The Crumbling City

 The Crumbling City

Chapter1: On Patrol in Chinatown and Beyond

Nervously a robber made his way into a store that looked rundown whilst erratically grabbing at a gun tucked inside loose-denim pants that kept falling. And from moment to moment he looked around as perspiration trickled down his neck. Also, the man had done this many times before, but knew it was a risk. All the same, he made his way towards the counter with the gun, then pointed it at the shopkeeper, and said, “Give me your money – all of it – now! I ain’t play-in!”

However, a vigilante was watching him from an aisle and moved forwards to get closer. This man was tall, strong, and had chiseled features, as well as blue eyes. “If you’ve come here to do crime – you’re gonna lose!” he said to the robber.

“Fuck you! – motherfucker!” said the criminal. He was a black man with a golden tooth and a bad attitude.

“Drop your weapon, punk!” insisted the vigilante holding a high-powered weapon known as a laser-blaster at the criminal’s head. Now this vigilante’s name was Randolph Becker, but his friends called him Randy. He lived the life of a true law abiding citizen. There was no one quite like him. For sure, those streets were hell, and the robbers roamed around like flies in the summer heat.

“I ain’t doing shit,” said the black man. “I came here to rob, and robbing is what I’m going to do.”

“Then you’re gonna lose!” Becker blasted him with two shots and the unlucky criminal fell to the floor. Smoke streamed up from his lifeless body.

“Thank you! Thank you very much!” said the oriental shopkeeper with an excited and relieved expression. He soon offered Becker some chocolate bars, saying, “Here – take, take!”

Indeed it was just another day in the crumbling city of San Francisco ever since a deadly pandemic had swept the nation a few years previously. In any case, this decrepit store stood in a quiet street in Chinatown. And Chinatown was one of Becker’s favorite parts of the city. He loved the food and the politeness of the Asians. They had always been good to him as most of the people there liked him because he helped to make their streets safe. Also they were frequently giving him things to show their appreciation. These objects were a type of currency in their own right because the economy now functioned differently than before the pandemic.

Becker looked outside and saw people congregating next to his black-armored Cadillac parked in front of the store. These people had heard the shots and were curious. They spoke amongst themselves. Even seeming to cheer at the fact that another criminal had been eradicated from those streets. And there was a look of relief in their faces.

So grabbing those prized chocolate bars from the shopkeeper’s hands the stern vigilante left the store to face a group of garrulous Chinese men and women outside. He paused and looked at them conversing energetically. Some patted him on the back affectionately. These people knew him exceptionally well.

“Becker – Becker!” said a young man, as if cheering him on, seeing that he was like a hero to them. As much a hero as anyone could be.

In part, he loved this adulation. Who wouldn’t?

The unfortunate epidemic had occurred a good while back, so presently no one bothered with masks or social distancing. Everyone behaved freely. Nevertheless, the government still maintained a semblance of power, but in a much more limited sense than before this pernicious virus had worked its way around the nation. As a consequence, many of the citizens were now huddled up in communities for protection. Some were more law abiding than others. However, others were downright unlawful and caused mayhem and distress to certain communities. Of course, a lot of buildings were in a bad state, either because of disuse or abuse, and numerous gangs frequently roamed around while black market activity was frequent.

Randolph Becker studied the virus intently and the penetrative depths of his insights were astonishing. He had been a scientist and philosopher before the pandemic. But most of all, he was a moralist with immense moral courage. People felt the strength of his convictions when in his presence as it radiated with such profundity and seriousness. Moreover, he had acquired many followers and allies. Many looked up to him for inspiration and support in these tough times. Yet at other times, he could even be a law unto himself, although the greater good was always his main objective. This, no one could ever doubt.

Becker was in no hurry to leave Chinatown. It felt good to take in the atmosphere. The food stalls were always deliciously brimming with interesting smells that oozed about with intoxicating delight to anyone within close range. He liked to blend in with the crowd. However today this was proving difficult. The citizens kept striking up conversations with him, so remaining polite, he pressed on down the street. Soon the crowd dispersed. Nothing more was said.

He thought of all the good that could be done. Certainty there appeared to be a lot to do. The chaos could not go on forever. However, that damaged world was fraught with confusion. And lately it had been building up even more, for a certain gang roamed the streets with greater freedom. Its leader was a ruthless man. He filled the streets of San Francisco full of pain. Also his power seemed to be growing all the time, yet he wanted order within his own ranks.

Now Becker then entered an indoor market. The selection of food looked outstanding; the place had a cool climate. Luckily no one paid too much attention to him there. He felt himself blending in amid the numerous people gazing at the huge quantities of seafood on display. Only the best quality would do for these loyal customers. He scanned the lobsters and then bought three of them. It was a good day so far. But the need to return to work nagged at him. So the urge to return to his parked Cadillac compelled him to leave as promptly as possible.

