Table of Contents
COP LIVES MATTER
For the Reader
Chapter One: Game Over
Chapter Two: The Protest
Chapter Three: The Success!
Chapter Four: The Meet
Chapter Five – The Reality
Chapter Six – The Ignorance
Chapter Seven: The Greed
Chapter Eight: The Hypocrite
Chapter Nine: The End
COP LIVES MATTER
By Mackenzie Stark
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
COP LIVES MATTER
Copyright © 2017 DeckersPress
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by DeckersPress
For the Reader
Thank you for downloading and reading American Hypocrites: Cop Lives Matter, where an unfortunate and very possible future could be right around the corner.
The American Hypocrites series delves into real life situations and shows us possible outcomes, however unattractive they may seem. When people are pushed to the limits even the most innocent could turn into criminals and there’s no telling what someone would do when seeking revenge for lost loved ones and lives gone wrong.
You are reading the fourth story in the series. Continue on with The Politician, The Liberal Professor and The Hollywood Celebrity, also available on Amazon. I would love to know what you think!
Hypocrite, Merriam-Webster definition: 1) a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion 2) a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings.
And now, welcome to a world where “Cop Lives Matter”.
Chapter One: Game Over
Recently an Alabama detective was pistol-whipped to within an inch of his life because he says he hesitated to use force lest he be the next headline.
The game wrapped up and it was now time to discuss the winner. Not about who won at poker but what they would do next.
They would discuss topics and issues that are so big, no one is immune. Although one may like to believe it, the fabricated walls of protection built by money, politics and power, are no safeguard.
If you’ve done it, if you’ve been a part of it…you should know… they may be coming for you.
Chapter Two: The Protest
[_Meanwhile, protests and riots against the police were gathering force across the country, all of them steeped in anti-cop vitriol … “What do we want? Dead cops,” chanted participants in a New York anti-cop protest. _]
“Fry’em like bacon!”
“Put the pigs in the ground!”
The protest chants rang loud across Portland and continued throughout the day in one of the biggest anti-cop protests the city had ever seen. The activists appeared unstoppable as their wave of destruction and hits against the police blew through the streets.
The protesters came armed with bats, crowbars, flares, rocks, bricks…you name it. One officer lost teeth after having a heavy piece of metal thrown at him, another suffered broken vertebrae when a brick was thrown down on him and yet another suffered brain injury from more projectiles. For those putting on the madness, the violence proved only to be more motivating as the day went on, but for those on the other side, it was vicious.
This crowd held nothing back, and nothing was off limits. Even if you weren’t a cop, if you weren’t for the cause, you entered at your own risk. Some, like retiree Sandy Huber, had the unfortunate experience of taking in the lesson.
For the most part, she stayed behind the large crowd, watching in amazement as it moved along yelling and wrecking everything in sight until something in particular caught her eye. She walked up slowly to observe an American flag that lay on the sidewalk, on fire. She stopped and stood there and watched a lifetime of respect and courage for her country, be trampled on and burned before her eyes.
Her husband had been a policeman until he was shot and killed one week before retirement. Today, the woman came to the “rally” wearing his officer ring to show her loyalty for her husband, and all the men in blue. She didn’t like the new America that seemed to surround her, full of division and hostility. She wanted her old America, the one she believed in for so long.
Today was a day she didn’t want to miss. It was a chance to stand up for those on the receiving end of so much hatred. She even wore her MAGA hat with the hopes that America could in fact be great again.
The ring, the hat, her allegiance to the flag…it was all too much. There was no room for those who supported cops, or any sort of law and order. Everything she stood for, was everything they were against. Before she knew it, she had three men dressed all in black surrounding her.
“What’s your problem lady?” A man plants his face in front of hers, removing her big round sunglasses. He takes her hat and throws it into the fire with the burning flag. He pulls her by her hair and throws her to the ground.
As firecrackers go off behind her, he leans down and screams in her face, “You are all the same!”
Another one notices the ring on her finger and grabs her hand, “Pig lover!” he yells. He pulls off the ring and throws it into the fire where her hat is. She looks up to him and is about to speak but doesn’t get the chance. The one man starts kicking her, and others follow.
She’s getting it from all sides, and it doesn’t take much before the 70-year-old passes out completely. The fact that this woman is elderly is of little consequence for this group. They are there spread the violence, attack police and any of their supporters, and do what they can to destroy the town. And that’s how it all went down.
