GWOT IV - Resistance Officer
Aug. 8th, 2019 07:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drewkittyGWOT IV - Resistance Officer
There is what I can only call a delegation at the gates of Alviso Prison.
My commanding officer, Major Janine. Some asshole I haven't met, in full battle rattle but with a major's rank tabs and the SF RESIST name tape, like hers and like mine. A severe looking woman dressed as if for a funeral with a ID card and one of the strangest badges I'd ever seen. Like a Federal agency ID, but with an angry snarling bear carrying an axe in place of the US seal, and the words SF RESIST spelled out in bold where another agency would read FBI, etc.
Homeland has shot prisoners on capture for wearing those two little words.
My prison is full of Homeland detainees. A bit of a turn around for them.
We meet in my office. I have several chairs for meeting with the prisoner delegation, and a safe in which I keep my notes and the inevitable laptop. Otherwise the space is bare. Not even an "I love me" wall which is a standard feature of a commanding officer's work space.
I already know who I am. I don't need to dirty paper to tell me, or anyone else.
In the hallway outside is a mirror. Across the base of the mirror is a question.
"Would you fight the person in this mirror? If you did, who would win?"
It's a reminder to dress the part, guards controlling inmates, many of whom have done our jobs for longer and with less scruples.
Janine is brief.
"Echo 18, I've been transferred. I'm taking a battalion command in Fairfield. Your new boss, Major Simpson, South Bay Logistics Group. Your other new boss, Resistance Special Agent Knight, yes it's a pseudonym. She is your point of contact with Collections and the PG's office."
Provisional Governor, PG. Collections, Resistance Intelligence. She's both a politico and a spook. Great.
Janine gives me a quick hug and leaves. We are always on the run in our business.
"I wear a lot of hats, Echo 18," Agent Knight snaps. "Right now I'm putting on my investigations hat. Audit."
I look at Simpson.
"You are ordered and directed to comply with Agent Knight. Now."
"How can I help?" I ask quickly.
"Open your safe. We'll start with your notes."
"Yes, Agent," I reply.
###
"I am reluctantly impressed," Knight concludes after an exhaustive inspection that includes private interviews with my officers, a site tour, and a review of all our paperwork.
"I was prepared to arrest you for theft and peculation, given the volume of supplies you were requesting. I see that you are putting them to good use."
Arrest me, in my own prison? A neat trick, Agent.
"Now we must review the executions. This is a criminal investigation under the authority of the Provisional Governor. As a civilian law enforcement officer, my authority is to investigate, arrest and recommend for prosecution. If I recommend charges, your commanding officer would convene two other officers for a tribunal. As you are an officer under military discipline, you do not have the right to remain silent. You do have the right to testify on your own behalf and to call witnesses in your favor. Do you understand my authority and your obligation?"
"Yes, Agent."
"You hung a man by the neck until he was dead, with your own hands pulling on the rope. Explain."
###
Seven executions later, which is the number of people I've legally killed since getting out of the Homeland Rest Spa For Suspected Traitors, Agent Knight is satisfied.
"My preliminary finding is that your actions were lawful and justified, and no further action is appropriate. I remind you that there is no statute of limitations on murder, that I do not have original or sole jurisdiction, and neither Homeland nor the Untied Snakes give a rats ass what a rebel government thinks or does. The Snakes consider you a murderer. But they consider any rebel officer a murderer anyway."
I nod.
"From this point forward, any execution for a crime other than a future murder committed by an inmate on the prison rolls, or on the grounds of this facility, must be approved by the Resistance Commission. Again, as I am an investigator but not a military officer, I cannot be on the Commission. I work for the Commission, I gather the facts based on which the Commission must make decisions. I also advise the PG's Office. But I am not a member.
"You wear both hats. The PG's Office has determined that the Warden of Alviso Prison must also be a member of the Commission. Finding someone able to do one of those is hard; both, nearly impossible. Yet, here you are.
