Home Invasion - J. A. Johnstone [75]
“He’s opened up the hospitality of his home to us,” Parker said. “We owe him some consideration.”
“And he’s a fellow American,” Ford added. “We don’t shoot our fellow Americans.”
“What about those guys from the FPS?”
“We don’t shoot our fellow Americans unless they’re trying to shoot us,” Parker said.
“And unless they’re probably conspiring to murder a bunch of other Americans because of some power-hungry politician,” Ford said.
Callahan pointed out, “That ain’t startin’ from the beginning.”
Ford lifted his glass of whiskey and nodded to the rancher. “You’re right, sir. As far as we’ve been able to put the story together, it’s like this….”
Callahan listened without interrupting as Ford explained what had been going on during the past week. Parker and Earl spoke up a time or two to clarify a point.
As Ford wrapped up the summary, he said, “I understand if you think we’re lunatics. But I swear, that’s the way it all happened, and as far as we’ve been able to figure out, there’s only one man who could be responsible for it, as hard as it may be for you to believe that.”
Callahan let out a dismissive snort. “You really think that because a bunch of damn fools were crazy enough to vote the man into office, I wouldn’t believe he’s capable of doin’ what you say?” The rancher shook his head. “I’ve heard the man talk on TV. He thinks he’s smarter’n everybody else and that him and his buddies ought to be in charge of everything ‘cause they’re smarter’n us. The people who work and pay the taxes and keep the whole damn country going! Hell, is there anybody in that whole damn crowd who’s ever held down a real job? They’re all professional politicians.”
“So you do believe us?” Parker asked.
“You sound surprised, boy.”
“Well… most people wouldn’t.”
“You mean most people who let Hollywood and New York and Washington tell ’em how to think wouldn’t believe you. With all the things that’ve been goin’ on in Texas lately, I wouldn’t put anything past that skunk in the White House.”
Ford asked, “What do you mean, the things that have been going on in Texas?”
Callahan leaned forward in his overstuffed armchair and frowned. “You haven’t heard about Home?”
“Home?” Ford repeated. “Whose home?”
Callahan shook his head. “That’s the name of a town. It’s a ways north and west of here. Hell, it’s been all over the news the past few days.”
“We’ve been a little busy,” Ford said. “Trying to stay alive and all, you know.”
Callahan snorted again. He picked up a remote control from a table beside his chair, pointed it at a wall full of bookshelves, and pushed a button. Two sections of the shelves slid back to reveal a giant-screen TV. Ford, Parker, and Earl stared at the rancher.
“What?” Callahan said. “I reckon you didn’t see the satellite dish out back. Remind me to show you my computer system later.”
Another push of a button turned the TV on.
It was tuned to one of the cable news networks. “Only one of the bunch I can stand to watch,” Callahan said, “and even they’ve gotten a mite too cushy there in Washington and New York. They’ve started pullin’ their punches lately. I reckon they’re runnin’ scared like ever’body else who don’t say and think exactly what that bunch wants ’em to.”
The anchor was talking about a bill making its way through Congress that would expand the federal government’s control over education nationwide. When that story was finished, he said, “Now, in other news … Tensions continue to run high in the small Texas town of Home today after the President issued an executive order yesterday placing the community and the surrounding area under the control of the Federal Protective Service. After several so-called anti-immigrant riots in Home in recent days, the President declared martial law and sent in the FPS to disarm the citizens.”
“He’s trying to take away a whole town’s guns?” Ford asked in disbelief.
Callahan motioned for quiet. “Just listen.”
“Yesterday when the FPS arrived in Home to set up a command post, one of the citizens went on a shooting spree, the second such