Date: Mon, 28 Aug 2000 17:05:49 -0700 (PDT)
From: Orrin Rush <orrinrush@yahoo.com>
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