The First Seal is Broken – part V

An Isolated Incident I, II and III The First Seal is Broken I, II, III, IV

 

Frank shook Conor’s hand and said “thanks, I’m Frank”.

Conor said “well, you look like you could use it”.  He nodded to the TV (and the news), “helluva thing isn’t it?”

Frank concurred “they won’t get away with it”.

Conor gave him an odd look, “what do you think they’re trying to get away with”?

Frank paused. “Killing people, without trials, for a start.”

Conor asked, “is that all they are doing – just killing people, randomly?”

Frank eyed Conor, “not entirely randomly. But killing people doesn’t solve corruption.”

Conor said “no, no it doesn’t. It is quite the disincentive though.”

Frank asked “you think they’re justified?”

Conor considered that for a minute, sipped his whiskey and said “I don’t think it is a matter of justification. Justification is tied to justice, and if there is an absence of justice, then there isn’t much point to discussing justification.”

Frank puzzled, “There’s no absence of justice. We have courts and lawyers, we have laws and trials; that is how you resolve issues, not by shooting people or burning down buildings.”

Conor smiled, “sure, when the system works as it was meant, not when it has been reduced to a cruel façade teetering on a crumbling foundation. Would you really stake your own life on what it is, right this very moment?”

Frank’s face turned to stone, “you seem to sympathize with them.” He didn’t move for his Sig, but he was comforted that it was an easy reach to the holster.

Conor gulped down the last of his drink. “Perhaps I do. Not that I matter much in the grand scheme of things. The question is, what will you do when you face the choice – of going along with what you know is wrong, or standing up for what you can’t deny is right? It’s a hard choice, always, and you can end up dead no matter what you choose. All of the laws and lawyers, and courts and judges can’t tell you… but your conscience will.”

Conor stood up, “you know the history of Michael Collins? He was a leader in the IRA during the Anglo-Irish War – now that was a bloody bit of business. He rode a damn bicycle around Ireland, through all of their checkpoints, and they never knew who he was. He didn’t act like a guerrilla commander out in the open; he even used their own intelligence against them. When he went to negotiate peace, he knew he was sacrificing his own life – eventually, but he did it. And in the end, it wasn’t his enemies that killed him, it was those who he had fought beside against the Brits. Was he justified in what he did? Were they that killed him?”

He dropped a $20 bill on the bar, “you’ve barely touched your drink Frank. Enjoy. Next time we meet, you can buy.” And he strolled to the door.

Frank asked the bartender for a plastic bag, and when he got it, he carefully lifted Conor’s glass from the inside and deposited it into the bag.  It was almost rote, and even as he did it he felt that it wasn’t going to yield any information.  He then knocked back his shot, and took a couple of swigs of the Guinness, put the bagged glass into his coat pocket and left.  He hadn’t planned on going back to the Hoover building, but then, he hadn’t planned on the strange encounter either.