Crimzon5
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Comments: http://forums2.battleon.com/f/tm.asp?m=14103588
Two hundred men hid behind him, in their houses and behind trash cans, watching him and waiting for him to give the order to strike. The leader, known only as 56, a code name he had assigned to himself, stood up straight, observing the Municipality of Midsayap, Cotabato. He was an unmasked man. He knew that he would draw attention if he wore one, and as long he didn’t do anything violent, he wouldn’t have the need to hide his identity.
Staring at the blank space, with the municipality in his peripheral vision, he remembered his motives for terrorizing the area. Ever since he was a boy, his family had suffered from homelessness, hunger, and sometimes, unemployment. All the news reports that he had read in the papers and heard in the radio were lies. He had believed that it was the government’s obligation to provide for their needs. That was what he had understood from it. Yet, he was wrong. One should always use himself as a first resort and others as second. He didn’t know this, and never had the chance to until now. Even though he’d see this father come home from work, he had thought that work was a selfless act. He had no knowledge of salary, only payment. He thought of payment as if it were like allowance. If it were, then his family, his parents and siblings now dead, would’ve been the youngest child.
Staring at an armed security guard, positioned at the gates of a school, he remembered what his lesson was before he was told to drop out of school and help with parents’ work. “‘Thou shall not kill’, ‘Thou shall not steal’, ‘Thou shall not covet,’” he murmured, “justice is what the weak use as an excuse to protect themselves.” After a short pause, he continued, “Even I used it as one. Yet, I learned by the hard way that I was wrong. Yes, even I don’t want my loved ones to be killed, my house to be robbed, and one to hold a knife behind my back. But, can we really stop ourselves from doing the same?” Looking back at his men, he announced at a level of tone that only his men could here, “Get ready to strike soon. There are only a few guards; we outnumber them. Besides, the government won’t do anything; they never do!”
The minute hand on his watch ticked to 12. “Now!” he shouted. Drawing a gun from his pocket, he fired a bullet, aimed at the only guard in the area. His men stood up, emerged from the doors behind 56, armed and ready to shoot. 56 led the way, charging towards the school.
There were some that had questioned him about his choice of targets. With a grin on his face, he would reply, “Children. The people think of them as the future and give them high importance. Perfect hostages, don’t you think?” His answer had caused others to follow him and see him with a superior mind. But any educated person would furthermore question him. But, it was the people’s hunger and anger that tempted them to follow him.
The commotion had caused the passing civilians to take cover. The screaming, the running, the shooting… there was chaos. “Stick to the plan,” 56 shouted. “Tell them to stay still and shoot those who don’t cooperate.” Though some just wanted to kill, there were civilians who sat down on their spot and were spared.
There was a small military group but, there wasn’t many. They were in a great disadvantage; the enemy had hostages, a lot of them, and could even kill a few hundred or two. “Poor defenses… The president only keeps the quality soldiers in front of his gates of Malacañang.” Biting off the cover of a grenade, which he was about to throw, he grinned at the chaos that he had already caused. After sending out a bitter laugh, he tossed the grenade, sending enemies flying away.
All was according to his plan. At the third hour of the afternoon, several civilians squatted on the roads. The corpses and pools of blood were left unclean. Out of his two hundred men, only fifty had died. “It stinks here!” complained a young boy. His uniform was wet with blood which was spilled when a police officer beside him was shot. One of 56’s men pointed a gun at him. Tears then started to fall from his eyes. Taking a deep breathe, the boy gave out a loud pitiful cry. Bang!
“Sir, the radar we’ve stolen is saying that the army is sending over a hundred ships to this island.”
“What? Why is the government only willing to help when it’s already too late for some?” 56 thought for a while. “Hmm… position mortars by the shore. And only fire at my command.”
“Yes, Sir!”
Glancing upon his prisoners, he grinned. He could still use them to shield himself from any bombs that the army could’ve planned to use. Everything was in his favor. It was, until he saw the corpse of his wife. He suspected her to have died in the crossfire. His terrorist organization was so secret that not even his wife knew about it. Because of that, he had forgotten to warn his family about the attack. “Sir, the enemy is approaching. We are waiting for your orders, Sir,” a man shouted.
Grieving over his loss, he took a gun and aimed at himself. The commotion and complaining had masked the sound of his bullet. 56 now lied dead on the floor. His army had no knowledge of this and dared not to fire a single shot at the enemy, until he had told them to do so. His army waited patiently, not knowing the fate they were about to face. The empty-hearted motives of their leader had ceased to exist.
< Message edited by Crimzon5 -- 8/13/2008 7:34:18 >
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