Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) (9 page)

He found Krys asleep
and curled up in their heavy sleeping bag when he entered. Kaspar tried to be
quiet as he moved in and started to take off his clothes. As excited as he was
about the news, he knew that she needed her rest. By accident, his foot rubbed
against her back, and he looked down to see if he had awoken her. She started
to move her head around and then moved her hair away from her eyes. She smiled
as she saw Kaspar move in towards the cot.

“Hey,” she said in a
hoarse voice.

“Hey, yourself.”
Kaspar replied. He couldn’t contain the grin on his own face.

“What’s that look
for?” Krys wondered with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing, it can
wait until morning.”

“Okay, keep your
secrets.” Krys replied.

They both laughed for
a moment until Krys started to cough violently. She leaned her head over the
side of thick blanket and reached for her bucket. When it was in line with her
mouth, she started to vomit. A lump started to develop in Kaspar’s throat which
forced him to swallow hard. He couldn’t stand to see her like this any longer. Once
this episode was over, he reached over to her a gripper her close.

“I can’t do this
anymore,” Krys said in a low screech as she tried to catch her breath. She was
crying. “I can’t, Ryan, I can’t…please just let me go.”

“I can’t do that. Not
yet.”

“Ryan, please, just…”

“Just wait until
morning, baby. Everything will be better.”

“You don’t know what
this is like.”

“I promise, I swear to
you, everything will be better in the morning.”

Krys gasped for breath
several times and calmed down. She began to recite something unclear to Kaspar
under her breath. Despite the urge, Kaspar didn’t say anything else to her, he
just held her. Her body was hot against his bare chest. Sweat from her hot skin
saturated his flesh as well. As he held her, the jerks in her breathing almost
forced tears into his eyes.

She cried for another
hour before she finally fell asleep. Every day and night with her outdid the
previous as being the darkest moments of his life. It wasn’t fair. Not fair to
him, but especially, not fair to Krys. She was the strongest, most head strong,
bravest person he ever met and now she was talking about giving in. Her
condition was now worse than ever.

Through it all, he
kept his arms wrapped around her, and somehow succumbed to sleep.

***

Harvey waited
impatiently for Clarke to patch him through to another resistance leader on the
laptop. The computer wiz kept telling him that it would only be a few more
moments, which was a few too many moments ago already. No matter how
uncomfortable he felt, Clarke didn’t dare ask Harvey to stop. It was one thing
to say it to Kaspar, another entirely to tell it to a superior. He simply
swallowed hard and got over it.

“You’re patched
through.” Clarke said as he stood from his chair.

“About time,” Harvey
replied.

Harvey took Clarke’s
place on the chair. On the screen in front of him was a live, real time image
of Roy Sanders, a former Delta Force operator who was also suckered into the
USR’s scheme of setting up rebel squads around the country. His weathered face
looked almost tired all the time. His hair was singed off entirely on the left
side of his head. The skin that remained there was a crusted red mess that
caused Harvey to cringe every time he saw it. The scar was received, from the
way Sanders told it, after he got too close to a flame thrower wielding North
Korean.

 Sanders became close
with Harvey once the scheme’s lid was blown off by Robert Clarke and John
Paxton’s old crew. Unlike Harvey, Sanders had never worked with Paxton in the
past, as they were in different branches of the military. However, they all saw
Paxton’s execution on television, and they all vowed that they would continue
on with the fight. Their resolve, especially Sanders’s, only grew stronger when
Clarke’s encrypted messages were deciphered.

“Hey, Sam, what the
hell you gettin’ me up from my wet dreams for?” Sanders demanded.

“I’ve got some
information you might find compelling, you old son of a bitch.” Harvey replied,
not able to contain the smirk on his face.

“Well, let’s hear it
then, Lacey was starting to do her thing.”

“You know that thing
we’ve been looking for?”

Sanders looked
confused. “What thing? Freedom, liberty, a fucking win in this damned war?”

Harvey started to look
from left to right to make sure nobody else besides Clarke happened to be in
the tent. Other than Kaspar, who he hoped would keep his own damn mouth shut,
he didn’t want anyone else to know quite yet. It was obviously a delicate
situation that needed verification. Nonetheless, they would need some help once
they got there, and though he had never met the man, Sanders was someone he
knew he could trust.

