“K-12, this is K-91, for a radio check, over.”
“K-91—this is K-12; copy you loud and clear.” There was a burst of static. “I trust you found the duty map next to the battery charger?”
“Affirmative,” I said. “Sector 4 until 0200, or as otherwise indicated, at which I’ll switch off with Rosco. Is that correct? Over.”
“K-12 to K-91, yes, that’s correct. That includes the Beef Barn, 4-H/FFA Barn, the Wonderful World of Sawdust, and the picnic grove. Oh, and don’t forget the Poultry Building—although it’s pretty hard to miss.”
I had to laugh. “Roger that, K-12. And, yeah—those are some chickens. Me and the wife used our free pass today, and—”
“Cut the chatter, K-91. You’re on duty.”
“Yes—yes, sir, K-12. Sorry about that. K-91 clear. Have a good one. Over.”
“Copy and clear.”
I holstered