The car appeared old fashioned. It definitely needed a wash, as its dusty surface bore the marks of something written in Chinese. Hence this keeper of the peace now resumed his duty by cruising the streets in search of anything out of the ordinary. His eyes scanned around probingly. No detail escaped the man’s attention. Soon he would be leaving Chinatown. There were many rougher neighborhoods ahead. Many groups of people stood on street corners. Also piles of debris littered various areas. The shells of burnt out cars were common too. One had to be tough to endure such conditions.

Then he drove out of Chinatown and continued to cruise for a good while.

It was now mid-afternoon and Becker felt slightly bored driving around without interruption. A gas station appeared ahead. He needed to fill the gas tank of his Cadillac and found an adequate spot to park at. The atmosphere was quiet. It looked like a poor neighborhood, but there were worse ones ahead. He liked to patrol them all with a careful assurance, and the dangers were numerous, for they lurked in every corner. One had to know how to navigate any potential trouble that might arise.

Then when the tank was full, Becker inserted a card into a machine situated next to the gas pump to pay, and afterwards drove off.

The streets now looked more littered with rubble along with other kinds of obstructions. Sometimes he would even have to come out of the Cadillac and remove them. It could be hard work. There was always work to do in one form or another. Naturally this had become the way of things. Many people were very destructive. They didn’t care. Also, at times, a hellish nightmare confronted him. One needed to be resilient and strong-minded to deal with everything in this broken world.

In the distance there was a fire, of which the smoke coming from it had risen black and high into the air. Also, there did not seem to be much wind. Quickly, some people scrambled for cover and ran in various directions on seeing his vehicle approach.

At some point, someone began firing a gun towards his Cadillac, so Becker slowed down and swerved to avoid this. The shots were loud. He got out of the Cadillac and took a position behind it to look around to see where the shots were coming from.

The perpetrator could be seen on the other side of a barricade.

“Where is your location?” asked the voice when Becker called in for back up on his radio.

“I’m on Third Street, near Bayview-Hunters Point.”

“I’ll send some people, immediately,” said the man on the other end.

The air was still and tense as the outlaw behind his barricade conserved his many bullets, and the two antagonists kept eyeing each other out from their respective positions of safety since both were speculating on what the other might do. Clearly none wanted to give any ground. Then in twenty minutes the back up appeared, which consisted of three cars full of the police and some loyal law abiding citizens. They surrounded the barricade. Soon the man on the other side began to panic. He tugged at his shirt around the neck area with nervous movements.

“Come out of there!” shouted Becker. “Be a man, and give yourself up!”

There was an eerie silence for a moment. However, at the end of this, he appeared out in the open with his hands raised. Nobody shot him. Afterwards, he was quickly handcuffed without much resistance and the police took him away in one of their cars. So it seemed to have been an act of desperation when firing his weapon earlier. Of course, these sorts of occurrences were a daily thing. Invariably people get frustrated.

A short while after that incident, Becker resumed his patrol. Moreover, because of his temperament, he mostly liked to work alone, since too many distractions could be bothersome. Hence, the others had quickly dealt with the details of that last situation and the vigilante was free again. Certainly there were still numerous neighborhoods to observe. Also, some days were very long, especially when the weather was good. In California, the weather felt good most of the time. For him, there had been worse places. He considered himself lucky to be in San Francisco. The streets looked impressive while the Bay Area was extremely beautiful. And the Golden Gate Bridge seemed amazing. It was a fine place to be, and worth protecting. He loved the city – even in its dilapidated state.

Then, on not noticing any suspicious occurrences for the rest of his patrol, he drove back to where his vigilante community were living. The place resembled a fortress and was well guarded with a profusion of barbed wire surrounding the perimeter of its entire structure. To add to that, numerous cameras looked down upon the various entry points. Also, there were four tall guard towers, one at each corner of the main building occupied by gunmen. Intruders stood no chance, and it appeared foolish to even try anything unless one had a powerful long distance weapon.

Soon Becker’s vehicle steadily approached. Its familiar appearance could not be mistaken for any other as everyone there knew it well.

Instantly the main fence-gate began to move to the side electronically to make an opening for the vehicle. Yet standing just inside to the left within the compound, stood his best friend Felipe Morales, for he always seemed eager to talk and catch up on matters. They both would speak about literally everything.

Next, the tired vigilante got out of the car.

“How did it go, Randy?” his good buddy asked.

“You know, there’s always someone crazy. I’m sure you heard me call in for back up.”

“Yeah, I did.”

At that point, the two headed towards a door leading to the interior of the well-fortified vigilante stronghold while continuing to talk. You could see how close the pair of friends were.

