Remember, a Headpeacekeeper might need to make an arrest at any moments notice ...
When I open the door, I see who it is. A boy, probably in his teenage years, dressed in coal stained clothes. His hair is blacker than coal, his skin is tanned (probably a result of how hot District 12 gets in the warmer seasons), and his grey eyes are widened in terror and fear. It is clear that he was expecting Cray. In any case, I do not fail to note the turkey the boy wears around his belt. He is clearly a poacher, and therefore a criminal.
He is surprised, so taking advantage of this I pull out my handgun and level it at his head.
"Down on your knees with your hands behind your head! You're under arrest for poaching."
He gets down on his knees, and I walk behind him so as to handcuff him.
"Please, I didn't do anything wrong."
"Poaching is illegal, as is leaving the fence."
"I didn't leave the fence. The turkey got in somehow, and I killed it with a stick."
"That's still poaching, now shut up before I use this gun to shut you up forever."
If you threaten someone sufficiently, he will comply with your demand. This means you do not need to carry out the threat if you have moral or rational qualms over them.
He gets down on his knees and is quiet.
I pull his hands down behind his back, and place the handcuffs on them. After calling in more Peacekeepers to meet me in the District Square, and ordering the ones in Cray's house to continue collecting evidence, I decide carry out justice myself.
A good idea is to preform the first public punishment personally, as it hammers down the point that you are serious about enforcing the laws.
I ask an Old Garrison Peacekeeper, a woman named Purnia, to find information as to whether this boy is a passed offender. When she returns, she tells me he has no record of past offense.
"Alright then, what is the usual punishment for first offense poachers?"
"About twenty lashes."
"Well, Cray is gone. The legal precedent dictates that it be no less than forty lashes."
It is clear Purnia is trying to keep her disagreement from exploding. Well, the Old Garrison will get used to proper rule sooner or later.
"Isn't that a bit much, sir?"
"In District 11, a poacher like him would have received one hundred and eighty lashes. If anything, I'm being merciful."
Remember, while you will need to use force to keep people in line, you should only use as much force as necessary to ensure none of it is wasted. If you use excessive force in one situation, you might not have enough left for the next situation.
When I ran District 11, the punishment for first offense poaching was fifty lashes. He person who ruled it after me raised it to one hundred lashes. Clark must have decided that was too soft a punishment, as she gradually raised it to one hundred and eighty lashes. Granted these are broken up into three bouts of sixty lashes per time, so most people survive. I do not criticize Clark for her severity, for the sole reason that it works.
Still, this poacher will probably be ungrateful about the leniency of his punishment. No matter; I would not have gotten to the rank of Headpeacekeeper if I cared what petty criminals thought of me.
When flogging a criminal, be sure to do so in such a way as to ensure he or she is punished sufficiently proportional to his or her crime.
One of the New Peacekeepers rips the convicts shirt off. Using a three pronged whip, I deliver the first flog.
Make sure the flails of the whip hit the back, as hitting the legs or arms runs the risk or cutting a tendon or slitting a wrist.
It cuts through his back.
I swing again, and he is bleeding.
On the third swing, he cries out in pain. It is a terrible, agonizing wail; despite this I continue.
When administering flogging, it is important not to pause or hesitate. Doing so will only result in the condemned suffering further. It is cruel not to flog him at a steady rate.
I swing again, and again, and again. Blood is running down his back, and he is sobbing in agony.
I continue to swing and he falls unconscious.
Then one of the Old Garrison Peacekeepers walks up to me. At first I did not notice him, but when he is close enough I stop flogging the boy and I turn to hear what he has to say.
Remember, you should give the Old Garrison the benefit of the doubt that they only acted corrupt/disorganized as a result of poor leadership. However, you should still keep your guard up as Old Garrison members may try to subvert your efforts.
"Sir, I think this is enough. If you continue, you could risk killing him."
"The law states that a poacher needs to be flogged forty times; he has only had twenty five lashes. Whether or not he can take it is not our concern."
Besides, I've seen people of similar health survive worse floggings and so seriously doubt that a young man like this would perish after just forty.
I raise my hand to continue, but the red haired Peacekeeper grabs my wrist. In his eyes is a frantic look.
"Stop, can't you see he's dying!?"
You must be cautious, as someone desperate enough may attempt to frag you.
I do not know if he will reach for his gun, to use it to kill me, but I do not give him the chance.