“That thing that cures
the other thing…”

“You found something?”
Sanders’s demeanor changed completely at the sound of that. His body perked up
and he leaned forward almost to the point of head butting his webcam.

“Maybe,” Harvey
replied. “Obviously, we need keep this between us for the moment, until we can
verify all the facts. I’ve got Clarke forwarding over a report to you as we
speak.”

“Okay, let me take a
look at it.”

Harvey watched as
Sanders looked over to a monitor to the side. The old soldier’s eyes lit up and
for a moment the old, tired scowl disappeared. He turned back over to face
Harvey through the monitor.

“You think this is for
real?” Sanders demanded.

“As real as it gets.”
Harvey replied.

“How did you acquire
this?”

“Ripped it straight
from a USR hard drive. Right before blowing their little toys to hell.”

“Yeah, I heard about
that, damn good job out there. But…”

Harvey leaned back and
folded his arms across his chest. “But, what?”

“I don’t know, could
be a trap.”

“Maybe so, but if this
accurate, this could be the key to all of our efforts. Everything we’ve done
since learning of that damn terrible experiment. We can cure the women, and not
just the wealthy, good to do ones the USR would use that thing for. We also
wouldn’t hold it back and use it for a propaganda tool.”

“Let’s say we do get
that cure, then what? How would we distribute it?” Sanders wondered.

Harvey unfolded his
arms and rested them on his head, holding it up from the desk. There would be
no easy way for them to get it out there. Hell, he was even questioning his
whole talk about the USR’s propaganda. It would be just as easy for the
resistance to use it for their own ends the same way that the USR would.

But, he knew that
there were good men in the resistance, and he couldn’t say the same for the
USR. They would do positive things if they could get their hands on it. If they
didn’t try, they would be in the same boat they were in now, with nothing. They’d
still be losing in a war effort that had little chance of success to begin
with. This guerilla warfare they were engaged in would eventually meet its end
once the mighty USR tightened its grip on them. They needed something. An ace
in the hole…a trick up their sleeve…anything.

“I don’t know, yet.
But, we’ve got smart people working for us. We can sort all that out later.”
Harvey replied.

“You’ve also got to
worry about certain soldiers who will get antsy with that in our possession. We
would have to play it exactly right.”

“We will.”

“Talk is cheap, Sam,
you know that.”

“We’ve got to try,
though. Even if everything went to hell once we got it.”

“I agree. What do you
need from me?” Sanders asked.

“I’m going to need you
and your men.”

“How did I know you
were going to ask that?”

“This is a big one.
We’re going to need all the help we can get.” Harvey said.

“You want me to get
anyone else involved?” Sanders asked.

Harvey pondered the
question for a moment. “Better not. We need to be as hush hush about this as
possible. We just lost a man and I could use some help, at the very least.”

“Who’d you lose?”

“Steinner.”

Sanders sighed and
shook his head slow. “I’m sorry to hear about that. How’s your team holding
up?”

Harvey took a deep
breath. “They’re shaken and morale’s kind of low. I’m hoping that we can verify
this cure and that’ll boost that. We’re going to give Steinner a proper
memorial tomorrow then head for the compound.”

“I see. Well, I’ll get
my men ready and we’ll move out. We’ll meet you about halfway to discuss
strategy and what not.”

“It’ll be a pleasure
to finally meet you.”

Sanders smiled. “The
pleasure will be all mine.”

Sullivan made his way
into the precinct’s equipment room right next to the weapons cache. He looked
around at the different devices available to him as an Agent. The only problem
being that he needed to check them all in and out whenever one was in use. And,
he would have to come up with a valid reason for having what he came for. There
was no way that even he could justify the use of this experimental device to
Fitzpatrick.

It didn’t take much to
persuade himself that borrowing it without permission was worth the risk. Worse
came to worse he could always feed some bullshit to his superior. Maybe he
would buy it, maybe not, but he needed it. His eyes stared down at the tiny
black sphere and he calmed his nerves. His sleight of hand was on an expert
level. As smooth as the best pick pockets and jewel thieves, he slid it into
his pants pocket, and then turned for the exit.

