Roger’s swimming practice was uneventful Tuesday morning; both Tom and Jessica were safely dressed in their suits and everyone was working hard at trying to improve their times by watching for extraneous movements and keeping their strokes smooth and regular. Roger was putting extra effort into his fly stroke; being the most difficult stroke, a good time would be very productive in swim meets.
After practice, Tom came over to talk as they showered.
“Hey buddy,” Tom said, “thanks for the advice you gave Coach about our wearing suits. I forgot to tell you yesterday. Cirota called us to his office and was making a fuss about him making us to stay on the Program for as long as we practiced and competed with suits—for the rest of the year even—but when Coach came in he took the Program booklet and showed Cirota the ‘protective’ clothing part. Then Coach said that as the supervising teacher for the activity, he had the duty and right to determine how ‘protection’ should be defined. Cirota had to shut up then.”
“So you think you’ll be okay with the Program for the rest of the week?” Roger asked.
“Yeah, it’s no big deal, like I said yesterday. I’m used to being naked in public—but at my resort, everyone else is nude too, so it’s a weird feeling being naked alone, but it’s not terrible. I hate not being able to cover up when I pop a boner because that’s a pretty big no-no in a lot of nudist circles. It’s like farting at a cocktail party; you get unwanted attention. You’re supposed to cover up or jump in the pool or lake till it goes down, so when it happens here in school, I really feel ashamed, ‘cause that’s what I learned. The other shit, well, I’ll deal with it as it comes, I guess.”
“Wow, I wish I were as brave as you. I still can’t see myself getting naked and walking around school.”
“Me? It’s not brave. The girls are the brave ones; public nudity takes enormous courage for them. Teen girls at nudist resorts are usually the shyest people there, and some of those girls have been going since they were little. Then their body develops and they get concerned about body image stuff. The Program would be okay except for the way the school wants to equate sex with nudity and adds a healthy dose of humiliation to the nudity too; doing that is just terrible.”
The guys finished dressing and left for their home rooms.
Cynthia told Roger after he got settled in home room about the very few kids undressing in front of the school that morning.
“Out of thirty kids who were supposed to be there, only three showed up. Mike and Mary and another boy.”
“Tom and Jessica are on the swim team.”
“Oh, right, so there are five, I guess. I wonder what’s gonna happen next, if so few kids do the Program—what can the officials do about it?”
“Well, it’s like a chess match, I guess,” Roger said slowly. “They make a move, we counter, it goes like that. So far it’s a draw; neither side has an advantage. Hope it stays that way.”
In Anatomy, the class was now beginning the muscular system, and the three teens were fascinated by the physiological processes that produce muscle movement. They listened and watched raptly to the movie that showed how cellular processes produced the energy that allowed the bundled actin and myosin molecules to stretch and contract in unison, producing movement. It reminded Roger and Cynthia of a well-trained team working together to win a game. Soon the class was over and Ayame left the twins to go to her civics class. Michelle greeted her.
“Wait till you hear what happened in first period. Tell you after class,” she said as they sat down and the class started.
A few minutes into the class, the PA system came on. “Teachers, please send your first period attendance reports to the office now. Just the first period report. Thank you.”
The teacher pulled some pages out of his briefcase, flipped through them, selected one, and put it into an envelope. He looked at the class.
“Michelle, you’re next to the door so you’re elected. Could you please deliver this to the office? Thanks.”
Michelle took the envelope and left the room. As she walked down the hall, a man in a dark suit passed her and went into her classroom.
“Strange,” she thought. Then as she got closer to the office, she saw another suited man pulling a student toward the main entrance. The student was objecting but was reluctantly allowing herself to be led to the door. Michelle was getting a bad feeling about what she was seeing, so she rushed into the office, dropped off the envelope, and started to hurry back to her class.
On her way back from the office, as she approached a side corridor, Michelle heard voices coming from the corridor, a girl’s panicked cries. She ran to the corner of the corridor’s intersection and saw the guy she had seen earlier pulling a struggling Ayame toward a building entrance at the corridor’s end. She pulled out her phone to call Roger and suddenly realized that she wasn’t very far from the twins’ economics classroom so she dashed to it and flung the door open.
