An Act
an excerpt

All he had to do was to end it now, to take the conflict outside himself, to the source. He was State enemy, a criminal who deserved no less than death. To kill him would be an act of patriotism. As if in a dream, Sven rose. His right hand reached in his coat pocket. The weapon was withdrawn. He held an outstretched arm to his foe. A single bullet casing fell and hit the ground with a metallic strike. The bullet did what it had been made to do.

It was an act of patriotism.