As devastating as it all was for Portland, the day couldn’t have been a bigger success for those putting on the madness. Only when the police fought back with tear gas and stun grenades did the crowd finally start to die down. For those instigating the problems all that meant was that their workday was coming to an end, and it was time to get paid.
Chapter Three: The Success!
Many police officers are resigning, seeking other professions,” he said. “Why do we continue do our job when we have thankless individuals out here who don’t respect us, who are very defiant, very disobedient, determined to do what they want to do.
– Maryland Sheriff Mike Lewis
“That was amazing! Did you see that Pig go down?” exclaims Devon, one of the protest’s main players.
“Sure did!” Mason tells his friend, “We are unstoppable. I love this shit man!” Running on pure adrenaline, the two young men can barely contain themselves. “When do we get paid?”
“Let’s find out,” Devon breaks out his cell phone as they walk and calls their contact, David. He’s the guy who pays them after a job. “Hey boss…you know it…we are about to head out…Right…” he stops and holds the phone away from his ear so that Mason can also hear.
[_“You know the drill. When the big man pays me, I’ll pay you!” _]
“Okay, got it,” Devon responds, putting the phone back to his ear as David ends the call. Devon puts his phone back in his pocket and turns to Mason, “Now we just wait for the money, and it’s time to go!”
The two young men take one last look back on the destructive path they will leave behind. They never leave together in order to avoid being caught together. If one gets picked up, the other knows what to do. They nod in agreement and then take off in different directions.
David Bryson hangs up the phone and takes a sip of his scotch, curling his toes in the carpet, “Success!” he calls out even though no one is there to hear him. He sits down and opens his laptop, and flips on the TV to catch the latest.
He listens to the anchor and her updates:
“Several cops were injured in the violence. We currently have no updates on their conditions; however, no police deaths have been reported thus far.
“The extensive damage to the city is deemed the most destructive this year as protesters and activists took their stance against law enforcement.”
David settles in and starts to put together his close-out email, like he does after every one of the events he manages. The email is to the big man, the big money man that is. He’s the one in charge, providing the funds and helping to manage the resources that make events like today possible.
He’s a billionaire with a resume that includes things like Financier, Investor, Economist, and Philanthropist. His wealth, visibility, and business dealings attract a lot of attention, and so he keeps a healthy distance from things like today. He uses crews on the ground to do the dirty work while he stays far away and under the radar. He’s the guy that has the money, and will spend the money, to keep their presence known and keep the movement going forward.
Some people question why the big man is so active in working against the very country that gave him his wealth and support, but not David. To him, it’s all good because along with his street soldiers, the paycheck at the end of the day makes up for any misplaced values. Today, they had 73 of their guys out there and things only seem to be getting better. More and more young people are coming out of the woodwork wanting to participate and that means the events can keep going, and the money will keep rolling in.
David gets his email sent and feels good. He’s about to down the rest of his scotch when he notices the time and realizes he needs to get moving. Although David moonlights as an “event manager” his real job is an independent news analyst and he has an interview in an hour. He’s due to meet CNN to share information on any latest developments with regards to the anti-cop movement, and to give an update on today’s affairs.
“Ah, I love the counterfeit news network!” he laughs, pushing his scotch to the side and grabbing his wristwatch instead, “These guys will eat up anything for a good story, this will be fun!”
Just by looking at David, one would never know how conniving and soul-less the man really is. He’s got the perfect east coast prim and proper look. He’s slim and good looking, with the hair of a Kennedy and a smile that will catch your eye. Behind it all though he’s just another greedy guy trying to take as much as he can get. He loves the interviews because it gets him screen time where he can show off his knowledge and of course, he gets paid for it!
He is staying downtown at the Paramount Hotel and doesn’t have far to go. When he’s all cleaned up and put together, he packs up his briefcase and heads down to the garage where his ride should be waiting for him.
Sure enough, there is a black sedan and a man standing by the the car holding the passenger door open. The two acknowledge each other and David gets in, pumped and ready to get going. But that’s not what happens.
The minute he’s in, and his door is shut, the driver leaves and is replaced by someone dressed all in black. The doors are locked, and not even another second goes by before David is knocked in the head from behind, and knocked out.
