The police force we’d instated trained at the Yamen for an hour every day. Mostly running and lifting and practicing throwing and falling. It was getting dark, but I made my way down there, moving quickly and feeling light on my feet despite the weight of the gun and the knife. With every step, I could feel the gun dig into my stomach, and I did my best to ignore it.
The Yamen was full of people, and I found our officers squatting on ledges and smoking.
“What’s this?” I said.