty hand, forefinger pointed at the guard, thumb moving like a gun hammer.
One of Dale’s guards did have his gun out and drawn in reaction to Ed’s gesture, and for a frightful instant, John thought Ed was a dead man.
Dale actually came to a stop, letting the guards move in front of him.
“Everybody just freeze!” John shouted, and his command voice was firmly in place, echoing in the cavernous foyer.
All looked to John, except Ed, whose hand was not on his holster but only inches away with the safety strap unbuttoned.
“Now everyone work with me, and let’s calm down. Mr. Fredericks, please ask your personnel to relax. Ed, can I have your permission to remove your weapon myself and put it on the table?”
“Go to hell, John.”
“Ed, please, let’s defuse this calmly. Okay, my friend?”
Ed continued to stare intently at the guard who had drawn a weapon but finally nodded in agreement. John stepped up to his friend, deliberately letting the jumpy guard at the front desk and the ones now blocking off Dale from harm see him draw Ed’s weapon out with thumb and forefinger and place it on the table next to his Ruger.
There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief, and Dale stepped around his two guards. “John, can I see you in my office?”
John and Ed fell in behind Dale, Ed looking back over his shoulder menacingly at the two security guards who followed them all the way into Dale’s office. The guards stood unmoving until Dale finally gave a nod of dismissal.
“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out,” Ed quipped as the two exited.
“Damn it,” Dale snapped as soon as the door was closed. “I got enough trouble around here today without you two pulling that scene out there.”
“Us pulling it?” Ed replied hotly. “I’ve been chief of police for fifteen years. Rules were I kept my sidearm in the building. Hell, there was even an incident in here some years back where folks were damn glad I was armed. Only time I was to disarm was when I went into a courtroom to testify. I’ll be damned if some black-uniformed rent-a-cop orders me to disarm and is so damn stupid I could have blown his ass away in response.”
“And you two would have been dead,” Dale retorted icily. “Those two you just insulted are trained security specialists, and they know their business.”
“Your personal bodyguards, Mr. Fredericks?” Ed cried.
Dale was silent.
“Well, if they’re so damn professionally trained, they forgot something.” Ed reached down and lifted up his right pant leg to reveal a Ruger like the one John had strapped to his ankle. “Some frigging security, Dale.”
Dale gazed at him coldly.
“So do I keep it, or do you call your goons?”
“I suggest you leave this meeting now,” Dale replied, and there was a flicker of a smile, but John could see the coldness behind the mask.
“And if I say no?”
“I’ll have you escorted out. The rules here are now firm. No firearms carried into this building.”
“Then call your goons, and let’s see what happens.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Ed,” John interjected. “Let’s all cool it down here. We didn’t come here to argue about the policy of carrying in this building. Ed, there are bigger fish to fry at the moment.”
“You telling me to leave, John? Is that an order? Because I’ll be damned if I part with my ankle shooter now.”
John put a reassuring hand on the shoulder of this man who had stood by his side through two long, terrible years. “Ed, for the sake of the moment, as a favor, please go along with it.”
“That was our problem before the Day. Just go along with it. It was always ‘just go along with things’ as we kept stepping backwards, and look where it landed us.” As he spoke, his gaze was fixed firmly on Dale.
Dale did not move, but John could see his eyes going wide, features paling. “I will call my security team in ten seconds,” Dale replied.
“Oh, now the threat to bring in the gestapo.”
“The what? How dare you!”
“Ed, please cool off,” John whispered, trying to sound reassuring. “Please help me with this.”
There was eye contact, and Ed finally nodded and without a word turned and walked out of the office, slamming the door hard.
“He’s a hothead, John.”
“He’s saved my life more than once. He helped keep our town together, and frankly, he had every right to be pissed off just now.”
Dale opened the cabinet and motioned to the bottle of scotch. “I think we could both use a drink after this.”
John shook his head in refusal.
“John, this country is still at war, and some rules have to change. For the security of this building, no weapons except by designated personnel is now firmly one of them.”
“Rules changed. Like killing innocent civilians?”
“Sit down, John. You’ve had a hard day.”
“You’re damn straight it’s been a hard day after what I saw a few hours ago and what your hotshot pilots pulled on me after that.”
“I heard you were up in that plane. Why in God’s name did you go up and stick yourself into the middle of that fight?”
“Because it bordered territory I feel responsible for. That’s why.”
“A bit of advice. There are times when a man in our position has to learn to delegate. And second, as a military man, you should have immediately grasped it was a military operation under way, and to go sticking yourself smack in the middle of it was foolhardy, and you know it.”
“A military operation authorized by you?” John asked coldly.
“John, regarding you. Thank God my pilots are well trained. One of them radioed in about your plane, and I ordered him to hold his fire. Otherwise, they were about to dump you out of the sky, thinking you were one of the gangs we were taking care of today.”