Who was responsible

After breakfast, JC went to the bank and had his dollar changed. Tommy waited outside. After counting his money, he went to look for him. He was there all right sitting in his car.

"I want to interview the head of that military operation, Tom. Will that be possible today?" he asked him.

"I'll call Louisa to arrange that for us."

"Then we should go see members of the opposition."

"We can do that in the afternoon, JC"

All over the land assumptions ran high. People not only speculate, but they were also suspicious of the government-created media and pointed an accusatory finger at a high-level conspiracy. Somebody was responsible up there. After years of authoritarian rule, people's judgment was set on no one but the monsters. Putting aside due process they found them guilty by popular consensus. Public clamor for an explanation or a denial was broiling from north to south. It was expected to come out soon for they knew how it worked. Who but someone up there would ever conceive of eliminating a very charismatic opposition? Speculations revolved around the president and those who would tend to lose so much if somebody else gained power.

As the speculations simmered down, people shifted their fingers to the wife who had been eyeing a chance to take over as the president. She was ambitious and this was manifested in her actions and public statements. People were not surprised. They were flabbergasted and anger was blistering in different sectors.

In the palatial living room, the news of the assassination came as no surprise, but the manner of its execution was. There were loud voices and those timid ones, as well. There were accusations and denials. What resounded on top of the others was the president's angry voice.

Doctor Tessa Lopez, one of the president's physicians, heard everything. Open-minded, young, and easy-going that she was, Tessa was an adaptable individual and the desire to be immersed in each moment ran deep in her. In childhood, her parents would say that a wide variety of subjects interested her, and hence she would try her hands at many different things and she was always interested in learning about as many subjects as she could, but in contrast, she's also found stuck in a fixed routine studying doggedly to become a doctor that she was now found to be doing.

"Who the hell gave the orders?" The furious president was struggling with words. Too weak to stand up he managed to stare at the General who was standing beside Doctor Tessa Lopez and the other attending physicians. For some reason, the execution was a total disaster, creating new problems. Instead of getting answers, he was asking more questions, probing, and digging. But would he ever learn who had ordered the execution?

"Please Sir you're still very weak. Here, let me help you go back to your bed" said Doctor Tessa Lopez.

The President sat up, struggling to balance on the bed with his two hands. His eyes penetrated deeply into his wife and the general. "Tell me honestly, General. Who planned the execution without my order?" He shouted at the top of his voice.

The First lady who was watching silently at the sides finally commented, "The security of the country is foremost, my dear husband. He was a threat and you know that. If he stayed longer the opposition would be able to fortify their position and become stronger. You know how popular the person was. We were worried that this would happen." Her voice was that of a little girl who wanted to explain a minor misdemeanor. That pretty little girl from the province had grandiose dreams in her youth. She wanted to travel around the world, and become famous and rich. She had thought she could use her pretty face to change the life she detested. Ambitious as she was, envy was her twin sister. One time a neighbor bought a new car. She had seen it through her window and soon jealousy crept into her being. She told herself that one day she would also buy her car.

"My dear husband, why worry when you have your health to worry about first? Let General Ver and me take care of everything. You will see how everything would come out fine as you wish."

She wanted everything. She did buy her car, not only one but so many cars of all brands that caught her fancy. Once when asked how rich she was, her answer was a stunning one. She said that if you knew how rich you were then you weren't rich at all. She became very rich. She was one of the richest women in the world in her time. Not only that, she became so rich her greed bordered on lust. Her charm and a deceitful smile came in handy for her disproportionate ambition.

Her ascension would have been a valid climb from nothing to riches if she had done it honestly. Her accumulation of wealth was at the expense of her people. She doggedly followed Machiavelli's tactics to have all she desired, claiming whatever she lusted for, including properties legitimately owned by people.

Much more, she was so ambitious to want to get rid of anybody who stood in her way. This included the elimination of potential opponents. The popular senator was one. This was what people saw. This was the reason people condemned her for the assassination.

She was that little girl who put ambition before everything else. She was that pretty girl whose twin sister was envy.

"I had some plans . . . Plans short of doing it the way it was done. What will our friends say now, the whole world? Everybody would say that I ordered it!" An ashtray thudded on the wall between the General and the First Lady, then fell and crashed on the floor. It was a show of outburst and dislike of what had been done. The president was fuming mad and everybody in the room fell silent.

A young maid promptly came in to pick up the broken pieces on the floor, then left in a hurry.

Once, in high school, the General was hit by a basketball on the face. He had collapsed, his head ached, blood came streaming out and he thought he had lost his nose. He felt the same way now. But this time, it was his face that he had lost and he became smaller than he used to be.

"Leave me. All of you out!" the strong man's voice resonated in the palace; his face wrinkled with great disappointment. What was happening to his rule? Now that he was ill everything seemed to be going the other way.

Everybody left the room including his physicians. They dispersed, marching out of the Palace one by one after witnessing the conversation that would lead to the big puzzle.

The General and the First Lady were left behind in the hall.

"I'm worried, madam. His skin is getting dry and rough." The General's voice was that of a little boy who had been punished for misbehaving.

"That is because of medication. Let's hope he'll survive longer. And during that transition I want you to find a way to protect our interests, General."

"You know my loyalty, madam. It's always been with you since the beginning."

"Now, calm down. Contact all our men in the Press. Tell them to suppress the news to give us time to think and plan the next move."

"I have done that already, madam. In fact, outbound, international flights have already been suspended. Operations should resume immediately."

"How about the local Press, have we done something?

"I already gave some instructions to my men. But we can't keep it any longer from the people. You know how the opposition and the media work, madam."

In going out of the Palace, General Ver was contemplating deeply, head stooped, his eyes on the floor. I have never been so right in my decisions. What went wrong? he asked himself.

His other self, his conscience, pierced into his reasoning. It contradicted him. It nagged him. You have never been right in your actions, the human rights violations and all of those, which are now catching up on you. You have done all things wrongly ever since without somebody correcting you, over. and over, so that somehow you have accepted them as right. You thought they were correct. What you have done was blatantly wrong, and could never be right. And this would torment you all your life.