Sunday, June 26, 2011

I'll title this properly later or something

Too tired right now.

Notes To Self:
Do not piss of local law enforcement.
Dande is not good. Probably should investigate further.
Anyone who wears a suit in the jungle and does not seem to feel discomfort despite said conditions is probably not to be trusted. Outside of the obvious.

It's been a long week.

You never expect that you're going to get shot at when you visit a local charity. There's something in the word "charity" that makes you expect a helping hand, or assistance. Not a large man in a suit grinning at you with several heavily armed gunmen to each side. Luckily no tall men with no faces in suits. Just ones with gunmen. Actually, maybe not too lucky. Misfortune shouldn't be measured up to misfortune, it's all bad. It's a bit too hot to be typing but I gotta get this down on paper.

Simone and I broke into their building. I guess that was our first mistake-- my first mistake. There weren't any alarms, and at the time it wasn't well guarded. We were looking for some financial papers to corroborate what we learned about Dande's affiliation with the local and state governments. The headquarters seem to be the remains of a school that has been rebuilt for the purposes of a bureaucracy. After opening several locked doors we found a room filled with filing cabinets, assumed to be an office of some sort. I was looking through their returns and payments whilst Simone checked through the other papers that were in this desk area. We made several worrying discoveries. The papers being sent to the other aid agencies, NGO's, government agencies and the UN have been meddled with. The number of children in Dande's count doesn't match the information it has been sending to these organizations-- it says there are fewer children in the town than there actually are. This has been repeated within reports for several other townships. Unfortunately, after looking over these papers things went awry.

Okay, out of my lawyer voice. Who the fuck gave these bastards flamethrowers? Please. Someone tell me. Oh wait, I funded this entire goddamn system based on the trade of illegal weaponry in order to post on this blog that I keep incase I end up a corpse (likely due to the use of illegal weaponry.) Simone ran off, and I got set on fire (luckily just on the arm because I really don't think I could get good care for first degree burns out here). By the time managed to put out the fire I had been surrounded by the guards. I was taken by the boss. Picture one of those plastic dough bags squeezed into a suit, chewing a cigar. That's this boss. He looked like a melted snowman. The man told me "They'll be his by next month," and threw me out.

I've been trying to do something about it. But I have no idea what to do.

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