Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) (3 page)

William Sullivan sat
as his desk, his fingers tapped in quick bursts on the keys in front of him,
the sound reminiscent of rats running through a metal vent. Thanks to an
endorsement from Captain Fitzpatrick he was able to find re-instatement into
the department. If not for him he’d be on the street with Davie looking for
work. While he was grateful to provide for his son, he found that being allowed
back to work to be less fulfilling than ever. His arrest numbers went down, the
new Consul up his and Fitzpatrick’s ass, and it wasn’t all because of the
decrease in rebel activity.

Now, he spent his days
trying to find answers as to who was ultimately responsible for his wife’s
death. The original hypothesis he thought up was that it was the resistance. He
had gotten closer to them and in response they tried to kill him. They got his
wife by mistake. But, then, that bizarre broadcast showed up on his television
set out of nowhere. A leftover got on the air and claimed it was the USR who
was behind a massive conspiracy to initiate population control. The USR fired
back and claimed that it was merely a propaganda piece set up by the
resistance. There was nothing to fear, they said, except for the resistance. Of
course, that was right before there was an increase in female deaths all across
the Society.

The truth, it seemed,
would never be revealed to the one time hot shot Agent. Plunging deeper into
the mystery only led to confusion and frustration. Despite his high clearance
level, every so often he would be denied access, forcing him to practically beg
Fitzpatrick for higher clearance levels. Even when his request was granted he
would only see the security levels skyrocket on the files. Sometimes not
minutes after getting a higher clearance. It was almost as if someone high up
was watching.

He remained steadfast
in his efforts through it all. No matter what obstacle the USR would try and
throw his way, he would learn the truth. There was still this strange sense of
love that Sullivan felt for Julie. No matter how much she despised him in the
end. Maybe it was because she had given him Davie. The most precious gift
anyone could ever receive.

He clicked his mouse
and, once more, he got the same security clearance block. The screen flashed
red while he cursed under his breath. Sullivan just wasn’t making any headway,
which flustered him even more, because he rarely ran into any such roadblocks
before. A light creaking sound came from his office door which stunned him at
first. His heart rate jumped, making him light headed, and he clicked the
little “X” on the top of the screen. When he looked up he saw his old boss
Fitzpatrick walk in. A strong odor of alcohol stung at the nostrils.

“Will,” Fitzpatrick
said with a half drunken smile. “We got us one.”

“Be right there,”
Sullivan replied, not sharing the enthusiasm.

“Get your ass in there
right now.”

Sullivan cursed under
his breath again before he forced himself out of the chair.

***

The interrogations
that Sullivan conducted these days changed dramatically in intent over the past
several months. Before, Sullivan was so desperate to find the resistance
members that he would do anything to get the answers. Who they were, where they
hid out, what their intents were, anything whatsoever. Now, he didn’t even know
who he could trust anymore. When he first saw that message on the television,
he didn’t take it seriously, who could? It seemed like a desperate ploy by the
resistance to get attention for their cause. What shook him the most was the
USR response. A rather large and expensive campaign was unleashed by them after
the message got out. “You have nothing to fear” they said “Everything is under
control”. If that were true then why were women still dying? Why hadn’t the USR
done anything to prevent their deaths?

So, as he stared down
his first suspect in over a week, he tried to find some way to get information
from him about the water supply problem. The man who sat in front of him, a
thirty-four year old named Travis Reed, stared right back without a flinch.
Reed, his file said, worked in the factories, what he did there was top secret.
So top secret that Sullivan didn’t even know what they worked on in that
factory. For a man who used to be always in the loop on everything, this
bullshit had worn out its welcome a long time ago.

Sullivan’s suspect was
still wearing that ugly lime green uniform that stung at the eyes. His hair was
a dark red, his beard’s trim was neat, every line straight. The strain of
working long, hard factory hours was written all over his face. His eyes looked
tired and the skin underneath them at the sockets a darkish red.

“What have we got you
in for today, Mr. Reed?” Sullivan wondered aloud even though he already knew
the answer.

“I don’t know,” Reed
replied. “You tell me.”

“It seems like you’ve
been meddling around with the wrong crowd.”

“What’s that supposed
to mean?”

