in total darkness.
As the truck began to move, Ed said to Nate, “Here we go. If we get separated, keep up the fight. If you get out of here someday and I don’t, keep up the fight. No matter what, keep up the fight. If people like us just lie down and take the hand that is dealt us all across the country… let’s just say I would hate to even imagine things going down that way.”
For the next few minutes as the truck drove over bumps and swerved around turns, every move exaggerated by their lack of sight, Ed and Nate sat in silence, contemplating the myriad things that may await them at their destination. As the van pulled to a stop, both men sat up and covered their eyes, temporarily blinded by the sunlight shining in on them from the opened rear door.
A figure stood in the doorway, obscured by the light. “Out!” the figure ordered. Ed and Nate hesitated, causing the man to repeat his order with an even more forceful tone.
“Okay. Okay. We’re coming,” replied Ed as he helped Nate out of the van. His eyes adjusting to the light, Ed looked around and saw ten-foot tall sheet metal walls with multiple rows of razor wire across the top. He saw a large cargo plane at a low altitude on climb-out, apparently having just taken off from somewhere nearby. A sharp jab in the back urged him forward as a large steel door built into the wall slid open.
“Inside,” the rather unfriendly escort ordered.
Leading Nate inside, their escorts were relieved by two men in solid-blue utility uniforms resembling military BDUs. Both appeared to be unarmed with the exception of tasers and batons. One of the men was of African descent, while the other appeared to be a Latino-Caucasian mix. Ed noticed this detail, as he was surprised to see personnel on this level who were not Russian, which had been their experience until now.
“Right this way,” the Latino man said with a very American-sounding accent.
Sounds like a Jersey accent to me, Ed thought, still taking mental notes.
Looking around, trying to get a grasp on their situation, Nate said, “Hey, guys, we need to slow down a bit; since they took my leg, I can only go so fast, even with his help.”
“You had a prosthesis? Who took it?” asked the man of African descent, also seeming to be an American by his speech.
“Your Russian buddies when we first got here. Any chance I can get it back?”
“That wouldn’t be standard procedure, but there isn’t much we can do about it. Those guys basically do their own thing through a different chain of command.”
“Yeah, man, we just work here,” answered the other man.
“That’s above our paygrade, anyway. Our job is to get you in-processed. After that, you’ll be assigned to a dorm leader who will be your point of contact for the duration of your stay in the camp.”
While Nate was conversing with the two men, Ed took advantage of the distraction to glance around. He noticed that inside the wall, there was another similar wall, set back approximately thirty feet from the first one, with two steel doors, one on the left, and one on the right. This inner wall had razor wire coiled around the top as well. “What camp? Where the hell are we and why are you two helping them?”
“Just doin’ our jobs. You’ll have to direct the rest of your questions to your quad leader.”
In reply, Ed grumbled, “What the hell is a quad leader?” He then continued to assist Nate.
The men ignored his question and led them to a camper-style trailer parked in the far right corner, in between the two walls. Reaching the trailer, Nate took hold of the grab handle by the door and hopped inside on one leg, with Ed and the two men in blue following closely behind.
“Who is this?” asked a man inside the trailer wearing a similar uniform. He appeared to have more authority, however, as he wore a sidearm on his belt.
“1242 and 1243,” answered one of the escorts.
Thumbing through a stack of folders, the man with the gun
As the truck began to move, Ed said to Nate, “Here we go. If we get separated, keep up the fight. If you get out of here someday and I don’t, keep up the fight. No matter what, keep up the fight. If people like us just lie down and take the hand that is dealt us all across the country… let’s just say I would hate to even imagine things going down that way.”
For the next few minutes as the truck drove over bumps and swerved around turns, every move exaggerated by their lack of sight, Ed and Nate sat in silence, contemplating the myriad things that may await them at their destination. As the van pulled to a stop, both men sat up and covered their eyes, temporarily blinded by the sunlight shining in on them from the opened rear door.
A figure stood in the doorway, obscured by the light. “Out!” the figure ordered. Ed and Nate hesitated, causing the man to repeat his order with an even more forceful tone.
“Okay. Okay. We’re coming,” replied Ed as he helped Nate out of the van. His eyes adjusting to the light, Ed looked around and saw ten-foot tall sheet metal walls with multiple rows of razor wire across the top. He saw a large cargo plane at a low altitude on climb-out, apparently having just taken off from somewhere nearby. A sharp jab in the back urged him forward as a large steel door built into the wall slid open.
“Inside,” the rather unfriendly escort ordered.
Leading Nate inside, their escorts were relieved by two men in solid-blue utility uniforms resembling military BDUs. Both appeared to be unarmed with the exception of tasers and batons. One of the men was of African descent, while the other appeared to be a Latino-Caucasian mix. Ed noticed this detail, as he was surprised to see personnel on this level who were not Russian, which had been their experience until now.
“Right this way,” the Latino man said with a very American-sounding accent.
Sounds like a Jersey accent to me, Ed thought, still taking mental notes.
Looking around, trying to get a grasp on their situation, Nate said, “Hey, guys, we need to slow down a bit; since they took my leg, I can only go so fast, even with his help.”
“You had a prosthesis? Who took it?” asked the man of African descent, also seeming to be an American by his speech.
“Your Russian buddies when we first got here. Any chance I can get it back?”
“That wouldn’t be standard procedure, but there isn’t much we can do about it. Those guys basically do their own thing through a different chain of command.”
“Yeah, man, we just work here,” answered the other man.
“That’s above our paygrade, anyway. Our job is to get you in-processed. After that, you’ll be assigned to a dorm leader who will be your point of contact for the duration of your stay in the camp.”
While Nate was conversing with the two men, Ed took advantage of the distraction to glance around. He noticed that inside the wall, there was another similar wall, set back approximately thirty feet from the first one, with two steel doors, one on the left, and one on the right. This inner wall had razor wire coiled around the top as well. “What camp? Where the hell are we and why are you two helping them?”
“Just doin’ our jobs. You’ll have to direct the rest of your questions to your quad leader.”
In reply, Ed grumbled, “What the hell is a quad leader?” He then continued to assist Nate.
The men ignored his question and led them to a camper-style trailer parked in the far right corner, in between the two walls. Reaching the trailer, Nate took hold of the grab handle by the door and hopped inside on one leg, with Ed and the two men in blue following closely behind.
“Who is this?” asked a man inside the trailer wearing a similar uniform. He appeared to have more authority, however, as he wore a sidearm on his belt.
“1242 and 1243,” answered one of the escorts.
Thumbing through a stack of folders, the man with the gun
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