Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) (23 page)

X was downtrodden when
he pulled his truck to the meeting spot and only saw three others there to
greet him. Only Dopey, Sugar, and Pinkie were there waiting on him. He got out
of the truck and slammed the door shut behind him. The others had a look of
concern on their faces when they noticed his limp as he walked towards them.
They all offered their help to him, but X waved them off. Just like everything
else in life, he would take care of himself by himself.

“Have you guys heard
from anyone else?” X asked instead of accepting help.

“No,” Dopey said, with
his head slightly down.

“It’s been way too
long to have not heard something.” X replied. “We’ve got to prepare ourselves
for the worst.”

“Which is?” Pinkie
wondered.

“That they all died
trying to get here.”

With those words,
there was instant silence as the truth of the statement began to sink in. X
didn’t want to believe it, either. As much as he butted heads with Reed and
others in the group over the months that they were together, they were still
his family. One of the life lessons he learned over the years was that you don’t
mess with someone’s family. When you started to mess with it that was when
things started to get real ugly.

The moment of silence
became interrupted by the pair of headlights penetrating the darkness. X looked
to the car that pulled up, hoping that it was another one of his friends.
However, they all started to draw their weapons at the sight of the Agent who
paid them a visit several weeks ago.

Sullivan saw them
drawing their weapons, so as he approached, he drew his Glock, too. He didn’t
see Reed with them and he felt at that moment that his day was going to from
bad to worse.

“Is this all that made
it?” Sullivan called out. “Where’s Reed?”

X, Colt drawn, limped
forward to Sullivan. “He must be dead. Do we have you to thank for that?”

“Of course not!’
Sullivan replied. “I was the one who tipped him off!”

“Sure you did, Puerco.
Or, maybe you orchestrated this whole night just to pick us off. Not gonna
happen.”

“That’s funny, when
the USR tried to kill me tonight, too.”

“Nobody believes your
lies!” X cried.

“You know what?”
Sullivan said. He lowered his gun and then threw it to the ground. With his
hands placed behind his head, he continued. “They’ve got my son, all right? If
you want to kill me, just go ahead and do it.”

Sullivan closed his
eyes, got on his knees, and waited. Meanwhile, X aimed the Colt for a perfect
shot right between the eyes. He heard some rumblings from the others and the
leaves under their feet rustled as they approached. They were all looking up to
X now as their leader until if, and a big if at that, Reed showed up again.

While Sullivan waited,
there was a conflict of emotions going on in his head. A part of him wanted the
man to pull the trigger. Not that he was suicidal, but because he failed his
son, and for that, he did deserve death. However, he did want to find him, he
had to find him and rescue his boy from the schools. They would brainwash Davie
into becoming something that Sullivan did not want him to become. He tried so
hard, even when he was still a full on Agent, to make something better for him.
Being a USR lackey wasn’t what he had in mind for that.

“Come on,” Dopey said
with his gun drawn. “Let’s hear him out. What could it hurt?”

“What could it hurt?”
X replied with his eyes still on his target. “He could rip us apart from the
inside.”

“Does it really look
like we haven’t already been ripped apart?”

X took that point into
consideration as he lowered his weapon. All the men at his side lowered their
weapons in unison. X offered his hand to Sullivan. In a fit of shock, Sullivan
didn’t know what to do at first. He stared at the hand for a moment and
wondered if this was all for real or not. Finally, he took the hand and X
helped him up to his feet. The former Agent then brushed off the debris from
his pants.

“Thanks,” Sullivan
said as he brushed.

“Don’t thank me, yet.”
X replied. “You’ve still got to prove to me that this was the right decision.”

“Who knows what’s
right anymore?”

“What’s your plan? Why
are trying to use us?”

Sullivan shook his
head. “I’m not trying to use you. I’m simply trying to figure out a way to find
my son. I know that you all have access to USR systems on some level. I’ll
fight with you so long as I can find my son.”

“Okay,” X said with a
nod. “We can always use an extra gun, especially when we’re down like we are
now. But, if I even think that you are selling our secrets to the USR, I will
put a bullet in you, understood?” 

“You have my word.”

Dopey move in beside
X. “What’s the game plan now?”

“We go to meet up with
Statue. He should be delivering the goods now.” 

“What about your leg?”

“The leg’s fine,
Dopey. Let’s just head out. You,” X said as he pointed at Sullivan. “You’re in
the truck with me. You can leave your car here. No telling if the USR has your
car bugged or not.”

Sullivan smirked, “How
do you know that your cars aren’t bugged?”

“We’ve checked them,
but don’t have time to run a scan on yours. Get in the truck or stay here. Your
choice.”

Sullivan didn’t have a
choice at all. He simply nodded his head and did as told.

