A Gentle Hand's Influence: Chapter 3 – The Scope of the Issue

Chapter 3 – The Scope of the Issue

With backup coming in from Meridian, the Compassionate have a grip on the situation in Ferdinand. Of course, many people in Fribus are protesting for the government to go back on their deal with Nanpa after those extremists blew up the restaurant, and people of Nanpa are trying their best to disassociate themselves from them. The protesters aren’t a problem. The problem is the many extremists and isolationists from both sides who have a bone to pick with the other and are now motivated to act against those they perceive to be their enemy. Extremists from Nanpa say they did nothing wrong in the world war, while the extremists from Fribus want old sanctions placed on Nanpa and for every possible suspect of extremism to be taken in and questioned.

As for me, I’d like nothing more than to blow each of their heads off their shoulders and be done with them, but that’s not what the Compassionate are about. We’re not like the Castigators, and honestly, I shouldn’t feel that way after the mercy Polina showed me for the extreme things I’ve done against innocent people. Right now, I’m sitting on a hill overlooking a town where the extremists from both sides are butting heads, daring and pushing the other to start a war between their regions. Raziel and the other Compassionate are down there, trying to reason with people to get them to calm down. It’s at times like this that I wish Polina and Penelope were here, but since they’re putting out bigger fires between opposing groups in a courthouse, we’ll have to do our best to keep things from getting worse than they already are.

Watching the situation in the town through the scope of my rifle that’s on my left arm, I see the chaos that my fellow Compassionate are trying to quell by holding people back, talking to them, and being in between the opposing groups. Some among the groups are armed with guns and are flexing their superhuman abilities, which I keep my eye on the most out of everyone. One of the armed groups from Nanpa starts to raise their rifles and grenades at the opposing crowd. I may not be able to read souls like Raziel or minds like Polina and Penelope, but my experience as a cop and soldier has taught me the signs when someone intends to kill, so I take the shots to kill the extremists. Their guns fire up into the air, and grenades blow up at their feet, causing the rest of the crowds to start openly fighting.

Over our radio, Raziel says, “Zahara, what happened?”

“A group of Nanpa extremists tried firing the first shot against Fribus, so I shot them before they could kill anyone,” I say.

“Good work, but switch to non-lethal for the rest of them, and cover those who can’t. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Roger.”

I switch my sniper to use the non-lethal rounds in its secondary clip and begin picking off extremists. The rounds are strong enough to put superhumans to sleep in two or three shots, and normal people are put to sleep in one. Some of the extremists start to flee, unwilling to fight or start more trouble, and yet, the opposing side keeps going after them. I cover the retreat of those people and the fleeing civilians who are trying to hide in their homes. Some of the civilians hide the extremists and are attacked because of it, forcing me to turn my attention to them to put the attacking extremists down, and then return my attention to the others.

“Stop firing,” I hear someone say as I feel the tip of a gun against the back of my head.

Damn. Didn’t think any of the extremists would come up here. I do as he says and hold my arms up.

“Turn around.”

Turning around, I see a bunch of normal civilians with guns and the flag of Nanpa covering their faces.

“I’m impressed that you managed to disarm my traps without me noticing,” I say.

“We grew up in this region. Of course, we’d notice. You weren’t here when Fribus had leftover traps from the era after the last world war that harmed and killed innocent children and civilians who wandered around.”

“What do you want?”

“We want you to let our side win, and stop firing on us, especially the ones with a cross on our shoulders. We don’t want to kill you, so don’t make a move, and when the fighting stops, we’ll let you go.”

Now, I’m really jealous of Raziel’s, Penelope’s, and Polina’s ability to act without weapons. These don’t seem to be too bad, but at the same time, they’re preventing me from protecting others. My enhanced body and armor will protect me from a few shots, and yet, they could still easily gun me down, since the few bushes around here won’t give me any cover.

“Huh. I’m just noticing the cross. Does it differentiate you from the other extremists? I didn’t even know there was a difference.”

“That’s because you’re a foreigner. This cross is a symbol showing we’re from the Catholic division that seeks to make Nanpa a Catholic country, opposed to those who want to make it heretical.”

“I’m Catholic, so we have common beliefs and sense that we agree on. I can relate to you, but you’re letting your love for your country overwhelm your love for God and neighbor.”

“How so? We’re only going after those who have harmed us and will harm us. Everyone in us in Fribus will be spared when the policies of a Catholic Nanpa rule over Ferdinand.”

“You may say that, but look below through the scope of my rifle. Both sides are killing one another, and innocent civilians are caught in between.”

“The other Nanpa groups don’t know what they’re doing and are getting innocent people killed. Not us.”

“Really? Not from what I can see. There’s a good reason why I didn’t know there were different groups. You people act all the same from what I see down there. Take a look for yourself.”

“…okay, but don’t try anything.”

“I won’t.”

I point my rifle toward the town and allow the man to look into the town and move my arm around to see the rest of what is happening.

“God have mercy on us all…”

“Do you see what you’re stopping me from protecting? Get out of here. Go back to your families. I won’t go after you, and my non-lethal rounds won’t kill your friends.”

“Okay…okay…”

“Are you sure?” one of the other extremists asks.

“Yes.”

“But-”

“Let’s go! Innocent people are dying down there!”

I watch as the extremists leave and don’t let my stop tracking their movements with my eyes, until I see them go over the hill, and hear them get on their motorcycles and drive away.

“Zahara. Zahara, are you okay?” I hear Raziel say over the radio.

“I’m fine,” I say as I resume my sniping.

“What happened? I just noticed you weren’t shooting anymore.”

“I’m surprised you did in all that chaos. I’ll talk to you later about it.”

As I continue knocking out the extremists with my non-lethal rounds, I see the people from before, taking off their face coverings and going out of their way to protect civilians, even turning their guns on their own. Seeing this, I turn my attention to protecting them to ensure they and those they protect. By the end of it, they’re crossing themselves and seem to be thanking God.

“Good job, Zahara. The town is secure, and all the extremists are pacified,” Raziel says over the radio.

“It was no sweat,” I say.

Sitting down, I take a breather and remember the persistent lesson that we’re always fighting against people who believe they’re doing the right thing, no matter how idiotic or evil they seem to be. Some deserve mercy and a second chance. Others deserve death and pity, and I’m grateful to have seen those who deserve mercy trying to make amends for what they’ve done by helping those they’ve hurt.