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   Sitting watching this on the bus, Par flipped out. They were out to

   get him, no doubt about it. When the bus finally arrived at the depot

   and his mother began sorting out their luggage, Par tucked the red bag

   under his arm and disappeared. He found a pay phone and called Scott

   to find out the status of things. Scott handed the phone to Chris,

   another friend who lived in the house. Chris had been away at his

   parents' home during the Thanksgiving raid.

  

   `Hold tight and lay low,' Chris told Par.

  

   `I'm on my way over to pick you up and take you to a lawyer's office

   where you can get some sort of protection.'

  

   A specialist in criminal law, Richard Rosen was born in New York but

   raised in his later childhood in California. He had a personality

   which reflected the steely stubbornness of a New Yorker, tempered with

   the laid-back friendliness of the west coast. Rosen also harboured a

   strong anti-authoritarian streak. He represented the local chapter of

   Hell's Angels in the middle-class County of Monterey. He also caused a

   splash representing the growing midwifery movement, which promoted

   home-births. The doctors of California didn't like him much as a

   result.

  

   Par's room-mates met with Rosen after the raid to set things up for

   Par's return. They told him about the terrifying ordeal of the Secret

   Service raid, and how they were interrogated for an hour and a half

   before being pressured to give statements. Scott, in particular, felt

   that he had been forced to give a statement against Par under duress.

  

   While Par talked to Chris on the phone, he noticed a man standing at

   the end of the row of pay phones. This man was also wearing a walkman.

   He didn't look Par in the eye. Instead, he faced the wall, glancing

   furtively off to the side toward where Par was standing. Who was that

   guy? Fear welled up inside Par and all sorts of doubts flooded his

   mind. Who could he trust?

  

   Scott hadn't told him about the raid. Were his room-mates in cahoots

   the Secret Service? Were they just buying time so they could turn him

   in? There was no-one else Par could turn to. His mother wouldn't

   understand. Besides, she had problems of her own. And he didn't have a

   father. As far as Par was concerned, his father was as good as dead.

   He had never met the man, but he heard he was a prison officer in

   Florida. Not a likely candidate for helping Par in this situation. He

   was close to his grandparents--they had bought his computer for him as

   a present--but they lived in a tiny Mid-Western town and they simply

   wouldn't understand either.

  

   Par didn't know what to do, but he didn't seem to have many options at

   the moment, so he told Chris he would wait at the station for him.

   Then he ducked around a corner and tried to hide.

  

   A few minutes later, Chris pulled into the depot. Par dove into the

   Toyota Landcruiser and Chris tore out of the station toward Rosen's

   office. They noticed a white car race out of the bus station after

   them.

  

   While they drove, Par pieced together the story from Chris. No-one had

   warned him about the raid because everyone in the house believed the

   phone line was tapped. Telling Par while he was in Chicago might have

   meant another visit from the Secret Service. All they had been able to