Judgment at Alcatraz by Dave Edlund (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📗

with the settlers. He knew that only by force could his people have their homeland.”

Toby shook her head. “Captain Jack’s Modoc name was Kintpuash. And he and Winema were cousins. Perhaps that is why Winema was able to freely access the Modocs during the peace negotiations. Regardless, initially Captain Jack did believe in the negotiations. It was only later that he reluctantly agreed to go along with the other Modoc leaders in the plot to murder the commissioners.”

“Captain Jack was hanged,” Sacheen said. “Winema chose to save a white man over her own flesh and blood.”

“Murder is immoral and unlawful. Winema did what was right. Many whites were sympathetic to the plight of the Modocs. But that changed with the murder of Canby. The cowardly attack on the peace commissioners played into the stereotype crafted by those in favor of exterminating the Indigenous Americans.”

“And how would you say the nations have fared over the past one hundred fifty years of negotiated peace with Washington?”

Toby remained silent. She had come to join the protest to draw attention to the inequities Native Americans had faced since Europeans first colonized the Americas. But there was nothing to gain from further debate.

“It’s different now,” Sacheen said.

“And how is that?”

Toby didn’t buy it. Change would come slowly, as social transformation would require generations to alter their biases, as well as societal norms.

“The nations never united to fight their common enemy—the US government,” Sacheen replied. “We are united now. But more importantly, now we can fight for our rights, using superior weapons and tactics. The politicians cannot resist.”

“And if they do?”

“Then they will taste the bitterness of our resolve. We cannot lose this time.”

Toby shook her head. “Why do you think you can beat the government? They command the police, as well as the most powerful military. What do you have? A dozen warriors with rifles?”

“We have a weapon that will turn their cities into uninhabitable wastelands. Come, join us.” She stepped back from Toby and cast her gaze across the protestors. “All of you. Join us. Be united with your brothers and sisters. Together, we will gain our rights which have been denied for so long. Our ancestral lands will be ours once again.”

“No,” Toby said. “This is not the path our forefathers would have taken. They understood that bloodshed would only lead to more bloodshed. Never to peace.”

“Anyone who wishes to join our Movement,” Sacheen said, “step forward and stand by my side.”

None of the protestors moved.

“Very well. Then you are traitors to your people.” She turned to one of her men. “Take them into the building. Treat them the same as the other hostages.”

Chapter 14

At the sight of the ferry tender coming into the dock at high speed, and expeditiously disgorging its armed passengers, Danya turned and ran back through the sally port. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t good, and she needed to separate herself from the throng of tourists.

On the uphill side of the gate was the military chapel and the derelict electric repair shop. Neither building was open to the public, and the wide walkway angled past the front of the buildings before turning sharply back and sweeping around the rear of the structures as it climbed to the cellblock. She hopped the metal fence skirting the edge of the paved pathway, and scurried down the narrow alley between the two buildings. She used the structures to conceal her presence from the four armed men she saw running up the path.

She worked her way to a position near a corner of the chapel where she was above the footpath, yet could still observe the events unfolding on the ferry dock and the adjacent courtyard.

The three gunshots she’d heard had the characteristic deep boom of a large-caliber rifle. Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw smoke billowing from the engine on the Zodiac about half a mile from the edge of the dock.

There’s a sniper out there somewhere. Through her binoculars, she saw the SFPD emblem on the inflated buoyancy cell.

The presence of a large number of armed men—presumably terrorists—was unsettling. Her immediate priority was to evade detection and capture.

What are they after? If she could figure out their plan, she would be better able to resist.

Escape was an unlikely possibility. The very reasons that these facilities were constructed on this rocky island in the middle of San Francisco Bay made escape virtually impossible. Unless, that is, she could steal the futuristic-looking yacht tender.

Danya had no idea how she could steal the boat from right under the noses of the terrorists, or if she could get any of the captives safely on board and ferry them across the channel to San Francisco.

One step at a time. First, identify the objective. And then develop the plan.

With so many hostages under the control of the terrorists, there would be no rescue. The sniper shot that had disabled one of the outboard engines on the police boat was a clear message to stay away. Any attempt to storm the island from marine craft, or from the air, could precipitate a slaughter of dozens, maybe hundreds, of innocent men, women, and children. She had no idea how far this radical group might go if threatened, but she’d certainly had dealings with Middle Eastern terrorist cells that would not hesitate to execute hostages to keep the military at bay.

From her concealed position next to the chapel, she glassed the dock landing. Her interest settled on the group of protestors. She could clearly see Toby engaged with the armed woman. Danya was too far away to hear what was being said, but at least there weren’t any guns pointed at Toby.

Following a lengthy exchange, Danya watched as the protestors were led away at gunpoint, to the same building where the other civilians had been taken. She surmised that they were all being held in a large room in the barracks building. Unfortunately, during her brief tour of the island, she had not entered the former barracks, and