The bucket hit the floor with a wet slap, splashing dirty water across my boots.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“On your knees, janitor,” Captain Rourke said, grinning. “Clean it up. With your tongue if you have to.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Underworld Bar went silent. Twenty people watched, waiting to see what the gym cleaner would do when a<\/p>\n\n\n\n
City Guard captain humiliated him. I stood there in my gray coveralls, mop in hand, water dripping from my<\/p>\n\n\n\n
shirt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I said kneel,” Rourke repeated, louder this time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at him. Really looked at him. The shiny captain’s bars. The polished boots. The six armed guards<\/p>\n\n\n\n
behind him, all smirking like they’d already won.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No,” I said quietly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke’s face went red. “What did you just say to me?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I said no. I’m not kneeling. And you’re going to regret coming here tonight.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of his guards stepped forward. “You threatening a City Guard officer?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Just stating facts,” I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke laughed, a harsh bark that echoed through the bar. “You hear this guy? Tough janitor. What are you<\/p>\n\n\n\n
gonna do, mop me to death?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He grabbed a beer from the nearest table and poured it over my head. The cold liquid ran down my face, into<\/p>\n\n\n\n
my eyes. The bar crowd gasped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That’s what I thought,” Rourke said. “You’re nothing. Just another loser scrubbing toilets for minimum wage.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wiped the beer from my eyes. Slowly. Deliberately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Leo,” I called to the bartender. “Call Vance.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Leo’s eyes went wide. “Sir… are you sure?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Call him. Now.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke frowned. “Who the hell is Vance? Your boss? Go ahead, call him. I’ll shake him down too.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Leo pulled out his phone with trembling hands. He dialed a number. Three rings. Then: “This is Leo at the<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Underworld. He says it’s time.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A pause.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Yes, sir. Commander Mason has activated Protocol Zero.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The color drained from Rourke’s face. “Mason? As in… Marcus Mason?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That’s right,” I said, pulling off my wet coverall top. Underneath was a simple gray t-shirt, but on the counter<\/p>\n\n\n\n
behind me sat something Rourke hadn’t noticed before. A small velvet box.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I opened it. Inside was a medal with ten stars arranged in a circle. The highest military decoration in the nation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Only one person had ever earned it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Oh God,” one of Rourke’s guards whispered. “That’s… that’s the Supreme Commander’s medal.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No way,” Rourke stammered. “You retired. You disappeared. You’re supposed to be dead!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I retired,” I confirmed. “Didn’t feel like being Supreme Commander anymore. Too much politics. Too many<\/p>\n\n\n\n
people like you crawling out of the woodwork.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I picked up the medal, let it catch the light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But being a janitor? That’s honest work. No one bothers you. No one asks questions. You clean up messes and<\/p>\n\n\n\n
go home.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Then why reveal yourself now?” Rourke’s voice cracked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Because you didn’t just disrespect a janitor. You’ve been running an extortion racket in District 9 for six<\/p>\n\n\n\n
months. Shaking down business owners. Threatening families. Using your badge to steal.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke’s hand moved toward his sidearm. Bad idea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was across the room in two steps. His gun was in my hand before he could blink. I ejected the magazine,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
cleared the chamber, and tossed the pieces behind the bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“How did you\u2014” Rourke gasped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Seventeen years of black ops training,” I said. “You really think I forgot?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Outside, the rumble of helicopters grew louder. Six of them, by the sound. The windows rattled as tactical lights<\/p>\n\n\n\n
flooded through the glass, turning night into day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That’s my ride,” I said. “Well, my security detail. They get nervous when I activate Protocol Zero.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The bar doors exploded inward. Shadow Ops soldiers poured in, moving like ghosts, weapons trained on<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke’s guards. Within seconds, every one of them was on the ground, zip-tied and disarmed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke stood alone in the center, shaking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You can’t do this!” he shouted. “I want to speak to General Kaine! He’s my superior officer!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“He’s on his way,” I said calmly. “Should be here any minute.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked to the bar. “Leo, pour me a beer. A fresh one. And one for the captain.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Leo, still trembling, set two glasses on the bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Drink,” I told Rourke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Is it poisoned?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It’s beer. The same beer you thought was good enough to pour on my head. Drink it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He drank, choking, beer spilling down his chin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The front door opened again. General Kaine stormed in, flanked by two lawyers, his white uniform pristine. He<\/p>\n\n\n\n
saw the Shadow Ops soldiers and stopped. Then he saw me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Mason,” Kaine said carefully. “I was told there was a terrorist incident.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Just pest control,” I said, spinning on my bar stool to face him. “Your dog here made a mess.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kaine’s jaw tightened. “Rourke is a decorated officer. You have no jurisdiction here. You abandoned your post<\/p>\n\n\n\n
three years ago.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I left the post in your trust,” I corrected. “And I come back to find my city being shaken down for protection<\/p>\n\n\n\n