Sullivan put down the
man’s file. With interlocked fingers he placed his hands on top. He moved his
hands up and down several times. The reason that Reed had been brought in to
the station was that he, along with several of his fellow co-workers, were seen
getting together after work in some old warehouse. Given the secrecy of their
work it didn’t take long for the powers that be to deem their after work
activities inappropriate. Reed appeared to be the ring leader of the whole
thing which led to his employers bringing him to the station for a “routine
question and answer session”.

“Tell me about your
little meetings that you have with your co-workers.”

“What meetings?” Reed
demanded.

“The ones where you
all hideout in some abandoned warehouse. Don’t play dumb with me. We’ve got
hard evidence to support that.”

“Is it a crime to have
some drinks, non-alcoholic naturally, with some buddies from work?”

“It is when you all
work in the same place. And that your job is so vital to USR efforts that I
don’t even know what it is you do in that factory.”

Reed leaned in. “What
does our work have to do with anything?”

“We just want to make
sure that you guys aren’t plotting some kind of insurrection…or that you’re not
aiding those terrorists out there.”

“Please…we know the
laws, we know what happens to ‘citizens’ who try to rebel. You think I want to
put my family through that?”

Sullivan grew annoyed
when Reed used his fingers as quotation marks when he said “citizens”. He kept
his composure, though. Time passed on and Sullivan found himself curious about
the rebellion. Curiosity in the sense of his wondering who was right and who
was wrong. The government that he served everyday hadn’t done a damn thing about
his wife or the other women out there suffering. He would need these rebels.
Maybe, just maybe, Reed and his pals worked on that substance that was going in
the water. Or, even more hopeful, the inevitable cure.

The wheels inside of
Sullivan’s head started to turn. His attention was now half on the questions he
was asking and the bullshit answers he received in return. The other half was
on figuring out a reason that he could let the man go. Not just anything, but
something he could take to Fitzpatrick.

“You still with me?”
Reed asked, trying not to laugh so as to offend the Agent.

Sullivan nodded his
head. “Yeah, still here. Trying to figure out what to do with your sorry ass,
as a matter of fact.”

“What’s the verdict?”

Sullivan pondered for
a moment. “You’re free to go…for now. But, if you so much as take a shit wrong,
we’ll know about it.”

Reed said nothing and
stood straight up. Sullivan opened the door, allowed the suspect to walk out,
and then followed behind. Sullivan gave Reed a waiver to sign and he was free
to go. Fitzpatrick watched the entire encounter transpire and looked shocked at
the outcome. He pulled his one-time top Agent into his office for a chat.

“What the hell was
that?” Fitzpatrick demanded, reaching into his desk for a bottle of moonshine.

“What do you mean? I
let him go.” Sullivan replied, not bothering to take a seat.

“I know that’s what
you did, dumb shit. I want to know why you did it.”

“We need to get
surveillance on his ass. We’ve got nothing on him. As far as we know, he really
is just chilling with his buddies after a hard day’s work.”

“I don’t expect you to
understand the severity of this situation, but I do expect you to use your best
judgment.”

Sullivan leaned in
over the desk. “Why don’t you enlighten me? Maybe if I knew what he and his
pals did for a living, I could have used my best judgment.”

Fitzpatrick shook his
head. “You know I can’t do that. It’s…”

“Let me guess,
‘confidential’, right?”

“That’s right. Only
the highest level Agents know what they do. Maybe if you hadn’t gotten soft,
you’d be one of us by now. What happened to the Sullivan I used to know? I
never thought I’d rather have Mason and Wilcox more than you. At least they got
results.”

“You know what?”
Sullivan shot back, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Those two thugs didn’t know
shit without me. Yeah, they got people to squeal, but I was the one who brought
in the squealers. If it was all on them, we’d never know anything.”

Fitzpatrick shook his
head. “We could go back and forth on this all day and night. I’m willing to
trust you on this. Besides, that son of a bitch is lucky he works for the USR
or else he’d be heading for a body bag right now. But, if this comes back to
bite us in the ass, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“I understand, sir.
That’s why I’m volunteering to lead the surveillance of this prick.”

“Do what you have to.
Good bye.”

Sullivan saluted his
boss. Maybe now he could get some answers.