Chapter Four: The Meet
With the number of applicants down more than 90 percent in some cities, police departments may soon be posting more signs that say “Help Wanted” instead of “Most Wanted.”
David starts to come to and realizes that he has a person on either side of him and is being dragged by the shoulders. He tries to catch his footing, but his headache is ringing loud and he’s still pretty out of it. To top it off, his head is covered and he can’t see a thing.
He’s thrown into a chair, “Who’s there?” David calls out.
“What do you know, he’s awake! Well, welcome back Amigo,” The voice is unfamiliar and David is surprised it’s female, and Hispanic. He hears the woman walk from one side of him to the other, and then he can feel that his legs are being tied together at the ankles.
[_Did she just call me Amigo? _]The term, and the woman, catch David off guard.
“What is this? What am I doing here?” he wants to know.
“You are here because you seem to have a small problem with this great country that you live in!”
His shirt is ripped off, and then he’s then quickly hoisted to his feet. His arms are pulled out to the sides and he feels his watch being taken off his wrist. It’s replaced with some sort of leather cuff. His other arm is secured at the same time. The two strangers adjust a few things, and David’s arms are soon stretched out to the sides even further.
He feels the tie around his neck loosen, and then the woman removes the cover. He takes a large gulp of air before really noticing what’s around.
He’s in a room, in what looks like a basement somewhere. There are pipes overhead, and he can hear what sounds like steam in the background. It’s dark for the most part, aside from the bright light that hangs above him, his briefcase and phone on the floor a small distance in front of him. He also sees his phone has been smashed.
“What the hell? Get me out of this!” he screams, attempting to shake himself free. The wrist cuffs and tight chains that are holding up his arms don’t allow for much movement though, much less an escape. He gets nowhere and only ends up struggling himself right out of breath.
Checking out his two attackers, he sees they are both dressed all in black. The woman has her dark hair in a long pony tail, and he can see the other one is a man who is quite large. Their faces are hidden behind dark bandana’s decorated like the American flag and they have camouflage paint around their eyes. They are standing directly in front of him.
“Who are you and what do you want?” David is beyond confused.
“Well now,” the man starts out in a sarcastic tone, “I’m Mickey, and this here is my wife, Mallory!” David hears the man giggle under his breath. He can tell by the man’s accent that he is also Hispanic, which only confuses David more.
He looks from one black bandit to the other, “I…don’t even know you! I…” He is about to continue but is interrupted.
“Shut. Up!” Mallory screams, slapping him across the face.
But David doesn’t shut up, “I’m supposed to be interviewing on CNN,” he tells them, “don’t you think I’ll be missed? They are going to be all over this!” His thoughts are running wild, but he reassures himself that he is David Bryson after all and of course people would come! Wouldn’t they?
Mallory shakes her head back and forth, “What, the fake news? They’ll take anything. And anyway, we took care of it and no, they will not miss you.” She then grabs a knife out of her back pocket.
David doesn’t know what they think they know, but then again, he doesn’t like the answer. He also doesn’t like Mallory walking up to him and popping open her knife, which happens to be a switchblade.
She runs her nails through his hairline, “You know, it’s a shame…you are even prettier in person. Such a waste.” She pulls on the hair hanging down his forehead and swipes the knife close to his scalp, cutting off his signature curls, “Too bad you really are so ugly! Now this…this is much more fitting.”
Mallory’s cuts were rough, and there are little droplets of blood trickling their way down David’s face. He is shaking his head in disbelief, “I just don’t understand, what can I do? What do you want?”
Mallory wipes her knife on her pants, closes it up and puts it back in her pocket. “You pretend to be a news analyst…what a crock!” she yells harshly, “We hear what you say on TV but we know what you do! You talk to your viewers pretending to be amazed and appalled by what’s happening out there, then play hero to your street soldiers!”
She grabs his cheeks and squeezes hard, and much to David’s surprise her grip is quite firm. His face aches, and he feels tears starting to fill his eyes. “You with your pretty little face, you are nothing but a hypocrite!” She releases her grip, “Welcome to the real world!”
Chapter Five – The Reality
The New York Daily News:
[_President Obama, who placed a call to Mayor Rawlings, called the killings a “vicious, calculated and despicable attack on law enforcement.” _]
David tries one more time to get out of whatever this is, hoping money will do the trick. He is a firm believer that anyone can be bought, “I just don’t understand! Is there something you want? I can get you money if…”
He doesn’t even get the full offer out before Mickey shouts, “Don’t try to throw your dirty money at us!”