Kaspar looked down at
the yellow shard of fabric in his hand. It had been attached to his flak jacket
ever since his first mission against the USR. He thought about what it meant.
How it was a reminder of Mother. How she was taken away from him by the USR.
The mere thought of ever being happy again with her loss would have seemed
ridiculous. Then, he met Krys. She showed him how to live, taught him what love
really was, and completed his life. Now, she too was taken by the USR. It
seemed like an endless spiral. Whoever he could get close to would be taken
away.

He attached the yellow
fabric back to his flak jacket and set the Kevlar vest to the side. As he sat
on the pallet of blankets by himself, nothing but thoughts of Krys filled his
mind. No amount of mental preparation could have prepared him for the emptiness
he felt without her here. There was a sense of denial deep inside that he still
felt. He just knew that, at any moment, Krys would walk into the tent and ask
him why he was being such a bitch. The thought of the playful insults she would
throw at him from time to time caused a rare smile to grow on his face. There
were only a few ways to keep her alive in his heart and one of them was to
never forget anything about her.

Kaspar stood and stretched
out his back. There were rumblings going around that the resistance would be
plotting their next move and fast. The mystery of what this big mission would
be that Harvey hinted at kept him going for the short term. He was anxious to
get moving with the next thing if for nothing else but to get his mind away
from her.

According to the news
broadcasts, which who could really trust those, the USR discovered that the
resistance threat was far worse than anyone imagined. The military was called
in to help with the problem and they took out several resistance members last
night. They posted all of their faces on the screen one at time. However, they
also said that there were some who escaped and they had evidence that the
threat was growing. The military would now be working in unison with the police
forces to ensure the citizen’s safety. Kaspar thought about what Harvey said
about this big mission. He said that things would get worse, but Kaspar
couldn’t imagine it getting much worse than the footage he had seen already.

Whatever the case was,
Kaspar knew that he would be ready.

***

“It’s unfortunate that
this had to happen,” Sanders said, looking down at his large computer monitor.
“But, at least this has shocked others into action.”

“Yeah,” Harvey replied.

Ever since the
government controlled news agencies reported of the resistance members who were
killed, several of the rebel leaders around the country who initially said no
were changing their minds. This latest development almost hurt Harvey on the inside
watching what was happening. Did it always take something terrible happening to
move good men to do the right thing? Was this even about doing the right thing
or was it all about revenge for the resistance killings? These questions haunted
him and he didn’t have an answer for them. He certainly didn’t share Sanders’s
apparent enthusiasm for the events that unfolded.

Harvey was learning
more and more things about Sanders as time went by. For himself, Harvey was
never a believer in the old phrase that the ends justified the means. He always
saw that quote as pure bull. His partner, however, he seemed relish in it.
Every time the USR made a move on the innocents, he got excited. It seemed to
give the old war veteran a sense of justification for fighting back. The fact
that the USR destroyed the foundations of America was enough justification for
Harvey.

“You’re doing it
again.” Sanders commented.

“What?” Harvey
demanded.

“You’re getting all
blue on me.”

“I don’t share your
enthusiasm. We lost good men. The innocent civilians out there are going to be
the ones to suffer.”

“Look at the bright
side, though. We’ve got some more help for this thing. We might not have gotten
this kind of help without it.”

“I understand that,
but we shouldn’t celebrate it like it’s a victory.”

“I don’t see it as a
victory, you hear me?” Sanders’s face turned red to match the red scar on his
head. “This is a tragedy, no doubt about that. Yes, the innocents will suffer,
but if this is what it takes to shake our allies into action then so be it.”

“All right,” Harvey
said. “Let’s just move on with our strategy.”

“Agreed.”

The two military minds
sat down in front of one of the laptops and discussed their views how their
plan could be a success. They also discussed the help that would be coming in.
Overall, the estimated total of rebels who would be somewhere above one
hundred. It was lower than Sanders would have liked, but Harvey felt that they
could work with that. That number was certainly better than what they had
before the events of last night. A fact that Sanders liked to throw down
Harvey’s throat even after they agreed to disagree.

“We’ll be meeting up
with several of them tomorrow night,” Sanders went on. “I’ve talked with a few
squads based in the Midwest today. They’ll be ready to meet here.”

Sanders pointed on his
screen to a glowing dot on the map. Harvey nodded in agreement.

“Sounds good,” Harvey
replied.

“The others on the
east coast, obviously, will be headed straight for the Capitol.”

“What about those on the
west coast?”

“Afraid that we don’t
have that much support past the Midwest. Those on the West are focused on their
own battles. It would cost them too much to move across the country. We’ll have
to do without them. But, they are planning on getting together to plan their
own Op in the near future. They are concerned about this threat, too.”

