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Rated: E · Short Story · Political · #1808489
One man chooses between dictatorship and the Republic.
         The riot line tightened as did Garrett's grip on his shield. Through the ballistic visor of his helmet he looked down the line at his fellow officers. Jaws were clenched, brows furrowed; every man was set to his purpose and every man knew his job. But...in a few faces Garrett saw a flicker of doubt. In a few, dread. Ahead was an angry, rioting mob of nearly 500 people. Out of work and hungry people. The recession, despite sugar-coated press releases and outright lies of the Fed, had developed into an honest-to-God depression. Already reeling from massive debt, farmers had been unable to take out loans in order to replant. Food shortages were rampant. Crime had sky-rocketed. Which is where Garrett came in. After spending two tours in Libya, Garrett came home to Cleveland to get a job with the PD. They were hurting for recruits, ever since the massive paycuts and decimation of the pension plans, so a combat vet like Garrett was a shoe-in. Garrett flinched as a beer bottle crashed against his shield. "Forward, MARCH!" the riot line Lieutenant shouted. The line moved forward as one, batons clanging on shields. A US Army helicopter equipped with a Long Range Accoustic Device circled overhead, ordering the crowd to disperse. Garrett frowned as he marched forward. The National Guard was one thing, but US Army regulars conducting law enforcement on US soil seemed like Caesar crossing the Rubicon. The White House assured everyone that the Army's role would be temporary and limited. But the White House also assured everyone that elections would be held just as soon as the crisis was over. It had been eight years since the President declared a national emergency and temporarily suspended elections under an executive order. "Against all enemies, foreign and domestic" the officer beside Garrett muttered. "What?" he asked. "We're protecting against domestic enemies." the other officer said. Garrett looked at the domestic enemies. They weren't crazy gun-nuts hiding in a bunker like Homeland Security made them out to be. They were normal. They were fed up. The gun confiscations, the gold confiscations, the curfews, the rationing. The Republic was falling before his eyes, and his oath to uphold and defend the Constitution meant nothing if he went along with rounding up what had been peaceful protestors until the riot line arrived. Garrett dropped his shield and unsnapped his helmet. "Me too." he muttered as he ran towards the protestors.



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