With my free arm, I punch him square in the temple. I do this with enough strength to knock him out cold. He falls to the ground, and blood begins to pool at his feet.
I turn to one of the Peacekeepers surrounding me. "Get a medic, and if he's still alive than send him to the brig."
For your personal safety, be sure to keep yourself diligent in your daily practice and exercise. It could save your life one day.
I turn to swing at the boy chained to the flogging post, again and again and again.
Soon I count thirty one lashes, than someone else interrupts me.
"No!"
A girl, probably this boys cousin or even his sister, jumps in front of him just as I am bringing the whip down. It hits her in the face.
The fool falls to her knees and screams, "Stop it! You'll kill him!"
I am aware that there is something uncanny about this person; I am sure I have seen her before but I can not for the life of be figure out where. I transfer my whip to my left hand, and for my right I begin to reach for my baton so as to shoo her away or knock her out.
"Hold it." For fucks sake, what now?
In comes that alcoholic fool who won the second Quarter Quell and promptly proceeded to squander his winnings on liquor. Very different from Brutus, Enobaria, and the other victors who actually make use of their winnings.
But I still do not see what he wants or why he cases about a poacher?
He pulls her to her feet, but neither of them get out of the way of the poacher. "Oh, excellent. She's got a photo shoot next week modeling wedding dresses. What am I supposed to tell her stylist?"
It is at this point that I remember who she is. She is Katniss Everdeen, she is the rabble rousing demagogue who is causing riots in several of the Production Districts and openly defying the National Government. President Snow himself warned me in advance that she would be a cause of problems.
Remember, nobody is exempt from the law. Not a Victor, not the Mayor, not even a Headpeacekeeper. Enforce the law, no matter who is breaking it.
"She interrupted the punishment of a confessed criminal."
"I don't care if she blew up the blasted Justice Building! Look at her cheek! Think that will be camera ready in a week?"
Ok, this really pisses me off. Not just his insolence, but e fact that he uses the words 'blow up the justice building'. When I was Headpeacekeeper of District 3, someone actually did suicide bomb the justice building. The only reason I survived is because I was bedridden with fever and therefore absent when the bomb went off. Still, it would not be fair to take this out on drunky; he doesn't know about that.
"That's not my problem."
"No? Well, it's about to be, my friend. The first call I make when I get home is to the Capitol, find out who authorized you to mess up my victor's pretty little face!"
I actually hope he does call the Capitol with the intent of getting me in trouble; good luck with that. It will be my word against Everdeen's and President Snow already thinks she's a public menace.
I give a curt response, "He was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?"
Yet another person walks up, this time it is a blond haired boy.
"He's her cousin. And she's my fiancé. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us."
My right hand falls to my handgun, and I feel the handle. In a few seconds, I could have all three of these Victors killed. It would be easy, and in fact I want nothing more than to end their miserable lives right here and right now. If it were not for them, Clove would still be alive: right now I have the ability to avenge her. But ...
It is not right to summarily execute three people just because I hate them. If I did that, I would be breaking the law and to do that would be to go against everything I spent my entire life believing in. All the hard work to reach the top of my class in Peacekeeper Training, all the promotions and honors I earned, all the districts I reigned in, all of that would have been for nothing.
Clove would not want me to dishonor myself and my family, especially not in her name.
This is the most important thing to remember: you are stationed in your district to act as an enforcer of the law. It is absolutely vital that you restrain all emotion in your service, allowing neither personal vendetta nor prejudice to influence your behavior.
It takes every single ounce of restraint and strength in me to resist shooting Katniss dead.
I look behind me at the Peacekeeper Squad nearby. Some of them are new, but the rest are of old garrison. One of them, a woman named Purnia, addresses me.
"I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad."
I wait for a few seconds, listening to my own breathing.
"Is that standard protocol here?"
"Yes, sir."
I look out at the crowd that is watching us, they look petrified as they cower in fear. It is clear that the point I was hoping to make has sufficiently been made.
When I speak, I speak loud enough that they can also hear me.
"Very well. Get your cousin out of here, then, girl. And if he comes to, remind him that the next time he poaches off the Capitol's land, I'll assemble that firing squad personally."
I clean the blood off my whip (getting it on the three Victors), and wait for them to untie the unconscious poacher. They carry him away, and when I look into the crowd I can see that they got the message.
Not even a Victor's cousin is immune to the law.