After he got what he
came for, he moved into the weapons room. Inside, there were rows of weapons
from advanced assault rifles to the more conventional side arms and submachine
guns. With a firm grip on the handle, he grabbed a replacement Glock 17 then
exited the weapons cache.

Next, he would have to
check the gun out at the front desk. He walked up and saw an attractive young
brunette in her late twenties. She was messing around with her long smooth hair
as she chomped loudly on her chewing gum. When Sullivan walked up to her
counter the receptionist quickly stopped. She swallowed her chewing gum, and
then wheeled her chair to the counter, putting on a fake smile when they made
eye contact. Sullivan could tell the poor woman hated her job. He couldn’t
blame her.

“You trading in your
side arm today?” she asked. Sullivan noticed her name tag.

“Yes, I am, Susan.”
Sullivan replied. He handed over his current Glock after unbuckling it from his
belt holster.

“What’s wrong with
this one?”

Nothing
, Sullivan thought, but that would be the truth. The
truth was something that he would have to evade for the time being. Hell, he
felt like he had never embraced any kind of truth in his entire adult life in
any case.

“Keeps jamming on me.”
he replied.

Susan took the gun and
gave it a quick inspection. She typed in the serial number and waited for
Sullivan’s mug shot to show up on the computer screen. When it did, she got up
from her chair and walked over to a locker in the far end of the office. She
pulled out a key and, once the locker door was open, she placed the gun inside,
along with all the other malfunctioning ones. As she did, Sullivan admired her
back side and the way she walked. He felt something in his chest. When she
returned, Sullivan handed her the new gun and, again, she typed in the serial
number and attached the gun to his profile. When all was done, she handed the
gun back to him.

“You have a nice day,
Detective.” Susan said.

“You, too.” Sullivan
replied.

He felt an instant
attraction to the young woman. She had a mature, yet youthful look to her.
Sullivan found himself staring into her round, light blue eyes. He then noticed
the light from above glistening off of her pink lip gloss. Her supple lips
tempted the Agent into climbing over the counter in order to press his lips
against hers. There was just something about this receptionist that caused that
something in his chest to go ablaze.

It had been so long
since he felt anything for a member of the opposite sex. The fact that Julie
already hated him when she died made the whole grieving process a lot easier.
Who knew, maybe a night on the town with a pretty girl would be good for him.

Sullivan leaned over
the counter and raised an eyebrow. He tried that look that got Julie’s
attention all those years ago.

“What time’s your
shift over?” he wondered.

“Not interested.”
Susan replied.

Sullivan’s heart sank.
He had never really experienced an instant rejection from a woman. There was no
quick, witty response that came to his mind. It seemed like it would be just
another night of apologizing to his son and getting bitched at by his former
sister in law.

Maybe next time…

***

Next up on Sullivan’s
agenda was a meeting with Fitzpatrick. The Captain wanted a detailed report of
what Sullivan and Little discovered in their investigation so far. The Agent
knew that he didn’t have much to go on. His mission now was to just try and buy
some time. Time, Sullivan knew, was not something that was easy to obtain when
working for the USR. They wanted results that they could take to the propaganda
machines.

It took a couple of
knocks before he heard Fitzpatrick’s voice inviting him in. Once it did, he
opened the door, and then waited for permission to have a seat in front of his
superior’s desk. Fitzpatrick leaned back in his expensive chair and rubbed at
the beaded sweat on his temple. He reached down for the “medicine” in the
bottom drawer of his desk. After taking a swig of the smuggled whiskey, letting
the burning sensation do its work down his throat, he put the bottle away then
faced his one-time top Agent.

“You better have some
good news.” the Captain said.

“I’m afraid that
there’s not much to tell.” Sullivan replied.

“And, may I ask, why?”

“These boys are
cunning. They have set up a very good way of communicating secretly with one
another.”

“Which is?”

“Poker. They are
passing along messages to each other through poker. Most likely the cards have
different meanings. It could even be how they talk shit to each other, I’m not
entirely sure…”

Fitzpatrick cut him
off by holding his hand up. “You know what I was just doing?”