"The Commission's next meeting will be at Alviso Prison next week. Make sure you have temporary quarters for six officers and twenty enlisted available. The Commission will be considering death sentences for violations of the laws of war by Homeland command staff and unlawful paramilitary adherents.
"Do you have any preliminary lists?"
"Only in soft copy," I reply, and pass over the laptop.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit. Is this what I think it is?"
"A charge list indexed by UC status for everyone in UC status with names, dates, evidence and known witnesses?"
"How in the hell did you come up with this?"
"Working on it for the last three weeks, ever since we established Geneva compliance for the POWs."
"I saw the roof markings on the way in."
On the buildings housing Prisoners Of War, the letters PW are painted on the roof in ten foot tall stencil font.
Smart bombs can't read. But their targeters can.
The infirmary has a red diamond on a white field, both painted on the roof, on huge signs on all four walls, and flagpoles at all four corners.
In Afghanistan, US targeters mistakenly destroyed a Doctors Without Borders hospital because it displayed signs and flags but not roof symbols. Learn from other people's mistakes when you can.
The only red crosses permitted in my facility are on the arm bands that must be worn by representatives of the International Red Cross.
The UC buildings are not marked.
Please, bomb them. Do us all a favor.
But neither is the guard barracks, or the administrative offices in which we sit. In war you take your chances.
Agent Knight considers me carefully.
"I know most of your story. You weren't Resistance?"
"No."
"I wasn't either. I'm retired US Army, CID. I was quietly enjoying hospice when this shit went down, and Homeland called me up. I disappeared for a bit. Now I'm doing this for a little while."
I looked again. Hospice.
She looked thin, almost frail, and when I looked carefully, her arms were visibly bruised.
"Leukemia," she explained. "I'm transferring my medical records here. I'll need to start chemo again. You need me for as long as I can hold out."
I nodded.
"Well, where's the wardroom? I could use a sandwich."
My real new boss was shown out by my orderly.
My nominal new boss stood up.
"Don't call if you need anything. E-mail only, or radio for the Quick Reaction Force. Good luck, Captain."
I saluted and he left for the next fire.
Hell of a way to run a war.
But civil wars are like that.
There is what I can only call a delegation at the gates of Alviso Prison.
My commanding officer, Major Janine. Some asshole I haven't met, in full battle rattle but with a major's rank tabs and the SF RESIST name tape, like hers and like mine. A severe looking woman dressed as if for a funeral with a ID card and one of the strangest badges I'd ever seen. Like a Federal agency ID, but with an angry snarling bear carrying an axe in place of the US seal, and the words SF RESIST spelled out in bold where another agency would read FBI, etc.
Homeland has shot prisoners on capture for wearing those two little words.
My prison is full of Homeland detainees. A bit of a turn around for them.
We meet in my office. I have several chairs for meeting with the prisoner delegation, and a safe in which I keep my notes and the inevitable laptop. Otherwise the space is bare. Not even an "I love me" wall which is a standard feature of a commanding officer's work space.
I already know who I am. I don't need to dirty paper to tell me, or anyone else.
In the hallway outside is a mirror. Across the base of the mirror is a question.
"Would you fight the person in this mirror? If you did, who would win?"
It's a reminder to dress the part, guards controlling inmates, many of whom have done our jobs for longer and with less scruples.
Janine is brief.
"Echo 18, I've been transferred. I'm taking a battalion command in Fairfield. Your new boss, Major Simpson, South Bay Logistics Group. Your other new boss, Resistance Special Agent Knight, yes it's a pseudonym. She is your point of contact with Collections and the PG's office."
Provisional Governor, PG. Collections, Resistance Intelligence. She's both a politico and a spook. Great.
Janine gives me a quick hug and leaves. We are always on the run in our business.
"I wear a lot of hats, Echo 18," Agent Knight snaps. "Right now I'm putting on my investigations hat. Audit."
I look at Simpson.
"You are ordered and directed to comply with Agent Knight. Now."
"How can I help?" I ask quickly.
"Open your safe. We'll start with your notes."
"Yes, Agent," I reply.
