Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) (4 page)

The squad was all
gathered together in the central tent which served as their briefing room. An
eager, determined Buck sat in the very front. He was so poised and every word
his father said during the briefing was taken with the utmost urgency. The pen
in his hand formed words on the pad of paper in front of him at a lightning
pace. There would be no more screw ups. He would make sure of that. Steinner
sat next to him, a bit more relaxed, but still listening with intent. Dexter
Byrd, the man who drove the armored truck during the mission days earlier, sat
in the second row, next to Kaspar, who in turn sat very close to Krys. Byrd was
an African-American man of medium height and build. Not big enough to scare you
at first but more than big enough to finish you off. He wore a military green
tank which showed off his “Don’t Tread On Me” tattoo inked on his right bicep.

Kaspar’s right hand
was firmly placed inside of Krys’s strong grip. The medications she took
earlier seemed to perk her up a bit. She was no longer as lethargic as before.
Her stomach pains went away, too. Kaspar tried to focus his attention on the
briefing, but his mind kept wandering to the health status of her. These
briefings all seemed to be the same, with a few variations here and there
depending on the layout of each location. All he needed was a gun and then he
would figure out the rest as it came up. The enemy didn’t care how prepared
they would be, so Kaspar became very good at improvising. He just hoped that,
this time, the kid up front would calm the hell down and do his job.

“You still with me,
Kaspar?” Harvey demanded.

Kaspar nodded his
head. Harvey took a few deep breaths before he continued with the brief. If
there was one thing the old man couldn’t stand it was a soldier not paying attention
to what he was saying. There he was, spending his precious time explaining what
to do so they wouldn’t get killed out there, and it was apparent that Kaspar
didn’t give a shit. That was one thing that he and Kaspar went back and forth
on. Harvey knew that Kaspar did, in fact, care. It was just that he did a piss
poor job of showing it.

Harvey turned his
attention back to the screen behind him. On the screen right now was a hacked,
real time satellite image of the complex they were to raid in the coming days.
It was located somewhere in the Deep South. The screen showed Agents on their
patrols on the outside of it. The way they moved was almost identical to the
patrolmen of the last complex and the one before that, too. It still amazed
Harvey how the USR operated. Everything was the same, it seemed, and it became
rare to see them switch tactics. It spoke to the arrogance of the military and
government leaders, Harvey thought.

The complex itself sat
it what looked like a bowl from the satellite images. There were hills all
around it. The hills made for a perfect line of sight for Harvey, who had scout
sniper training with the Marine Corps. He explained in the briefing earlier
that he would provide sniper fire this go round, given the lay of the land
there. Harvey would take down the guards outside, plus create confusion for those
inside, which should buy the others some time to get in, get the job done, and
then get out. 

“Now, moving on.”
Harvey said after he collected himself. “Buck, we are not sending you in there
alone on this one. You’ll have Krys and Dex to give you back up. Just don’t
panic in there. Take your time, breath, and act like there’s nothing around
you. Focus on the task at hand, just like in practice, and you’ll do fine.”

“Yes, sir.” Buck
replied.

Dex, as Harvey called
him, looked over at Buck and gave him a wink. He was still getting over a
gunshot wound from a previous mission. The bullet penetrated his upper body,
where his body armor curved around his under arms. Dexter Byrd seemed eager
enough when Harvey called out his name as going in on this one.

“Steinner, you’ll once
again have Kaspar alongside you. We’re going in silent on this one. I’ll be
providing sniper cover from the outside. We’ll be using silenced MP-5
submachine guns, too. This base, from what we can gather, isn’t as highly
patrolled as the other ones, so no need for making any kind of racket if we can
avoid it. We are still going to try and get whatever Intel we can from the
inside, but like always, let’s not get our hopes up.”

That’s exactly what
Kaspar was doing when he said it.

***

The briefing had ended
just a few short moments before Kaspar was already hounding Clarke for
information. The layout of the complex was laid bare on the large laptop
screen. Clarke studied it hard for Harvey so he could report a complete
analysis to him. Kaspar watched as he did his work from over the shoulder. He
knew that it made Clarke nervous, but the computer wiz got over it quick
enough.

“You find anything new
about any type of cure?” Kaspar asked.

“No, they aren’t
manufacturing it here, or I haven’t found anything out about that. How’s she
doing?” Clarke replied.

“She’s fine, now, but
these spells she’s having are getting worse every time. Those drugs we’ve got
her doped up on aren’t going to do the trick forever.”

“I know. You’ll want
to be careful here.”