And then, WACK!
Mickey now has a baseball bat which he slammed right into David’s gut. David’s lets out a wail and the color drains from his face. His body wants to fold, but with how he’s tied, he doesn’t get far.
Mallory puts her hand to his mouth to silence him and then reaches down, grabbing him in the crotch, “We don’t need money you idiot! But you need to listen up,” she tightens her hold on him, and he winces as she talks, “WE are in charge!” She clinches him hard one more time before taking her hand back.
David lets out a gasp. The pain is intense, and he struggles to talk, “Just please tell me…tell me what this all is!”
Without saying a word, Mallory walks over to their bag and pulls out a folder. She sets it on a small table that’s off to the side. From the folder she pulls out a picture and holds it up in front of David. The picture is of a protest. David knows it’s the one his group put on in Chicago.
His head is spinning, “What are you doing? Let me out of here!”
“Oh, you belong to us now,” Mickey says, “Don’t fight it. I can assure you, it’s much better that way.”
Chapter Six – The Ignorance
Fox News Insider:
[_“This is something out of another country,” Tucker Carlson said. _]
Not knowing what to do, David reluctantly focuses back on the picture. He sees a group of males wearing gas masks and head coverings running through a larger crowd. “Your guys, your handiwork,” Mallory points out, “it’s amazing how you can take a perfectly good city and annihilate it within a few hours!”
“What’s also amazing,” she continues, “is what I don’t see. You make plans to take down a whole city but you’re nowhere to be found! No,” she pulls out another photo, “here’s where you were during Chicago, staying right at the Trump International!” She looks to David, “Really?”
The next picture is of Dallas, “This one was really out there, even for you Amigo. I have to say, I didn’t expect it. But, easy for you to handle from your room at The Ritz I’d imagine, completely out of touch about what you’ve done.”
Mickey chimes in, “Well let me get you in touch, and I quote, “it was “The deadliest single incident for U.S. law enforcement since September 11, 2001!” Yep, your riots are something else Amigo!”
“Riots? Do you mean the protests?” David funds protests and as far as he’s concerned, what happens after that is not his problem.
“Protests, riots, call them whatever makes you feel better Amigo, but they are all the same,” Mallory tells David, “Your people are nothing but runners of violence and cop hatred, and because of people like you, people are dying!”
“Wait a minute!” David is not a murderer, “I’ve killed no one! Protests are free speech. So I help with those, what’s it to you? You don’t believe in free speech in this country?”
“Ignorance!” Mickey explodes, “Promoting the killing of cops and looting businesses, paying people to burn the flag and light police cars on fire is NOT free speech!”
“Okay I don’t know what’s been done to you,” David feels like he’s scrambling, “maybe you have me confused with someone else.”
Mickey and Mallory are silent and David thinks maybe he’s on to something. He dares to keep going, “But…I know a lot of people and maybe I could help you? We could work together!”
“See, that right there sums up one of the reasons you are here today,” Mickey tells David. He waits for a reaction but doesn’t get it. “What you are doing will have massive impacts on the country yet you are completely detached from any of it. You are dangerous because you are ignorant to the effects of what you create in our streets. And you are ignorant because you don’t care.”
Mickey leans in very close to David, “Well today, Amigo, you will care!”
Chapter Seven: The Greed
[_($400,000 paid to Obama for speech on healthcare) _]
[_Assuming he talks for 45 minutes, that works out to “only” about $36 per word uttered. But with that one health care speech, Obama will make enough to pay the premiums on more than 100 ObamaCare plans for median-income families. _]
“And since we are on the subject of YOU Amigo, let’s just get it all out on the table.” Mickey walks over to their duffle bag and pulls out a black book. He opens it, “Ah, here we go, let’s take a look at what’s been going on!”
He flips in a few pages and runs his finger down some lines, “Here we have $150,000 in donations! Wow, that’s a good one!” He lifts his head to look at David and then looks back to the book, “$85,000, $120,000…the money just keeps rolling in for you guys!”
