In the parking lot she found her driver right where she had left him that morning after they had made their run to drop off reports and summaries generated by the night shift. Staff Sergeant Lightfoot was already well into his second Clive Cussler novel when he saw Nancy coming. Setting aside the dog-eared paperback he adjusted himself on the seat of the well worn and over-mileage National Guard sedan as he prepared to make another run. Lightfoot had followed Nancy Kozak over to this assignment not because the duty required an NCO of his grade or experience. His transfer came after he vocalized his opinion of her relief in terms that could best be described as colorful and unvarnished. Since it was determined that she would need a driver, the state sergeant major stuck Lightfoot with the officer to whom he seemed so loyal.

Lightfoot’s devotion to her came as something of a shock. She hardly knew the man. She had worked with him only on those occasions when her previous duties had required her to spend time at the ammo site. What it was about her that had impressed this quiet and dedicated Guardsman was beyond her. But she didn’t complain. Even if few words were exchanged, his companionship was the only bright spot in the whole sordid mess.

Opening her door, Nancy tossed the stack of envelopes and papers onto the seat. Pausing, she caught the sight of a pair of bearded militiamen fondling their newly issued M-16A2 rifles. Wearing new camouflage shirts that couldn’t be buttoned over their midsections if they tried and black baseball caps inscribed with their militia unit motto, the two sported toothy grins. As she watched she could feel her anger rising.

Turning her head away, she climbed in. Sergeant Lightfoot, who had been watching the two on and off, grunted as he started the car. “Looks like it’s going to be a great day for Bubba and Billy Bob,” he stated flatly. “I wonder what they’ll be hunting tonight?”

“Whom,” Nancy corrected him. “You meant to say ‘whom,’ I’m sure.”

Lightfoot looked over at her. “I think you and I already know the answer to that.”

“Well,” Nancy sighed as Lightfoot pulled out of the crowded parking lot, “I’m sure the Governor knew what he was doing when he armed those folks. How did he put it?”

Lightfoot quoted the governor’s pronouncement, word for word, from memory. “Against all the enemies of this state, its people, our cherished Christian values, and those God-given freedoms and liberties that were laid out in the Constitution of the United States and its first fourteen amendments.”

“Which, I guess, doesn’t include me since women didn’t get the right to vote until the nineteenth amendment,” Nancy added as she started to go through the envelopes looking for the one containing the latest INSUM, or intelligence summary.