‘I cannot halt destiny, the popular will.’
‘Popular will, my ass,’ the Police Chief shouted. ‘That’s machine-gun fire out there. You don’t buy popularity, legitimacy, with friggin’ bullets.’
‘Now, why didn’t you say that to your officers when they went out on patrol?’
‘For God’s sake, man …’
‘I’m doing it for His sake, for the sake of the black nation, my lost tribe.’
‘No.’ The Mayor was shaking his head, trembling with vehemence. ‘You’re doing it for yourself, for your own crazed ambition, your warped ideals. Same story, same suffering.’
‘Everyone starts with a dream.’
‘Yours? A nightmare. And it’ll end on Death Row. Depend on it.’ The jaw of the Police Chief jutted in challenge.
Azania met it with a shrug. ‘Then I’ll be following all the other oppressed African-Americans, the sinned against, lied against, condemned and sentenced by the white legal system.’ His speech slowed, the words enunciated. ‘But not yet.’
‘The wait’ll be worth it.’ The Mayor glowered at their captor. ‘You really believe the United States will tolerate a prick like you? You so convinced you’ve created such a beacon of shining fucking light no one will touch you?’
‘The wandering, the biding, is over. Do you understand?’
‘I recognize shit when I smell it.’
‘Then you’ll know you’re in deep.’
An abrasive laugh that came as a cough from the Police Chief. ‘You’re one dumb, sick, sorry, psychotic asshole, Reverend. And America’s vaporized a few of those in recent years.’
‘The rules of engagement have changed,’ Azania replied. ‘These festivities, me and the director of homeland security are going to get down and dirty. So you can kiss goodbye to traditional politics, conventional war-fighting.’
‘You can kiss goodbye to your genitalia.’
‘We have the means to defend ourselves, guard the sovereignty, integrity, of our domain.’
Wonderment, disbelief, etched the Mayor’s face. ‘Integrity? Man, you are something. And it ain’t a man of God. What happened to humility, honesty, decency?’
‘Fuck it. It’s LA.’
‘And where’s the doubt, tolerance, turning the other cheek?’
‘Oh, I had to rewrite those sections too, tweak the rules. Pacifism’s a little sketchy when it comes to waging a guerrilla campaign.’
‘Reality’s a little sketchy when it comes to your mindset.’
Azania paced methodically in front of them. ‘Ever heard of black projects?’
‘You’re not supposed to hear of them.’ The Police Chief felt comfortable with confrontation. It offered an illusion of control, the façade of equality, power-sharing. Damn it, there was no such thing when your hands were tied. ‘Black are the military’s most highly classified research and weapons development programmes, ones that are never scrutinized.’
‘That’s right. The US spends thirty billion dollars a year on them. Advanced systems like plasma guns firing ionized gas balls at 10,000 kilometres a second, directed energy armaments, kinetic-kill railguns, anti-gravity powered aircraft, hypersonic scramjets. Weird stuff. Dollars pumped in so people can be killed rather than fed. Well, I’m going to show them my kind of black programme, the most powerful weapon ever devised. Anger. There’s no known counter-measure.’
‘For a two-bit common gangster, you’re mouthy.’ Distilled hatred seeped from the Mayor.
‘It’s Third World War. We, the Third World, the burdened, dispossessed, are rising to take back what has been stolen, we will act as a focus, a crucible, of revolution.’
‘You representing which constituency, Azania? Anyone else with a ten million buck Brentwood mansion, I s’ppose.’
Black glared at black. ‘It’s where a man lives in his heart that’s important.’
‘Or where he’s coming from, or which mental institution he’s heading for. I’m African-American, and I’m elected.’
‘Say it loud, huh? The result has just been voided.’
‘’S funny how bloodshed climbs when folk like you take command.’
‘Shift demands sacrifice.’
‘Which handy student placard did you crib that from? Try leadership requires intuition.’
‘You are a black whore.’ The finger pointed. ‘You, a cheap white harlot.’ It stabbed again. ‘Jezebels without authority, without standing, without shame. Now without office. I have exposed you for what you are, cast you down.’
The face of the Police Chief had assumed a semblance of reason and earnestness. ‘You cannot win, Reverend. You’ve made your point. But it’s a hopeless situation, untenable. Open negotiations. I’ll facilitate, see what I can do.’ His neck wound in, body shrinking reflexively into the chair as Azania moved behind.
‘See what I can do.’ The chair and its occupant accelerated towards the window, Azania’s hands clamped on the seat back. ‘Have a look, go on. What do you observe?’
‘Fiasco.’
‘Overthrow, a new world picture, the have-nots succeeding the haves.’
‘They’ll call out the National Guard.’
