It hadn’t stopped all day. He’d answered the first few, and wished he hadn’t. Most were from haters who wanted him arrested after Jill’s confessions on TV last night. It hadn’t gone as planned. They’d had a good marriage, and then she’d gone on TV and lied and made him out to be some kind of violent crazy man. Had he hit her? Maybe a few times, but never that hard, and she knew he loved her, right? He was just trying to help her. He had a second of peace from the phone and then it started ringing again. He glanced at the caller ID, and this time he answered it. It was them. The Militia. He needed to know the damn plan after last night. He hoped it was that they were raiding The Program campus, guns blazing. ‘Cause he was in. First he was going to shoot the fucker who was banging his wife; then he was grabbing Jill and getting out. “Yeah,” he grunted into the phone. “Mr. Thompson?” “It’s me.” “Your services are no longer required of the Militia. We thank you for your time.
