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Sitting around the table, we took turns sharing our recent interrogation experience. We answered questions, then pondered plausible options. To intervene or stay away? The opportunity cost?
Frank, Joshua, Addison, Brett, Mr. Maddox, an uninvited Committee representative (their security personnel), the other two Scout Team leaders, and me. Unfortunately, Cord and Diana have yet to return. A fact no one seemed to notice.
We considered the recent visit and shared their cautionary message. Thirty minutes of questioning, bird-walks, the paramount concern… is there someone spying on us? Not the IED, lost wagon and supplies, beat-down, nope, just the warning. Who and why are they spying on us? Is there a mole in our community? Am I the reason for this mess? Am I the cause? This all started with the ‘murder’ of our doctor. My role, the Team. The recent spread of wanted posters. Rewards. Dead or Alive.
In the interrogator’s words… stay away…honey pot…don’t look back, or come back…the twelve…and a scribbled note la ayuda…
Do we just walk away? Why not? They seem fine. Why get involved? Twelve females… why so many? Any men? Claire in charge. Her connection with the Regional Governess? Only saw three who appeared armed. Why the note? Was there someone lurking nearby, listening? Where did they get materials to construct explosive devices? Great location to watch the Well. They appeared well kept. Did they need help or a trap? Our review dribbled on. Everyone with an opinion. Lots of talk. Blah, blah, blah…
“JESSE!”
“Sorry, squirreled for a moment.”
“What’s the plan?” Frank asked.
“Hell if I know. Addison, your thoughts,… anyone?”
Crap, here we go, back down the rabbit hole. I scan the proverbial room. Frank and Committee, both overly eager to move forward, Joshua and Brett cautious, Mr. Maddox a definite no, and Addison, a thinker thinking, the apparent brains of the gang.
The other Team Leaders, pulling back, whispering.
Addison addressing no one in particular but looking at me. “Sucks to be you. You know, this team leader thing. Lead.”
Stomach churning. Stand and… see a runner heading our way, stopping at our table, halting to catch her breath, “They’re back.”
Addison, stepping into my line of sight, hands on her hips, head cocked, is expecting an answer.
Thoughts crashing together, intermixed, God my heard hurt, Cord and Diana in view, Susan and her status, the hilltop, twelve women, self-reliant or detained, a trap, the Regional Governess, rewards, dead or alive, the lives of the Scout Team, the needs of the Well,… unveiled indecisiveness.
I never asked to lead. All I wanted was to hide away, serving meals in the kitchen. In my mind, I see Emily huddled on the roof that night, afraid, an inebriated, crazed doctor. He shot first, missed. Why did he miss? I hear Diana’s voice.
“We found her. We have a plan.”
A moment of clarity, looking about, finally, looking at Addison, “It’s a quagmire, a ruse. We walk away.”
Silence, a moment of reflection, when the Scout Team Leaders stood and declared, “We’ll do it.”
Could only shrug, thinking, do what, you will either be heroes or victims, leading others to their demise.
“I’m finished…” looking at Diana, “a plan?”
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