POV - Jordan Nelson, Minister of Internal Security
[Day 1, March 2002, 1pm]
As the Governor swiftly made his exit, I couldn't help but scoff inwardly at his hasty departure. If he wasn't up to the task, he should just step down, I mused, inwardly seething at the thought of his supposed leadership. And what kind of name is Charles Anwaar Layeed anyway? Sounds like something out of a children's storybook.
The damn kid had just allocated a whopping $15 million to that Athena Guard woman, the relic of a regime that had long overstayed its welcome. Meanwhile, our streets are crawling with unemployed military men, and there's barely a semblance of law enforcement to be found. Most officers scattered like rats when those invaders bombed our police force to smithereens.
I let out an exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of the paltry $9 million allocated to my Ministry. What good is it supposed to do when chaos still reigns supreme in our streets? The Mal kid's flowery speeches might massage The Governor's ego, but they don't fool me. I'll have to set him straight and demand a more realistic budget to restore some semblance of peace and order internally.
I gulped down the last dregs of my drink at the council table, tossing back a few more grapes before making my exit from the room. As I stepped through the imposing double doors, I caught sight of the Governor just turning the corner, flanked by his security detail. With a grunt, I began to lumber after him, my aging body protesting the effort. Twenty years as Chief of Police hadn't done wonders for my physique, that was for damn sure.
By the time I reached the halfway point, I was already wheezing like an old steam engine. I cursed under my breath, realizing just how out of shape I'd become. I paused to catch my breath, leaning against the cool marble wall and trying to ignore the pounding in my chest.
Finally, I rounded the corner to find the Governor on the smoking balcony, puffing away with his security detail hovering nearby. The flick of the Zippo lighter and the smell of tobacco filled the air, but for a fleeting moment, I could hear a woman's scream echoing in my mind.
I pressed a hand to my forehead, feeling the sweat bead on my skin. Damn it, not now, I thought frantically. Why did this memory have to resurface at such an inopportune moment? I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and reached for my handkerchief to dab at my clammy forehead.
The Governor leaned over the balcony taking puffs of his cigarette. "Governor!" I bellowed "I'm here to voice my concerns about the allocation. That woman," I jabbed a finger in the direction of the former Athena Guard, "she's trouble. She has ties to the old regime, and served as the Presidential's personal Death Squad for years before she retired."
"Who's to say she won't turn on us, eh?" I continued, "That damn boy gave her a large sum of that spending to a former Loyalist! She could use it to stage a coup, take over the military, and next thing you know, she's got you by the balls!"
A scowl etched deep on my face. "I won't stand by and watch as this region goes to hell because some damn western educated kid gave the only woman because of his skewed western views the power to bring this region back to hell!"
The Governor's gaze remained impassive as he flicked his cigarette, the smoke swirling lazily around him. "So, you chose to remain silent out of concern for a timid boy?" he queried, his voice carrying a hint of skepticism.
I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of his disapproval. "Look, Governor," I grumbled, "I know how things work around here. Mal may be in office, but he's not cut out for it. He's too soft, too weak. I didn't speak up in the briefing because I didn't want to crush the poor kid's spirit. But mark my words, if we're not careful, that woman will bring us all down."
The Governor nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "I understand your intentions," he conceded, "but we can't afford to overlook potential threats, regardless of who's in office. Next time, speak up. We need to address any issues head-on."
He let out a deep sigh. "I'll discuss the allocation with Mal myself this time. But moving forward, I expect you to provide him with more guidance and support as he is now your responsibility."
I nodded, acknowledging his words with a curt nod. "Understood, Governor. It won't happen again."
"Anything else you want to discuss?" the Governor inquired, his tone neutral.
I pressed my lips together. "Nothing else for now, Governor. I'll be heading to the ministry to start rebuilding the police force." With a brief nod of acknowledgment, I turned to leave, my heart heavy with the hope that the Governor would heed my warning with this internal threat.
As I stepped out of the Palace, the waiting car greeted me, its door held open by my Chief of Staff. "Back to the Ministry," I instructed as I settled into the backseat.
"How was the meeting, Minister?" the driver inquired, his curiosity evident in his tone. "Don't worry, you'll be paid, and your family will be taken care of," I reassured him, offering a cryptic response that hinted at my concerns without divulging any specifics.
The journey back to the Ministry was brief, a mere few minutes' drive, yet it marked the beginning of my efforts to re-establish policing throughout the region. The lack of information about the surrounding areas of the Capital weighed heavily on my mind. With the war's end, it became imperative to conduct a census to gauge the surviving population and to divide the districts by tribe accordingly.
The car rolled past the mountain alps on the northeast side, their towering presence cast a mysterious aura, a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. No matter how long I had lived in this region, those rugged peaks never failed to evoke a sense of awe and uncertainty.