He flips another page, “And here’s something interesting…look at this…you paid this guy $5,000 a month for his participation!” Mickey keeps going, “$3,000, $2,500, and then this guy Devon, he must be real special cause he got $6,000!” He taps his finger on the specific line he’s talking about.
“Where did you get that?” David is getting hysterical, “Give me that! You have no right!”
“What? This information? Easy to get!” Mickey goes deeper into the black book, “Let’s see, you said you live in New York, this is true, but you also have a home in Miami, Santa Barbara and oh, yes, a small ranch in Texas! Boy, I’d like to see that one!” He turns to Mallory and they both start laughing.
Mickey flips a few more pages, “And then you play news analyst! That’s great. You reported on the protests you supported! These facts here,” he taps in the book some more, “did you know that you were on CNN 22 times last month alone? You’re incredible!”
“I report on what’s going on!” David speaks up for himself, but immediately regrets it. Mickey throws the book down and grabs his bat.
“All you care about is the money!” Mickey yells before, WACK!
He hits David again with his bat, this time at the kneecaps. David’s knees buckle but that only pulls on his arms. He groans and does his best to stand up straight. He also feels the tears he’s been holding back start to run down his cheeks. His legs are killing him and he’s struggling to stand, “Please, just let me go. We can work something out! I know a lot of people!”
“Stop!” Mickey yells, “You won’t be paying or talking your way out of this one, and there will be no more lies and excuses!” His voice gets low and firm, “I was ‘Juarez’, Amigo. You don’t want to mess with me.”
David goes still and quiet. He knows all about Juarez, a serious and well-known drug cartel out of Mexico. There is a lot of money in what they do, money he knows he has benefited from, even if it was from a distance. He also knows how dangerous they are and realizes now that this man before him is not someone to mess with.
Mickey stares into David’s eyes. “Greed is the second reason you are here. It has killed any purpose you might have had at one point, and now you work without any morals or guilt, and you have hurt one too many!”
Chapter Eight: The Hypocrite
[_Of the 64 shooting deaths of officers this year (2016), 21 were the result of ambush-style attacks—the highest total in more than two decades. _]
David realizing that this man was part of Juarez and that they seem to have all of his information, makes any thought of him getting the upper hand seem impossible. Not to mention the fact that he is in pain, cut off from the world, and now really scared.
Mallory has come back with more photos. “I have only four more photos for you.”
The first one she holds up is of two young boys, and they are smiling. The younger one is on a bike and just like David’s own childhood in the summers, they look happy and carefree.
“This was our new beginning,” Mallory explains, “Jose was 12 and Luis was 7. America was so beautiful. We had never seen anything like it! We landed in Texas and could’ve stayed there, or even went to California like so many others, but we wanted to be in. We wanted to be away from the crowds and groups, and live a simple life.”
The next picture is of a farm. The picture shows the house, the barn, and the fields in the background. David is drawn to the bright orange sunset. He starts thinking about his own ranch in Texas and how he’d give anything to be there right now instead of where he is.
“We’ve had the same farm in Oklahoma for ten years now,” Mallory turns to David, “Over that time, my husband and I built a home and my boys were becoming men. They worked on the farm, they made friends; they learned the language! They grew up to be Americans, just like you.”
David looks back at her. A sense of nostalgia comes over him and is causing him to miss his own family. He’s surprised by it. He feels a lump forming in his throat and starts to blink to keep himself from crying.
“The best part of it all was they felt free…and safe,” Mickey starts up. “Of course there is crime wherever you go, but this is not a country[_ run _]by crime. Not that you care since that exactly what you seem to be working to create!”
David looks to him questioningly. Mickey doesn’t bother explaining and instead is looking for some answers, “You know anything about security Amigo? I mean, you ever need some security or God forbid a cop?”
“Well, I-I…I mean, of course!” David has a bad feeling about where this is going.
“Wow! The truth for once!” Mickey looks up like he’s thinking, “Let’s see…you had that time in Saint Paul when you were attacked leaving the Italian place, and you had your security right there to help you! Then there was that other time in Baton Rouge when your car was attacked, but thank goodness you had your “guys” and who? Oh yea, you also had the police to help keep people back and get you out of there!”
Mickey is just walking back and forth, almost like he’s reminiscing and enjoying himself, all the while swinging his bat, “But a favorite of ours, and of many I have to say, is the security at your residences! You’ve got doormen, secured gates, and even a wall! And I’ll bet you anything you even have those cool alarms too, that will call the police right then and there should even the smallest thing go wrong.”
