| From: | ANGLISS BRIAN EDWARD <angliss@****.Colorado.EDU> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | A little background(REALLY long) |
| Date: | Tue, 30 Apr 1996 01:18:04 -0600 (MDT) |
>>>>>["Boss, you wanted to see me?"
Come in, Monty. Sit down.
"Ok, boss. What's up?"
I wanted to talk to you about yesterday's engagement.
"Uhhhh, ok...."
Monty? Talk to me. I want to know what you felt yesterday. After all, it
was the first time I've put a long rifle in your hands since you took command
of the unit.
"I felt really fraggin strange, boss. You put me in command of the best
snipers I've ever worked with over three years ago and never let me carry a
long rifle in all those years. To suddenly have you put a rifle in my hands
and entrust your life to me felt really fraggin strange."
Why, Monty?
"Because according to the law, I'm still a criminal. I'm still serving part
of my sentence, boss. And I've got thirty years to go on it still. And here
I am, a convicted criminal officially still serving his sentence, being
entrusted with the life of a cop, the same cop...."
Who tracked you down and put you away ten years ago, right?
"Yeah. How could you do that?"
Putting you away was relatively easy, Monty. So was trusting you not to kill
me yesterday. What was hard was convincing the UCAS to give you 40 years
instead of death when I was only a Sergeant myself. And it was hard to get
you released into Special Branch's custody too, when I took over five years
ago. And what was really hard was giving you that first pistol and standing
there not knowing if you'd pop the clip in and level it at my head. Compared
to all that, yesterday was easy.
"Boss, you can't know what they did to me in those five years in the can."
I know quite well what they did, Monty, and if they hadn't, you'd never have
been let out. Not even in 40 years.
"WHAT!?! You sonofaslitch! They used fraggin drugs and penal psychology
treatments, with regular beatings from the rest of the inmates, half of who
wanted to be my husband! And the UCAS wonders where the frag Lone Star
gets their ideas for criminal conditioning!"
SERGEANT! Control yourself!
"Sir!"
Yes, Sergeant Montoya, I know what goes on there because I've been there. I
had to go there to get you out, remember?
"Yes, sir."
Good. Now that I've got your undivided attention and probably your intense
anger too, I've got a question. How did it feel to kill a man, Monty?
"Frag you, boss...."
Not a good enough answer, Monty. How did it feel to blow his head clean off?
It took a medic 20 minutes to dig some of the skull fragments out of my back,
Monty, and I can still smell the cordite and brains that the shower couldn't
get out of my scales. How did it feel to kill _again_, Monty?
"Frag you, you bastard! What do you want me to say, that I enjoyed it?!
Huh? Well, I didn't! I hated it! For the first time in my life I killed a
man and it felt like fraggin drek, ok? To use a term my dad used to use, it
sucked dog dick, ok? I had nightmares last night about it! For the first
time since I got out of The Hole, I had nightmares about something other
than The fraggin Hole! Do you know at all what it's like to kill a man,
boss? Do you really know what it's like to kill a man when you really
enjoy it? And then to become something so different that you barely
recognize yourself? Do you?"
Yes.
"Do....what?"
I said 'yes', Monty. Yes, I do know.
"I don't understand, boss."
Come over here and sit at my terminal. I want you to see something.
"Uh, ok."
Type 'alabaster 16 Janus 1A 78 QZT'
[Good evening, Commander. Please verify request with retinal scan.]
Ahhh, almost forgot that.
[Thank you, Commander. Retinal scan has been verified. Disconnecting
terminal from InterPol internal Matrix. Please wait.....terminal
disconnected. Connecting terminal to STICK storage unit. Please wait.....]
"Stick? What the frag is that?"
Deoxyribonucleic acid degradable wet storage unit. Without a valid retinal
scan, it destroys itself when access is attempted, and this particular
terminal is smart enough to recognize if my eye has been removed or
duplicated since it scans quite a bit more than just my eye.
"DNA storage unit? I thought those were obsolete."
They are, but they're far easier to destroy than optical chips, and with
enough heat you can't ever reclaim any part of the data. Optical chips
don't....ahh, there we go.
[STICK storage accessed. Please enter request.]
Type 'Jose Chiapa'.
"Do I have to, sir?"
Just do it, Monty, and read it aloud.
"Ok. 'Jose Chiapa, known aliases: Chap, Rolls, Paolo, Tape, and Desert.
Born: Tenochitlan, 2018. Outstanding warrants: First Degree Murder, 14
counts. Second Degree Murder, 8 counts. Attempted Murder, 3 counts.
Kidnapping, 5 counts. Suspected Employers: Aztechnology. Current
whereabouts: FRFZ, Aztlan Zone.' Is that enough, boss?"
You forgot the date, Monty.