Clarke pointed out the
circular lobby area. It was wide, and there was very little in the way of
cover. Kaspar nodded in acknowledgement as he saw what Clarke was talking
about. It was a good place for an ambush. Clarke had almost gotten used to being
Kaspar’s unofficial C.O. He knew that his friend didn’t pay complete attention
in the briefings, so it became his job to point things out to him. The lobby
would be nasty if there was any type of fire fight. It would give the Agents
plenty of space to surround them. If that happened, the only thing the rebels
could do was surrender, and hope that the USR would be taking prisoners.
Actually, it would be better if they weren’t.

“I see,” Kaspar said
as he noticed the predicament that they would be in. “You think Buck will do
okay?”

“I don’t know. He
seems like the type of kid that knows all the answers on a test, but then gets
anxiety at test time and can’t remember anything.”

“That ever happen to
you?”

“Of course not.”
Clarke replied, with a cocky grin on his face. He continued to study the
layouts. “This one could be dangerous.”

“Aren’t all of these
little missions that way?”

“This looks different,
though. I mean, there are too many wide open areas all around. You guys better
be extra careful in there.”

“We always are. I’m
just worried about Buck.”

“Don’t worry about
him. You can’t control what he does. If he freezes up in there again, just get
yourselves out.”

Sullivan sat in the
plain, red car with his new partner, Kevin Little. Little was young, didn’t
look anything older than mid-twenties, and he still had his boyish looks about
him. His dark hair was spiked up in the middle. The thick gel held together
what looked to be a Mohawk. Sullivan sighed at the sight of it when they first
met. He didn’t want to work with any more douchebags. The young detective was
sharply dressed in a black suit, as well. Sullivan thought his new partner must
have been a real hit with the ladies. Sullivan told the kid to dress casual,
but Little replied with, “this is casual”.

Outside, the sun
started it’s decent down the gray sky. With the sun beamed in on his eyes,
Sullivan reached down for his sunglasses and slid them on. Little did the same
beside him. The audio they were patched into was full of static at the moment.
Their suspects were not gathered inside, yet. The two partners said nothing to
each other while they waited. Even though Little didn’t say much, Sullivan
already started to like him. In his mind, he took back the douchebag thoughts
he had earlier. The rookie not only didn’t talk, but he didn’t disobey an
order, either. Unlike his former cohorts, the veteran Agent thought that maybe
this could turn into a great working relationship.

As they sat in
silence, Sullivan’s mind turned to Davie. His son was left with Aunt Mary once
again, the third night this week he had to spend away from him. Today was
Wednesday. Davie was still doing excellent in school, bringing home nothing but
straight A’s. Sometimes, Sullivan wondered how good Davie was actually doing.
He heard stories of the class clowns that disrupted class, didn’t do their
homework, and still managed to get passing grades. The teachers, not wanting to
offend the children in class, couldn’t bring themselves to fail a kid when that
was what he or she deserved. That fact alone made him question how great of a
society they would live in when those kids got older. Hell, George Mason
managed to get out of the school system with a  passing grade.

“How long you been an
Agent?” Sullivan asked, breaking the silence.

“Not long. Just got
promoted to Detective class.” Little replied. He looked down at the brand new
shield attached to his belt as if it were a trophy.

“You got any family?”

“Nah, just my parents
who I take care of.”

“Any women in your
life?” Sullivan asked. Julie’s face popped into his head.

“Nope. Nothing long
term, anyway, just the occasional one nighter, you know?”

Sullivan raised his
right eyebrow, “Be careful with that. You don’t want to get caught up in a
legal mess with unwanted children. You know how seriously the government is
taking that, right?”

“Yeah, I know, I’m
careful. I’m thinking about going sterile anyway. I don’t want any Little
bastards running around.”

Sullivan leaned back
in his chair. “That’s good. This job makes it impossible to raise a kid right
and to have a happy marriage.”

“You speaking from
experience, Will?”

“Sure am.”

The two went silent
again. Sullivan’s thoughts returned to the task at hand. As he did, he began to
think back to the broadcast the resistance put out. For the one hundred and
seventh time. Not a word from them since that day. Perhaps it was all a ruse by
the USR in their propaganda techniques to make citizens fear the resistance as
those who can’t be trusted. They set off a bomb in a USR controlled building
after all. He kept hoping that Reed and his boys had something to do with
whatever had been put in the water supply. The answers wouldn’t come by
themselves and someone on the inside obviously didn’t want him snooping around.
There was only one problem and that was the man seated next to him.

Sullivan turned to
Little. “What do you think they are doing?”

“Who, sir?”

“The guys we’re
watching.”

“I don’t know. Don’t
really care, either, to be honest.”

“Why wouldn’t you
care? We might have to kill them.”

“If it comes to that,
then so be it. They made their choice if they are doing something illegal.”

“No thoughts at all
about it?”