“What do you think our
chances are?” Harvey asked.

It took Sanders a
moment to answer that question. Harvey could see the wheels turning inside of
the old man’s head. The movements of his eyes gave that away. He started to rub
at his chin and the wheels seemed to turn faster. For Harvey’s part, he thought
that their chances were moderate, but not enough for him to feel comfortable
about a full on victory.

“I think we can do
this,” Sanders replied. “We’ve got good men fighting for us. It’s going to be a
tough one, but I like our chances.”

Harvey wished he was
as confident.

Masters stood outside
the door of a nice, red brick townhouse in the suburbs. The morning sun had
risen and was almost to the top of the sky. This was different, he thought as
he watched the two combat jeeps move up and down the street, complete with a
soldier on each manning the .50’s on top. Usually, they were in the inner city,
cleaning up the trash that infested there. Now, they were called to the places
where the more upper echelon of the population lived. To him, he didn’t care,
he was anxious to do his duty.

The soldiers under his
command seemed ready, too. His number one was banging on the door next him
while Masters waited with his G36 rested in both hands. The soldier was on his
third round of the bangs when he turned to Masters and shook his head. Masters
was about ready to call for the breach when the door finally opened. The instant
it did, his men moved in so fast that the woman who opened it was knocked to
ground.

Masters moved in last
as his men went to work. There wasn’t even a thought to helping the woman, who
was in her mid-thirties, up to her feet. She seemed well enough to do it
herself. The woman had that same scared look on her face that the decorated USR
soldier had grown accustomed to. As she rose to her feet, she wiped away the
blood which leaked from her lips. The bitch must’ve bit her bottom lip on the
way down. Masters also noticed that she was too scared to scream. She just kept
staring, the fear was in her eyes, so that at least gave him some satisfaction.

Over to his left,
Masters caught sight of a little boy. The boy stood there, coming up to
Masters’s knees, and looked upward. There was no emotion on the boy’s face. He
was holding a teddy bear close to his chest. After a moment, Masters allowed a
grin to creep along his lips. The boy, too young to know what was going on,
smiled back up. Masters reached down and rubbed at the boy’s hair. After that,
he looked back over to the woman, who managed to get back to her feet. Tears
ran down her face now.

A loud commotion that
came from upstairs broke the silence. By the sounds of a man shouting out
curses, Masters assumed that his men found the mark they were looking for. The
woman cried “no” as the man, with a soldier on each side, was dragged down from
the stairs and through the living room. Masters shouldered his G36 and pointed
it at the woman. She assumed the position, getting down to her knees, and
putting her hands behind her lowered head.

“This is a fucking
sham!” the man yelled as he was dragged out the front door. “Honey, I will get
home soon!”

“I love you!” the
woman cried.

Masters moved over to
the woman. With her head lowered, she could see his military boots. She moved
her head upward at the sight and made eye contact once again. Masters raised
his left hand and then backhanded the woman across her cheek. Her mouth stayed
wide open in shock.

“I didn’t give you
permission to speak,” Masters said. “You take care of your boy, now.”

When the Lieutenant
walked out, he slammed the door shut behind him. With his G36 now across his
chest, he made his way to the armored van which would transport their prisoners
to their destination. Masters didn’t know all the details, but like a good
soldier, he carried out his orders. It didn’t make a lick of sense to him to
take citizens who actually made some sort of contribution to society away, but
orders were orders. So long as he got some killing in, or at least got to rough
up a few of them, that was all he cared about.

The soldiers who
dragged the man opened the back doors and threw him inside. There were already
seven men crammed on the inside. The back doors slammed shut leaving the men,
scared out of their own minds, alone in the darkness to think about what would
come next. There would be no way for them to even guess. They were already in
pure shock to be taken from their homes without notice.

Masters watched the van
take off as he reached for his walkie. He punched in the correct codes and got
patched in with Blackman.

“Sector eight a
success,” Masters said into the black device. “Moving on to Sector nine.”

“Good job, Masters.”
Blackman replied. “Any problems?”

Masters rubbed at his
forehead with his free forearm. “None to report. This mission is for panty
waists. Don’t you think that with my expertise I could be doing something more
vital?”

“This mission is
vital, Lieutenant.”

“How vital?”

There was a pause.
“You know I can’t tell you that. It’s of the utmost secrecy. Just know that you
are serving the USR with this mission.”

“Understood,” Masters
said with a sigh. “We’re moving out to the next Sector.”

***

The sun was nearly
finished with its decent behind the tall buildings of Caine’s city. He looked
down to see the little ants scurry about to their cars, cabs, buses, whatever
their form of transportation for getting home would be. A buzzing noise from
his desk shook him out of his trance. Caine walked over to the desk and pushed
the red button underneath.