Chapter 2: The Enemy Create a Stir

Certainly everything in the next few days seemed fine in San Francisco following that last incident as most of the patrols went as normal. Yet, like the calm before a storm something big had been brewing with great rapidity. Invariably it would soon erupt. For a dark foreboding had become apparent. It existed in the form of a new level of organization within the main criminal elements of the city concentrated around an oppressive leader with a vicious and ruthless intent. And this man, as well as his gang, had become powerful. In truth, everyone knew him as Kaden, though his first name was Lennox, and he wore a black-leather patch over his right eye and had various scars. Indeed, this master criminal looked rangy with a ruddy complexion along with long auburn hair. Consequently he was also very good at eluding capture by all of the best and agile law enforcers.

At present, the followers of Kaden were getting increasingly busy. Thievery was now everywhere accompanied by endless mayhem and discontent among the civilian population because the exploits of these criminals appeared in numerous places. Therefore all manner of atrocities were being committed. Of course, all the city felt unsafe. Some citizens even felt a paralyzing anxiety-driven fear. And some of them chose not to leave their houses as their worries felt too intense. So more vigilantes had to be recruited from the public at large. Namely, the ones with courage and a great sense of morality, as well as those who knew how to fight.

Indeed the night-time was the scariest, since that meant that only the bravest souls would roam around during those dangerous hours, and if attempted, it helped to be part of a group. For you clearly wouldn’t want to risk being alone, as the danger was far too great. Hence there were untold places where crimes could be perpetrated, such as dark and hidden regions where no one would come to your aid and you would be completely at the mercy of any of those wild and marauding fiends.

“We are all friends in crime,” said Kaden to his men. “Obey me, and we will one day rule this city.”

“Yeah, yeah!” they shouted – their eyes transfixed on him like dumb creatures under a spell. Of course, none of them stayed in one place for too long, which was how these filthy-vermin of humanity avoided any kind of law enforcement detection. Also, some of them even lived in the tunnels below the city. The tunnels had many mysteries and also countless booby traps for the unwary. Therefore only the most knowledgeable vigilantes would venture into such places with confidence.

Undoubtedly that world had ceased to be kind. Everyone knew it, and the weak had to be protected from the vermin.

Now Kaden mostly lived in an old yellow bus that he had personalized to suit his own requirements. Naturally, it was loaded with various weapons and ammunition. Moreover, the windows had reinforced metal plates with narrow openings that he could shoot guns through because they had been soldered to its structure. So this bus did not serve the purposes of either comfort or relaxation. It had the appearance of a modern chariot. Invariably it was like mayhem on wheels. Indeed, he loved to be feared and hid stolen goods in numerous places throughout the city that were protected by numerous guards. Most of these guards were extremely loyal. Others, at times, would betray him. The penalty was severe, as fear is a weapon for the strong to wield.

Nevertheless, Randolph Becker feared no one as he had the confidence of a true moralist on a crusade for justice. However, at some point, these two bulls, both Becker and Kaden, would obviously butt heads. For the arena was now set, though it needed a spark to fully ignite it.

Meanwhile Kaden, on a certain day was feeling bored in the center of the city and saw a particularly cute looking woman walk past his bus as he stood on the sidewalk, and said the following: “Hey! sweet-meat . . . come over here, and I’ll show you a good time.”

Of course, she didn’t take too kindly to those words and thought him a complete jerk. So picking up a discarded glass bottle, the woman threw it at him – but missed. It broke against the side of the bus. That act infuriated him and he gave her a good beating by smacking her across the face until it got bloodied and bruised. Afterwards she ran home to an older brother, crying. Certainly these siblings had always been close. Now undoubtedly the woman was extremely distraught and was almost impossible to calm down. Later, word of it got around, and many despised this act of cruelty. Becker, specifically, got very angered. However, his enemy was a slippery character and had a great force to back him up. So no one could be sure of how things would turn out.

Then several weeks went by following that vicious beating, and many had forgotten, but Becker couldn’t, because he found himself endlessly searching for clues to seriously deal with Kaden properly. Furthermore, those thoughts sometimes kept him awake at night. They really had an effect on him. He seriously could not banish them.

Instantly an idea suddenly appeared in his mind one morning when he was walking towards his car – it came in a fast, exhilarating flash. How about if I use an attractive woman as bait to lure him? he thought. However, someone had to be found for this purpose. It would have to be someone tough and willing to risk their life. Luckily, Becker knew such a person. She was called Clarice Everson, and had once been in the U.S. Army’s elite Special Operation Forces before becoming a vigilante and was definitely a tough person that had experienced much discrimination and hardships in her life. What is more, this woman lived in a different community than his own, so he would have to go there and ask her personally for help. It was in a different part of the city, closer to the Bay Area.

