You Have the Right to Remain Confused

Posted on Tue Feb 19th, 2019 @ 4:17am by Staff Sergeant Jeremiah Corvus
Edited on on Tue Feb 19th, 2019 @ 5:53pm

Mission: A Brand New Day
Location: Denver International Airport, Cheyenne Mountain Complex

Staff Sergeant Jeremiah Corvus stretched and yawned while glancing over at the concourse. Luggage was beginning to pop out of the back and onto the rounded belt. Fortunately, he was sure his green rucksack and backpack would stick out enough that he didn’t have to worry about anyone else grabbing his luggage, what little of it there was.

Considering he was hurried onto a transport and had only minutes to pack, anyone trying to take his luggage, full of dirty laundry, deserved what they got when they opened it.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m in Denver now, landed a few minutes ago and waiting for baggage claim. Then I need to go see where transport is.” He spoke into the phone as he rubbed his head, wondering where he was going to go to get a trim, it’d been about a week since he’d had a haircut and it was getting a bit long on top. “No, Dad, I’m not just saying Denver to throw you off. I’m not planning a Youtube video surprise visit home. No, Dad, I’m telling you I’m in Denver, I didn’t get a chance to even think about leave before reporting on my new orders.”
He paced while he spoke, holding the phone close to his ear. It would have been easier to use his bluetooth headphones, but the charge on them died somewhere over the Atlantic. He yawned again. He’d slept for a few hours after the headphones died and he couldn’t watch videos on his phone anymore, but that didn’t mean he was rested.

Coming back from a patrol and then being hurried onto a transport he was told would leave in five minutes didn’t give him a lot of rest. It was only after the transport lifted off, headed for Rammstein that he realized he was the only one from his unit onboard. That’s when he was handed new orders which...frankly...were a little sparse in details. All he got was that he was to report to an airbase in Colorado - it said Cheyenne Mountain Air Base, but that made little sense as it was the home of NORAD and Northern Command.

He was flown to Ramstein, from there driving to an airport and handed tickets that put him from Germany to New York, then to Denver, Colorado and was told transport would be waiting to pick him up once he landed in Denver.

“No, Dad, don’t tell Mom that I’m coming in for a surprise! Don’t...Dad...seriously, I’m not coming home.” He tried to lower his voice, noticing looks he was getting at that last statement. He smiled at one elderly female that looked as if she had a few thoughts on her mind about his loud declaration of not returning home. “No, I’m stationed in Colorado. Which isn’t so bad, depending on how long I’m here, the snowboarding will be great with all this snow and they got some bitchin mountain bike parks in the summer.”
He stopped, his posture stiffening before he put a hand over his face. “No, sir. It was a slip of the tongue, sir. No, sir, that is not how I want to represent the Air Force or my family,” he bowed his head and crossed his free arm over his chest. “No, sir, I apologize, sir.”
Glancing at the concourse again, his eyes widened for a moment. “No, Dad, no, I don’t need to ...no don’t put Mom on the…” his shoulders slumped “...no, ma’am. No, ma’am. It was just a...yes, ma’am, I was certainly raised better than that. No, ma’am, that is not how I learned to speak to my elders. No, ma’am...no...Mom! MOM! Don’t, no, I don’t need…” shoot me now he mouthed to the ceiling and at no one in particular.

“Hey, Donut!” he said, knowing this was just part of his parents “teaching him a lesson”. “Yes, I said a naughty word. No, I don’t need to be sent to my room without supper. Yes, I’m sorry I said it. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. No, I won’t forget to mind my manners again. Yes, I want to be a good influence on you.”

Finally he saw his bags coming around the concourse and went to retrieve them while still being ‘berated’ by his younger sister. “No, Donut, I wish I was coming home, but it may be awhile still. I miss you too. Yes, miss you lots. No, I won’t kiss you with my dirty mouth, I’ll make sure to chew lots of soap between now and then so I’ve cleaned it out, is that okay? I don’t know, five bars of soap? TEN? No, I can’t do ten, how about six? Okay, eight. I’ll chew up eight bars of soap.” He smiled as he heard her giggle on the other end, then the phone was passed back to his father.

