Mr. Clarinet

"Vere—vere did you get this?"

"In your office."

"But—but—"

"Nice-looking girls. What are their names?"

Saggar looked at the picture and started to sob.

"Their names, captain?"

"If—if you—if you hurt any of uz dere vill be velly much trouble for you."

Paul beckoned the last man on the row to come over. He positioned him opposite Saggar, took a few steps back, drew his pistol, and shot the man through the temple. The soldier's body crumpled into a heap on the ground, blood geysering out of the hole in his head. Saggar cried out.

Paul holstered his pistol, walked over, and kicked the body to one side.

"What are your daughters' names, captain?"

"M-m-m-meena and Ssss-su-su-sunita."

"Meena?" Paul pointing to the picture. "The eldest? The one with the hairband?"

Saggar nodded.

"How old is she?"

"Th-thir-thirteen."

"Do you love her?"

"Yes."

"What would you do to me if I raped her?"

Saggar said nothing. He looked down at the ground.

"Don't look at your feet, captain—look at your daughter. Good. Now, imagine I raped your daughter. Can you?" Paul looked at the officer. "Picture the scene: me and my buddies are driving down the street one day. There are eight of us. We see Meena, walking, on her own. We stop and talk to her. We ask her to come for a ride with us. She refuses, but we take her anyway. Right there, in broad daylight, plenty of witnesses to identify us, but no one to stop us because we're in military uniform and we have guns.

"Oh, I forgot to mention this minor point—in our spare time we're UN peacekeeping troops. We're here to protect you. Only the people we're protecting are actually terrified of us. You know why? Because we're always snatching young girls like Meena off the street."

Saggar was looking back at the ground, head hung, shoulders slumped, stance crumbling: fear and guilt, but not yet resignation to his fate. He couldn't believe Paul was going to kill him and his men. That hadn't registered. Max knew he was. He'd given the leader of the gang that had kidnapped Manuela a similar speech. He'd used the guy's kid sister as an example, trying to throw the crime back in his face, personalize it, make him feel it, the damage, the pain. It hadn't gone to plan. The gang leader told Max he'd got so wasted on crack and PCP one time he'd fucked his kid sister in the ass. Five months later he'd started pimping her out to the local pedophile. Max had blown the motherfucker's brains out without regret or remorse.

"We drive your daughter to an isolated place. She's a brave girl—a gutsy girl—your daughter—Meena. She's a fighter. She bites one of my buddies, almost takes his finger off. So he caves her teeth in with his rifle butt. And then he grabs her by her ears and forces his cock down her throat while another of my guys holds his gun to her head. Everyone has their turn. Everyone except me and the driver. I'm above all that. You know, if I want pussy I put on two condoms and go to one of those Dominican whores near my barracks. As for the driver? He refuses to join in.

"When my guys are done in her mouth, they rape little Meena. Twice. Each. We take her virginity—we really rip the little bitch open, tear her apart inside. Literally. She's hemorrhaging. We notice—obviously. So what do we do? Stop and take her to a doctor? No. We turn her over and fuck her in the ass. Twice. Each. Then, you know what we do? We piss on her and drive off, looking for the next girl.

"Meena's found two days later. Nearly dead. Do you know how many stitches it takes, just to sew up her vagina? One hundred and eighty-three! And she's thirteen years old."

Saggar started crying.

"I-I-I…I didn't do anything," he whimpered.

"You stood by and let it happen. They're your men, under your command. One word from you and they would've stopped. You have to accept full responsibility."

"Look—report me to my superior. I sign confession. They vill—"

"—'Discipline you in accordance with UN military regulations'? ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING WAY!" Paul shouted. "The Le Fen family went to your superiors before they came to me. Did you know that? And what did your superiors do? They made you send a written apology to the family. So what'll they do this time? Sentence you to washing my car?"

"Please," Saggar said, falling to his knees. "Please don't kill me."

"If that had been your daughter you'd want to kill me, wouldn't you?"

"Please," he blubbered.

"Answer my question."

"I vood turn you over to justice," Saggar bawled.

"Do you know we have no laws here in Haiti? No laws for absolutely anything? Bill Clinton's torn up our Constitution so he can pay his Arkansas lawyer clique to write us a new one? So, while we're waiting for Bill to play Moses, why don't we give you some Bangladeshi justice? Tell me, captain. What is the penalty for rape in your country?"

Saggar didn't reply.