money by thugs in uniform.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stood up. The room felt smaller.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Kaine, did you authorize Rourke’s extortion ring in District 9?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I won’t be interrogated by a janitor.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Wrong answer.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I moved fast. Kaine hit the floor hard, my boot on his chest before his bodyguards could react. Three Shadow<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ops rifles pressed against their helmets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Vance,” I said. “Play the recording.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My second-in-command held up a device. Audio crackled to life from the bar’s security system. But not from<\/p>\n\n\n\n
tonight. From last week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke’s voice: “The General needs his cut, Leo. Thirty percent. Or we burn this place down. Kaine doesn’t<\/p>\n\n\n\n
work for free.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kaine’s eyes went wide beneath my boot. “That’s manipulated!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It’s over, Kaine,” I said. “Protocol Zero gives me the power of judge, jury, and executioner in times of crisis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Corruption of the High Command qualifies.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked down at Rourke, who was crying now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You wanted me on my knees,” I said. “You wanted to feel powerful.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pinned the ten-star medal to my wet gray t-shirt. It looked ridiculous. It looked terrifying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Strip them,” I ordered the Shadow Ops team.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Sir?” a sergeant asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Strip them of their rank. Right now. Cut the patches off.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Combat knives sliced through fabric. Rourke screamed as his captain’s bars were ripped from his shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kaine struggled, but he was pinned. His general’s stars were torn away, leaving ragged holes in his pristine<\/p>\n\n\n\n
white uniform.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You are dishonorably discharged,” I said, my voice like iron. “You’ll be transferred to Blackgate Penal Colony<\/p>\n\n\n\n
to await trial for treason and extortion.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at Rourke. He was a shell, a man made of nothing but the uniform he no longer wore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“And Rourke?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked up, eyes red and streaming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You’re going to clean this mess up first.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pointed to the spilled beer and the overturned bucket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Mop. Now.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The mighty Captain Rourke, stripped of his insignia, wearing a torn uniform, picked up the mop. The bar<\/p>\n\n\n\n
watched in silence. This wasn’t entertainment. This was justice. This was the universe correcting itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke mopped. He wept while he did it, pushing gray water around, cleaning around my boots, cleaning<\/p>\n\n\n\n
around Kaine who lay handcuffed on the floor, staring at the ceiling in shock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the floor was dry, I took the mop from his hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You missed a spot,” I said quietly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pointed to the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Get them out of here, Vance.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Shadow Ops team hauled the disgraced officers away. Sirens faded into the night, leaving the Underworld<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bar in a strange, heavy peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I unpinned the medal. Put it back in the velvet box.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Leo,” I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Yes, Commander?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’m technically still on the clock. Didn’t finish my shift.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked to the utility closet. Grabbed a fresh bucket. Filled it with water and bleach. The smell was sharp and<\/p>\n\n\n\n
clean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Mr. Mason,” Leo said, coming around the bar. “You don’t have to do that. You’re the Supreme Commander.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You own the city.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I dipped the mop into the bucket and wrung it out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’m the Supreme Commander when there’s a war, Leo. Right now, there’s no war. Just a dirty floor.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I started mopping where Kaine had been lying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Besides,” I said, looking at the stunned crowd, “it’s honest work. Hard to find these days.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I worked for another hour. No one left. They just watched, drinking their beers quietly, witnessing a legend<\/p>\n\n\n\n
scrub scuff marks off linoleum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I finished, I put the mop away. Took off the wet coverall shirt and put on my jacket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked to the door. Vance was waiting by a black armored vehicle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Orders, sir?” he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked back at the bar. At the people who were finally breathing easy again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Keep the perimeter secure, Vance. But keep it invisible. I don’t want these people scared.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“And you, sir? Returning to headquarters?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I shook my head. Looked down the street toward the small studio apartment where I lived alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No. Going home. I have to be back here at six a.m. Tomorrow’s delivery day. Lots of boxes to move.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vance smiled, a rare expression. “Understood, sir. Welcome back.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked into the night. The city felt different now. Heavier, because I was carrying it again. But as I walked, I<\/p>\n\n\n\n
touched the medal box in my pocket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rourke had poured beer on a janitor. He thought he was punching down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He forgot the first rule of the street: be careful what you step on. It might be a landmine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And I was the biggest landmine of them all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The bucket hit the floor with a wet slap, splashing dirty water across my boots. “On your knees, janitor,” Captain Rourke said, grinning. “Clean it up. With your tongue if…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":156,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-155","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-tales"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n