
Chapter
3 – For My People, Not Yours
Just as we expected, what happened
last night with the SIB agents and police officers exploded in our faces. My
squad is called to the police headquarters, where we are individually
interrogated about what happened and then collectively berated by the heads of
the city’s police force for the actions we took without their approval. While
they yell at us, none of my squadmates flinch or talk back, so I follow their
example by also saying nothing.
By the end of it, one of the police
chiefs asks, “Well? Do you have nothing to say for yourselves?”
Kurtis speaks for us by saying, “We
don’t regret our actions. We did what we knew to be right, so if you’re going
to take our jobs, then save us both the trouble and time by taking them.”
“Tch. You got balls, Kurtis. All
your men do, but then again, you all always have, by your history of putting
your necks on the line for the people of this city. No, we won’t take your
jobs. We need men like you in the field and firing; you will make us look
worse, so you will continue to work as officers, but you must stay at your
office until called upon while on the job. After this mess is sorted, you will
be suspended for a time, only committing yourselves to the assignments we give
you and not choosing them for yourselves, until we know you won’t act out of
line again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” my squad says.
“Right. Now get the hell out of my
sight.”
Going back to the office, we turn
on the news to see how the public is dealing with what happened, and it’s not
good. Knowing that there’s Slavic infiltration of the city’s law enforcement
has moved groups of Vorfahren to protest against them, and the Slavs are
counter-protesting as well, accusing them of having people manipulate the
country’s government. My squad is featured on the news and praised by the news
and the city’s people for protecting the country’s sanctity. Somehow, they know
we’re suspended, leading to criticism of the city’s police and protests outside
the city for its choice and for allowing corruption to fester inside it.
“Do you think we’ll be blamed for
everyone knowing we got suspended?” Cole asks.
“If we were, we would’ve gotten
another earful on the phone. Did any of you leak it?” Kurtis asks.
Max, Cole, and I deny leaking our
suspension.
“How could we? We just got out of
there and are around one another, so we’d know if one of us did it. It must’ve
been one of the infiltrators in police headquarters,” Max says.
“I hope they call us soon so I can
give them a piece of my mind and shove the leak in their faces,” Cole says.
“Calm down. You acted perfectly
there. There’s no reason to dig ourselves a deeper grave,” Kurtis says.
Breaking news comes on TV from the
office of the SIB. One of its leaders, Donnie Paralrono, talks about how the
SIB agents from yesterday are actually normal officers and not in the SIB’s
database. Their SIB badges are fake, and the officers associated with them were
already known to politically lean left, but the SIB didn’t pursue looking into
them further because of the country’s freedom of speech and belief.
“Bullshit! They should’ve done
something, and President Campione should make their beliefs illegal, along with
the cult of the Pale Green Horse,” Cole says.
“They’d have to do more damage to
the country for that to happen,” I point out.
“How much more can they do besides
get people killed and cause chaos in the streets? Screw this. I have to do
something about it.”
Cole stands up from his desk, and
Kurtis stands in front of him.
“Cole,” Kurtis says.
“What? Are you really going to stop
me?”
“We have to play this smart. We’ll
be called upon to keep order and peace in the city, so we will be out in the
field.”
“But that’s not enough when there’s
corruption in the police force!”
“We’ll take care of that off the
job during the night, unless you need to get your beauty sleep.”
“That’s fine with me. I’ve always
done a lot of my work while off the job,” Max says.
“I’m sure Astorre and your friends
are already doing an investigation of their own,” Kurtis says.
“You know it. I’m getting texts
from him about their progress and constant thanks for saving him.”
“Cole? Is that okay with you?”
“I don’t like it, but I also don’t
want to do this on my own with no leads to follow. Fine.”
Sure enough, as Kurtis said, police
headquarters calls us to help keep the peace. My squad stands outside police
headquarters, armed with riot gear. The crowds calm down a bit when they see
us, tell us that we shouldn’t be defending the headquarters, and implore us to
join them.
“They’re just using us to protect
themselves,” Cole whispers.
“Shut it, Cole. We’re supposed to
protect the peace, nothing else. We’ll get to doing more later,” Kurtis
whispers back.