“Yes, Dad, I am very, very, very sorry I made that mistake. Everyone here in the airport knows I’m sorry I made this mistake.” He noticed the smiles on faces of people who were “absolutely not paying attention” to his phone call. But, as he slung his rucksack strap over one shoulder, he noticed two individuals coming in his direction, both in uniforms like his own. One, he noted, was a staff sergeant, the other a tech sergeant. Both were security by the arm bands they were wearing. He didn’t know why, but the look of them, and their focus on him, made him uneasy.
“Hey, listen, Dad, looks like my ride's here and I gotta go. Love you too, Dad. And Mom and Donut. Yes, sometimes even Phil and Mike. I’ll call again when I can. Bye”

“Staff Sergeant Jeremiah Corvus?” the staff sergeant asked as the tech sergeant came up to his side. Jeremy was about to point out that he clearly had his name on the namestrip on his right chest, and rank patches were regulation affixed on both shoulders but, before he could start to say anything, the tech sergeant took the phone from his hand.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, turning. The tech sergeant, Bellows, by his nametape, then reached and grabbed his rucksack. The staff sergeant, Arcadia, grabbed his pack and handed it to Bellows.

“What’s going on here?” Jeremy asked, looking between the two. His nerves were growing with each moment. Had he done something wrong? Did the Air Force fly him back Stateside just to court martial him? “Am I in trouble?”

“Not at the moment, Staff Sergeant,” Bellows said.

“Raise your arms, Staff Sergeant,” Arcadia said and, without waiting, began a pat frisk. Jeremy looked around, frowning, this was...why were they frisking him? “Hey!” he exclaimed as they began emptying his pockets, placing his wallet, keys, a momento chain Donut sent him when he first deployed back to Afghanistan this third time, it all went into one of the compartments of his pack.

“Do you need to use the restroom before we leave?” Acadia asked, “Don’t be shy, we can make the stop now but I don’t want to have to stop along the way.”

“No,” Jeremy said, trying to concentrate on just the two airmen and not on the gathering crowd. He heard murmuring and a lot of “I don’t knows” and “probably drugs”. “I went as soon as I got off the plane. What’ve I done?” he asked again, his worry growing as the crowd around them swelled..
“You’ll get your items back when we’ve determined there’s no contraband,” Tech Sergeant Bellows said as he zipped the pack. “Come with us, Staff Sergeant.”

He wasn’t being cuffed, at least, in front of all these people but what the hell was going on? If they wanted him arrested for something he did, why send him all the way to Colorado - COLORADO of all places - to do it? This didn’t make any sense. “Can I at least get my jerky out of that bag?” he asked of the staff sergeant carrying his belongings.

“No,” was the simple answer.

“What did I do?” he asked again, his question crashing against their cold, stone faced silence.

“Staff Sergeant,” Bellows said, walking slightly behind and to the left of him, part of an escort position. While they didn’t cuff him yet, he still felt he was being arrested for something. And with them taking everything from him, he wasn’t sure how he could let his family know he was in trouble. Or anyone else for that matter.

Head bowed, trying hard not to feel the stares of those in baggage claim who witnessed this scene, he just followed Staff Sergeant Acadia out the doors.
A large, black SUV sat at the curb. The lights flashed at a press of a button on the keyfob Acadia held.

Once outside he though to make a break, run from it. He was in good shape - had to be to maintain his readiness as a pararescue - but there were two problems. One, running never solved anything. He was sure he was innocent of whatever they might accuse him and if he ran, he basically proved himself guilty, even when he wasn’t. Then there was problem two.