Kaspar always enjoyed
his morning runs with Krys. The feel of the still cool morning air brushed
against his bare arms as they started to push it a little more. She kept with
him stride for stride as they jogged. She was looking a lot better now than
earlier in the morning. The lesion was covered up with a bandage and she didn’t
look to be in too much pain. Kaspar couldn’t help but wonder to himself how
much longer she could hold up. She was a strong woman, but even she had limits.
Everyone did.

They turned the corner
on the forest trail and pushed their legs even harder at Krys’s lead. Kaspar
ignored the burning sensation in his legs as he was now keeping up with his
partner. Krys had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore black sweats and
a black sports bra. The lack of any other clothing showed off that rose tattoo
that ran down the side of her rib cage almost down to her hip. The image, with
the falling rose petals, took on added meaning over the past several months. He
used to love the tattoo. It even drove him mad at times, but now with her
worsening condition, he couldn’t stand the sight of it.

“You keeping up back
there?” Krys asked. She turned her head and smiled. “Or are you too busy
staring at my goods?”

“Both,” Kaspar
replied. She could always read his mind.

Kaspar struggled for a
moment to catch up to her. Once he did, he matched her stride, and the two
lovers just ran in silence beside each other. Kaspar felt exhaustion run
through is body. He ignored it as he knew they were close, maybe another mile,
to complete their five mile run for the morning. The closer they got, the
harder Krys seemed to push. Kaspar wanted to yell at her and order her to take
it easier. The words never came out as he it was too hard to scold her for
doing what she loved to do. He just wanted to pretend like there was nothing
wrong.

The inner lie didn’t
last long. Krys stopped dead in her tracks. Kaspar moved in beside her as she
bent her upper body down. Without warning, a river of orange vomit flowed
through her mouth. In all, she did five hard gags, each time with the same
result. On the sixth gag, there was nothing left to be evacuated. She dry
heaved for a few seconds before she slammed her ass down on the tall grass.

“You okay?” Kaspar
cried as he knelt down beside her. He started to rub at her back.

“Yeah,” Krys replied.
She pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket. “I’m fine. Just…pushed too hard
is all.”

Kaspar’s eyes moved up
and down as he studied her. “You don’t look fine.”

Krys frowned. “I said
I was fine. Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

Kaspar nodded in
acknowledgment. He stood straight up from his knelt position and just stared
off into the woods. Things were getting bad for her. There was no worse feeling
in the world to Kaspar right now than the feeling of inadequacy. He wished now,
at this moment, that he had the smarts and the know how to fix what was eating
away inside his lover. He promised to protect her, and it was starting to look
like he made another promise he couldn’t keep.

For her part, Krys
just stood over the grass and tried to catch her breath. Her lips trembled and
her breath was short. Kaspar reached down and began to rub at her back again.
She let out a slight wince when he rubbed at the sports bra over her back.
Through the back of the cloth, he could see the spot looked wet, and the bra
stuck on that spot a little bit. When he lifted the black cloth, it revealed
another lesion, just like the one on her neck.

“We should go back and
rest, now.” Kaspar said. “I’ll help you back to camp.”

“Okay,” Krys replied,
finally giving up.

She stood and put her
arm around Kaspar’s neck as he led them back. The walk was slow and, at times,
Kaspar felt like he was dragging her. Her breathing consisted of short wheezes
here and there. At one point, Kaspar thought that she passed out on him. The
hike back to the camp soon became one of the lowest moments of his entire life.
He knew the score back when the two of them escaped together. There was always
a glimmer of hope that she would be okay, though. That hope was just another
cruel way for Kaspar to lie to himself. He wanted to enjoy every moment that he
had left with her. Mother was already taken for granted and Kaspar didn’t want
to make the same mistake with Krys. The past few months flew by so quick they felt
like just a few days. She was nearing the end and he was not ready to see her
go.

No, she’s not going
to die. Not on my watch.

***

Kaspar moved through
the large chow tent at a frantic pace. He ignored the others who were passing
off jokes while playing a few hands of Texas Hold ‘Em. They looked up from the
game at him while he hustled and ignored their gazes. He poured water from the
large tank into a camouflaged canteen and two military rations for food. Harvey
noticed his team member’s desperation and got up from his seat to help him. The
steam from his hot cup of coffee brushed against his face as he moved. He took
a slow sip and placed it down by his foot on the grass.