Eventually, after hours of
protesting, the people disappear in the afternoon. With the city at peace,
we’re told our work is done, so my squad drops off our weapons, armor, and
police uniforms at our office, changes into civilian clothes, and gets into
Kurtis’ car, where he gives each of us a pistol.
“Do you think something like this
would happen?” I ask.
“You can never have enough guns to
keep the people you care for and yourself safe,” Kurtis says.
“I have never agreed with you on
something as much as this,” Cole says.
Kurtis drives us to Astorre’s
restaurant. We go through the back and meet Astorre and his people there, who
are arming themselves.
“Kurtis! I never thought I’d see
the day that you act like a vigilante. Now you’ll really see what being an
outlaw on the side of the law is like,” Astorre says with a grin on his face.
“Where are we going and what are we
doing?” Kurtis asks.
“There’s a meeting of Slavs in a
building that isn’t marked for their political meetings. You probably passed it
by without knowing that’s where the traitors within the police and our
government meet. We’ll record them conspiring against the country and then move
in to make a citizen’s arrest, and if they choose to resist, well, taking them
in alive becomes optional.”
“Optional for you, but not for me.”
“Heh. Sure.”
My squad takes Kurtis’ car while
Astorre and his people take separate cars to the Slav meeting place. We park a
little bit away from it and get to the building from separate streets to not
draw suspicion to us. Max uses a lockpick gun on the doors and gets us inside.
As we enter, we don’t see anyone and make sure our footsteps are as quiet as
possible while walking through the building. Going into the basement, we see a
couple of guards standing outside a door. Assuming that’s where the meeting is
taking place, Kurtis loads knockout darts into his pistols and shoots them at
the two guards. Before the guards can hit the ground, we gently lower them.
Astorre pulls out a mirror gun and
uses it under the door to look in and hear what is happening inside. Inside the
meeting room, we see a gathering of about twenty people, some of whom I
recognize from police headquarters and city festivals.
They talk to one another, saying, “Are
we going to have to resort to the backup plan?”
“Would that even work this time?
Our friends in secret places already failed to try to kill Campione, and that
only secured him the office. What do you think will happen when we try to go
after others who have the public’s support?”
“Perhaps it is time for us to go
into hiding or go to other places in the country that better support us.”
“That takes time, which we do not
have. The SIB are onto us, meaning that suddenly disappearing for years is our
best way to stay out of jail.”
“We can’t just take this sitting
down. I refuse to! A mafia man runs the country, and he got it through blood
and subterfuge! Why shouldn’t we do the same?!”
“It’s suicide.”
“But it’s morally correct! We have
a lot of people behind us. We can get this done.”
“They’re only behind us because of
our promises and everything we’ve given them, and those dues will have to be
paid.”
“It can be paid with taxpayer
dollars, as we planned. I already have my plans on how to kill our targets and
the PR campaign we’ll run after it to smear the dead and prop up the assassins.”
“I’ve had enough of this,” Kurtis
whispers.
“I’d say we should get more, but I
agree with Kurtis. Let’s bring them in,” Astorre says.
Busting into the room, my squad and
our allies draw our pistols onto the Slavs and hold them at gunpoint, telling
them they’re under arrest for conspiring to overtake the United States Chimaera
government and to murder.
“Kurtis, working as a vigilante?
This is a surprise. You’re a traitor to your badge,” the Slav infiltrator says.
“You’re a traitor to your country,”
Kurtis says back.
“I’m a traitor because I want the
country to follow an ideology that betters it and champions the poor and
struggling?”
“You only do that for your benefit!
You’re just like Judas, who wants to give to the poor for the show of it. Let’s
not forget about the chaos you caused these past few days that has caused more
trouble for the common man than the rich, which all of you are,” Astorre says.
“As if you’re one to judge.”
“I know how to judge with righteous
judgment, unlike you self-righteous pricks who follow your feelings more than
your senses.”
“Enough! Cuff them,” Kurtis says.
While we start cuffing the Slav
conspirators, they keep trying to argue with us, and even some start resisting
arrest. One woman tries to take a gun out of Cole’s hand, so he fires a shot
into her shoulder.
“Do you want one in your head? You
better act smarter if you don’t!” Cole says.