“No, sir, I don’t.”

“Let me enlighten you,
then. I was just on the phone with the Consul, and he was none too pleased with
our current lack of progress, as he called it. You saw the news, right?”

“Yeah, another
compound got hit, right?”

Fitzpatrick nodded his
head. “That’s right. And, now, you come in and tell me that you’ve got
basically nothing?”

The market for time
just went down the tubes. Sullivan knew he would have to really make his case.
He remained quiet for a moment as he tried to think of how he could buy just
another couple of nights, but he knew he may have just tonight to try and get
something definitive, which he would not, but he had to make it seem that way
to his boss. He breathed in deep before responding.

“I know that we’ve got
very little so far,” Sullivan said. “But, you know as much as I do that these
things can take time.”

“Time is a luxury we
don’t have.”

“I understand that. I
mean, shit, you act like I’m a rookie who doesn’t know these things.”

Fitzpatrick pointed
his index finger. “Ever since your wife died, you’ve been acting like one.
You’re head isn’t in the game any longer. The big boys upstairs seem to think
that I need to replace you.”

“Listen to me,”
Sullivan said, trying to muster up any kind of emotion about Julie’s death.
“Losing Julie was hard on me and my kid. I’ve tried not to let it affect my
performance, but it just happened not too long ago.”

“Well, not to be
harsh, but you need to get over it if you want to stay in your current
position.”

This was good,
Sullivan thought to himself. The harsh tone of Fitzpatrick didn’t faze him in
the least. And, he had put up a good enough act to where, apparently, the
higher ups didn’t realize what his true motivations for staying in the
department were. Still, he had to keep the act going.

“Don’t tell me just to
get over it,” Sullivan replied. “I’m trying to be as good of an Agent as I can.
My son is living with Julie’s sister. I don’t even see the kid but maybe a few
minutes each night. I’m putting my time in. It’s just going to be a while
before I fully get over it. How dare you question my work ethic?”

“Nobody’s questioning
your work ethic. We all know that you’re a good Agent, but we’ve got this
resistance running rampant all across the country…”

“But, not in this
city, right? Ever since we bagged that one leftover on TV, there’s been little
in the way of terrorist attacks here.”

“You going to take
credit for that? Really?”

“No, I’m not taking
credit for the USR’s work. What I’m saying is that if my job performance, in
terms of how many resistance members I’ve arrested, is in question, you can
just look to that.”

Fitzpatrick sighed.
“That execution you brought up was a huge blow to them. We know they’re still
around, watch the damn news, we just have to find them. Maybe finding out where
they are hiding is not your expertise.”

Sullivan shook his
head and let out a chuckle. The Captain didn’t see the humor in the situation
and waved around his hand in front of him.

“This is a new kind of
war, now,” Sullivan finally said. “It’s going to take some time to adjust to
it.”

“There you go with
time again!” Fitzpatrick cried. “I wish I could be like you and just tell the
Consul we need time. He doesn’t give a shit how the battle front has changed!
He wants results!”

Sullivan leaned
forward and put his hand up. “I understand that, but if the Consul wants good
results, and not results just to get them, he’s going to want us to do our jobs
and investigate. Making sure we’ve got some bonafide resistance members in our
grasp, not just some punks who are mad at the way things are.”

“I’m pulling the plug
on your operation.”

“What?” Sullivan
demanded in shock.

“You heard what I
said. I’m sending men into that little warehouse tonight to send those boys to
hell. Hopefully, we can bring one in to spill his guts.”

“That’s a mistake,”
Sullivan said as he rose from his chair. “We don’t know anything, yet. We don’t
know who they are, what they are doing, anything.”

“And, this helps your
case, how?”

Sullivan placed his
hands on his hips. “Just give me a few more days. If I don’t have anything
worthy of the Consul, then send the boys in and fuck this whole thing up all
you want. Just a few days, that’s all I ask.”

Fitzpatrick thought
about it a moment. “You’ve got three days. In three days, I’m sending in the
assault teams and firing you, you understand me?”

“You’ve made yourself
perfectly clear.”