"Wake up Roland, something's wrong."He sat up and fumbled with his rifle. "Sergeant?" Get your gear together and outside, I got a bad feeling about this." The pre-dawn air was chilly, but that wasn't what made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Rioters moaned and pushed at the fence. They stood three deep in places, and even from the loading dock, she heard the fence creak. "Who's in charge here?"One of the gunners pointed to the tracked vehicle. She climbed up next to the turret, and rapped on the commander's hatch. After a moment it popped open. A sergeant she hadn't met before looked her over. "What's going on in there?"She'd been about to ask him the same thing. "Where's the rest of your platoon?"He jerked his thumb at the bay doors behind him. "Inside, the CO sent everyone but two per vehicle to deal with a disturbance, some of the refugees getting violent."She pointed to the crowd straining against the fence. "I think you better do something about that before it falls. The newspaper the next morning told the town that the next game would be against Ashford, so Tag had some idea of what to expect. Tag slept until noon and ate a brunch that would have killed an ordinary man—there was so much to it. Nevertheless, he was ready to take Jane to the dance in time, and she was ecstatic to be going to her first dance in two years.About half way through the dance, a student at the local college had cut in on the couple. Tag was a little annoyed, but did not make a scene. He stepped back and let the guy dance a slow dance with Jane. They had danced for less than two minutes when Jane suddenly slapped his face. Tag had been watching them dance in a blue funk, so he was up and out on the floor just as the punk started to hit Jane back."NO SLUT GETS AWAY WITH SLAPPING ME!" he shouted as what may well have been the top of his voice. Just as he was about to throw a punch at Tag, who was holding his right arm, the security guards showed up and escorted him out of.
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