David is just staring at him, but Mickey wants his answers and is out of patience. He holds the bat up vertical and hits the end of it down hard on David’s foot. David falls in the chains once again. Between the yank on his shoulders wrists and the excruciating pain in his crushed foot, David starts to feel dizzy.
He does his best to stand on his good foot and try to be ready for what is coming next. He finds it is another photo, this time of a cop. The officer is young and after a moment David can see it is their oldest son.
“Do you know him?” Mallory asks.
David nods, “It…it’s your son.”
“What is his name?”
“I…I…Jose?” David isn’t sure.
“Say it again” Mallory pushes him, “his name is Jose!”
“His n…name…is Jose.” David feels like he’s going to throw up. He can see that Mallory is getting more pumped up and notices Mickey off to the side with his bat. He just lit a cigarette.
“Jose,” Mallory enunciates his name, “grew up and wanted to give back to the country that gave him a chance and protected him along the way. He became an officer. Can you see that Amigo? An officer of the law!” Mallory waits for only a second, “Answer me!”
“I-I do see…I can see he is a cop…” David doesn’t know what else to say. He’s looking at the photo. The man can’t be more than 21 or 22 years old. He is young. He is fit and decked out in his uniform.
“But you call him a PIG! “What do we want? Dead cops!” Remember that one Amigo?” Mallory yells out, “You guys seem to love that one!”
Mickey steps in closer, blowing smoke in David’s face. David starts coughing, “You want dead cops now?” Mickey asks.
“I don’t…I don’t know what you mean?” David tries to engage, knowing it must have something to do with himself, even if he doesn’t know what.
“You are not true to your word Amigo,” Mickey clarifies as he slowly puffs one more long drag before putting his light out on David’s shoulder. David throws his head back, grimacing from the pain. The only sound is the sizzling of his skin as Mickey grinds the cigarette into his flesh.
“And so,” Mickey continues, “there is the third reason you are here. Above all else, you are a hypocrite. Your life feels good because YOU feel protected, and you reap the benefits this society allows you while protesting against your own country. You are sabotaging the future of our children! But I have one more son left Amigo, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you ruin his life like you did Jose’s!”
David is in shock. His skin is burning, he can feel the tight wrist holds on his arms and as he stares down at his bound ankles and broken foot with tears in his eyes. His whole body aches, and he doesn’t think he can take much more.
Chapter Nine: The End
Law enforcement: It’s a tough job but somebody’s got to do it. But what happens when no one wants to be that somebody?
“We left a place run by drug lords, violence and gangs.” Mallory goes on to explain, “We had the big dream for a new life, a good life, here in America. We wanted our boys to have that chance!
But because of you, we got THIS!” She holds up one more picture. It’s blown up larger than the others, and the colors are more vivid. It’s of an officer’s funeral. David’s eyes are watering but he strains to focus, out of fear he will get beaten again.
The picture looks to be early morning from what David can tell. There are cops in cruisers with lights on, some on motorcycles and even some on horseback. There are also six officers carrying a coffin.
David brings himself to ask, “Is that?”
“That is my SON!” Mallory snaps.
“No! Look, I was wrong about what I’ve said! Please believe me!” David is frantic and slurring his words, “I am so sorry for your son!”
“Best part is,” Mickey says, still hovering over David, “that’s YOU! That’s your handiwork once again Amigo!”
“No! I don’t know you! I don’t want to hurt your family!” David is shaking, “I did not know your son!”
Mickey stands back up straight and is now yelling, “My son was killed in the line of duty because he was brave! But he was alone in an ambush by people you brainwashed to hate cops. They did not even know him!”
Mickey then plants himself directly in front of David. He’s breathing deep and heavy, and then he speaks, “Did you know that El Chapo was worth $14 billion when he was arrested? That is from the same greed and dirty money that runs you Amigo.
El Chapo ran free in a country run by fear, and where money and power come from drugs and cartels; where cops are not cops, and law and order does not exist. With people like you leading the way, we are not far behind them.
You are taking our cops. You with your protests and death wishes. Who wants to be something that is hated so much, and hunted? We will be left with nothing but under qualified deviants no better at protecting us than they can protect themselves! But I did not leave Mexico to end up in a country where the cops are crooked, deal drugs and can be bribed.
