Missions of the Retrieval Team - A Kilt By Any Other Name

[Birddog]

Sounds like the Moderators need to send in a team of search and rescue dogs with a sharpshooting handler...This sounds like a job for Mac, Céilí, and Finnegan!
Loving this so far, gotta forgive my selfishness at wanting to be in it as well!

[davedove]

Scene 14

CountyJail

The police had taken us to the jail. As we drove through town I noticed something unusual. Every person I saw had on nearly identical clothes. The colors varied a little, but the styles were all the same.

“Look at the people. They’re all wearing the same basic outfit,” I said quietly to my associates.

“Shut up back there!” the sheriff ordered.

Once in the jail, we went through the normal process of being photographed and fingerprinted. They had led the two ladies away to be locked in a cell, but I was taken directly to an interrogation area.

After some preliminary questions, the sheriff was growing impatient. He backhanded me across the face. “What were you doing up there?” he demanded.

“I told you,” I replied calmly. “We were out hiking and followed the road up to the top of the mountain. We were just poking around the ruined building.”

He slapped me again. “You were pretty well armed for simple hikers.”

“We like to do a little hunting too.”

Again he slapped me. “With assault rifles? And what about all that other equipment you were carrying.”

I shrugged. “We like to be prepared.”

“For what?” he yelled at me. “Overthrowing a small country?” He stepped to the table and picked up our signal tracking unit. “I know what this is. I’ve been in this job long enough to know a directional finding unit when I see one. But it’s not tuned to any frequency I know of. What were you looking for?”

“UFO’s?” I replied.

I could see the anger in his eyes. “Do you think this is a joke? What would you say if I said I was going to work over your lady friends next? Or better yet, what if let my boys have a little fun with them? Would you think I was joking then?”

“You won’t do any such thing,” I told him. “We have rights.”

“RIGHTS!” he yelled. “What makes you think you have rights? This isn’t one of those wimpy European countries; this is the United States. You are a suspected terrorist found at a former terrorist stronghold. You’re even wearing the garb of a known terrorist group. You have absolutely no rights whatsoever.”

He leaned in close to me and spoke in a lower voice. “So which one should I let my boys start with? The red head or the pretty little black girl?” he threatened.

Just then one of the deputies came into the room.

“Do you have something?” the sheriff asked impatiently.

“Yeah, Sheriff, and you’ll definitely want to look at it,” the deputy replied.

The sheriff took the printouts the deputy handed him and the deputy left, closing the door behind him.

“Oh, this is interesting,” he said to me. “It seems that your black lady friend has quite a rap sheet. According to this she is currently serving multiple sentences in a New York penitentiary for several counts of burglary.”

“That is interesting,” I said.

“Yes, especially since she is also sitting in my jail cell right now.” He flipped to the next sheet. “Oh, this is even better,” he said.

“What’s it say?” I asked.

“There are no charges whatsoever on record for your red haired friend.”

“So she hasn’t done anything?”

“It’s not that easy. There are no charges on record because there is no record, no information whatsoever. The only thing that comes back on her is a great big ‘Classified’ stamp. That has government agent written all over it.”

He flipped to the next sheet. “Oh, this is the best one of all. There is all kinds of information about you here.”

“Really? What’s it say?”

“Well, ‘Mr. Dove’, there are multiple charges against you: public disturbances, theft, terrorism, the works.” He read on down the sheet. “Oh, now this is very interesting.”

“What, am I rotting in a federal prison right now?”

“No, you’re not in prison, at least not anymore. You haven’t been in prison for about a year.”

“Was I released or did I escape? Did you manage to capture a escaped felon sheriff?”

He walked over me and looked me straight in the eyes. “You weren’t released and you didn’t escape. The reason you are no longer in prison is because one year ago next Tuesday, you were executed for your crimes.”

He put the papers down. “Perhaps you can explain to me how it is I am interrogating a dead man?”