Clarice was a rare woman, for sure. Certainly intelligent with tons of guile. Also she could deceive anyone, in any situation, and not break a sweat. Consequently many admired her courage. So before work, the vigilante arranged a meeting with this woman acquaintance by phone.

Therefore during the evening, he drove to her community and the people at the gate expected his arrival and soon recognized his car the moment it got there. Indeed, this law enforcement stronghold was situated in a huge compound near the river. Furthermore, its procedures and general look resembled all the other vigilante communities that kept in touch with one another as they were highly organized and communicated together regularly. Also, these places were springing up quite frequently to combat the city’s extensive problems with lawlessness. The government appeared to be increasingly weaker with every passing day, since it was losing its cohesiveness.

Next, Becker met Clarice in the busy cafeteria. She was sitting there at a table near the center area wearing tight, light blue jeans and a green military jacket. Her hair, which appeared tied up in a pony tail, looked long, blond and silky. Apparently, he had always felt an immense attraction to this Amazonian-hardball. Nevertheless, this meeting was important to the welfare of the city, so his own feelings would have to wait.

Therefore, he went and casually sat in front of her at the table, saying, “Good to see you again.” At that moment, their eyes respectfully met in a moment of mutual recognition and assurance. Then both shuffled around in their seats slightly whilst sensing each other’s energy.

“It’s good to meet you again,” she said. “Thanks for the call. What do you propose we do?”

“Well, I’m broken up about the beating that woman received from that scumbag Kaden. And I want to do something about it. Yeah, I want to make him pay. But I cannot do it alone. I need your help.”

“What can I do?”

“I need you to pretend to be a criminal to gain his trust, and to lead him on. Yeah, make him think he might have a chance with you. But I also want information about his habits and whereabouts. Information I can use to find a pattern in his behavior. Could you do that for me?” Quickly Becker placed his hands on Clarice’s.

She now thoughtfully examined the risks involved until a look of certainty came into her eyes when considering it, and promptly uttered the following words, “Yes, I will do it.”

Then the two colleagues spoke for half an hour more until the greatly pleased vigilante departed in high spirits, which at present, made him walk with a great sense of zeal. Moreover, a boost in meaningful-optimism spurred him on when inside his car on the ride back home. Naturally his mind was bursting with ecstatic images of a safer city with a greater sense of order and justice because wrongdoing had to be punished in one way or another – it could not be allowed to fester for too long.

Undoubtedly Becker loved to train in the gym. Fortunately his community had a fairly decent one. The next morning he woke up early and did exactly that, he trained. And assuredly it helped to work up a strong body in his line of work. In addition, one needed to be fast. Therefore to show weakness in those ruthless streets, even for a moment, would definitely be dangerous as many had paid the price for lacking what it took to be a successful vigilante even though the spirit of moralism may have burned strongly in them. Surely, one had to be careful and pragmatic to the last.

Hence, in all their confidence, no one really knew how things would turn out. The future was uncertain. But it always made sense to prepare. Only the foolish fail to prepare, since the foolish make a mockery of every situation because they think everything revolves around them, and their view of the world is usually unobjective and fixed. At times, they even try to proclaim how things should go irrespective of any considerations. Nevertheless, Clarice would prepare. She changed her whole appearance. Many sacrifices had to be made in regard to comfort or relaxation. What was needed was a type of acting, and this crafty woman would have to play a part for an extensive period of time without interruption. It resembled working undercover. However, she was no official cop, just a good and honorable citizen.

Now San Francisco, even in its current rundown state, could sometimes seem extremely beautiful – one needed only to momentarily forget the world had turned to shit. Surely, it had lost many of its delights. Also, there were many stragglers from different communities roaming about confusedly due to the incessant chaos that ensued, and Clarice pretended to be one of them. What is more, she had a rough idea of where Kaden may appear. His activities were not completely unknown. There are always predictable patterns in most people’s behavior. No one is utterly and completely mysterious. Sometimes patterns can be discerned.

Then on a Monday, she caught sight of his bus at the head of a convoy of his own followers that trailed him in other vehicles. Furthermore, some sheets of old newspapers fluttered in their wake and numerous onlookers displayed a look of fear at the sight of them. A few even ran in various directions to get far away. Anywhere was better than there, they thought. And a middle-aged woman with a dirty face and an old shopping trolley nearly got rundown. The vehicles came to a stop at a square.

Instantly Clarice moved in closer, contrary to the others that had done the opposite. Soon Kaden was giving her the eye as she looked way too attractive to be ignored. He couldn’t resist. “Are you lost, or something?” he asked.

“No, just a thief looking for the company of other thieves.” It felt odd to lie, but a fake mask had to be maintained.

Immediately Kaden stepped towards her and grinned as pleasantly as he could, however the man always exuded a menacing undertone. “You wanna come with us?”

