Spectre of the Sinner - Chapter 7 part 3: A day in a rabid dog's life of exquisite violence and debauchery

As a mark of my ability to quickdraw, the stun device was already launching its payload toward my intended target. While I was observing the unfurling plastic strings, a flash of epiphany briefly reared its ugly head. For a fleeting moment, a part of my mind whispered at me, protesting against whatever plan I was hatching.

“Argh!”

The following thudding sound cut off such internal tangents, for the reality kicked in, was that my superior officer was writhing in pain. His stereotypical summer tourist-like garb soon wrinkled, leaving behind the shell of a soon-to-be-retired operative who was squirming in utter agony on the ground.

“You… Fucking…”

Not wasting any time, I delivered a punt into his austere-looking face, distorting his visage into a disgusting mess of muscles and skin.

“How about you become a good boy and let me take over the authority? Unlike you incompetent lot,” I unholstered my pistol and aimed in the direction of the squad, “I can get us out of this mess…”

“Stop your antics already, Captain [Pompeo],” rallying the rest of the squad behind him, that plebian-born goody two-shoes named [Wallace] mustered his pitiable brand of bravery and justice by pointing his service pistol, an old school [Glock], at my face, “Major is right, you’ve been a liability with all of your irresponsible bullshits. You and your unnecessary killing that got us stuck in this mess in the first place. And I’m tired of your nonsense about politics and whatnot. And now with the…”

“Who cares about those fucking rabbles in the first place? For all of their whining about their working and living conditions, they choose the most damaging way to issue their little puny demands,” I gravelly sneered back at those foolish beings that were called my comrades, “I hope that none of you forget who’s the aggressor during the last world war, because I ain’t fucking forget about their grievous crimes that they committed. So, it’s either you back me up here, or I treat you as yet another treasonous piece of shit. The ball is in your damn court now, what will you do?”

It seemed that my seething words had taken effect on them, for they reluctantly agreed to lower their pistols after wordlessly exchanging glances with each other. Yet, somehow I was annoyed to no end to see their bitter face as they holstered their service pistol. Those ungrateful sons of bitches should have expressed their appreciation for my magnanimous offer, yet they had the gall to wear that kind of disheartening face.

“[Jadgfalke One Two] to [Falken Pesa], do you copy me?”

“[Falken Pesa] to [Jadgfalke One Two], what’s the situation?”

“[Jadgfalke One One] is wounded due to the enemy’s actions, requesting to activate protocol [Zamenjava]. I repeat, requesting to activate protocol [Zamenjava]. Over.”

“[Falken Pesa] to [Jadgfalk One Two], request granted. Out.”

As I busily cuffed my unhappy-looking former superior, an irate-looking [Wallace] called out to me. At this point, I could not help but internally retort about how his facial expression was ruining his vibe of a sparking boyfriend waiting for his date.

“So, Mister Genius, what’s your plan to get us out of this mess that you created in the first place? Please don’t tell me that…”

“Exactly. Oh yeah, please take care of our dear Major [Shepherd]. He looks like he could use some pampering to his wounded pride there.”

With a bitter look on his weathered British face, [Wallace] heaved a long sigh and wearily shook his head before escorting the “wounded” Major back to the squad. The rest of them wore indescribable facial expressions as they readied their service weapons, occasionally stealing an umbrage-filled glance at me.

“Let’s show them that this world order has low tolerance for their terroristic antics. It’s either of them running rampant realizing their little dream of an anarchy-filled communist hellhole,” once I had the task force regrouped, suddenly a sense of excitement ran its course through my body while I pointed the muzzle of my pistol toward the raging mob, “or we can become heroes by helping those hardworking cops restore the order. Which side of history you guys are willing to stand on?”

A moment of utter silence passed by.

A soft tongue-clicking sound escaped my lips once I looked at the profoundly unamused faces of my supposedly comrades-in-arms. A wave of mockery silently slithered among them, with some discreetly shaking their heads, while others heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Anyway… Let’s make a breakthrough at this horde of unruly mobs by…”

Then, I pulled the trigger toward a rioting rebel.

Blam! Blam!

The black-clad terrorist-wannabe dropped to the hard concrete road like a puppet got its strings cut and let go of a piece of pavement brick onto the hard ground.

A group of huddling anti-riot officers briefly looked stunned at the unfolding scene, barely able to comprehend the ever-evolving reality.

“What the fucking hell you guys are still standing there in a daze? Hurry and haul your arse doing your job properly!”

“Hii!”

“To our getaway vehicles! Hurry!”

By randomly dumping 5.7 into the flock of rioters, a path to the extraction point was opened up as those hotheaded scoundrels quickly dispersed away.

Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!

2 of the more determined ones fell down, dropping the improvised ordnance onto the ground. It seemed that one of them was planning to throw a bottle of Molotov cocktail toward us, for the spot where the projectile was dropped erupted a raging blaze. Soon, the bastard’s dying body was consumed by the fire, emitting an intense burning odor.

Ignoring the unpleasant sight, my legs continued to carry me away from the scene of rampage and destruction.

Soon, a pair of unmarked vans and a black SUV waiting impatiently at the corner of a relatively quiet street appeared in my vision. One of the plainclothes operatives, looking bored out of his mind as he absentmindedly gazed to God knows where suddenly jolted in surprise as he noticed the arrival of several running footsteps.

“What has taken you guys so long? And about the disturbances I heard…”

“Those fuckers got Major,” I hurriedly shouted over his questioning as I opened the door of the SUV, “let’s get out of here before those damn ungrateful rebels catch up with us.”

After a short moment of buzzing activities, the same guy finally jumped into the driver’s seat next to me. Wearing a subtly indescribable expression on his face as he fumbled his way to start the car, the man would occasionally steal glances toward me before hastily averting his gaze.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Hurry up and get us out of this fucking hellhole already!”

“Yes sir!”

With a soft starting sound, the SUV rolled its wheel away from its parking position, heading toward the Yokota AFB. Silently heaving a sigh, I contemplated the next course of action as I watched the riot being methodically suppressed by those diligent anti-riot cops. It would be nice if those violent villains got their due justice soon, such a thought flashed through my mind.