Julian nodded and stepped over to Jackery’s table.
“Who are you?” said the judge.
“Julian Sands, Esquire at your service—your honor.”
“He’s a major league defense attorney,” said Jackery. “I’ve seen him on the news.”
“Are you willing to represent this scum?” said the judge.
“I am.” Julian turned to Jackery. “Assuming he keeps his mouth shut and does exactly what I say.”
“If you get me out of this, I’ll pay you whatever you ask,” said Jackery. “Five million. Ten million. Anything you want.”
“What did I just say?” said Julian. “Shut your goddamn mouth and sit down.”
Jackery opened his mouth to reply but caught himself. He nodded instead and sat down in the chair. Julian stood behind him.
“Do you need a chair, Mr. Sands?” said the judge.
“No, thank you, Your Honor. I get the feeling this isn’t going to take long.”
The judge smiled. “You got that right.”
“Before we get started, may I have a few minutes to consult with my client in private?”
“You may not. And save your breath with any motions you might want to make regarding dismissal or exclusion of evidence. Consider them denied. Now, is the prosecution ready to proceed?”
“I am, Your Honor,” said the grizzled commander.
“Call your first witness.”
Barb was fascinated by this wrinkle. To see Julian pulled into the charade of a trial was high entertainment indeed, and she would have liked nothing better than to stand and enjoy the show. But there was one more key step in her plan, and the distraction offered her the perfect opportunity to arrange it.
She took a few steps back, blending into the crowd of onlookers. She wound her way around, moving in a giant semicircle toward the opposite side of the improvised courtroom. All the while, she kept a face in sight. This face belonged to a young woman Barb hadn’t seen anywhere inside the grocery store. This woman stood alone, clearly not a part of the local families. She also wore an expression made up of equal parts shock and disgust. She looked like an innocent who’d had her illusions abruptly shattered. Barb couldn’t be 100% certain, but she had a strong intuition as to the identity of this stricken young woman.
“Excuse me,” she said, stepping up next to her. “Your name wouldn’t be Marcy, would it?”
#
“In the beginning, I was happy to have such an important job right out of college. I mean, I have friends who are driving DoorDash while they apply for every entry-level position they can find.”
“It’s hard out there,” said Barb in her best maternal voice. “Especially for a woman.”
“Exactly.”
They were standing in the shadow of the Park-N-Shop, far enough away from the trial to give them a little privacy.
“And he was so smart,” said Marcy. “He knew about so many things. Plus the way he lived with jets and servants and, my God, have you seen his house? It’s like a Renaissance palace. But the thing that got me the most was he trusted me. He shared his thinking about the decisions he made, decisions with millions of dollars at stake. And he trusted me with assignments that really mattered. It was a heady experience.”
“I have a number of friends who used to work for Peter,” said Barb. “They tell exactly the same story.”
“There are others?”
“That’s his MO. He finds young, impressionable women he can indoctrinate to carry out his requests without asking questions.”
“Oh, God. I’m so stupid.”
“Not at all, dear. Just young.” Barb patted the girl’s arm. “The important thing is you’ve seen through the act. Consider it part of your education. The next position you take, you’ll be that much wiser and more useful to your employer.
“Will there be a next one?”
“Absolutely. We’ll help find the right spot for you. There are actually bosses who value an honest assistant over a pliable child.”
“I feel so dirty,” said Marcy. “I honestly thought I was helping Peter make an ideal future. I believed his stories that the people were being selfish and unreasonable about selling their properties. I even accepted the militias as a necessary evil.”
“Of course you did. You’re loyal, and you want to believe the best about the people you work for. Those are good things. A manipulator like Peter plays on them. The important thing is your eyes have been opened.”
“When I saw what he was going to do to those poor people, locking them up and tearing down their houses, I felt sick. I thought about my Nana and her farmhouse. All the precious memories she has there.”
“The good news is none of that is going to happen. Peter has been stopped in time.”
“Are they going to kill him?”
“That’s ultimately up to him.”
“How?”
Barb explained her plan. When she was done, Marcy shook her head.
“He’s not going to like that at all.”
“I don’t imagine he will. But it’s the only way to make things come out with a happy ending. And it’s going to take your help.”
“What would I have to do?”
“Hold on.” Barb took out her satellite phone and dialed her Shit Club buddy.
“Geneva,” she said. “It’s Barb.”
“We were getting worried,” said her buddy. “No one’s heard from you.”
“There was some drama. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” said Barb. “Anyway, remember when we were talking about Jackery’s latest assistant?”
“The true believer?”
“No longer. Her eyes have been opened. She’s ready to do the right thing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. But she can’t do it alone. Could you reach out to some of the other girls who’ve been in her position?”