“Sure,” said Clarice, though she felt her heart pounding like a hammer on an anvil.

“What’s your name?”

“Maya.”

He now grinned more pronouncedly. The two walked towards where some of his followers were standing, and he said: “This is Maya . . . a thief like us. And she’s gonna be traveling with our crew. So make room.” They looked at her grudgingly on the account of being a woman but accepted the situation nonetheless.

“You stole anything big before?” asked one of them. He had the appearance of a bulldog in heat, though much uglier.

“I once stole a lorry full of cargo while the driver was urinating at the side of the road,” answered Clarice, hoping her lie was accepted.

Quickly the man returned a dumb look of somehow being impressed; he did not pursue the matter any further. Soon everyone went towards their vehicles and she followed the group that the same man that had just spoken to her went with. It was purely instinctual. She sat at the back of their white van. Hence one vehicle after another, the whole convoy sped off following Kaden’s bus and cruised many streets until everyone arrived at a dilapidated warehouse. Next, some of the crew got out of their vehicles and went into this warehouse carrying duffle bags full of unknown objects. But quickly the convoy dispersed by driving in different directions and the van Clarice sat inside went in the direction of a building at the end of an alley and parked outside. Everyone got out, and besides her, there were seven other men. She afterwards followed them into the building.

This was not an ideal situation, however this mission felt important. It was a large house and Clarice got a room at the back. Her companions appeared to be non threatening for now, yet only time would tell if this would continue. The place smelt of sour clothes and partially rotten food, so she volunteered to do some cleaning. Some of them watched TV in the front room while this was occurring. They were spellbound by a football game.

Chapter 3: A Confrontation Unfolds

Now in the meantime, Becker took more time liaising between vigilantes and what still existed of the regular police force since all of them needed to cooperate to fight crime effectively and exchange information. Moreover, he loved doing this just as much as patrolling the streets. Clearly it didn’t have the same danger, though in his mind it still felt rewarding nonetheless. Also, every few days Clarice sent him coded-text messages on his mobile phone containing useful information about the activities of Kaden’s crew. It was a system already used by the vigilantes, which meant that how the code was understood felt like second nature to them.

Of course, as this valuable information was gathered by him, his confidence soon grew and he began to notice a distinct pattern emerging in the behavior of Kaden’s crew. So whenever possible he would survey those activities more closely until he felt it was the right moment to act. Also, Becker didn’t want to act too impulsively and would need the support of others when any opportune situation arose. Therefore he waited for his informant to be out of danger after she had provided enough information before acting. Hence, at some point, Clarice sneakily snuck out of the crew’s house during the night when everyone was sleeping.

Indeed, soon there would be a reckoning. The world cannot remain the same for too long. So on a warm day when the sky looked clear, Kaden and his crew were cruising one of their usual routes, and everything seemed normal. Then like a tidal wave of noise and activity they were quickly assailed by both vigilantes and regular police that lay in wait and that promptly surrounded them when they had entered a large car park. It was basically an ambush. The criminals felt cut off. later much gunfire ensued.

“Kaden, your time is up!” shouted Becker whilst firing away with his trusty laser-blaster.

“Not me, no. I won’t give myself in,” said the defiant criminal. “I won’t go, I swear!” His face was full of fear and rage. He also appeared to be slavering at the mouth, wildly. However, the man was well protected within the armored-bus. But sometimes the odd bullet here or there would either pass through a gap in the plating or ricochet off its outside. Nevertheless, this shootout went on until many of his crew were gunned down. Afterwards he panicked, so he rammed his bus through a gap in the blockade and drove away. Assuredly some of his men followed him in other vehicles. A major chase was now underway. For numerous siren sounds blared intensely and various gun shots continued going off during the pursuit while many passers by clearly looked alarmed as they had never witnessed so much commotion. Nevertheless, no one could guess how long this chase would last. It appeared very intense and exhilarating.

What is more, Felipe Morales, like a younger brother, was by now sitting beside Becker in the Cadillac as he had gotten into the vehicle just before the chase. “This is a good day for us,” he said.

“Yeah, he’s feeling the heat. There’s no question about that,” remarked his delighted companion. They now smirked at each with satisfaction.

“Where do you think he’s going?” asked Morales.

“Probably somewhere where the bastard can hide,” said Becker, looking incredibly focused on how he was driving along the road.

Then at some point, Kaden’s crew came to an abandoned treatment plant where many old sewers had once been rerouted. Evidently they knew the site well and got out of their vehicles and ran into its main building with law enforcers in close pursuit. However the latter were obviously unfamiliar with the plant, so became a little confused. More shots were fired by either side. The sound echoed off the walls. It felt deafening. Not long after, the enemy disappeared into a dark underground tunnel beneath the structure that made it hard to tell where they had gone. Now the risk to the pursuers appeared more pressing.