"Sorry. July 19, 2047. What was the point of this, boss? I already know my
own history."
And the second page, Monty?
"It's an arrest detail, signed by the arresting officer, you, dated July 21,
2047."
Right. InterPol maintains excellent records from then on, but I like to keep
the dossiers of all the people I work with separate. How much do you know
about Agent Long Arm, one of your snipers?
"Very little, boss. You made it clear that I wasn't to ask about his past."
I'm glad to hear you didn't pry, Monty. Look up Edward D. Acorn.
"Ok. 'Edward D. Acorn, known aliases: Zap, Case, Ed, Axe, Thrillville, and
RXCW26. Born: Cheyanne, 2023. Outstanding warrants: First Degree Murder,
8 counts. Second Degree Murder, 6 counts. Vehicular Homicide, 17 counts.
Drug trafficking, 48 counts. Burglary, 32 counts. Auto theft, 21 counts.
Kidnapping, 4 counts. Suspected employers: Jade Lotus clan, Martina family.
Current whereabouts: Unknown, suspected Milan, Italy. Date, May 12, 2053.'
The second page is an arrest detail, signed by you again as the arresting
officer, dated August 26, 2053. What's your point, boss? That he's a
criminal serving a reduced sentence working for InterPol? Frag, I'd figured
that already. This only confirms it."
Very well, pick someone you know who's not a criminal and tell me their name.
"Jane."
Physically adept enforcer for the O'Doule family in Boston, real name Julia
McCrossan. Look it up, but I know her really well.
"Julia McCrossan.... Fraggin-A! 230 outstanding warrants for extortion!
Son of a slitch.... How about Tagit? He's about as clean as they come."
Real name Siegfried Tate, bodyguard gone bounty-hunter gone bad. You're
right, though, he's about as close to clean as I can think of too.
"You mean that every single Special Branch agent is an ex-con? Every single
one?"
Here's one more for you. Hugh Miner. Read it out loud.
"'Hugh Miner. Known aliases: Mad Max, Thunderdome, and Road Warrior. Born:
Westchester, 2006. Outstanding warrants: First Degree Murder, 12 counts.
Vehicular Homicide, my god....86 counts. Second Degree Murder, 238
counts.... Arson, 43 counts. Suspected Employers: None. Current
Whereabouts: Unknown, suspected to be in California Free State. NOTE:
This individual is suspected to be pathological. Approach with extreme
caution. The second page is another arrest detail, arrest made on January 3,
2038, by Commander Wu.' Wasn't he your predecessor?"
Yes, he was. He was killed five years ago by a corporate strike team who
didn't like his intentions to make Special Branch a little more independent.
He groomed me to replace him.
"And this Miner guy? He's a real sick puppy. Who is he now?"
Me.
"Huh?"
I said 'me', Monty. My original name was Hugh Minor, and I was, as you said,
a real sick puppy.
"Boss, this joke just isn't funny any more."
If it was a joke, I'd agree.
"I don't get it, boss. I don't understand."
You knew that Special Branch used a lot of criminals, usually the runners we
caught, who were given reduced sentences, cranial bombs and tracking beacons
in return for their help working for Special Branch. That's not a big
secret. The big secret is that every Special Branch agent since Commander
Eckley in 2032 has been a criminal, and a large number of them the hard core
ones who got sent to The Hole. Why do you think Special Branch's quasi-
independence freaks out the regular IP cops? Because we're criminals! The
whole fraggin thing is bulldrek and the criminals are doing a better job of
enforcing the law than the cops are! They're also afraid of us, because
they're afraid that we'll go nuts again and Special Branch will go ballistic.
How many Special Branch agents do you think there are right now, Monty?
"I don't know, maybe 500 world wide."
Try 2349 worldwide, and they're all ex-cons of one form or another. I've
personally put over 20% of them away. In another four or five years, some of
them will be the ones you've arrested and put away too. The only ones who
aren't ex-cons are the psychologists we all have to talk to once every month
or so.
"How many people know all this?"
Every national government that provides money to run InterPol and everyone
in the InterPol hierarchy above the rank of Major.
"No, boss, I mean the Special Branch agents who work alongside fellow ex-
cons."
None, except me. And now you too. But you can't tell anyone either. One of
the agreements with InterPol and all the member nations is that Special
Branch maintains internally unaware except in unusual cases. Monty, you'd
never have made it out of The Hole if every nation you'd wronged and who was
an IP member hadn't agreed to let you try. They were all willing to give you
a shot. I was their biggest gamble ever, and I still am, and Cal Free,
Sioux, UCAS, CAS, Pueblo, UK, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, and Ute all
agreed to give me a shot. I think I turned out pretty damn well. So did
you.
