A state of disobedience

Convention Center, Virginia Beach, Virginia

"Please don't ask me to do anything like this again, Juani," pleaded Jack as he walked by her side down the long aisle between cheering—and a few scowling—attendees at the convention.

It was the off season; hotel space was plentiful, the convention center unbooked. Transportation by air and ground was easy. Moreover, the U.S. Army's own "Transportation Center," at Fort Eustis, was nearby to assist and coordinate, as was Oceana Naval Air Station and Norfolk Navy Base. And, given how much the Armed Forces were looking forward to the expected changes from the convention, that support was cordial indeed.

And Virginia Beach was a great place for a convention, in any case. Though off season, the weather was unseasonably warm. The area reeked of history, of sights to be seen and restaurants to be sampled.

It was a place and time of the greatest excitement.

It was also bedlam, nothing less. Schmidt followed Juanita through the mass of cheering . . . cheering what? Nuts, was Schmidt's opinion. And, though he tried to hide it from everyone, Juanita knew that opinion, even shared it to a degree.

A quick glance confirmed Juani's suspicions. "Smile, Goddamit, Jack. You're the man of the hour. Act like a politician for once in your life, will you? It won't kill you, you know."

Schmidt nodded, forced a smile to his face and then leaned over to whisper in Juani's ear, "These people are insane, Governor."

Juani shifted her eyes, glancing quickly at a bearded man in a confederate uniform with a pole bearing the Battle Flag of the Army of Northern Virginia grasped tightly in his hands. The man wore gray clothes with a double set of brass buttons topped by a broad brimmed gray felt hat.

She smiled, warmly, and tore her widened eyes away. "I know, Jack, but what can you do?"

"Run to the insane asylum?" he asked, rhetorically. "It should be safe enough since all the real nuts are here."

"Jaaack . . ."

"Okay, Governor, okay. I'll be good."

Juanita, followed by Jack, began to climb the steps to the stage on which stood the podium. She really didn't feel quite at home. Worse, she felt a horrible itching between her shoulder blades, as if someone had set cross hairs on her back.

At the top of the stairs, once again standing by the governor's side, Jack whispered, "I've heard Willi herself is going to show up."

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