“Damn!” yelled Morales, staring into the tunnel. “What are we supposed to do?”

“It’s too risky going in there,” said Becker, standing at the entrance to the tunnel whilst looking markedly baffled. He doubted whether that kind of danger was worth it, for it seemed like unknown territory with many pitfalls. “Let’s leave,” he insisted. So the two friends walked away with the rest of their team.

A new plan was needed.

It was a difficult moment, and because of their colossal failure to get an outright victory, the next few days felt anticlimactic, but a definite battle had been clearly won due to the enemy having lost numerous men with the rest in hiding. For they were hiding like rats and licking their wounds. In time, such vermin would be found. Also many of their stolen vehicles had been confiscated. However there were many other criminals to be dealt with, certainly many other problems needing attention.

And one day, when driving on patrol Becker’s phone rang and a strange voice appeared. “I have information to give!” it said.

“Who are you ?” he asked.

“It’s not necessary for you to know who I am, only that you listen.”

“What is it? What do you need to tell me?”

“Kaden is planning an assault on a vehicle depot at sunrise. He, and his men need vehicles.”

“Where is this depot?” asked Becker, with an expression of deep fascination.

“It’s called Camino Depot, and is at 520 San Sebastián Boulevard.” Immediately after those words were spoken, the call was cut off from the other end. Obviously it was interesting information. But could he fully trust it? This, the vigilante didn’t know, though he pondered on what had been said for the next few hours.

In the evening, Becker met up with Morales back at their vigilante community’s building. And to his surprise, Clarice was also there. She may have sensed something impending in the air. Next, they all sat around a table, and the former of the three started by saying: “I was given an anonymous tip about Kaden and his crew.”

“What is it?” asked Morales, lunging forwards slightly.

“I think that bastard is going to assault a vehicle depot at sunrise . . . We have to be ready if this happens. And I can’t let him get away this time.”

“Where is this depot?”

“It’s on San Sebastián Boulevard,” said Becker.

“How are you going to stop him?” asked Clarice. Her face presently grew concerned.

“I’m not sure . . . but I’ll think of something, I want him locked up. Yeah, and if he doesn’t come willingly this time, I’m gonna gut that rat properly!”

Following that, they ordered coffees and planned the assault in greater detail. A team was assembled. Only the most skilled. But their time was limited, so everyone involved got a few hours of sleep and woke up in the dead of night and drove to the vehicle depot. The darkness and silence felt sobering, yet stealthiness was key. And timewise, the sunrise didn’t seem too far away. However, Kaden appeared to have chosen a strange moment to make an assault. He must have been desperate, or at least been behaving more erratically than usual. It didn’t really matter. What mattered, was if the information could be trusted. No one really knew. It felt like a gamble.

Therefore, hidden outside behind cars and debris in front of the most important parts of the depot, the team lay in wait carefully watching with painstaking scrutiny. At some point, the glow of the sun’s orb shone over the horizon and everyone’s nerves tensed up a notch. It gradually made its way up the sky with yellow and orange hues of illumination. Then like clockwork, a group of men came shuffling along the boulevard towards them just as expected. Consequently Becker distinctly noticed Kaden leading the remnants of his ragtag crew in a confident way by waving his hands to indicate to them to move into certain positions as they pressed along. And naturally, his men, like pliant puppets, looked crafty, bold, and obedient as they walked towards their doom because a moment later, lurking in wait, and resembling animals of prey, the hidden figures of the law enforcers commenced a decisive and relentless ambush on that unsuspecting bunch of criminals. Yet this time, Becker immediately shot Kaden with a tranquilizer dart as he wasn’t taking any chances. What is more, most of his crew were promptly gunned down for attempting to fight back. However, four of them, resembling scared little children, did clearly surrender without resistance.

So against his apparent awareness, Kaden was ceremoniously carried and placed in a prison cell at a Police Department building after having been driven there. For many hours later, like a mean bear, he awoke feeling groggy, angry and aggressive. But unlike that majestic animal that roams the earth with pride, he was markedly afraid. Though, within a short time, his meanness became obvious to all those around that immediate vicinity with its vile slurs and jabs. And Becker came to visit him in the cell. Of course, one could sense the bile rising. Both eyed one another with disdain on meeting up close. “Well, finally I have you under control. What do you have to say for yourself?” said the vigilante. He spoke with a slight sneer.

“My, you really think you’re something! . . . The strong don’t need to condone what they do. They just do it! So I don’t need to answer any of your questions, or listen to your moral preachings.”

“Uh . . . Really? How can you live with an attitude like that? You’re crazy!”

Kaden then grimaced and laughed. “I live how I wanna live. So get the hell out of my face!” he said.

