Chapter 27: The Objector
Roger Steinham stood in front of a whiteboard with the twelve remaining members of his terrorist organisation looking on. He was briefing his subordinates in relation to an upcoming attack on another army unit almost a hundred miles away. Steinham always relied on inside information for his attacks and was confident in their reliability.
Ten minutes into the briefing Jorge Shavez decided to put his hand in the air. He was disillusioned with the long term objectives of the terrorist group and thought he had nothing to lose by venting his frustration. He convinced himself that there was a possibility that the terrorist leader might be open to constructive criticism.
Roger Steinham gave a nod in Jorge’s direction.
“Captain,” he said aloud, “shouldn’t we be attacking Reapers or government forces who clamp down on innocent civilians in the name of changeling cleansing. Every time we clamp down on innocent soldiers, guys we used to fight along side we are putting a nail in our own coffin. It is making us more and more unpopular. If we attacked the Reapers or similar units, that might be something that the general public might be able to support.”
As Jorge spoke, he could see that his superior officer was not impressed. He had a look of disdain on his face throughout Jorge’s contribution.
“Any American soldier who puts on a uniform swears allegiance to a government that has failed us. They are not innocent. They support the government and we must be a thorn in their side,” the Captain declared angrily. “Do you have a problem with that Shavez?”
Jorge, felt as though he was being challenged. It was as if Steinham was the undisputed heavyweight boxer challenging a down and out featherweight. It was to say the least, intimidating. Jorge took a deep breath before responding. He wanted to gauge his level of support amongst his fellow terrorists. In those few seconds, he believed that either his colleagues were fully supportive of their leader or afraid to speak up. The disgruntled subordinate believed that his comrades were more upset at the quality of the food in the canteen than the ideology of their group.
“I was just putting it out there Captain,” he responded.
“Do we have a problem Shavez?” the terrorist leader asked in a menacing manner.
Jorge wondered if he was about to become a target for the former CIA operative. He wondered if from now on he would be constantly watching his back.
“No Captain, there is no problem.”
“From now on Shavez, you’ll be right out front where we can all see you. We don’t tolerate soft men in this unit, only real men, men who are not afraid of punching their way through a brick wall. We need to be sure that you are in line with us Shavez and not a weak link in the chain.”
Jorge knew now that he would forever be seen as the weak link in the group. He anticipated being an outcast among his colleagues and consistently being put in the line of fire. He wondered how the leader would react but now he realised he had made a grave mistake.
Jorge had seen how weak links in the chain had been treated before. One particular member was viewed as a coward and was bullied by some of the other members. Sometimes the outspoken subordinate didn’t see much difference between life in this organisation or life as a long time convict in a Federal prison. The member who was viewed as a coward was found hanging from an overhead fan six weeks earlier.
“I am not soft Captain and I stand beside all of you.”
“I should hope so,” the Captain said while continuing to make firm eye contact with Shavez.
Later that night Jorge Shavez woke up in the middle of the night. It wasn’t something that he had planned. He looked at his wrist-watch. It read 2:42 am. It seemed as though everyone else in his room was asleep. Jorge slept in a room of two separate bunkbeds. The terrorist subordinate always occupied the top bed, because the colleague who slept underneath was afraid of heights.
The idea entered Jorge’s mind to leave the terrorist camp. Part of him didn’t want to. He was afraid of the consequences if he failed. For the most part, however Jorge believed that his life would be a living hell if he didn’t leave anyway. Slowly, however he lifted up the bed sheets and started to climb down the creaky ladder of the bunk bed to the floor. As quietly as he could, he tried to put on his clothes in the dark. Because of the discipline and order Steinham instilled in the group, Jorge always knew exactly where his clothes were.
Eventually, Shavez made his way out into the corridor. There was only one way out of the building that Jorge was aware of. He walked several yards down the corridor and entered the kitchen. It was then that Shavez froze. The kitchen was dark for the most part. The only light was from the clock of the microwave, but the terrorist member could make out the shape of a man sitting at the kitchen table. It had to be Steinham.
“Turn on the light,” the Captain ordered.
At this point, Jorge knew that no matter what happened he was a dead man walking.
When he turned on the light Shavez could see Steinham fully dressed in military uniform with a revolver on the table in front of him. Jorge surveyed the rest of the room, to see if there was anything he could use as a weapon. He believed that if there was a fist fight the Captain would win. All the pots and pans were hanging behind where the terrorist leader sat. There was no gun or similar weapon in his vicinity.
“I’ve been waiting for you Shavez,” the terrorist leader declared. “I’ve known that you were soft since the day I met you. I hoped that I’d be wrong. It turns out that you’re a sissy and I don’t like sissies Shavez. Nobody leaves this base without permission. It seems that I have a choice. Some leaders might let you go back to bed and remain a member of the group and hope that you don’t stab the rest of us in the back. I am not like that. I don’t tolerate insubordination. The only alternative that I can see is execution. If you allow a cancer to grow, it will only spread and then we may as well shoot ourselves in the foot. Instead, you have to cut the cancer out at all costs even if it goes right to the bone. Isn’t that right Shavez.”
Jorge didn’t respond. With each passing second his blood seemed to be running colder and colder.
The Captain stood up, leaving the gun on the table.
“I’m not soft Shavez but I’m going to give you one more chance to prove that you’re not a sissy. I am now unarmed. Get by me and you are home free.”
Jorge looked at his leader up and down. Was he giving him a real shot at survival he wondered? Surely there was a catch.
“Go ahead Shavez. Are you a sissy or a man?” Captain Steinham said in a loud and clear voice as if he was about to also beat his chest in defiance.
Again Jorge looked at the Captain. He examined his eyes and his hands for the slightest sign of movement. He wondered if it was a trick. The subordinate also wondered how skilled the terrorist leader was. The escapee had never seen Steinham in hand to hand combat but he knew of his reputation.
Jorge had no alternative. He punched the Captain in the face as quickly and with as much force as he could muster. Steinham was dazed temporarily. Jorge reached for a pan and belted his leader over the head.
He looked at the gun on the kitchen table. He considered using it to shoot Steinham but he felt that that would be a cowardly act. Instead Jorge ran as fast as he could out of the kitchen and out of the building. As he ran, he cursed himself for not taking the gun with him. He scaled a fence and ran through a field as fast as he could. Jorge was in good physical condition but on this occasion he was pushing himself to his limits. A ditch was in sight. If he could make it there he had a good chance of survival, he thought to himself.
The escapee didn’t think of what he would do if he survived. He just wanted to make his way to freedom. After that he could think of what to do next.
Jorge Shavez was a hundred yards from the terrorist building when a bullet ripped through his back, and he fell to the ground. The escapee was in great pain and could hardly breathe as the bullet had pierced his lung. Jorge did not have the energy or the heart to climb to his feet and keep running. His death was inevitable now and nothing could prevent it.
Captain Steinham walked slowly towards the subordinate’s body and stood over it. The younger terrorist had rolled over onto his back, looking up at the moon and the stars. He was spitting some blood out of his mouth. “You should have killed me when you had the chance, you weak, soft little boy,” the terrorist leader said in disgust. Jorge was in no position to speak. Steinham waited for a reaction but when none was forthcoming he shot the younger man in the forehead and walked away.
After returning to the base, Steinham instructed the two youngest of his subordinates, Estevez and Kamino to bury the body. They didn’t ask any questions and Steinham believed that it would send a message out to the rest of his men that he was a leader who was not to be trifled with.