The Do-It-Yourself Model
Snow fell when Hamon Lasser died. He marked the 100th homicide since the beginning of the year two months ago. Execution style, Hamon received a bullet at the base of his skull. This Wilmington, Delaware winter would prove to be one of the bloodiest on record. And all of this was due not to illicit drug sales or gangs. Instead of recognizing the do-it-yourself model of death, these victims fell due to the euthanasiasts.
A Cold, Hard Killer
“Hi, I’m a cold, hard killer as the newspeople enjoy saying. But truly, I’m a helper. I extend my expertise snuffing out lives to ease the pain and agony of living on the earth. I enjoy my work and know it pays well. I arrive in your neighborhood and take in the sorrow and misfortune most associated with inner city dwellings.
“I’ve assessed Wilmington and have noted the strife which the denizens experience on a daily basis. These young Black men who seem to only feel their way through life, unthinking and focused on nothing but destruction actually would be the best candidates for suicide. In order to satisfy their faith which states that they must not kill themselves under any circumstances due to edicts handed down by their God. That's where I enter. If they don’t wish to do themselves in, then I will end their lives gladly.” The man speaking these words , Cassius Harkley, peered into the camera and drew vapors from his e-cigarette. Dressed in a starched prison uniform, Harkley displayed the panache of a fighter pilot but lacking the qualities to defend a nation. He possessed a disarming glance and a gapped tooth smile. He agreed to this interview a few weeks prior to the date. It would be just a few moments, which would be a fraction of the two consecutive life sentences he faced. His smile, frequent and indelible allowed people to at least for the moment, to lay to bed his many homicides.
“With Dyson Bullion,” the interviewer, Wynetta Toll started, “You spoke with him and arranged his slaying in advance. How did that encounter go?”
“It was laid out as a business plan. I stipulated my rates and proceeded to outline what would take place. Specifically, I said, ‘You know, I could just put in bullet in your brain and you won’t feel a thing.’”
The Weapon for the Task
Wynetta observed Harkley with a steady gaze and never broke her concentration.
“So, it’s like a business transaction...these killings?”
“I view them as such. I mean, I’m preventing a family from having to grieve and report these transactions as suicides. They ought to know that their loved one died not at their own hands, but by the deft precision of a professional.”
Wynetta shifted in her seat but she never took her eyes off of Harkley. He continued.
“You see, in the white community, they have left God for society and are just unafraid to extinguish themselves. The fear of God still holds the minds of the Black populace. All that I do is allow the client the option of ensuring that his family second doesn’t have to second guess where he will spend eternity.”
“You make it sound so religious yet businesslike. What were you doing before this activity?”
“I was a congressman for the state of Delaware. I served two terms before finding killing to be my calling. I expected the worlds of politics and street justice to be dissimilar but found them to be more alike than not. I mean on a daily basis, you're involved with some of the most loathsome, vile serpents to ever slither their way up the political or literal avenue. But I figure that if you broke down just how many deaths that I encountered or participated in carrying out, my days representing this state far outweigh my dirty work in some of Wilmington’s grimiest neighborhoods. I remember one kid, a straight A student was gunned down by a stray bullet from this other kid, Conroy Pennett. He was so distraught over the slaying that he came to me and begged that I do what I do best. He said, ‘Just make it look like one of the Deadly Drones did it.’ He didn’t want to confront his family not only with the student’s death, but because he couldn’t handle living with his misdeed, he called me.”
The Way for Peace
Wynetta looked at her producer, Daniel Land. He motioned for her to dig more into Harkley's psyche.
“Another question. Did you ever experience regret over your past actions?”
Never. I view what I do with the same regard for any other technician or tradesman. I provide a service for the consumer. By not assigning suicide to the death of a Black in his neighborhood, I have increased the potential for Black Lives to truly Matter. The more the focus is put on the crime-ridden areas of Wilmington, the greater the chance for people to regard the destruction of lives as an eminent concern. I have been tasked with ensuring that Black suicides never reach the level of middle age, middle class white males. I’ll do everything I can to shield the Blacks in Wilmington from the onslaught of mass suicide. And I’ll do it one kill at a time.”
“I’ve noticed that you speak in the present tense when referring to these slayings, yet you are behind bars. What do you mean?
“Have you ever heard of still running things from the inside? I’ve got a shadow network of killers who strike upon request.” Harkley leaned back and smiled. “I’ve got it on lock while locked up,” he said.