“I’m not finished with you,” retorted Becker, and he walked away.

“I have no remorse for anything I’ve done. I don’t want to talk about anything. We’re not living in a lawful world anymore!” shouted Kaden.

Outside, after that awful meeting in the cell, Becker felt visibly bothered by the cold-indifference of his enemy when walking away from the Police Department building. So he sat in his car just staring into space. It had been a sobering exchange of words. Soon, he would be back on patrol again. Indeed it was good to work and to temporarily forget about unresolvable problems. Everything didn’t have to make sense as the world owed him no explanation and there were plenty of other criminals to deal with. At least that would reassure him for a good while. Therefore, focusing on this, he drove off in his Cadillac.

The streets, on this present patrol, at that moment, seemed quieter. Then three months later Becker found out that Kaden had escaped when being transferred to a County Jail. Apparently, some people had helped him escape. Nevertheless, it was a disaster, a real shame, and the search for him had to resume once again.

Chapter 4: The Search for Kaden

Instantly tempers flared back at the San Francisco Police Department over the escape. The whole incident had been a shambles for their once excellent reputation. And now they were hard pressed in having to resolve and deal with this embarrassing failure. However, their resources, due to the troubled times, were extremely limited. Yet they needed to persevere and get things done. So the hunt was now on to catch that criminal which had duped them so cleverly, but this time they would use German Shepherds to sniff out his whereabouts as they had some of his belongings, including a dark-blue bandana decorated with old hippy patterns in gray. It had a strong, musty-cologne smell. Also, the search would start at the location where the escape had happened, which in this case, was a stretch of road on the way to the County Jail.

At first there was not much success in regard to the progress of the search, as the dogs seemed to sniff around aimlessly. For a police officer named Meadows rolled his eyes on seeing this. And another officer, his companion, named Heaney, were their main handlers. Both, certainly loved dogs, and had an excellent reputation for doing good work in the past. Therefore, if anyone could find Kaden, it would be them. They enjoyed the challenge. Consequently half an hour at this turned into an hour, and then not long after that, one of the dogs, named Lola, led them in a certain direction. Now this apparent breakthrough could be useful, thought Heaney and Meadows, and so the rest of that day was spent searching the streets in that direction.

Moreover, numerous police officers were now involved, accompanied by some vigilantes. Indeed, they could almost feel Kaden’s presence. The man must be close. It was just a matter of time before he blundered. Those streets were in an area full of automobile repair garages with many patches of grease on the floor. The smell of oil was prevalent. Then the loud sound of a large dog beginning to bark broke the monotony of silence as a moment later, Kaden and three other men came out of an alley running at full speed firing shots at the law enforcers with pistols and entered a fast car. Quickly they sped off – pushing up debris and dust.

Soon Becker and Morales were pursuing them in the Cadillac like cat and mouse. Could the four get away? Who knew? This situation seemed familiar. Yet the chase was definitely on. However, this time, the criminals were making some headway and got very far ahead. Indeed, luck seemed to be on their side as the fleeing vehicle quickly swerved all over the tarmac and left some burnt-rubber marks behind. Also, their desperate driving was reckless and was definitely a real danger to pedestrians. Some of them even stumbled in fear of crossing the street. Obviously the driver was a menace.

At some point, Becker could not see the car: it seemed to have gotten away. He felt his heart sink, but wouldn’t give up and carried on driving onwards. Later, the car appeared in the distance with a puff of dust surrounding it. This was exciting to see and he pushed down more on the accelerator and gradually his Cadillac got closer. Now the four figures of the criminals were clearly discernible within its interior. Therefore Morales began shooting at them through his opened window and their heads ducked in panic at the sound of noise and the shattering of glass. One of them looked like he’d been hit. The car swerved from side to side and someone inside yelled as both vehicles slowed down, yet the pursuit continued as they were not willing to give up easily.

“Stop your vehicle!” shouted Morales.

Of course, no one listened, but they answered with a few blasts of return fire. As a result, a touch of fear now kicked in for the pursuers at this response while ahead the cars carried on in a chase that seemed intoxicatingly hellish. Also Becker began sweating, and thought: When will this end? But at least he had his friend alongside him. And invariably someone’s petrol would run out at some point in one of the two cars because of its scarcity during those days. Yet which one would it be? No one knew. So some time later, that is what happened, and luckily for them the car being pursued had burned up more fuel. Next, it ran into a ditch. Three of them, including Kaden, got out of their vehicle and began running towards some streets ahead and slightly to the right. Therefore Becker stopped the Cadillac and he and Morales chased them on foot. Moreover, the former was much more fitter than the latter. But whether he was fitter than the criminals or not, no one knew. He needed to find out.