“Come quick!” she gasped. “They’re dragging Ayame out the C wing door!” she turned and ran back toward C wing to see if she could help Ayame.
Roger instantly leaped out of his seat; he was seated close to the door so he was there in a flash.
“Cyn, they’ve got Ayame! I’m going!” he shouted as he ran out of the class. “Come quick!”
The teacher called, “Stop!” and ran to the door after him.
“Wait, Rog,” Cynthia called.
“Can’t wait, I need to catch them. Hurry!” he called from the hall as he ran toward C wing, passing a hurrying Michelle a few dozen feet before the building doors.
Cynthia tried to follow him but the teacher was blocking her from getting to the door. She managed to hold his arms and twist around him; then she dashed out of the room and ran smack into Tom, who was returning from delivering his teacher’s attendance report. A quite naked Tom.
“Ugh! What happened?” he gasped as the two of them climbed to their feet.
“Trying to catch up with my bro! Ayame’s being kidnaped! You have a car? I may need you!”
“Like this?” he exclaimed as he rushed along with her.
“Yeah, like any way you can!”
They ran to the C wing door; it opened facing the student parking area so Cynthia was able to see at once that Roger’s car was already pulling out of the parking area.
Michelle was standing outside, helplessly watching the departing car. “Hurry, Cindy,” she implored, “please catch them!”
“Tom—can you follow—oh, no! No keys!” Cynthia exclaimed, crestfallen.
“Not a problem,” Tom shouted, “Let’s go!” and he raced off toward his car. She followed. When he got there, he quickly pulled a little box out from under his bumper. “Backup set. Be prepared!”
They jumped into the car and took off, a little more than a minute behind Roger.
“How do we know where they’re going?” Tom asked as he floored the accelerator, trying to catch the car he could see moving away in the distance.
“Ayame has a tracking app on her phone. Hope it’s on. I’m calling Rog.”
Cynthia called Roger’s phone and he answered after several rings. Roger had his car’s bluetooth on and Cynthia’s call came in.
“Rog, I’m with Tom and we’re behind you about a minute or so.”
“Cyn, I’m on with Ayame. Listen quick. Call 911 and dad. Kidnaping. Her tracking app is on and they’re maybe a half mile ahead on 76 headed for 15, I think. It’s black, maybe a four door. Ayame’s locked in the back. She can hear me. Ayame, call Cindy and talk. I can’t talk now, I need to catch you.”
Cindy texted her father, “Ayame kidnaped on 76 toward 15 Roger chasing.”
Then she called 911. “A student was just kidnaped from Ocean Valley High; we’re following the student and have limited phone contact. We’re on Rte 76 headed toward I 15. I can’t stay on; I need to talk her and will give updates if I can.”
She got off and switched over to Ayame’s call which had just come in. Ayame began talking in Japanese.
“On my tiny phone. They don’t know I have it. Please come get me, I’m so scared,” her whispered voice came through.
“I’m getting your location now, Ayame.... Okay, we’re getting closer; I see Roger’s car... Okay, now I can see a black car ahead of Roger.... He’s right behind it now.”
Cynthia watched as Roger pulled around the black car and then cut in front of it, forcing it off the road onto the shoulder near the beginning of a guardrail cable, about 50 feet from a dry creek bed.
“Tom! Pull in back of them and block that car so they can’t back out!” she cried as she saw the black car jerk into reverse and its wheels spin, throwing up a cloud of dust.
Tom pulled in back of the car, his horn blaring, and stopped, his car angled so that the black car was trapped off the road’s shoulder. He sat back, exhaling in relief. “Whuff, that was close!”
Cynthia exclaimed, “You need to stay in the car. Don’t be a hero; Roger and I can take care of this. Get on my phone to 911 and tell them what’s happening.”
“Yeah, like I’m gonna get involved like I’m dressed, right.” Tom muttered.
Tom took Cynthia’s phone from her and dialed 911 as he watched Roger jump out of his car. Cynthia was already out of his, advancing on the black car from behind it as two men emerged and the driver came around the front of the car toward Roger.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, kid?” he yelled at Roger.
“You kidnaped a girl. Let her out.” Roger called to him.
“We’re federal agents. Get out of our way or we’ll arrest you.”