“What are you thinking?”
Again, Barb explained her plan. When she’d finished, her buddy let out a long, low whistle.
“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” she said.
“Thank you, dear.”
#
Jackery sat at the table at the foot of the flatbed. His whole body ached from the pummeling he’d received, and he was surrounded by stupid, ugly men who planned to kill him before the hour was out. Yet he was filled with a buoyant hope the man standing behind him could work a miracle on his behalf.
“The prosecution calls Commander White Fox of the Legion of Patriots.”
An overweight man somewhere north of 50 and wearing baggy army fatigues stepped out of the crowd. He climbed onto the flatbed and took a seat in the chair beside the judge’s table.
“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth on your honor as a patriot?” said the judge.
“I do.”
“The prosecution may proceed.”
“Commander Fox,” said the prosecutor. “Can you tell us what you heard less than 10 minutes ago?”
“I heard, as we all did, a call from this piece of shit to the FBI.”
Jackery grabbed Julian’s arm and yanked. Julian glared at him. Jackery yanked again. Julian bent down.
“Aren’t you going to object?” hissed Jackery.
“Shut the fuck up,” said Julian under his breath, returning upright and stepping out of Jackery’s reach.
“What else did you hear in this call?” said the prosecutor.
“He’s been working for them this whole time. Once he’s finished using us to do his dirty work, he’s planning to have us all rounded up.”
“In your considered opinion as a leader of men and a valiant and true patriot, does that make this man a traitor?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Do his actions constitute treason?”
“What else would you call it?”
“I’m asking you, sir.”
“Of course it’s treason. Pure and evil. A man who would do these things doesn’t deserve to live.”
“Now, now,” said the judge. “Sentencing is my prerogative.”
“Sorry, Your Honor.”
“No more questions,” said the prosecutor.
The hope that had buoyed Jackery’s spirits minutes before had taken quite a beating as the so-called testimony proceeded without Julian saying a word in objection. But Jackery still held tight to the remnants of that hope as his lawyer stepped forward.
“Commander Fox,” he said. “When you say you heard this conversation, don’t you mean you heard a recording of a conversation?”
“Same difference.”
“And what was the quality of the audio?”
“Say what?”
“Did you hear this recording on a high-fidelity system? Perhaps through a pair of professional-quality headphones?”
“Now you’re being a smarts.”
“Answer the question, please.”
“I heard it over the radio. We all did.”
“The handheld, out-of-date, low-fidelity radios prone to static and distortion?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” said the prosecutor. “He’s leading the witness.”
“You made your point, Mr. Sands,” said the judge, looking at his watch. “Move on.”
“Is it possible, Commander, that what you heard was not a recording of an actual conversation but rather one that had been simulated or assembled out of examples of my client’s voice?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? Isn’t that exactly what my client did barely twenty minutes ago to make you believe Sheriff Westford was the traitor?”
That seemed to give everyone pause, the judge included.
“No more questions,” said Julian.
“Can I ask another question, Your Honor?” said the prosecution.
“You mean redirect,” said the judge.
“What?” said the prosecutor.
“It’s called ‘redirect.’ Never mind. Just ask him.”
“Is this man just a smart-ass fancy-pants big-time lawyer who will say anything to make us doubt what we all heard with our own ears?” The prosecutor pointed to Sands. “Like the way the deep state stole the election and put everyone in jail who tried to tell the truth.”
“Objection,” said Julian.
Thank God. Finally, the man was fighting back.
“What’s the problem?” said the judge.
“Election fraud has never been proven.”
“Overruled,” said the judge. “It’s a stone-cold fact, and everyone here knows it.”
Julian looked as if he might say something in response, then thought better of it.
“So, is that all you got, Mr. Big-time Lawyer? Or do you have any more leading questions to ask?”
“Not of this witness, Your Honor.”
“How about you, Mr. Prosecutor? Do you have any more witnesses to call? I hope not. We need to move this thing along.”
“I’m done, Your Honor.”
“Does the defense wish to call any witnesses?” said the judge. “And they better be real ones and not delaying tactics, or I’ll find you in contempt of court, and we’ll line you up and shoot you, too.”
#
After Barb finished overseeing the preparation for her plans, she turned and walked over to gawk at the Jackery trial.
A militiaman was on the flatbed, and Julian was striding back-and-forth in the distinctive way he did when he was questioning witnesses. Barb once again wound through the onlookers until she was at the front of the crowd. By then, the witness was climbing down off the flatbed, and the judge was asking Julian if he had any witnesses of his own to call.
At the question, she had a sudden intuition of how he was going to respond. So it didn’t surprise her when he called out in his most dramatic courtroom voice, pointing in her direction.
“I call her.”