and were roughly shaking the detainees to get them awake and on their feet. They were ushered out of the container, and Hutchinson saw that they were on the beach of what looked like an island. They were ordered to walk single-file up the beach along a road that took them to the plateau several meters above.
Once at the top, Hutchinson saw the prison camp clearly. There were a number of long metal buildings surrounded by at least three fences made of chain links and razor wire with more razor wire between the fences. Guard towers were everywhere, and machine guns were plainly visible.
They were led into a building near what looked like the main gate. Once inside, they were introduced to the “Commandant,” who spent 20 minutes going over the rules and warning the detainees of the punishments they’d be subjected to for any rule breaking. A technician attached a computer cable to each of their ankle bracelets and, using a similar hand-held device as the one used in Cuba, entered additional codes into the device before disconnecting the cable.
The Commandant led them out through the rear of the building and to the three gates that provided the only safe passage into the interior of the prison camp. Once through the gates, Hutchinson turned to see the gates closing and the guards, both in the towers and on the ground, watching the detainees closely.
“Welcome to the Navassa Island Internment Facility – your new home,” the Commandant shouted to the new detainees as he turned to go back to his office.
5
June 2, 11:30 AM
Nashville, TN.
Sergeant Will Choquette looked at the clock on the wall of the precinct and inwardly groaned. It had been a nightmare of a day already, and he was only a couple of hours into his shift. He glanced at the calendar on his desk to see if it was a full moon yet and saw that he had over a week to go before the moon was full again. He was trying to find any reason why things were so strange.
Crime was down nationwide, but Sergeant Choquette’s fellow officers were busier than ever. He wanted to take the time to study the reports to see if there were any patterns or links between the incidents, but there was no time to do anything but hope that someone would be able to get to them soon.
Choquette looked up to see a worried-looking woman in her late 50’s standing in front of his desk. “May I help you?” he asked.
The woman sat down in the chair next to his desk. “Yes, sir,” she responded. “My boss has disappeared, and I don’t know where he is.”
“What’s your name?” Choquette asked the woman.
“Alice Findlay,” she responded, handing Choquette her National ID Card.
Choquette took her National ID Card and scanned it. Her contact information popped up on his computer screen. He validated that the name she gave and the photo on the Card matched before grabbing his incident report notepad and a pen. “What’s your boss’ name?”
“Arnold Hutchinson. He’s the editor of the Nashville Free Press.”
“When did he go missing?” Choquette asked, recognizing the name.
“Two days ago. He came to work at his normal time. I went to the break room to make a fresh pot of coffee, and when I returned, he was gone. His briefcase and car keys were still in his office. I tried to access the GPS chip in his cell phone – he gave me the code in case I should ever need to find him – and it says the phone is turned off. He’s never missed a day of work in the 10 years I’ve been his assistant, and I’m worried. He’s not at his house, and no one has seen him since he arrived at the newspaper two days ago.”
Choquette finished writing down the information and decided to look Hutchinson up on the computer to see if he had been admitted into any of the local hospitals. One of President Sanborn’s initiatives was to automate hospital admittance so it would be easier for law enforcement to know which hospital someone was in. He entered Hutchinson’s name and waited for the computer to respond.
A moment later, the screen returned with a notation that Choquette had never seen. It read: “Code 63855 – Refer to HSF.” Puzzled, Choquette tried a different screen, but got the same message.
“Well, he doesn’t seem to be in any of the local hospitals,” Choquette said as he turned to face Mrs. Findlay. “I’ll file this report, and we’ll let you know what we find out. I have your contact information. Someone will call you as soon as possible.”
He handed her Card back to her as she stood up. “Thank you. If you need any information, or if you find out anything, please call me.”
After she left the precinct, Choquette left his desk to find his supervisor. Lieutenant Bob Cochran was in his office when Choquette arrived. “Do you have a moment, Boss?” Choquette asked.
“Sure, Will. Come in.”
Choquette came in and sat down across from Cochran. “What’s up?” Cochran asked him.
“I entered the name of a missing person into the system, and got a strange message.”
“What was the name?”
“Arnold Hutchinson, the editor of the Free Press.”
Cochran was surprised at this. Hutchinson was a prominent figure in the community and a true friend to the police force. He turned to his computer, entered Hutchinson’s information, and waited for his computer to respond.
“Is this the message you got?” Cochran asked, turning his computer screen so that Choquette could see it.
“Yes, that’s it. Do you know what it means?”
“I’m afraid so. Close the door, will you?” Cochran replied in a low voice. Choquette leaned back and closed the door of Cochran’s office.
“I got briefed on this a couple of days ago. ‘Code 63855’ refers to Executive Order 63855 which allows for the detaining and internment of non-combative domestic persons who are suspected of providing aid to terrorists. ‘Refer to HSF’ means that this person has been placed under the jurisdiction of the Homeland Security Force, and any questions regarding this person must be directed to them.”
“You mean Hutchinson is being detained by the government for helping terrorists?”
“So it seems.”
“And Homeland Security can detain people in their own prisons without a trial?”
“So it seems.”
Choquette looked at his supervisor in stunned silence. The implications of this were huge. “What do I do with this report?” he asked finally.
“Go ahead and put it in the system. It’ll automatically get routed to the HSF, and they’ll handle it however they want to.”
“Have you seen this before?”
“Yes, this is the fifth one since last week.”
“Off the record?” Choquette asked his boss, letting him know that he wanted Cochran’s personal opinion on something. Cochran nodded.
“Are you okay with this?”
Cochran thought about it for a moment before answering. “No. This country was based on a series of laws and rules governing the justice system. Now we have a group of national police, who answer to no one but the President, arresting people and putting them in prisons outside the justice system. I’m not okay with this at all.”
“Is there something we can do?”
“I don’t know,” Cochran replied.
“Do you think we should tell the Order?”
Cochran nodded. “There’s a meeting tomorrow night. We should alert the Commandery and see if they want to report it to the Grand Master.”
Choquette stood up, feeling slightly better that the Order would be informed about what was