Indeed everyone was running with an energetic fervor under a blue sky with wispy clouds and the day felt like a rollercoaster of emotions for all those involved. Yet, by this now highly fraught time, they were far from the center of San Francisco, and naturally there were not as many people around here compared to where they had come from. It looked greener and hilly. Much more like the outskirts. Nevertheless, Becker couldn’t allow his main enemy to slip away this time. So he hunted him like a wolf sniffing out its prey and felt his primal instincts kick in to their highest pitch. There’s no way that man is getting away, he thought.

Morales shot another of the men and chased the other because he knew that Becker wanted Kaden for himself.

Eventually the vigilante’s archnemesis felt exhausted and cornered in a street without many exits and a confrontation seemed imminent. Therefore, with this reason in mind, he shouted: “Ha! I’m the king, man. I decide how things roll. I make the rules. I dictate the moves. You are nothing to me!” Afterwards, he pulled out a survival knife with a serrated-section and sharp cutting edge because his bullets had run out and craftily hid in wait behind some cars out of a fear of being shot.

Immediately Becker approached carefully, pointing his gun around when looking for any kind of movement as his heart was beating faster. Apprehension pulsed through his body. Then tauntingly, he said: “Come out, you coward! Face me properly.” There was no response, only a dangerous sense of spooky-eeriness in the atmosphere. The vigilante now came closer to where Kaden had hidden and quickly the latter stood up to throw his knife at the former, and ran. However, instantly Becker managed to dodge the knife and shot him in the leg with his laser-blaster using a non-lethal setting. Next handcuffs were put on him and he was escorted to the Cadillac while hobbling on one leg.

Later, at some point along the way a confident and smiling Morales appeared with the other criminal in handcuffs. And when everyone got back to the Cadillac Becker took out a canister of stored petrol out of his boot and poured it into the vehicle and subsequently drove them back to the center of the city. Then during the ride back, Kaden would not shut his mouth up about his leg and the misery of his failed exploits. For he was going on and on like a child that had been punished, and said: “I have the right to a fair trial! . . . Believe me, I will find a way out of this. The street is my world. It is where I reign supreme. I’m special. I’m not an average person. You cannot hold me down . . . In time I will find a way to remedy this setback. Just you see!”

Gradually they got to the main San Francisco Police Department building, and the prisoners were escorted in. The front lobby smelt of cheap after-shave and a sort of citrus floor cleaning product. “Great, you caught him again. You’re lucky,” said one of the cops to Becker.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s just get the two processed.”

Soon Kaden was taken away by some officers. He looked dejected in his facial expression, though quite energetic in his movements. Next, the other criminal that Morales had caught was also taken away a moment after, and he had a face full of confusion and worry. The man was around forty, white, and with a scruffy appearance.

Consequently it looked dark outside when the two vigilantes left the police building, and finally they could relax a little. In the street there were a few people gathered that looked excited that Kaden had been caught again. Apparently someone had noticed the notorious criminal being taken in and informed many others, for in the near distance more people were now coming closer. Invariably Becker felt like a hero, but he didn’t want the attention and quickly walked to his Cadillac with Morales following just behind. Soon he drove off.

The future definitely manifested as something brighter every day in the weeks that came after. Unquestionably the city had much healing to do. Yet the right people could make it happen, even in those difficult days. But the nights were the hardest. The nights seemed a curse filled with unfathomable terrors for the unwary that needed to be utterly relieved by much more lawfulness. Therefore it resembled a grotesque abomination of terrible occurrences which could send shivers down one’s spine. And each new day of improvement felt like a blessing.

Certainly many people were inspired by Becker, though none more than Clarice because their association came to be like a heavenly match. Furthermore, they had great respect for each other. Also, their paths crossed increasingly since the two shared much in common in their desire to improve San Francisco. Therefore the numerous feelings between them fully blossomed. In time, the happy pair decided to marry and start a family to help repopulate their much beloved city. In fact, many citizens followed this trend. Undoubtedly the future should be a good thing, thought many during that time, as there was no point in dwelling on the negative. Indeed, the pandemic had been a hard blow but things could get better if everyone desired optimism to crown their now rising ambitions.

Eventually things improved in fits and starts, though it was a long road that lay ahead before the city improved fully. Yet the dark days and nights were hard to overcome as many still loved the mayhem and chaos of a crumbling city. Some were able to thrive in that atmosphere, while there were those that longed for a better place free of misery since such a thing could be attained seeing that all they really needed was hope, for they needed a hope that could ignite a better world.

Then in time, many new projects were undertaken. Some large, some small. However, one of the most important ones concerned the improving of the shattered infrastructure, for the people of San Francisco once had working trams and other major amenities that made their lives run smoothly and also with a sense of dignity. Furthermore, they knew their city once had a glorious past, as did the whole State of California.