The ride in the militarized transport was quiet, with no words exchanged between the men who sat inside of its armored belly. Occasional grunts of disapproval came from a thin man’s lips, as his hands would fly wildly at the keyboard in front of him, swiftly entering and deleting characters from a long string of thoughts being exchanged over the internet. This thin man had a very poor complexion, looking more ghost than a man, the man who allowed my release from the station sat next to him and would nudge him away from his own space in the transport if the introvert would fell out of line during its rants. The man who got me out had an older and almost gentleman-like demeanor about him as if he had watched too many British movies or lived within 5 kilometers of Buckingham Palace, he even had the cliché thin and angled mustache to go with it. His voice though broke the illusion quickly because years of smoking had gotten a hold of his throat and caused his words to be of sandpaper-like grit and slurred on letters that were uncommon to the dialect of the human language.
The spacing in the transport was awkward due to the additional people, specifically the four-armed soldiers who took up the rest of the arms room of the seats we sat on. They smelled of tobacco and sweat, grime covering their equipment and faces showing that these men have spent quite some time on the streets of the drowning city. One of the soldiers spun a spent casing in his hand, slowly letting it flow between his gloved fingers as his focus seemed to only include the glinting brass. Another seemed fascinated with his blades, slowly dragging them across a small sharpening stone he held in his hand with eerie respect for the rhythm of the sounds emanating from the honed edges. The other soldiers seemed to be focused on other matters in their heads, looking out the window or checking weapon pieces or parts but not focusing on me or the faux British man in front of me.
The transport finally came to a slow stop, as the familiar hiss and screech of the air brakes but the silence in my head. Another soldier, possibly the driver, opened the door to my left leading us towards a large warehouse with a tall fence topped with razor wire and automated spotlights. The soldiers stepped out first, standing next to transport as the faux man stepped out followed by the introvert and then me. The light hurt my eyes as I squinted and adjusted my hat to cover my brow and shield me from the dying sunlight pouring through the cracks in the skyline. We approached the door leading into the large building, it seemed to be a repurposed loading bay door that opened to show even more gear with soldiers around it just inside the door. With two of the soldiers in front followed by the Brit and pasty man than me with two more soldiers making sure I keep pace with the group in front. We moved towards a freight elevator where two guards stood, one nodded seeing the Brit, and slammed the button on the wall forcing the large metal cage to open, exposing the rusted metal carriage inside. After a short ride, we arrived at the top of the building overlooking the skyline of the city, where a handful of doors stood one, in particular, we were led to what I assumed to be the faux Brit’s office. I was shoved inside by the pair of guards behind me, with the two guards that were in front falling in the line of the large mahogany desk as the faux Brit sat in a leather office chair, with the pasty slender man sitting at an improvised card table desk with three monitors and his laptop in the middle. The man at the desk motioned for me to sit in one of the newly upholstered chairs, and as I took my seat the man began talking in my direction. “Now that we have made it to our establishment, it is about time for our formal introductions. My name is not important, but you may call me Al, for I will be your employer. The man next to me is James, the lead cog in my machine and purveyor of the large database that is the internet. He will be your data connection and your link to what you need to know as you begin your work for me, for you see these men here need a leader, someone who understands both the inside and the outside of these city walls. They are known as Black shields and they will be your hands as you reclaim what has been lost.” Al motioned towards both the soldiers and James; at that point, another man entered the room wearing a uniform that showed officer stature but combat efficiency. The man saluted Al who scoffed at the motion and waved his hand towards me; the man tapped me on the shoulder and led me from the room and down the hall towards another door where he lifted a keycard to the trim where you could hear the click of a lock and the door swung open. Inside resembled my old office from my barracks outside the walls of the city, seemingly homey and covered in military tactical gear and equipment. A new uniform sat upon the wall with shiny silver ranks that showed me that I was given a decent promotion. I turned back towards the man in the room as he threw his hand up in a saluting fashion, “Briefing in two hours colonel, the men will be prepared to meet you with vigor.” The man dropped his hand, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room closing the door behind him, leaving me to my thoughts and understanding the new situation I am in.
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Hours passed and I sat in on the briefing being led by Al and the other officers of the Black shields, the presentation spoke of new management and a new list of targets with a new set of objectives for the organization to accomplish. As the points continued across the plain texted bullet points, I started to understand the reason Al had hired these men. He had found over the years that corruption had flown deep into the structures that support the city and its other foundations and he hoped to flush them out; by hiring these old soldiers and giving them jobs and homes, he inspired a large group of potential martyrs to help him ‘cleanse the city’ and retake what they believed has been lost. Looking at these men around the table I could see familiar faces, faces of those who need direction, motivation, and leadership; Al and his officers gave them those needs. Al finished the presentation with a handpicked list of soldiers who would be leaving the base and joining him in a very specific mission that entails setting up details for other operations. Once all the names were read and the trucks were loaded, I was left with about 250 soldiers at my disposal to finish the list that was left on my desk. I flopped into my chair, list in hand, and began to think about the next necessary steps:
-Reset the judicial system
-Break the jails
-Loosen the grip of the police state
-Hang the jury and set the judges
-Make your presence known
The list is short did not mean that it was going to be easy; apparently, I am supposed to reveal and remove corruption in the command structures of these areas. I was also given names of people I am supposed to put back into these positions, why Al has handpicked these people I don’t know but I do know better than to question the man that got me out of prison and my commanding officer. None of the other officers wanted to explain what the hell is going on and I can’t get answers out of Al, he keeps telling me that details are not necessary to me. It frustrates me as a soldier to be told that but I needed to get my soldiers together and start on the list. I talked to my new squad and we brainstormed for a few hours about how to make some kind of progress but as we talked and ideas were thrown, I remembered the situation I was in as soon as I had arrived back inside the walls, enforcers at my door and locking me in a cell for a crime I never committed. I snapped back to the room before my anger got the best of me and as I came back to reality, one of the soldiers asked why we do this. I stood at the end of the table and looked at them as a unit and explained that I know why I am here; someone wanted me gone, and that is more than enough of a reason for me to use this new position to get some answers. They nodded in agreement as they explained that they were targeted by law enforcement before being hired by Al, we didn’t sit on that point for very long being a sensitive subject for us. We broke for the evening and planned on executing the plans before dawn broke.
I gathered my soldiers and my materials, we then spent the next few weeks questioning and interrogating certain individuals for names, times, and places so that we could complete our lists. The other officers have come to respect me as a soldier and I have done joint ops with the others more and more often as the days go on. Though the details of the missions have become fuzzy as I have started to juggle multiple squads at once, I can confidently cross off a couple of things off my list, we have defiantly made our presence known by killing a few officials and leaving our calling cards, and we have begun to hang the juries by manipulating the databases. The rest will take a few months to work on and a lot of patience, but thankfully we have started the process of reclamation of the city and once we have our footholds I am going to get my questions answered, one way or another.