NINE
Captain Barger sat in the waiting room outside the office for the commissioner. The Office of Homeland Security – the organization tasked with seeking out witches and other magical beings – had district offices all over the United States. The commissioners of these districts reported directly to the Secretary of Homeland Security who in turn reported directly to the President.
The commissioners in turn ran the various sectors where witches were interned. The internment camps were run by commandants whose job it was to insure that those in the camps remained in the camps. Everyone had a job to do protecting the witches from public outcry. As well as protecting the public from the witches.
Barger was an administrator. It was his job to identify, catalogue, and classify people suspected of being witches. Those that were identified as witches were to be assigned to an internment camp. His job was to assign each to a camp. For the most part it was a very easy job.
"The commissioner will see you now," said a secretary.
Barger stood up and straightened his uniform. It was rare that the commissioner spoke to him. And in his entire tenure as an administrator he had never been summoned to the commissioners' office. No doubt his excellent record had finally been noticed and he was about to get that long overdue recognition he knew he deserved.
He walked into the office and stood in front of the commissioners' desk. He glanced at the name plate on the desk. Darryl Morris, District Commissioner. Commissioner Morris had been a simple police lieutenant when he and his partner, Andy Trudeau, had helped capture the Halliwell witches. After that both of their careers had skyrocketed.
"Have a seat, Captain," said Morris.
"Thank you, Commissioner."
"I've been going over your record. Very impressive."
"Thank you, sir. I do my best. But a lot of the credit goes to my staff. Without them I couldn't so such an efficient job."
"Oh, come now, Captain. Don't be modest. A unit is only as good as its commanding officer. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I suppose, sir."
"I was wondering if you explain something to me."
"Certainly, sir. If I can."
"Can you explain this file?"
Morris handed a manila file folder to Barger. He looked at the name on the folder. Phoebe Halliwell. He thumbed through the folder and found the normal paperwork on all witches currently in the internment camps.
"I don't understand sir. What exactly would you like me to explain?"
"The name for one thing," said Morris. "I assume you're familiar with that particular name?"
"Of course, sir. She insisted her name was Phoebe Halliwell and wouldn't tell me her real name. A soon as we discover her true identity I will amend the file to reflect the appropriate information."
"That's not why I've called you here. Tell me, Captain. Are you familiar with Executive Order 212 of the Office of Homeland Security?"
"Of course, sir. It's required that all personnel commit it to memory before being assigned to their first posting."
"Would you please tell me exactly what Executive Order 212 says?"
"Well," said Barger nervously, "it says 'in the event that a blood relative or a suspected blood relative of the Warren line is discovered they are to be reported immediately to the district office for Homeland Security'."
"And can you tell me why that was not done in this case?"
"Well, sir, it's common knowledge that there are only two Halliwell witches. The mother died shortly after the second daughter was born. No other daughters were born so there is no way there could be a third Halliwell witch."
"I see," said Morris, his temper flaring. "Are you in the habit of making all decisions that affect national security based on popular opinion?"
"No, sir. In all the years that directive has been in place not a single Halliwell witch has ever been identified. Neither of the two Halliwell daughters have had any children and all blood relatives of the Halliwell line have been identified and ruled out. Besides, there's no evidence this woman is a Halliwell. I didn't think…"
"No, Captain, you didn't think," said Morris angrily. "That directive is in place for a reason. The report says that she was caught inside the Halliwell manor."
"Yes, sir, that's correct."
"And how did she get into the manor? It's been sealed off for years and no one can get inside without security being notified. But according to the report she was found – with an as yet unidentified male – on the second floor. Can you explain how that happened?"
"No, sir, I can't. I have someone investigating that right now. We assume there was a glitch in the security net that allowed them to slip inside."
"A glitch?" screamed Morris, slamming his fist onto the desk. "One of the most secure locations in the country and there's a glitch? That is totally unacceptable. I suggest you locate this 'glitch' immediately and fix it."
"We're working as fast as we can, sir. We'll figure out what went wrong and fix it as soon as possible."
"See that you do. Now, about this young woman. Your report indicates that she tested positive for being a witch. Are you sure the results are accurate?"
"Absolutely, sir. We have one of the new Mark IV detection units. It's supposed to be infallible at detecting witches. No false readings like previous units. She has been positively identified as a witch and she's assigned to an internment camp. She's under close guard, sir."
"Which camp did you assign her to?"
"Camp Papa 3, sir."
"You put a possible Halliwell witch in the same internment camp as the other two? Are you a complete idiot? Aren't you aware of the prophecy regarding the Halliwell witches?"
"Of course, sir. Melinda Warren, the witch that started the line, predicted that three of her descendents would become the most powerful witches in history. But sir that's not going to happen. As I said, it's common knowledge that there are only two Halliwell sisters at present. There's no way they could make that prophecy come true."
"That's not your decision, Captain. Your job is to follow your instructions as dictated by your superiors. Which means that anyone identified or suspected of being a Halliwell witch is to be segregated from the general population and reported to my office immediately.
"Now, Captain, if you wish to retain both your rank and your position I suggest you get to Camp Papa 3 immediately and locate this Phoebe Halliwell. She's to be segregated from anyone else and no one – I repeat, no one – is to have any contact with her until a special unit arrives to take command of the situation. Secretary Bennett has all ready been notified of her and is on his way here to interrogate her personally. So if you don't want to end up as a member of Internment Camp Papa 3 you'd better not screw this up. Do I make myself understood?"
"Perfectly, sir. I'll go there immediately and make sure she's isolated. What time is Secretary Bennett expected to arrive sir?"
"In about six hours," said Morris. "And you can bet if the Secretary of Homeland Security learns about your screw up he's not going to be as understanding as I am. You just better hope that when he gets here he's too interested in this Phoebe Halliwell to be concerned with how she managed to evade classification after she was captured."
"Yes, sir. Don't worry, sir. There won't be any more mistakes. You have my word."
"Get out," said Morris as he began to look through the contents of the file folder.
Barger exited the office and headed for his car on the parking level. The meeting hadn't gone how he had first imagined. Now he had to get to Camp Papa 3 and make sure there were no more mistakes.