“What’s up?” Harvey
asked.

Kaspar kept his focus
on gathering supplies. “Krys just had another episode.”

“They’re getting
worse, aren’t they?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You need any help?”
Harvey wondered. He could tell from Kaspar’s pace that the episode she just
experienced was worse. He decided not to press it.

“Yeah, if you could
grab some meds, that would be great.”

Harvey nodded his
head, bent down for his coffee, then walked over to the tent next door that had
various stolen medical supplies. Kaspar placed the rations against his belt,
and then grabbed an orange, placing it in the back pocket of his sweatpants. He
turned to see Harvey bring in a small red bag. Harvey handed it over.

“You guys rest up, we
might have a beat on another one.”

“I’ll take care of
her. We’ll be ready.” Kaspar replied.

“Just make sure she’s
comfortable.” Harvey said.

Kaspar slid the bag
over his shoulders. “I will. We’re going to find that cure.”

“I know.” Harvey
replied, his response monotone, not giving away his true feelings about the
likelihood of that scenario.

Kaspar could sense his
disbelief with the emotionless response, but didn’t want to say anything to
cause a ruckus. That was one thing that Krys had taught him. She instilled in
him a new attitude of letting things go. There was something odd about Krys. He
couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but not even Mother could make Kaspar want
to be a better man. When he was with Krys, however, he wanted to be the best
person on the face of the planet for her. The first time that he started to
feel this phenomena was an experience that overwhelmed him.

With his upper body
bent down, Kaspar entered the small tent. She was lying there on the bed, a
white bucket beside her down on the grass. Kaspar walked over to her and handed
her a ration. She propped her head up using her pillow and began to slowly eat
the plain tasting bar. While she ate, Kaspar got together the various
medications that Harvey gave to him.

“Thank you, Ryan.” Krys
said in between mouthfuls.

“Don’t mention it,”
Kaspar replied.

When she was finished
with her breakfast, Krys placed the aluminum foil next to the bucket. Kaspar
then passed over the medications that she was doped up on all the time. Pain
killers, stomach medicine, and some concoction that Harvey came up with that
gave Krys a shot of adrenaline. This wasn’t going to last long and their
morning run was further proof.

“Krys,” Kaspar said as
she took the first of her medications. “We’ve got to be more careful. We can’t
push it too hard anymore.”

“What do you mean
‘we’?” Krys demanded.

“You know what I
meant. I’m your partner, I’m a part of your life, too. You’ve got to take it
easy.”

Krys swallowed another
pill, the taste so bitter she had to pucker her lips. Once she was done, she
replied, “How can you say that to me? Women are out there dying, just like me,
but I have the power to help them. I told you six months ago, no matter how bad
I got, I would continue to fight. There is no letting up.”

“I don’t want you to
quit fighting. It’s just, everything is happening so fast, I…don’t want to lose
you.”

“Me quitting, or
taking it easy, isn’t going to cure me. Yeah, it might make me more
comfortable, or extend my life a little bit, but I’m still…”

Kaspar put an index
finger over his lips and nodded. He didn’t want her to finish that sentence. It
was all just too hard to take in. She was right, after all, but he didn’t want
to see her suffer. If this was the end, she deserved some rest after all that
they had been through together. It was ultimately her decision on what she
would do with the rest of her life. Her life was hers and it wouldn’t be fair
for Kaspar to start dictating it. They were fighting against that type of
tyranny. He did promise her that he would stick by her until the end. He also
made a promise that either they would find the cure or that he wouldn’t get in
her way when she got worse. More promises he couldn’t keep.

“I know, baby. Look, I
know you don’t want to live with false hope, but I will save you.”

Krys smiled. “You
already have.”

Kaspar allowed a
smile, too. He moved in and gave her a slight peck on the cheek. When he pulled
back, he felt a hand on his arm. Krys began to shake her head. Kaspar’s grin
grew wider. She was so beautiful when she did things like that. At that moment,
he also had to fight back a tear. Krys placed her hand on the back of Kaspar’s
head and pulled him in.

“I love you,” she
said.