"So why the frag are you telling me this? What makes me so fraggin special?"
Commander Wu hand groomed me to become the next head of Special Branch. With
this Lynch fiasco, I may not live a hell of a lot longer. If Lilith or Blade
or someone else doesn't get me, Major Zicahuata or his cronies will. And
you needed to know, since I've been grooming you to take over after I've
been killed.
"Boss, what the frag are you talking about?"
Monty, I'm not going to live to a ripe old age, even with all the mods I've
got, because I've made too many powerful enemies. Not many people believe
in the law anymore. So many people believe it's merely a cheap whore to be
bought and sold whenever someone feels like. And those people are right.
The law is bought and sold like some penny stock or junk bond, by corps and
nations who give not a whit for anyone but themselves. Even with Jason's
vow to protect the UCAS citizenry, the UCAS is no better than TNO or Aztlan
with their trading in on the law, but he either doesn't see that or can't.
There are no innocents anymore, and I've made enough enemies that if even
one of them decides I'm better off dead, I'll be dead. The only reason I
survived that fraggin building was because Diana's expert was a little off
on the strength of the data vault. Last year it was the Org, this year it
might be Lilith, or the UCAS SIGA, or the Azzies. Ultimately, I'm dead
already. My body just hasn't decided where to lay down yet.
And you're going to take over after me, Monty, because you're the only one
who believes in the law like I do, like Wu and Eckley did. Some of Special
Branch is corrupt, some just don't care so long as they're out of prison,
some never really rehabilitated. I did. So did you. As little as I like
The Hole, I've never known anyone to come out of it without being rehabbed
properly. But you can't tell anyone, ever, until you choose your
replacement, Monty, unless they're on a very short list that only includes
the InterPol national representatives and the governing council. It's the
end of Special Branch if you do. It can _never_ be known.
"That really sucks dog, boss. Big time."
Tell me about it. You don't know how much I'd like to tell Jason just why I
can't accept his ideas on morality and justice outside the law. I've wanted
to shout in his face "LISTEN! I used to be a mass murderer! Your
beautifully concrete 'morality' and 'justice' would have killed me when the
law kept me alive and gave me a second chance! The path you follow kills me
and all those like me all the time, but the law gives me and those like me a
chance to redeem themselves and reverse the wrongs they've done to the
world." But I can't tell him that, Monty. And eventually you will know a
person like him as well, a person you want to tell, but can't. It's kind of
ironic that Wu left me his diary and said that he had a similar relationship
with Lynch's boss. We seem to be the perfect foils for each other.
"Boss, why the frag did you ask me whether I enjoyed killing that man?"
Because I had to know. I put a rifle back in your hands to see how you would
handle it. There was always that chance that you could have put the bullet
into me. If you had enjoyed the experience, you were the wrong person for
the job. I had to be sure, Monty, and that was the only way to be sure.
Now, only one thing left to do. Move over.
[Tania priority activated. Retinal scan verified. Please place finger in
DNA scanner for DNA verification. Thank you, please wait............DNA
verified, Commander. You wish to alter the authorization codes?]
Yes. Tania, Sergeant Jose Montoya is to be added to the access logs.
[Sergeant Jose Montoya, please place your eye to the scanner and your right
hand into the DNA scanner. Thank you, please wait........Retinal pattern
for Jose Montoya has been verified with STICK data. DNA pattern is being
scanned, please wait........thank you, Sergeant Jose Montoya. You have been
added to the access log for this terminal and STICK storage unit.]
"So it's official, then?"
Yep. You're now my designated heir. It's a dubious honor at best, Monty.
Oh, by the way, I've got a gift for you. Here.
"What the frag is this? It's really fraggin heavy. A telescope?"
Open it, Monty, and find out.
(click click click) "Oh, frag...."
I thought you might recognize that.
"I thought this had been melted down. It probably should have been."
I saved it from that particular fate. That's the rest of the reason why I
needed you to get your fingers on a long rifle. You're the best sniper I've
ever known, Monty. You need your own weapon back. Just be careful with it.
"Sure thing, boss."
Now, for a couple of orders. Report to Seattle General at 0900 hours.
You've got an appointment to have a tracker and a cortex bomb removed. And
go down to the sniper range with your Barret and show the rest of InterPol
how a sniper's supposed to shoot. After all, you are a little rusty.
"Yes sir. Anything else?"
Just one thing. No-one can ever know, for any reason. That's the price for
freedom and redemption. And always remember to delete any logs that talk
about this in any way, shape, or form. There can be no evidence either.
"Got it, boss."
Get outta here, Monty. I've got my job and Special Branch to save.
Tania, delete office log.
[Office log deleted.] ]<<<<<
-- Cmdr. Drake Private Office Log <00:53:00/04-30-57>
