He chuckled and nodded. “They are. But they aren’t anything we can’t handle. Especially not after being deployed and facing some of the worst terrorists the world has to offer.”
She smiled. “That’s right. My big bad boyfriend.”
“And don’t you forget it,” he teased.
She leaned forward, kissed him once more, then turned and climbed out of his Cherokee. Grover waited until she disappeared inside the gym before driving out of the parking lot and heading for the post.
When he neared the gate, he realized why their commander had assigned extra security. There were at least two dozen men from the Strong Foot Militia outside the gate, and for such a relatively small group, they were being extra loud and antagonistic today. They approached every vehicle on the road leading to the gate, yelling at the occupants as they waited to enter.
They clearly knew that while they were allowed to say whatever they wanted, even if people didn’t agree with them, they weren’t able to truly threaten anyone or incite violence. Still, that didn’t mean their shouting wasn’t offensive or fear-inducing.
“Stop being sheep!”
“The military is killing innocents overseas!”
“Think for yourself!”
“Big brother is watching!”
“Watch your back!”
Grover clenched his teeth together. Hard. The line to get onto base was moving slowly this time of morning, and he had no choice but to sit there and listen to the jackasses harass everyone as he waited to show his ID.
A man came up to his Jeep, stood right outside his window and began to heckle him.
“Hey, look! Here’s a baby killer!”
Before Grover could blink, two more men had joined him. One was quite a bit older than the others. The man he and his group suspected might be the leader of the group. The one who normally hung back and egged on the others, rather than engage military staff and contractors. He looked to be in his forties or fifties, his average height and frame covered from head to toe in well-worn, dirty camouflage. His beard was scraggly and he looked unkempt—but it was the cunning in the man’s eyes that told Grover he was someone to be wary of, unlike the young men around him.
“Hey, soldier man, if your bosses told you to bend over and kiss their asses, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?” one of the boys asked.
“Of course he would,” another young man answered. “He has to, otherwise he’ll get in trouble.”
“That’s right, they’re like sheep, doing whatever they’re told without thinking.”
“He can’t think, he’s dumb as a box of rocks!”
Grover wasn’t offended in the least by their petty taunts. He also wasn’t surprised to learn they had no clue what they were talking about.
“He’s doing what he’s been programmed to do,” the older man said. “Obey. He kills law-abiding men who are just trying to live their lives, and when our government calls them terrorists, he blindly agrees without trying to see what’s right in front of his face.”
His window was down only about three inches, but it was enough for him to hear the militia members clearly, and for them to hear him. He wanted to reply. Tell them they were idiots, but he knew better than to engage. It would only encourage them.
“Hey, Cory, look at all the pretty decorations on his uniform. He’s probably killed tons of innocents.”
“How does it feel knowing you’re helping a corrupt government oppress not only its own citizens, but other innocents as well?” Cory, the older man, asked.
Any mellowness he’d felt after a great morning with Sierra was quickly disappearing.
The wind blew through the open window, and Grover could smell the stench of pot coming from the men. He shook his head in disgust. “What’s your problem?” he asked, breaking his own rule about not engaging. He kept his voice calm though, not letting one iota of the anger he was feeling toward these men and what they stood for sound in his tone. “You’re upset because there are thousands of men and women who are proud of the country they live in, and are actively doing their part to keep everyone who lives here safe?”
“Safe?” Cory spat. “Right. The government threatens to send in the National Guard to take us out when all we want is to bring attention to the fact that our constitutional rights are being obliterated.”
“You can’t have it both ways,” Grover reasoned mildly. “You can’t talk about constitutional rights in one breath and disparage the government in the next. They go hand in hand.”
The man flushed a deep, angry red. “No, they don’t!” Cory insisted. “We’re being oppressed, and you’re too stupid to see it. Open your eyes, man! The military can kill whoever they want, whenever they want, with no repercussions. You’re a murderer. You go to other countries, where people believe differently than we do, and someone points a finger and says ‘kill him’—and you do it! No one throws you in jail. No, they give you medals and say ‘good job!’ It’s disgraceful. And one of these days, the people of this country are going to sit up and take notice. They’re going to put their foot down and say enough is enough!”
Grover realized the man might be unbalanced. The fact he was riled so easily was a clue. On the outside, he looked normal enough, but if he truly believed Grover—or anyone in the military—could kill at will, he was delusional.
“You’re wrong,” he replied simply.
“I’m not! Mark my words, when the government and military don’t get their way, they pull out their guns and do their best to destroy anyone who dares go against them!”
The cars in front of him began to move, and Grover had never been so relieved. He made a mental note to not let Sierra come onto post until these men had decided they’d had enough and left. The very last thing he wanted to do was expose her to this crap. Besides, she’d probably lose her shit and go off on the protesters. And if anyone made even the smallest move to hurt her, he’d have to react, and he’d probably get in trouble as a result.
Yeah, it was best to keep her away from them altogether.
“I feel sorry for you,” he said with a shrug.
Cory glared at him and flushed even darker, while the other two men sputtered indignantly, probably trying to come up with a good comeback.
“Big brother is watching!” one of the them called out as Grover pulled forward.
“Save your soul and get away from the oppressors!” the other shouted.
Grover shook his head. The group had no idea what they were even protesting. They sounded like spoiled brats, pissed at anyone telling them what they could and couldn’t do.
When he got to the gate, the young military policeman apologized for the wait and for the harassment from the protestors.
“It’s not your fault.”
“The good news is that we’ll have some additional manpower here at the gate, starting this afternoon,” the MP said.
Grover nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be one of the ones tasked to offer extra security.”
“Oh, great. I guess I’ll see you later then.”
Grover looked in his rearview mirror as he pulled past the gates and saw the men standing around, still heckling anyone who drove by. At first he’d just thought the group was merely a nuisance, but after experiencing their vitriol firsthand…and meeting Cory…he had a feeling they were more dangerous than he’d realized.