"Neither Major Carter nor his wife had any family other than their children," Polaski said in a hushed tone.
"We'll need to contact Social Services," another man replied. Sam recognized his voice as the man who had introduced himself as the base chaplain. He had been the one as the other stood silently and awkwardly behind him to tell her that both her parents and her brother Mark were dead. Dad had taken Mark with him to pick their mother up, but he'd let Sam stay home to finish backing the cookies she'd been making for her mom. "They'll find a place for her," the chaplain said.
"She's twelve," another male voice protested. "They put the little ones in foster homes. She'll end up in a group home with the delinquents."
"Maybe," the chaplain conceded, "but there's really no other choice."
"Call Social Services," the general commanded.
Sam heard a quiet round of "Yes, sir"s from the men as she wiped the last cookie sheet dry and placed it in its proper place. Her mother always insisted on a clean kitchen, Sam knew, and just because Mom was dead... Sam didn't finish that thought. She couldn't. She filled a plate with the cookies and brought it out to the men in the living room because that's what Mom would do.
By the time the man from Social Services had arrived, so had Mrs. Polaski and several other officer's wives including the generals. That's when the shouting started. The social worker who had introduced himself only as Sydney wanted to take Sam to the group home immediately, but the officers' wives wouldn't have it. They'd sent Sam upstairs to her room where she sat just inside the door listening to every word.
"You are not taking that child out of her home the same day she's lost her entire family and dumping her in an institution," Polaski's wife argued.
"The Phillips Home is hardly an institution," the social worker protested.
"It's a facility for delinquent youth," the general's wife retorted. "It's exactly an institution. That child is traumatized. You can't dump her in there."
"There's really no other choice, ma'am" the chaplain said.
"Bob and I will take her," Polaski's wife offered.
"We will?" Polaski questioned. "Meg..."
"We will take her," Megan Polaski repeated more forcefully.
"I'm afraid that's not possible," Sydney gently objected. Sam liked the sound of his accent and wondered where it was from. "The law is quite clear."
"She will stay with us until after the funerals," Megan Polaski argued. "That will give us several days to find a better solution than the Phillips Home for Girls."
The arguing between the social worker and the officers' wives went on for several more minutes while the officers' stayed mostly out of it. Finally, the general's wife called his name in a sharp no-nonsense tone.
"Mr. Sydney, let me tell you something I've learned about marriage," the general told the young man. "It's something my wife says to me often. 'You can be right or you can be happy.'"
"Sir?" the social worker asked.
"I like to be happy," the general told the young social worker. "Miss Carter will stay with Colonel Polaski and his wife until after the funerals."
Three days later, after the funeral of her parents and brother, the social worker, Sydney, returned to take her to her new home. The day before, Mrs. Polaski had explained that Sydney had arranged for her to attend a private year round school for gifted students. It was better than the Philips Home she had told Sam, but Sam wasn't so sure. It was still a place where she would be all alone without her family.
"Are you ready, Samantha?" Sydney asked her even as he bent down to retrieve her suitcases. "We should get going as soon as possible. We have a long trip ahead of us."
Sam swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back her tears before nodding reluctantly. She was old enough to know that even if she said she wasn't ready it wouldn't make a difference. Mrs. Polaski hugged her tightly then pressed a folded an envelope into Sam's hand. "This has our address and phone number in it and some money for anything you might need on your trip," the woman told her. "If you need anything...anything at all, just call us. Any time. Day or night."
Sam nodded as Sydney took her shoulder and turned her towards the door. "We really must be going now," he said.
Sam climbed into the passenger seat of the car as Sydney placed her suitcases in the trunk then got behind the wheel. Mrs. Polaski had given her a book of crossword puzzles to occupy Sam during the trip. So Sam opened the book and began to work. As the light started to fade hours later, Sam put the book away and stared out the window at the passing scenery. "How much longer," she quietly asked the social worker.
"A few more hours," Sydney responded. "Why don't you sleep for now," he suggested. "I doubt you've slept much in the last few days."
Sam woke hours later as the car finally rolled to a stop before a stone building that almost appeared to be sunk into the hillside. There were people outside waiting for them, Sam realized with a start. Then she realized that a lot of those people had guns. "Why do they have guns?" Sam asked as she unlocked her seatbelt.
"They're hear to protect the Centre" Sydney explained.
"A school needs this kind of protection?" Sam questioned the somewhat vague explanation as she stepped out of the car. "I'd like to call Mrs. Polaski and let her know we got here," Sam asked though she fully intended to ask Mrs. Polaski to come and get her instead.
"That won't be necessary," a small thin man with a cigarette dangling from his hand responded. "Take her to her cell."
Sam's eyes widened and she stood still with shock for a split second then took off running. Her smaller legs were no match for the athletic full grown men who quickly chased her down and grabbed her from behind. "No!" she screamed as she swung her leg back towards the man who carried her with his arms wrapped around her chest. "No!" she screamed again kicking and squirming trying to force the man to drop her.
"I told you we should have taken her sooner," Sydeny was saying to the man with the cigarette as the guards dragged her by.
"And end up with another Major Charles hunting us?" the cigarette man demanded. "No, the parents had to be eliminated first. Have her brought to my lab in the morning," he called to the guards as they dragged her towards the doors.
"There is no need for that, Raines" Sydney objected.
"You can see she's too old to be malleable," the man called Raines replied.
"You don't want another Angelo," Sydney argued.
"Angelo has his uses," Raines responded.
"Please, give me some time to work with her," Sydney plead as the guards carried her through the huge metal doors. "I know I can get her to cooperate."
Sam continued to struggle as they carried her down a long hall to an elevator. She was so focused on her struggle with the guard that she almost didn't realize that the elevator carried them down and not up. When the doors opened though it was to a long stone corridor ripe with the dank smell of being underground.
"Let me go," Sam begged the man who carried her. "Please, let me go. Please!"
The man didn't respond not even with a twitch of expression. A moment later he stopped and Sam had a brief hope that he had been listening to her pleas and was about to let her go. He didn't though. He only waited for his partner to open the door in front of their small procession. He lumbered into the room and dropped her on the cot along the back wall then walked out before she had a chance to get to her feet.
"Let me out!" Sam screamed banging her fists against the door that had slammed shut behind the two guards. "Let me go! This is kidnapping. Child abuse! You can't do this!"
"They can do whatever they want," a young voice told her.
Sam stopped her pounding. "Who are you?" she asked. "Where are you?"
"I'm in the next room," the voice replied. It came from the air vent high in the wall of her cell. When she looked she could see a boy slightly older than she herself through the metal screen. "I'm Jarod," he told her.