Guardians of Honor:The Plebes

At midnight on Sunday morning, Casey was roused from a sound sleep by Kraus. After urging Casey to remain silent, Kraus handed her a set of old, black sweats, a black woolen cap, black woolen socks, and a pair of old, black, combat boots. She then motioned for Casey to get dressed as quickly as possible, and indicated that she would cover Casey’s absence. Moments later, Kraus led Casey down a darkened staircase and out a back door to where Johnson was waiting. After a quick nod from Johnson, Kraus disappeared back into the darkness.

“Keep your trap shut and follow me,” Johnson growled.

He then led Casey on a brisk trot to a deserted parking-lot. He made no mention of the Klan. But, Casey felt a distinctly different vibe from the last time that they had been together. Johnson next tied a black hood over Casey’s head, mumbling something about it being for her own protection, and led her to the trunk of a waiting car. Casey heard him grunt good luck, just before he closed the trunk lid with her inside. A second later, the car pulled out of the lot.

Casey was petrified. It was difficult to breathe with the hood over her head, but she didn’t dare remove it. Everything was dark, and the trunk reeked of motor oil. For the first time in her life, Casey thought about dying.

The trip was long, bumpy, and seemed like it would never end. A million thoughts rushed through Casey’s mind, none of them good. But mostly, she blamed her father. Finally, the car stopped. The trunk was opened. And, Casey was led into a musty, old building, and down a flight of stone steps, still wearing the hood.

She was taken down a long hallway, to a small room adjacent to a large lecture hall. When the hood was finally removed, Casey found herself amidst a group of nine equally frightened men. They were all dressed in similar attire to Casey, and ranged in age from about 16 to 40. What had she gotten herself into now? Casey wondered. After a couple of minutes of uneasy silence, a huge man with a bald head and a handlebar mustache appeared and ordered them to take seats on a bench next to the wall. Although it was never verbalized, the huge man’s scowl let everyone know that neither he nor the upcoming proceeding was to be taken lightly. Casey had never been so frightened in her life. She tried to steady her breathing, but to no avail. Casey just prayed they wouldn’t see through her poker-face and recognize how terrified she really was. At that moment, Casey felt so far away from everything that both West Point and her Christian values stood for, she wanted to cry. How did she ever let her father and Captain Myra talk her into this? This was just horrible, she thought.

Over the past year, Casey had come to despise lies. And, even though her ruse was for a good cause; and even though she was conducting her mission at the request of Army officialdom; every time she misled someone, Casey felt more and more wretched. She was there to protect the academy, and to protect the code, she told herself. But, could she really protect the code by breaking it? She didn’t need this grief, Casey thought, any of it. She wanted to quit and go home.

A minute later, the huge man returned, forcing Casey to suspend her self-pity party and focus on the moment. He ordered them all to rise, and to line up according to height. Even here, Casey reflected, she had to stand at the end of the line. He then solemnly marched the group into the lecture hall.

Showtime, she thought.