Cynthia came up from their other side. “Open the car door and let the girl out now,” she demanded.
Suddenly the driver pulled a handgun. “The hell we will.”
Roger said, “Kidnaping and pulling a gun on some kids? Federal agents? Sure you are.”
Meanwhile Cynthia had walked up closer to the unarmed man who was standing between her and the man with the pistol.
“Jeff, don’t block her,” the armed man called. “You’re in the line of fire.”
“That’s okay, it’s just a girl. I’ll grab her. We’ll use her as a hostage and make them let us leave,” he said as he reached to grab Cynthia, intending to twist her around and pin her arms.
Cynthia broke his grip with her forearms, grasped his jacket by the shoulders, turned her torso and bent slightly for leverage, hauled his body up over her back and shoulder, and heaved him away. The momentum of her shoulder throw hurled the man toward the armed man. A shot rang out and the armed man went down hard as the body of his comrade slammed him in the chest.
Just as the man had attempted to grab Cindy, a MP vehicle had pulled up from one direction and a state police vehicle from the other. As the shot sounded, the two vehicles skidded to a halt and three police officials jumped out of their cars, guns drawn, two MPs from one vehicle and a state trooper from the other.
“We heard a shot,” one MP called. “Down on the ground, you two!”
Roger and Cynthia dropped to the ground. Cynthia called out, “One of those guys had a gun and it went off. They kidnaped the girl in the car.”
An MP called, “Is that the Denison kids?”
Roger called back, “Yes!”
“Okay, please stay down where you are and don’t move yet; I don’t see those guys moving at all. Hey, trooper! Are they moving?”
“No, I’m working in closer. No movement,” he called as he crept in, keeping close to the ground
Cindy called, “They’re both not moving at all. Oh! I see blood! Oh, he must have been shot! The one on top has blood all over his front.”
The trooper slipped up to the downed men cautiously and looked.
“Okay, Marines, it’s clear. One took a round through his chest. From the amount of blood here, it hit a major vessel. The other’s out cold.” He turned to Cynthia. “I saw you throw that guy. What happened?”
“He grabbed me and said he was gonna use me as a hostage to get away. I used a judo throw.”
Meanwhile a MP was examining the fallen men. Then he stood up.
“The other one isn’t breathing either. His head hit the clamp of the guardrail cable here when he went down. His skull may be fractured. Let’s see how the girl in their car is.”
The other MP had been trying to get the back car door open. “This isn’t like a police vehicle. The lock control must be in the front.”
Just then two more MP vehicles pulled up, sirens blaring, and Sgt Denison leaped out of one.
“Kids, you okay?” he called.
“Yeah, Dad,” Cynthia responded. She ran to him in tears. “Oh, Daddy, I killed two people,” she sobbed.
“What? What happened?” he exclaimed.
She explained, and as she was talking, one of the original MPs came up.
“Sarge, I saw the end of what happened. She had no fault in that at all...”
Just then the cops working on the door got it opened and Ayame sprang out, crying, and rushed into Roger’s arms.
“Oh, thank you thank you,” she sobbed. “They were taking me they said for ‘retraining’! Be taught so would want to go to school naked, and were laughing about it!”
“Who the hell are these guys, anyway?” Roger exclaimed. “They said they were federal agents but then one pulled a gun on us. It’s okay now, Ayame, you’re safe now.”
She continued to hold onto Roger tightly as he soothed her.
The MP who had been speaking to Sgt Denison then walked over to the group of police officials and motioned Cynthia and Sgt Denison to follow. Meanwhile, quite a traffic jam had developed and additional police had arrived; they began to direct traffic and keep the gawkers at bay. And then an ambulance pulled up.
The MP continued recounting to Sgt Denison what he had seen. “As we got near, I saw the gunshot victim grab Miss Denison—he tried, anyway—and she threw him off her. Nice judo move, miss. But the way they were facing sent him tumbling toward his buddy there, who either shot him because he got startled or the gun went off when he went down. Need ballistics to say which. But neither death is the fault of Miss Denison. She was assaulted and simply threw him off of her.”
The trooper agreed. “I saw basically the same from the opposite side. It looked like the guy was gonna try to hold her in a bear hug. That’s not how to restrain someone to put into custody; he didn’t have police training, I’m certain.”
