CHAPTER FOUR – Into The Lion's Den

The team was prepared to physically chain Jon to the ship if he tried to break into the prison. They had to play this smart. Rogers had a piece of paper that theoretically allowed him to take Jennifer, but the loopholes were on their side, not Rogers'.

One moment, they had been ready to launch themselves at Rogers; the next, they were waking up on the ground with no Rogers, no guards and no Jennifer in sight. They'd been stunned and left unconscious, only to be awakened by a very sycophantic, worried Mayor Ibold.

Jon was beyond angry.

This wasn't the Jonathan Power that would revere human life no matter the person, no matter the risk. No, this was the Jonathan Power that would destroy anything between him and his kidnapped wife, and not even Dread himself would have been brave enough to stand in Jon's way when he was like that.

"I don't know what to say," Ibold repeated as he watched Jon slowly pace the length of the jumpship.

"How about how Rogers didn't want us at the feast?" Hawk demanded. "How about how all you mayors ganged up on him for the first time and told him to sit down and shut up and not say one word about Jennifer? How about how you were more than willing to turn him loose on us without any warning? How about how you stood back while one of our team was kidnapped? And while we're at it, how about how all of you are involved with what Rogers is doing?"

"No, no, no, you don't understand," Ibold protested. "Rogers is the authority here. He's like the Committee's right hand in New Chicago. We can only do so much without his approval or sanction or we'd end up like the inmates. He'd use us for the hunt. We hate what he's doing, but we can't stop him. I knew that if you came to the feast at my invitation, then the people could see that I had more powerful connections than Rogers did, and we could stand up to him, maybe stop him. He'd be the one who would be afraid to retaliate. I had no idea that Corporal Chase was a member of the Dread Youth."

Tank grabbed Ibold by the shirt and lifted him a foot off the ground. "She was Resistance."

"But she had been a member of the Dread Youth. That's all Rogers needed to get an arrest warrant from the Committee."

"Committee?" Jon charged Ibold, grabbed him away from Tank and shoved him against the hull of the jumpship. "What the hell is this Committee? The Council covers civilian law and does NOT have the authority to issue arrest warrants of soldiers. All Dread soldiers were categorized as soldiers regardless of their positions in the Dread Youth and are under Command authority until their culpability in the war is determined. That was agreed on between the Council and Command. Who gave Rogers a signed arrest warrant so he could kidnap my wife?"

Ibold was terrified. He was almost too scared to breathe. He stared at Jon in disbelief. "Wife? I didn't know she was your wife. Last I heard, the Committee ruled that the Dread Youth couldn't marry –"

"What?"

Ibold took a quick breath. "The Committee has suspended all rights for the Dread Youth. They can't marry, can't observe special days, aren't recognized as legally independent entities –"

"And all of you just go right along with it?" Jon asked him, his voice edged with anger. "You're committing crimes against people who had no idea what the truth was, and you have the gall to tell me that my wife isn't married to me?"

"Captain, I'm only a mayor, and I have to follow the rules being set up by the new governments… I didn't know she was your wife. Honest."

"Tell us what you know about this Committee."

"It's Command and Council personnel," Ibold's voice was very shaky. "No one knew who had jurisdiction over certain individuals, plus the Council and Command kept stepping on each other's toes, so the Committee was created to oversee all new laws. Rogers said that they outrank the Council and Command when it comes to dealing with the Dread Youth. They keep the Committee quiet --"

Jon threw Ibold to the ground. "Quiet? That means the Committee isn't an official government organization. It's covert. That's why we haven't heard anything about it before now. Scout, track any communications out of here in the last fifteen hours. Find out who Rogers talked to. Then contact Elzer. See if he's delivered the information we sent yet. Tell him the problem might be in the government itself and to go directly to General Grey if he hasn't already. Ibold," Jon's almost murderous gaze dared Ibold to try to run, "I want to know two things. Where would Rogers keep Jennifer and how exactly does the hunt work?"

Ibold was shaking in fear, his voice trembling. "The hunt is just that. It's a hunt. A Dread soldier is let loose somewhere out in the wilderness. Sometimes two or three at a time. Then Resistance soldiers are sent after them to hunt them down."

Tank loomed over Ibold. "And?"

"And they catch them and kill them, usually. It's a hunt," Ibold's voice kept breaking.

"Usually?" Hawk asked.

"Look, I don't know exactly what goes on out there. I don't know for certain what they do with the prisoners once they catch them. From what we've heard, most times, they just shoot them down as they run, but I've heard stories about others. Like there are some they don't kill. Some put up such a good fight, they're kept alive for whatever reason."

"Alive?" Tank asked. "Why?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you? The Dread Youth are slave labor. They're put to work doing anything that needs doing – or anything Rogers' people wants doing. The Committee said they don't have rights, they don't have any standing, and they can be used to rebuild the world they tried to destroy. They're put to work doing various tasks. They'll work the farms and in the factories, some are domestic help, but from what I hear, the ones they put on the hunt, they'd rather be killed than be captured alive again. I think a lot of them force the soldiers to kill them on the hunt rather than live another day. I don't know exactly why."

"And Jennifer? Where's she?" Jon asked again.

"As far as I know, he houses all new captures in the prison in solitary confinement, Captain. Then they're checked out at the local hospital and determined if they're suitable for the hunt or for manual labor. The ones he loans out to the towns to do the work are housed in the cells on the east side. That's where the entry way is, so it's more convenient to move them in and out. Some of the high profile prisoners or the ones who give him trouble are kept in the lower sections for specialized punishment or re-conditioning. The ones for the hunt… I don't know exactly where he keeps them."

