The perimeter is unchanged this morning. It’s still manned by people in uniforms that don’t quite match the local police, and it’s still deathly quiet. I worked up the nerve to ask one of them how much longer the barriers would be up. He didn’t even look at me; he just said, ‘Until it isn’t,’ with a voice that sounded like it had been through a thousand rehearsals. Everything they do feels scripted, a pre-planned response to a situation they’ve been studying for years. We are the variables they are trying to solve, and they are waiting for the math to balance out. I don’t think they’re guarding us; they’re just watching the container.
Held Line
That phrasing turns up in records too.