25 MINUTES LATER. PUEBLO, COLORADO. 7:55 PM MST. MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2025.
“Well,” Leslie said,
“you can cook, and that’s something. Seriously, James, you can’t
spend the rest of your life being my best buddy and nursing your
crush on me. You’re way too nice a guy for that.” She spooned some
of his elk-liver gravy onto the hot cornbread, and joined him at
the table. “I can’t be your whole social life, dude, it’s not
natural.”
“Who says I’m pining?
We like each other’s company, right? That’s why we keep hanging out
together. It was kind of painful, and obviously I wish you’d felt
differently. I admit all that, but that was way back before
Daybreak. I’ve been alone most of my life. I just like to have a
few good friends, and let it go at that.”
“James—really. The
city is crawling with widows, nice women your age who would be
glad—”
“If I’d be glad. Look, Leslie, we’re calling each other
by name a lot, and that usually means we’re pretending we’re not
fighting. We’ve been having dinners together most Mondays, pretty
much forever. That’s not my whole social life. I teach Tuesday,
Wednesday, and Thursday, Friday nights I go to martial arts after
the school meeting, and Saturday I have the RRC Board meeting. If I
like to spend Saturday nights with a book and Sundays loafing
around the house, well, that’s the only alone time I have for it
anymore. I don’t spend my whole week pathetically waiting to cook
for you on Monday night, and I don’t feel like I’m alone too much,
in fact—or wait, is it just you want to do something different on
Mondays? Without me, I mean?”
“See, James, this is
how I can tell you’re lying, you should see how afraid you look
right now. And the answer is no, I hope we have twenty more years
of Monday dinners, especially if you keep making that mixed berry
pie, but my point is, the way you reacted to—”
The knock was very
loud.
When James opened the
door, three big, muscular militiamen came in, without invitation,
and a slim young officer came in behind. “Leslie Antonowicz, our
orders are to take you with us, and not to let you communicate with
other people. We’re required to cuff you, and you won’t be allowed
to bring a purse or personal effects; Sergeant Mason will
confiscate any of those and take them with him.”
James asked, “Don’t
you have to read her rights?”
“Not for a national
security case.”
“When can I say I’m
innocent?” Leslie asked.
“As often as you
want, but you’re not going to be seeing anyone who will do anything
about it for a while.” The officer added, “We’re authorized to use
force.”
Leslie stood still
for a moment, then picked up her purse from the table and said,
“Sergeant, this is all I was carrying.” James made a noise, but she
said, “James, let’s not get your house trashed, let alone you
arrested. I’ll come along. James, please feed Wonder, and get
Heather and Arnie—”
“Ms. Antonowicz, we
said no communication. Is Wonder your
dog?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have food
and water and somewhere out of the weather for
tonight?”
“He’s in my house,
but he’ll need to, you know, go, and he’ll be hungry—”
“Is he
friendly?”
“Too friendly. He’ll
want to be buddies with everyone.”
“Good. I’m
supervising the search and seizure on your house. We’ll take care
of Wonder this evening, and then, Mister Hendrix, if we can set you
up—”
“I have a key,” he
said, flushing furiously. “I’ll go over tomorrow morning and move
Wonder here, or you can bring him here tonight—”
“We’ll bring him here
tonight, then. It won’t be late.”
The care they were
taking of Wonder made it all real, somehow. Leslie wiped her face
angrily as the tears poured down, but they pushed her hands down to
cuff them behind her.
James tried once
more. “Can’t you say what this is about?”
“Specific orders not
to. The order is direct from Heather O’Grainne.”
Leslie’s blood froze.
Her eyes met James’s, and he looked as stunned as she felt. Before
either of them could speak again, she was dragged out the door, not
roughly, but with no possibility of resistance.
The guard held up the
lantern just long enough for her to see that her room had a pitcher
of water, a cup, a squat toilet, a cot, and a blanket, but no
window. He left her in total darkness, sitting on the cot, crying.
She had no idea how long it was before she felt for the cup and
pitcher and found her way under the blanket, or how long she lay
there, willing herself to sleep, and failing.