Cal knew what a caged animal felt like. The guards were either indifferent or hostile. At least they didn’t throw meat into his cell. The government refused to let the Coalition consul visit or allow access to attorneys. They were never “read their rights.” They had no rights.
On the fifth day his guard said, “You’re a lucky fucker. Your shyster is here. Thirty minutes. Get a move on.”
He was escorted into a small room and handcuffed to a metal table. The attorney waited quietly until the guard left. “I’m Harris Johnson. You have a smart daughter, who knows how to disperse money to maximum effect.”
“She’s my stepdaughter, and you’re right, she’s a handful. Someday you can fill in the details.”
“While you were a captive on the Braxton Bragg, she was a stowaway. We don’t have much time, and the guards are listening, Consequently, my remarks will seem obtuse.”
“Fire away.”
“It’s not like I’m padding my billable time, but I’ve had to massage the local bureaucrats until their avarice light flashes green. I motivated a judge to allow visits to you and your wife.”
“Money—”
Johnson interrupted. “Is a problem. I know.” He whispered, “The guards are listening. Don’t broadcast your net worth.”
Cal nodded. “I’m embarrassed. Money is tight since I retired. Fixed income, you know.”
“I’m sorry you’re squeezed. I’ll need to put a lien on your home.”
“We didn’t plan on being falsely imprisoned when we came to see our son. It will bankrupt us.”
The lawyer smiled. “Fortunately, I still do pro bono work.”
“Can you get Carol and me out of jail?”
“As sure as God hates the Seven Deadly Sins.”
“In the meantime, have you heard from my son?”
“No, but you have a fine team working on his behalf. Now, I have to drive to Miami to see your wife. Any messages for her.”
“She’s a strong lady. Tell her I’m okay, and I love her.”