He looked at the men lying on the ground and called to a medic who was examining them.
“Condition?”
“Dead. Both. Gunshot was instant. Head blow to the other caused a cerebral bleed, he died within a minute.”
“Okay, wait for the photos before you take them away. Hey Mike,” he called to another trooper who had gone through their pockets and now was looking through their vehicle. “Any kind of ID?”
“No law enforcement ID. Driver’s licenses. Gun permit but not concealed carry. Some kind of federal ID card that says ‘Special Contractor’ and ‘Office of Social Awareness,’ whatever that is. Papers in the front of the vehicle list the school name, Ocean Valley High, 9:00–9:45 a.m. time, a list of four names that say ‘students’ and the room numbers in the school next to the student names. One name and room number circled, Ayame Asano. The car’s got a federal plate but it’s motor pool—GSA registration, no agency named.”
“Four students? So there were others?” the trooper asked rhetorically.
One of the MPs said, “Yeah, we heard from the school detail that they stopped two other pair of men trying to remove students from the school. Those men are in custody now. I guess these two must have evaded the MPs there—or maybe the MPs were tied up with the other arrests.”
While those discussions were going on, the three Denisons, Ayame, and Tom were talking among themselves. Tom had evidently found a rain poncho in his car to put on. Cynthia was still clinging to her father’s arm.
“Cindy, honey, what you described happened shows that your defending yourself wasn’t the cause of death of those scum,” Denison was saying. “If that guy didn’t pull the firearm, those two would still be alive. First, he had no authority to use a pistol to threaten you. Second, the recoil from the pistol discharge threw him even more out of balance when he was knocked over, so he went down harder. And because he was holding the pistol he couldn’t use that arm to break his fall and that’s the side he fell toward. So he shot his accomplice and his skull fracture was the direct result of his own actions, not yours. Can you...”
Just then Sgt Denison’s cell phone rang; it was Sarah Denison.
“Stuart? Is Ayame okay?”
“Yes,” he answered. “We have her right here.”
“Oh, thank God; a few minutes after your call telling me you were going after her, I got a call from the school. The secretary said she had a letter from the Program office to read to me...”
Denison interrupted. “Wait, Sarah, let me put you on speaker so the others can hear. Okay, go.”
“Yes. Okay, she read the letter to me. It said basically that the Program office had Ayame in custody for failing to participate in the Program and that she would be receiving instruction in proper Program participation for five days. That the instruction was under governmental supervision but that we would not be able to contact Ayame until it was completed. That we shouldn’t try to locate her or contact law enforcement because they wouldn’t know where she was either. I asked to speak to the principal but he said he didn’t know anything about this but he said the school had other letters that said the same thing for two other girls. So I called you. She is okay, then, not hurt.”
“Yes. Very shaken, but doing okay now, I think. Listen, there’s a million law enforcement people here and I gotta go—I’ll let you know more real quick, okay? Love ya, talk soon.”
An MP had come up and listened to Sarah’s story. “Hell, this just gets more and more complicated. Sarge, you have no idea what’s going on back at the MP barracks. They’ve got four more of these yahoos there and they’re being tight-lipped. Won’t say a word about what they were doing.”
Denison growled, “Maybe if you tell them that kidnaping is minimum 25 years, that’ll loosen them up a bit.”
Roger was reassuring Ayame, who had begun relating what had happened to her when two more men joined their group.
“Hello,” a Marine in fatigues wearing a captain’s insignia had joined them. “I’m Captain Everson, in charge of the investigations unit.”
“And I’m Detective Wilbur, state police,” said a man in a rumpled sport jacket who had walked up. “I’m leading the homicide investigation. Miss, could you please begin again what you were saying when you were taken out of school?”
Roger pressed Ayame’s hand in encouragement.
She began, “Yes, okay, I collect myself,” she said and took a deep breath. “Oh, is frightening. When was in classroom, man came in with papers, give teacher. Envelope too. Say envelope for office,” her words came tumbling out rapidly.
Roger interrupted. “Shhh, Ayame. One second, gentlemen, she’s really rattled. Ayame, slow down, think in English. It’ll come out better, okay?”