If he ran, these two security airmen would face the brunt of his escape. It may not seem like much, but it was a kindness to him that they didn’t cuff him up in front of everyone in the airport. Not to mention with all the cameras, if he was cuffed it’d be splashed all over the news. He didn’t want his family to find out about his arrest because of a random news item. He also didn’t want to repay that little kindness by causing them problems.
Instead he walked to the back of the car and waited outside the door, hands behind his back. Bellows opened the door and stepped back, indicating Jeremy should put himself in the backseat.

“You’re,” he said, looking around, the area wasn’t as full of people as inside, but there were still a few and, even having to ask the question caused a lump in his throat. This was going to kill his father when he found out - his youngest son arrested and thrown in jail. Like some criminal. “You’re not going to cuff me?” he asked, shame filling his voice even as he asked. It was a huge lapse in protocol to transport an unsecured prisoner. While there may be circumstances around not doing so, Jeremy didn’t fit any of tem.

“Why, do you want to be treated like a common criminal?” Bellows asked, putting on his dark aviator glasses.

“No,” Jeremy said, confused, “but, won’t you get in trouble?”

It was the first time he saw a smile from either one of them. Bellows shook his head and opened the front passenger door. Jeremy got in the same time he heard the back door slam. A cage separated him from his gear and from the front but...what the hell was going on?
They said he wasn’t arrested and haven’t cuffed him, but also didn’t explain why they frisked him and took all his belongings from him - leaving him nothing but the uniform he was wearing and the confusion he felt.

Their conversation was muted, he also heard them check out with someone in a dispatch center elsewhere, stating they had him and were bringing him to base.

For the first time, Jeremy began to worry that this wasn’t an arrest but a kidnapping.

The windows were dark and blocked out a good portion of the view. He could see out the front windshield, barely, so knew they were driving through Denver, but they also appeared to be heading south. Where the AF base was located near Colorado Springs. Or were they going somewhere else.
He didn’t have any information of operational value. He wasn’t critical personnel, what value would he have as a hostage? Okay, he was pararescue, the best the military had to offer, but this was a rather elaborate set up just to kidnap one Air Force operator. And why do it back Stateside? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to do so incountry? No, that wasn’t making sense either. There was no threat of force, no show of force, nothing that led him to believe this was a kidnapping either.

Then what the…

He stopped that thought, the last thing he needed was the Mom and Dad voices in his head to get started. He had enough to worry about now as it was.
Like what the…heck was going on?

The city was thinning around them when Arcadia pulled into a parking lot and up to a gas pump. He got out, conveniently the gas tank was on the passenger side, which meant he was also able to guard any attempt Jeremy made to get out. He watched Bellows enter the store through the windshield.

Now, while Arcadia was still fiddling with the gas pump, Jeremy undid the seatbelt and slid across to the other side. The door was locked. Not just locked, child locked. It wouldn’t open from the inside. He sighed and returned to where he was sitting, crossing his arm and clenching his jaw.

What was this about?

He looked over the seat, to see if he could find a way into the back. Maybe he could grab his gear, open the back door and make a break for it, call the authorities once he was free and get someone from command to explain what kind of trouble he was in - which is where it kept leading. He may not be in cuffs, but he was in custody nonetheless.

He managed to get his seatbelt buckled again before Bellows opened the door. Arcadia was finished at the pump and walking back to the driver side door.

“Here,” Bellows said, handing in a plastic store bag. “This should tide you over until we get to the base.”

“What base?” Jeremy asked, setting the sack aside for the moment. “C’mon, guys, give a clue here, please.”

“They’ll explain everything at the base,” Bellows said, closing the door and then entering into the front again. Jeremy watched as Arcadia maneuvered the vehicle out of the parking lot and back into traffic. Within a few minutes they were merging onto I-25 South and the sack rolled against his leg. Jeremy picked it up and looked inside.

“Oh, holy grail!” he muttered as he pulled out the large bottle of Pepsi. The large, cold bottle of Pepsi. It would be worth being kidnapped, almost, to have a cold bottle of any soda but in this case it was Pepsi. He looked back into the bag. There was also a chicken salad sandwich, a bag of regular nacho flavored Doritos, a bag of Sweet Baby Ray flavored beef jerky and a bottle of water.