###
"I am reluctantly impressed," Knight concludes after an exhaustive inspection that includes private interviews with my officers, a site tour, and a review of all our paperwork.
"I was prepared to arrest you for theft and peculation, given the volume of supplies you were requesting. I see that you are putting them to good use."
Arrest me, in my own prison? A neat trick, Agent.
"Now we must review the executions. This is a criminal investigation under the authority of the Provisional Governor. As a civilian law enforcement officer, my authority is to investigate, arrest and recommend for prosecution. If I recommend charges, your commanding officer would convene two other officers for a tribunal. As you are an officer under military discipline, you do not have the right to remain silent. You do have the right to testify on your own behalf and to call witnesses in your favor. Do you understand my authority and your obligation?"
"Yes, Agent."
"You hung a man by the neck until he was dead, with your own hands pulling on the rope. Explain."
###
Seven executions later, which is the number of people I've legally killed since getting out of the Homeland Rest Spa For Suspected Traitors, Agent Knight is satisfied.
"My preliminary finding is that your actions were lawful and justified, and no further action is appropriate. I remind you that there is no statute of limitations on murder, that I do not have original or sole jurisdiction, and neither Homeland nor the Untied Snakes give a rats ass what a rebel government thinks or does. The Snakes consider you a murderer. But they consider any rebel officer a murderer anyway."
I nod.
"From this point forward, any execution for a crime other than a future murder committed by an inmate on the prison rolls, or on the grounds of this facility, must be approved by the Resistance Commission. Again, as I am an investigator but not a military officer, I cannot be on the Commission. I work for the Commission, I gather the facts based on which the Commission must make decisions. I also advise the PG's Office. But I am not a member.
"You wear both hats. The PG's Office has determined that the Warden of Alviso Prison must also be a member of the Commission. Finding someone able to do one of those is hard; both, nearly impossible. Yet, here you are.
"The Commission's next meeting will be at Alviso Prison next week. Make sure you have temporary quarters for six officers and twenty enlisted available. The Commission will be considering death sentences for violations of the laws of war by Homeland command staff and unlawful paramilitary adherents.
"Do you have any preliminary lists?"
"Only in soft copy," I reply, and pass over the laptop.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit. Is this what I think it is?"
"A charge list indexed by UC status for everyone in UC status with names, dates, evidence and known witnesses?"
"How in the hell did you come up with this?"
"Working on it for the last three weeks, ever since we established Geneva compliance for the POWs."
"I saw the roof markings on the way in."
On the buildings housing Prisoners Of War, the letters PW are painted on the roof in ten foot tall stencil font.
Smart bombs can't read. But their targeters can.
The infirmary has a red diamond on a white field, both painted on the roof, on huge signs on all four walls, and flagpoles at all four corners.
In Afghanistan, US targeters mistakenly destroyed a Doctors Without Borders hospital because it displayed signs and flags but not roof symbols. Learn from other people's mistakes when you can.
The only red crosses permitted in my facility are on the arm bands that must be worn by representatives of the International Red Cross.
The UC buildings are not marked.
Please, bomb them. Do us all a favor.
But neither is the guard barracks, or the administrative offices in which we sit. In war you take your chances.
Agent Knight considers me carefully.
"I know most of your story. You weren't Resistance?"
"No."
"I wasn't either. I'm retired US Army, CID. I was quietly enjoying hospice when this shit went down, and Homeland called me up. I disappeared for a bit. Now I'm doing this for a little while."
I looked again. Hospice.
She looked thin, almost frail, and when I looked carefully, her arms were visibly bruised.
"Leukemia," she explained. "I'm transferring my medical records here. I'll need to start chemo again. You need me for as long as I can hold out."
I nodded.
"Well, where's the wardroom? I could use a sandwich."
My real new boss was shown out by my orderly.
My nominal new boss stood up.
"Don't call if you need anything. E-mail only, or radio for the Quick Reaction Force. Good luck, Captain."
I saluted and he left for the next fire.
Hell of a way to run a war.
But civil wars are like that.