And then you take our children. They are our future but to you they are a tool that will help destroy America. You use them, you preach to them, you teach them to go against all they have been brought up to be. What they believe to be reality doesn’t even exist!”
“And you, you think you are on top,” Mickey leans in even closer, “when in all reality you too have been “taken”. You are just too far gone to know it. You have also been brainwashed and are under the spell of those wanting more.”
Mickey makes a fist and pounds it into the air, “Open borders! Fight! Resist! You are a fool to think Globalism could be your win in the end.” He stops and takes a deep breath, and then continues, “Well it’s not your win and it’s certainly not the end. You are the first of many to go down. The billionaire puppet master you hold so high? Make no mistake, we WILL get him as well before this is all said and done.”
David is frozen. He just looks to them with tears running down his face.
“Your movement is coming to an end Amigo,” Mallory says in a low and firm voice, “There is a new movement in town and it is much bigger than you could even imagine.”
“And we’re not the only ones,” she adds, “you think your little riot runners are on your side? They are just as big of hypocrites as you are! They are out for themselves.” Mallory waves her finger in front of him as if scolding him for his actions, “And you haven’t been so nice to them lately, have you? We know all about it. You should’ve paid them like you promised. They are leaving your pathetic movement, one by one!”
Mickey throws his bat down and starts to rub his hands together, “So Amigo, just like our Jose, you are in an ambush…and it’s time.”
Mallory goes to their bag and digs out another black bundle.
David can feel the clock ticking, “Wait, no!” he cries out.
Out of her black bundle, Mallory produces a gun. David sees the gun has been altered. The end is fat, and he knows it’s a suppressor. She walks up to David and holds it to the side of his head.
“Please! I’m begging you!” he pleads.
“My Mallory here doesn’t mess around either Amigo,” Mickey says, “She is going to shoot you with a hollow point bullet. Do you know what that is? It will explode in your head, messing up that pretty little face of yours. But don’t worry, when it blows up that pathetic facade of an identity you’ve created for yourself, you won’t feel a thing.”
Mickey takes a few steps back, “THIS is how it feels when you are attacked. THIS is how it feels when there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Fear is zipping through David like little sparks of electricity. He blinks through his tears, cringing at the feeling of the cold end of the gun on his temple. He squeezes his eyes shut, and swallows.
It was a maintenance man that found David and called it in the next morning. The police arrived first, and the detectives followed. The scene was unlike any other.
The dapper pretty boy who was a hidden street hero, all the while playing a know-it-all on television, now hung there for all to see; beaten, shot, and almost unrecognizable.
With how violent his death appeared, they were amazed to find the scene squeeky clean and bare of any real evidence that anyone had been there. It was as if David Bryson did this all to himself.
What they did find was a single poker chip left on the ground at David’s feet, and a message written out in chalk on the cement floor:
HYPOCRISY IS THE HOMAGE THAT VICE PAYS TO VIRTUE
Thank you, most sincerely, for reading the fourth story in the American Hypocrites series, exploring real life feelings, frustrations, situtations and outcomes.
Please consider leaving a review at your eBook store of choice, as I would love to hear your feedback!
You can find out more by reading more in the series, also on Amazon:
Book 1 – American Hypocrites: THE LIBERAL POLITICIAN
Book 2 – American Hypocrites: THE LIBERAL PROFESSOR
Book 3 – American Hypocrites: THE CELEBRITY
While our kids are getting brainwashed to create chaos and fight for a world they don't even live in, and all police, law, and order are shoved to the side, the great AMERICAN HYPOCRITE walks away with more money and notoriety, and the big dream of Globalism takes over the political scene regardless of small town ideas or big country problems. And then, after all the money changes hands and the big cities have all been taken down, there will be nothing left and no one to protect us. Why would anyone want to be a cop when they are protested, hunted and killed? Imagine a world where 'the force' is filled only with unqualified and unfit applicants who are subject to bribes, manipulation and drug running. There will be no more real police, and certainly no more real protection. And then, with Mexico as our neighbor, we could open all borders and become one, for we will be the same. "From the nation’s largest police force in New York City to tiny departments with only five officers, far fewer people are looking to join the force than in years past, and departments of all sizes are being forced to rethink how they fill their ranks." - ABC News