Another of the Slav conspirators
tries to kill himself with a gun that he has in the back of his pants, but I
shoot it out of his hand, tackle him to the ground, and cuff him. Things are
starting to get out of hand as the Slav conspirators try to run away, forcing
Astorre and his people to shoot them in the legs and beat everyone else who is
refusing to be arrested quietly.
“Is this what you call law enforcement,
Kurtis?” one of the Slav conspirators says.
Kurtis knocks the man out with one
punch to the face. “As if you’d know anything about it,” he says.
We call the police to haul away the
Slav conspirators and the evidence we have against them. We also accompany the
police to give our testimony about what happened, and we have our lawyers,
provided by Astorre, on standby to make sure the evidence isn’t tampered with
and that we aren’t asked any unfair questions. The next day, what happened that
night is already on the news, and my squad, Astorre, and his people are given
even more fame than before, especially since the Slav conspirators rat out
their fellow conspirators. Those conspirators are arrested as well, with the
help of the SIB, who were already making sure the stragglers weren’t escaping
the city. Another day comes around, and we’re told that we’re going to receive
Exemplary Citizen medals from the president himself.
Before the public ceremony in front
of police headquarters starts, I say, “Can you believe this? It feels like a
dream.”
“I still can’t believe the SIB weren’t
corrupt and were the good guys,” Max says.
“Yeah, I found that hard to believe
too,” Cole says.
“Oh, of course they’d be here too,”
Kurtis says as Astorre and his people approach us.
“Why wouldn’t we get medals too?” Astorre
says with a smile.
“It’s just that I’d be upset if you
didn’t.”
“What? Were you going to give me
yours if I didn’t get one?”
“Perhaps.”
“You’re a good friend, Kurtis.”
“You ladies can kiss and make up
later. The president is coming,” Cole says.
The president comes in his car,
flanked by SIB guards. With him are his brother Cesare Campione, his wife, and Cesare’s
wife. Both brothers are dressed like Astorre, as if being found out as a man of
honor doesn’t make a difference, and I guess in these current days and with his
good track record, it doesn’t. The president, Vincenzo Campione, waves and
smiles to the surrounding crowd as he makes his way to us.
When he gets to us, he shakes our
hands and then says, “Gentlemen. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“The honor is ours, sir,” my squad
says in unison.
“Let’s get this show on the road
then.”
My squad, along with Astorre and
his people, goes on stage, where we receive our medals.
Vincenzo gives a speech where he
says, “These men and women are examples of what we all should be. With great strength
comes the responsibility to protect the weak and each other. These people
risked their lives and livelihoods to protect our country and way of life from
falling into the corrupt ways of the Slavs, and I cannot thank them enough for
doing so. The Slavs think that it is men who decide what is right and wrong,
but here, in the United Chimaera States, we know that men make laws, but God
decides what is right and wrong. That is why the United Chimaera States is the
best and most free country in the world. Even with our enemies in our midst, we
treat them justly, unlike the Slavs or Vorfahren across the sea, who throw them
into camps. We first try to change their hearts, and if they refuse, we give
them justice and then let them live their lives.
Do not be mistaken. We do not
tolerate evil or falsehood that corrupts men from within. We will fight against
all who plot to corrupt our way of life, and punish them accordingly, and I know
for a fact, because of the people on stage with me and others like them in our
country, that no one will overtake us. Not while we still live, and generations
after us follow our example. God bless the United Chimaera States, and may
mercy and justice reign in our land forevermore.”
The surrounding crowd claps and
cheers for Vincenzo, who steps down from the stage and walks to his family as a
band plays a Mediterranean version of the national anthem. Meanwhile, we walk offstage
and join the others in our party.
At our table, Kurtis says, “I feel
like we were used to advance some political agenda.”
“If we were, it seems like a good
one,” Cole says as he eats and drinks.
“I agree with the president. It makes
sense to give a speech on the current day topic so we can spit in the face of foreign,
false ideologies and prop up our victory against them,” Max says.
“Xander? What do you think?”
Cole, Max, and Kurtis look at me as
I finish my drink.
“I think I just want to do what God
wants me to and protect this country,” I answer, not really knowing what to say.
My squad smiles at me, and Kurtis
pats me on the back.
He says, “Good answer, kid.”
What else can I say? I’m a police
officer. With one group of criminals put away, all I’m thinking about now is
the continuation of the role God has given me and glorifying Him through it.

The End


