White alabaster pillars stood up like ageless monoliths, sepulchers hungry for bureaucracy. Father Gara hurt his neck, craning to look at them. The Commission's signature, emblazoned lettering, shining through like gold in the afternoon haze could be seen from the interstate almost ten kilometers away. It lit the way for the wayward city of New Angels.
Grumbling, he was desperate for intervention. Sodder was coming to kill him. Why? to settle a debt for his younger brother. The police were apathetic to help him, so he aimed to consult the wings of his own organization. He had served in The Commission for nearly 50 years, starting as a page at age 5. They wouldn't dare turn him down. No, not the most respected man in the southern branch.
Cold air brushed upon his face, circulating ad infinitum. He took a number. Forty minutes later, a small asian woman wearing thickly framed maroon glasses took him down lengthy corridors, the inner sanctum. It was the finest of bureaucracies.
After sitting down at the desk he stared into the woman sitting across from him, smiling like a shark. Her name was generic, unnoticed. She would be there a long time. Reaching across the desk she limply took his hand and shook it, professional, yet uncommitted.
"Father Gara, Sanction Supreme of district 8, how are you today?" she began, slowly reciting his title with particular emphasis on the number "8."
"Eh," he shrugged, I've been better. I have a problem that needs handling."
"Regarding Singe?" she inquired, immediately. The file was already in her hands, as if conjuring it by magic. "He was an official sanction. You've done nothing wrong."
"I know," Father Gara said reassuringly, holding up his hand. "But now his brother is trying to kill me... this guy, Sodder."
"Yes, the car bombing. We took note of that, did our due diligence to apprehend the suspects. But retaliation is to be expected Father Gara," she reminded him. "Do you have a problem with this?"
"Well... I" he stuttered, "I don't see how that..."
"That is your signature," she said, handing him a yellowed document, worn with considerable age, "Is it not?"
"It is," Father Gara affirmed, growing agitated. "I was five years old for Christ sakes... You can't be..."
"Then we cannot do anything," she continued without missing a beat. "I'm sorry. Commission Resource can only do what is within the law."
Father Gara, speechless, shook his head angrily and stood up abruptly.
"20 years of payin' dues. This is the respect I get?" he shouted, pointing his crooked finger at her face. Blankly, she stared back at him, then stood up. Putting her hands on her hips she leaned into him seductively and pushed him back into the wall behind him.
"Are you threatening am agent of The Commission, Father Gara? I cannot help you. That is all. Good day."
"Good day, huh?" Father Gara said slowly. "Fine... that's just fine..."
Father Gara left the room, shutting the door behind him.