“Whoever you are, you sure did your research,” he said, tearing open the bag of jerky to have a piece before tearing into the sandwich and chips. But that first, blissful drink of the cold, sweet ambrosia was heavenly.

[Two Hours later]

Jeremy tried to glance out the window. His were too dark and as they drove south, a storm blew in to meet them. The combination of weak, gray light and dark tinting made it nearly impossible for him to see anything except from the small slice of windshield. He licked the last bits of the jerky package off his fingertips as the SUV, piloted by Staff Sergeant Arcadia, stopped at the first gate. More Security Force airmen manned the gate and Jeremy frowned.

During the drive down, he was sure he’d succumb to his fatigue but the strangeness of the situation kept bouncing him awake again and again. Now, they appeared to be coming to their destination and still all Arcadia and Bellows would say was that all of this would be explained at the end.
He stuck the empty jerky package back into the plastic sack with the other refuse and wished he hadn’t been so greedy with the Pepsi in the beginning. All he had left was the water and well, after the Pepsi, it wasn’t quite the same.

Arcadia rolled up his window and continued past the checkpoint.

Only minutes later, they came to a second checkpoint. Arcadia rolled down the back window where the security airman flashed a light into the back, stared at Jeremy for a moment, then stood up and waved them through.
Jeremy shoved the water bottle into a cargo pocket as Bellows opened the door to the car. “This way, Staff Sergeant,” he said.
Jeremy stopped to stare as he donned his cover. A large tunnel was bored into the side of the mountain and above it were the words “Cheyenne Mountain Complex”.

“What’s going on?” he asked, more to himself because he still didn’t think he’d get any answers.

“You’re closer to those answers, Staff Sergeant,” Arcadia said, coming around from the back with his gear. He started off in a different direction than Bellows was leading.

“Hey! That’s mine!” Jeremy said, starting to chase after Arcadia. Bellows grabbed him by the arm, his grip iron hard and firm. It reminded him, oddly, of his father, though Bellows couldn’t be but a year or two older than him.

“This way Staff Sergeant, your gear will be fine.”

Despite the strangeness, Jeremy still looked around as they walked into the large cavern, keeping to the side to allow vehicles to drive through. The tunnel wide enough to allow them to drive side by side. They went further and further, the rough hewn rock giving way to smoother walls and then finally to built in construction. Jeremy couldn’t begin to guess how deep into the mountain they were - or where they were as Bellows led them, seemingly on purpose, through numerous twists and turns.

Finally, Bellows stopped at a door, placed his palm on the scanner and Jeremy heard the click of a door lock. Bellows opened the door. “Wait inside, Staff Sergeant,” Bellows said.

Hesitantly Jeremy went to the door. The room was barren except for four chairs, two on each side of a bare, metal table. One wall had what was obviously two way glass and a few lights from the ceiling. Otherwise there was nothing to recommend it.

“All the answers you’ve been wanting are in here, Airman,” Bellows said, widening the door further.

“What if…” Jeremy said, more frightened of this room than of anything else. He’d seen rooms like this before. When his father took him on a tour of the police station. It was old, his dad said, and obsolete. Now they used cameras instead of mirrored glass, but the effect was the same.

An interrogation room. “What if I don’t want the answers anymore? What if i want to just walk out and leave?”

Bellows cocked his head and looked at him. “I’d have to call command, but I’m sure it would be approved.”

“Just like that?” Jeremy said, turning to look at Bellows.

“Just like that,” Bellows answered.

Jeremy looked down the hall. Others were there and, with a practiced eye, he made them out to be more security. He sure didn’t believe Bellows but…
He went into the room and took a seat opposite the door, so he could see when it opened again. He took a look at his watch, before realizing it was taken with everything else. Placing his elbows on the table, he covered his face with his hands.
Why did he feel like he was in for more trouble than he ever thought possible?