Anthony Darey(3)Streets of Babylon (Novel excerpt—crime thriller; futuristic)
July 11th 2007 21:54
The Premier leant forward and levelled Jones a wry look. “What are you saying, spontaneous combustion…Or what, this joker has some sort of divine power?”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort, mate. Like I said, unreliable.”
Stanton stared at his Commissioner for a long moment. “Ok then, keep on it, we need to catch this guy, the media is having a field day. Now…to even more disturbing events: when are we going to get these mongrels blowing up the place. Have you had any leads?”
Jones shifted in discomfort. Progress had been agonisingly slow; the damn gangs ‘code of silence’. Not helping matters, the last informant was found hanging from a telegraph pole at Penrith, skin flayed from his dead body. “We need to get someone inside,” he said. “These bastards may want to kill each other, but do you think one side’ll give up the other!”
Stanton rose suddenly, pacing to the window—just talking about these drug gangs made him edgy. Ok, they were technically ‘criminal gangs’; he’d been corrected in Chamber last week. As Minister for Police and Finance, Stanton had been fully briefed on the current situation, which in short is just shy of martial law. Some of these criminals had been around for a long time, like the re-invented crime syndicates and bikers. Others were of the new racegang variety, the Lebs, Mara Boys, and Coories to name a few. There was a real gang-culture developing out there on the streets, a lethal mixture of extortion, murder, and drug trafficking. And gaining ascendancy against a dwindling police force who were burying more officers than they could recruit. No, they didn’t need a man on the inside, they needed to meet fire with fire, show these bastards who’s boss. Stanton turned to face his Commissioner. “I want a curfew in the CBD after 10.00pm.”
“What,” Jones coughed-out, surprised.
“A curfew in the CBD after 10.00pm,” Stanton repeated. “Handle it whatever way you see fit, but I want a strong and visible presence. Use those new armoured vehicles with the water cannons and stun weapons.” The Premier then strode back to his desk and sat down with a whoosh of air; face a picture of determination.
“There’ll be protests, John. You know that.” Jones warned. He’d heard there was talk of martial law. Thought that’s it all it would be, just talk, due to the potential for ‘political suicide’ if things went wrong and innocent people got hurt. Obviously, he’d mistaken Premier Stanton’s resolve.
“I was elected on a law and order platform for christ’s sake Sam, a promise to control the violence. And that was before these bastards started to blow up the place! No, the civil rights groups can protest all they want. We need to get on top of these murderous mongrels or the Commonwealth will. And if that happens, you lose control, and I lose all hope of a third term.” ©
Next: Chapter 1 ‘Chosen’
“I’m not saying anything of the sort, mate. Like I said, unreliable.”
Stanton stared at his Commissioner for a long moment. “Ok then, keep on it, we need to catch this guy, the media is having a field day. Now…to even more disturbing events: when are we going to get these mongrels blowing up the place. Have you had any leads?”
Jones shifted in discomfort. Progress had been agonisingly slow; the damn gangs ‘code of silence’. Not helping matters, the last informant was found hanging from a telegraph pole at Penrith, skin flayed from his dead body. “We need to get someone inside,” he said. “These bastards may want to kill each other, but do you think one side’ll give up the other!”
“A curfew in the CBD after 10.00pm,” Stanton repeated. “Handle it whatever way you see fit, but I want a strong and visible presence. Use those new armoured vehicles with the water cannons and stun weapons.” The Premier then strode back to his desk and sat down with a whoosh of air; face a picture of determination.
“There’ll be protests, John. You know that.” Jones warned. He’d heard there was talk of martial law. Thought that’s it all it would be, just talk, due to the potential for ‘political suicide’ if things went wrong and innocent people got hurt. Obviously, he’d mistaken Premier Stanton’s resolve.
“I was elected on a law and order platform for christ’s sake Sam, a promise to control the violence. And that was before these bastards started to blow up the place! No, the civil rights groups can protest all they want. We need to get on top of these murderous mongrels or the Commonwealth will. And if that happens, you lose control, and I lose all hope of a third term.” ©
Next: Chapter 1 ‘Chosen’
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