“Ah, yes, Roger. Errr. He gave a paper to the teacher and an envelope and told the teacher the envelope was to go to the office; he was there to take a student out of the classroom. The teacher looked at the paper and called me, said the paper was an order to go with the man. I said I wouldn’t go, that Roger said I shouldn’t go anywhere without him and the man said, ‘Okay, let’s go get Roger, then’ and came over, took my hand, told me to take my backpack, and come with him to get Roger.
“When we got into the hall, I pointed in the direction of Roger’s classroom but he pulled me the other way. I started struggling but he kept dragging me to the side entrance near the student parking lot. This black car was there and the other man got out. I twisted loose then and tried to run but he caught me. I was hitting him with my pack; then the other one took the pack away.
“The other guy, the driver, looked in the pack and told the first one that my cell phone was in there; then he put the pack in the trunk while the other one tried to push me into the back seat. I was fighting him so one had to get in the seat and pull me in while the other pushed me. Then they closed the doors but I couldn’t get out, they were locked. They drove away and that’s when I saw Roger run out of the school to his car.”
“Yeah, Ayame, your fighting them delayed them enough so that I saw the car you were in,” Roger said. “What happened then?”
“I remembered my tiny phone then so I turned it on and I had my bluetooth earbud on the necklace too. I could voice-dial—it is in Japanese and I talked to Roger in Japanese too. The men asked what I was saying and I said I was praying and they laughed, then the man said I should pray that they would teach me how to be more cooperative and enjoy all the sex I could get in doing the Program, and they would make sure that I learned really good. Ugh! They were terrible! That’s when Roger and Tom caught up to us... Oh, thank you, Tom! You were wonderful bringing Cindy like that!”
Tom nodded to her and Cynthia took Tom’s hand and squeezed it.
Wilbur shook his head. “Bunch of perverts. We still don’t know where they were headed. Did they say, Miss Ayame?”
“No sir. Also, car windows were dark and hard to see out. Oh, wait, one of them said to put an address in the navigation, I think I heard.”
Wilbur called, “Richardson!” A cop poked his head out of the black car. “Check to see if there’s an address in the nav system.”
“Got it, I’ll check,” he called back. Soon he popped out again. “Yeah, there’s a destination address showing.”
Wilbur said to Ayame, “Good recollection, Miss. Thanks. Captain, do you have everything you need at your end?”
Everson replied, “Yes, sir. You’re doing the homicide piece. We’ll need to coordinate the kidnaping investigation much closer since we’re holding the others from that group. I suspect these two were headed out of the county.”
“Looks that way. Okay, folks, we have all your contact info. Miss Ayame, do you think you need to see a doctor or go to the hospital? They didn’t injure you when you fought with them, did they?” Wilbur asked.
“No, sir. Maybe a few bruises on my arms, but nothing hurts. I feel a lot safer with Cindy and Roger here.”
Sgt Denison asked, “Kids, what do you want to do? Go home? What?”
Roger replied, “Up to Ayame, sir. Sweetie, you want to go home and rest? Have the bruises looked at?”
“No, Roger, if I do that I’ll be thinking of what happened and all the ‘what ifs.’ I think I’ll be better going back to school and that will keep my mind busy. Is that okay to do?”
“If you think you can do that, sure, sweetie. And we need to make sure that Tom, our unsung hero here, isn’t punished for helping us,” Roger said as he put an arm around Tom’s shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. We owe you big time.”
“Hell, Rog, you don’t owe anything. Cindy needed help and I was there, that’s all.”
Cynthia smiled. “Yeah, but it was really weird being driven on that chase by a wild-eyed naked boy. Say, why were you in the hall, anyway—not that I’m complaining.”
“You know how the teachers use Program kids to do stuff in the classrooms? I had to deliver the teacher’s attendance report—you heard that PA announcement?”
“Oh, right,” she replied.
One of the original MPs came over to them. “I called the school detail and told them about your being here, Tom. They’re clearing it with the office so all of you should just need to get a pass when you get back. Take care, guys, good luck, and stay out of trouble, okay?” He walked off.
Cynthia and Roger told their dad goodbye and Cynthia said that she’d ride back to school with Tom while Ayame would go with Roger. Soon they got their cars out of the jam of official vehicles and headed back.
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