"High profile?" Hawk asked. "Jennifer Chase is a member of this team. We led the final attack against Dread. She's one of the leaders of the Resistance. How much more high-profile can you get?"

"What do you mean by specialized punishment and re-conditioning?" Jon's voice was flat, almost deadly in tone and inflection.

Ibold swallowed. "Some of the overunits and youth leaders are hard believers. Nothing has stopped them from thinking that the Machine is superior and that organics must be destroyed. Rogers has no use for those because he can't get any work out of them and they refuse to listen to reason. They won't run on the hunt either. I heard he sends them to the lower sections. A few days down there, and they're more than willing to run on the hunt. I hear it's bad there."

Scout was ready to toss Ibold through the bulkhead. "And?"

"And what?" Ibold almost cried. "I don't know what happens down there, but I do know we don't ever see those soldiers again either."

That was enough. Jon was losing the tenuous control on his temper. "You're thinking that Jennifer is there. Where exactly are the lower sections?" Jon asked.

"I don't know," Ibold answered.

Tank reached down to grab Ibold, but he scooted back. "I don't know! I've never been to the lower sections. I've heard it's like a dungeon. It's dark and damp and a lot of them die pretty quick from starvation or sickness or exposure. There have been reported suicides. Even if she is down there, Rogers can't let anything happen to Chase, don't you understand? She's too well-known."

"He got a warrant," Hawk reminded him. "Even if he had to write in her name himself, someone doesn't think she's too famous to keep from being kidnapped by a power-hungry –"

"Got it," Scout interrupted. "The warrant was requested by Rogers' immediate superior, a Colonel Ted Travis."

"A colonel? He'd be under Command's authority," Jon thought out loud. "He'd have to go through the channels to request a warrant, then Command would have to request it from the Committee, right?"

"That's how it's supposed to work given what we know about how Command works, but the warrant came from the Committee with absolutely no mention of Command," Scout told him. "Maybe they can't have warrants falling under two jurisdictions? But why not go to Command in the first place?"

"Maybe because it's Jennifer? She's a former Dread Youth, a member of this team and we're not regular military. They don't know if she would be considered a Dread soldier, a Resistance soldier or a civilian. Plus, she's too high profile for her arrest to be left to chance. They're covering their bases?" Jon thought aloud, trying to think of multiple scenarios. Maybe that was the first good loophole they had. "Tell Elzer what's happened. Let's see if he can find out who Travis is in league with. As for you," he grabbed Ibold and jerked him to his feet, "you are going to help me get my wife back, safe and sound, and if she's hurt in any way, I will take it out of your hide. Understand?"

Ibold understood completely. "What do you need?"

"Easy. You and the other mayors are going to supply details of Rogers' work. You're going to denounce him, and then you're going to do everything in your power to capture, arrest and put Rogers on trial. My wife is inside that prison, doing her job and I've got to let her, but we're getting her out of there as soon as possible."

~*~*~*~*~

Minutes passed slowly.

Jennifer tried to pass the time by counting the sound of slowly dripping water as each drop hit the ground somewhere. She soon tired of that.

Then, she mentally performed mathematical equations. After she tired of that, she imagined how she was going to re-task the holographic system on the jumpship. Then she thought about several books she wanted to read and considered how to get long-range communications set up between New York and Peru with the existing technology. Jon's birthday was in a few months and she had no idea what to get him. All she could do was keep her mind occupied while she waited for something to happen.

Something had to happen soon, right?

One trick they taught the Dread Youth was how to gauge the passage of time without any type of timepiece. It was what they called an interior chronometer. Jennifer had once thought it somewhat useful, but over the years, she'd found that she was fairly accurate in her time-keeping guesses. She believed that maybe five hours had passed since she was at the jumpship. No one had come by with food or water. No one had spoken to her. For a while, the noises had stopped and everything was quiet. Later, she could hear other voices, perhaps other prisoners. Maybe she could find out where she was exactly.

She grabbed the bottom part of the small window in the door and hoisted herself up. She could see other doors, other windows, but now she could hear the murmuring a little more distinctly.

"They won't talk to you," a frail voice behind her said.

She dropped down and looked in the darkness. She thought she was alone. There had been no movement, no sound other than her.

"Who are you?" she asked, hoping her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

"Youth Leader Terese Vincent," was the answer.

Jennifer could almost make out the form of the young woman as she dragged herself closer to the door. She was weak, emaciated, her hair shorn and her clothes hung on her thin limbs. "How long have you been here?"

She answered with a raspy breath, "Weeks, I think. They put us here to die after we're captured if they don't use us for the hunt or work."

Die? Jennifer wasn't ready to go down that road again. Not yet. "They can't do that. All the overunits and youth leaders are to be given trials."

Terese didn't have the strength to scoff or smile. "You believed that? They're liars. No trials for us. They just toss us in here and leave us if we don't run. When we die, we'll be tossed in unmarked graves."

"Rogers can't get away with that," Jennifer muttered.

"Rogers? He's at the New Chicago prison. Not here. Can't stop him from doing anything."

That didn't sound good. "Where's here?" Jennifer asked.

"Facility 7. They call this place the Lower Sections."

Facility 7 had been a Dread prison outside what used to be Indianapolis that the Resistance had liberated at the end of the war. It was almost 200 miles away from Chicago.

It also meant the others thought she was in New Chicago, not Indianapolis.

They had no idea where she was.

Now what was she going to do?