“Yes?” Caine said with
a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Sir, this is General
Blackman, may I have a word?”

“Come on in.”

With a press of the
green button, the doors unlocked. The loud sound of the clicks let Blackman
know it was okay to enter. A moment too soon and the electroshock from the door
handles would put him on his ass. Once inside, Blackman saluted his leader, who
gave him a halfhearted salute back. Caine reached underneath his desk for his
smuggled whiskey. After he poured himself a shot, he offered one to Blackman,
who declined. Caine shrugged his shoulders and then took the shot in one quick
swig. The burn of the alcohol felt good going down. Soon, the effects of the
bourbon would calm his nerves.

“What can I help you
with, General?”

Blackman cleared his
throat. He still got nervous every time he talked to Caine. “I wanted to fill
you in on what happened today.”

“Go ahead.”

“All the Sectors you
provided for us were cleaned out. We got all the names on the list imprisoned
except for one.”

“Who would that be?”

Blackman pulled out an
index card and searched for the last remaining name that hadn’t been crossed
out from that particular Sector. Age was getting to the old General, no way in the
past he would forget a name like that. Sloppiness was something that he never
tolerated as a military leader, but that was what was happening to him. It
caused a feeling of disgust followed by disappointment.

“William Sullivan,”
Blackman replied.

“I sent a spy after
him. I added him to the list just in case.”

“I understand. We
found your spy dead on the floor. Four shots to the head. Looks like the poor
bastard was knee capped as well.”

“I see. And, he’s
nowhere to be found?”

“No, sir. His vehicle was
missing. No traces.”

Caine nodded his head.
These spies he sent out were always a wildcard. Some of them were coolly
efficient. Give them a job and they completed it then moved on to the next job.
Simple as that. But, there were also the occasional ones like Little.

 Caine had high hopes
for the youngster. He seemed to have a knack for this sort of thing. The
reports he would give were detailed enough. After three successful kills before
the other night, this one was looking like another success. The fact that
Little didn’t report in wasn’t that much of a concern, at least not until now.
He was supposed to work in secrecy. Caine assumed that the spy just moved on to
wait for his next assignment.

“Well,” Caine said, “I
guess that’s what I get for sending in a spy to do the military’s work.”

Blackman grinned,
“Yes, sir.”

“That Sullivan didn’t
go check on his son, either. If he had, he’d be Swiss cheese right now.”

“Sullivan, that name
sounds familiar.”

“It should. He took
part in a kill operation that led one of Paxton’s recruits to you.”

Blackman searched his
mind then let out another grin. He remembered that kid whose mother had been
killed. “That’s right, now I remember. What happened to him?”

“He went off the deep
end…beyond salvage.”

“It pains me to see
good men go that route.”

“There are no good men
out there.”

Caine pointed to the
window and Blackman nodded in acknowledgement. After that, the secret USR
leader reached down for another shot. Once again he offered Blackman a shot,
but the offer was again declined. Caine shook his head and told himself that it
wasn’t worth losing his temper over. If the old man in front of him didn’t want
to accept, well, that was his Goddamn loss. After he took the shot, the effects
from the first started to kick in, with his body starting rise in temperature.
He was going to have to call in one his dames so this Blackman needed to hurry
the fuck up. He leaned back and looked straight at the ceiling.

“Can I ask you
something, sir?” Blackman asked.

“Anything.”

“This new operation…is
it really necessary?”

Caine’s head shot down
and his eyes lasered in on Blackman’s. “The fuck did you just say?”

Blackman held up his
right hand. “I’m just asking.”

“Of course it’s
necessary. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It just seems,
according to those under me, like a waste of good manpower.”

“You let me be the
judge of that.” Caine reached under the desk. The comment forced another swig.
“You just keep doing what you’re told.”

“Do you ever feel
guilty about the things we do?”

Caine took yet another
shot then slammed the glass down on the desk. “Do you
want
to be
executed?”

“No, sir, of course
not. Just asking you, man to man.”

“I think this
conversation is over. You can see your way out. It concerns me to hear you
talking like this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Blackman gave another
salute which was not answered by Caine. The old General simply bowed his head,
turned, then walked out the door. Once out, Caine picked up his red phone. He
told the female voice on the other line to come up to his office alone. While
he waited for his mistress, hoping that he wasn’t too drunk for a hard on, he
thought about what Blackman asked him. The only feeling of guilt he felt was
that the world had gotten as bad as it had. The world needed men like him to
teach what was right. He briefly thought about issuing a kill order on
Blackman, but then decided against it.

Blackman would be
needed. For now.