Although Banyan's death could not officially be laid at the feet of Macintosh, the State did find cause to extend his seven-year sentence for a failed armed robbery by three years. It’d also earned him a place among The Way.
The ankle holster concealed along the inside of Macintosh's left leg just above the ankle seemed heavier now, as if the gun itself was somehow rooted to the poured concrete floor Macintosh stood on. Deputy US Marshal Dawes was duct taped to a metal folding chair in the center of the room. Underneath was an eight-by-eight drop cloth.
Grizz towered over all the men in the room. But with Dawes seated before him, he looked even more menacing.
He said nothing, standing with arms folded behind the chair. He stared at the man between them who was groaning. His head was bobbing more steadily as he tried to bring it up. Macintosh looked at the man's eyes as they flooded open, and then saw the shock and horror of them when they recognized the man standing behind the chair. He twisted against the restraints, and only worked to kink up the tape, further cutting off his circulation. Dawes’ hands were a shade of dark purple, matching the bruising along the side of his beaten face. His eyes shot wildly around the room and locked with Macintosh's. He was begging. No discernable words penetrated the gag in his mouth. Tears started to stream down the man's blood-crusted face.
"US Marshal Dawes, do you know what this day is for you?" Grizz growled. "It's a reckoning. You think you can come to my home and take from me? Your laws don't apply to me. We are sovereign. You cannot impose your will on me."
Dawes whimpered.
"I am the only law that matters. The other three I killed should have served as a warning. But just like Waco, you government types can't seem to help yourselves.”
"Lank, it’s your time to earn your mark." Grizz continued.
The scrawny Lankowski straightened. He pulled out a small black revolver from his waistband and pointed it at the federal agent's head. "Just give me the word, Grizz. I'll put a bullet through his thick skull."
"Wait." Macintosh nearly choked on the word.
Grizz turned his emerald stare to Macintosh. His voice boomed like someone beating an empty barrel with a wooden mallet. "Did you just speak out of turn?"
"Killing him is a bad move."
Lank turned the gun toward Macintosh. "I told you there's somethin' off 'bout this one. He ain't right."
"You best be pointing that gun elsewhere." Macintosh squared himself to Lank. He thought of the ankle holster. No way he could get to his piece before Lank got a shot off.
"Let's see what he has to say." Grizz stepped forward and rested his beefy hands on the shoulders of Dawes. "Tell me why this man here deserves to live."
"They already tried to breach once. If you kill him, nothing will stop them from rolling a tank through the front gate. Keep him alive and you have leverage."
The big man stirred. He adjusted his forearms and returned them to their folded position across his barrel chest.
"It's how we survived the prison riot. We took a guard hostage. It became our saving grace. Plus, we got a lot of intel about how the other guards planned to stop us. It gave us the tactical advantage and enabled us to hold the prison for over ten days. Might be worth a shot to do the same thing here. But this isn't my show."
”You’re damn right it isn't!" Grizz’s cheeks reddened to the color of his beard. Then he let out a huge sigh. "But right is right. You may be onto something."
Lank still held the gun out and pointed in the direction of Macintosh.
"Put that thing away before you shoot yourself." Macintosh sneered.
Lank holstered his pistol. "So we just gonna take the newbie's word as gospel?"
"He's a marked member. You remember that next time you point that thing in his direction. I'll cut your throat myself."
Lank resumed his slouch.
"Since you’re full of ideas, what is it you suggest we do next?" Grizz redirected his attention to Macintosh.
"We need to establish communication with the feds, so we can keep them from assaulting the compound. At least buy us enough time to slip away."
A loud rumble rolled through from a distance. It shook the small building and nearly threw Macintosh on top of Dawes. The lights went out.
"What in the hell was that? The feds? It felt like an explosion." Lank shot a panicked look at the door.
Grizz's voice roared above the noise. "That's no explosion. That's a quake."
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