Little started to
tense up a bit before he spoke again. “Will, seriously, we’re not supposed to
know. We’re not supposed to question our orders. The USR has reason to believe
that they are resistance. So, we do what they say.”

“You don’t always have
to do exactly what you’re told.”

Sullivan could sense
some discomfort coming from his partner. That was good, he could use that fear
against him later. Either he was a dedicated Agent, loyal to the death to his
superiors, or he was a coward too chicken shit to do anything but.

Whatever the reason,
Sullivan had to figure it out fast.

***

Reed began his exit
from the USR facility he engaged his work in. As he walked down the sidewalk,
he noticed a plain red car that he had never seen before. Definitely a USR
surveillance vehicle, Reed guessed. He had been cut loose just two days ago and
they were already tailing him. In his own mind he could have given them credit
if they held their wad long enough to make him feel more at ease. But, the USR
was all about control, so even him seeing the car could be their way of saying,
“We’ve got you now.”

He turned the corner
at the first crosswalk. There was an urge to look back over his shoulder to see
if the car would follow, but he fought it. He didn’t want whoever was in the
car to know he was unto them. It was far better right now to play it cool. He
did, however, pick up his pace a little. It was subconscious. He didn’t even
realize that he was walking faster than normal. The whole time he walked, he
thought about how much the USR knew about his activities late at night. What he
did after hours was obviously suspicious, but he and his crew were not stupid,
either. They used code words for everything they discussed, so as not to draw
suspicion from the numerous bugged devices that were planted all over the city.

Still, his going in to
be questioned was expected, and they had planned on at least one member of the
team to have to answer for what they did after work. Reed reasoned that he gave
off some pretty good bullshit, but if there was ever a time to not be careless,
it was now.

It only took a few
minutes with his brisk pace to arrive at the old warehouse where he met with
his buddies. He pulled out a key from his pocket, looked from side to side to
ensure nobody saw him, and then unlocked the door. Inside, the large, empty
room was already lit. The others had arrived before him. Reed was ordered to
work an extra two hours on his shift. In no position to say otherwise, he
accepted.

There was a sense of
urgency like few times he felt before when they ordered him to do so. He hoped
that the others realized the severity of discretion, which had already been
instilled upon them. But, with him being gone for two hours, he didn’t know
what kind of shit would come from his crew’s mouths, this being their first
meeting after he was called in. Reed thought about not meeting for a few weeks,
but that would only tip off the USR that they were doing something illegal. To
just act natural was the best COA.

The only object inside
the vast room was a long, wooden table with five chairs around it. The sixth,
and last one, at the head, was empty. Reed moved quick to the table. The others
stopped whatever small talk they were engaged in as their leader moved in. Reed
nodded his head towards the crew before taking off his black jacket and hanging
it against the back of his chair. Out of the pocket of his lime green pants, he
pulled out a pack of playing cards.

Everyone in the room
had their own codenames. The short, African American middle aged man to Reed’s
right was Sugar. The skinny, young white male next him was Pinkie. Next to
Pinkie sat Dopey, a slightly overweight Latino. On the other side at the far
end was Pepper, another African-American male of about average height and
build. In the middle was X, a bulky leftover and former member of a Latino
street gang. X went straight just before the USR takeover. Finally, next to
Reed on the left was Mr. Smith, a white male barely eighteen whose parents died
of mysterious causes when he was young, therefore leading him to the USR camps.
Reed’s codename was Bossman.

There was one other
member of the team who was never spoken to by the others ever since they banded
together. His codename was Statue, a hulking man who stood near six foot ten,
and was almost too tall to work in the factory. They all had a strict no
contact rule when it came to Statue. The only one who made contact with him was
Reed. Those times were few and far between, as well.

“You bitches ready to
get your asses kicked?” Reed asked aloud once he started to shuffle the cards.

The playing cards were
X’s idea. Instead of a standard deck of fifty-two cards, it contained
sixty-eight. Each card had a special coded meaning to it that only they knew.
Everyone in the group was responsible, once they first started to meet, to
learn the different meanings before they could proceed.

 Each night that they
met, they would play a mock game of Texas Hold’em, but with each hand, they
were in actuality passing out coded messages. Even if the USR had installed
cameras, they would have no way of knowing what was really going on. And, even
if they did, they would have no way of knowing what messages were being sent.
Each man took a code of silence before acceptance as a counter measure. If they
were caught, they were to not give out the code under any circumstance. Reed
knew all along that when torture was administered, one of them could and likely
would break, but this was their only way of communicating with one another. It
was a risk worth taking.

The whole operation
got started after Reed started to talk with X. Reed was always curious as to
how life was before the USR. At the height of the USR takeover, Reed was merely
a boy, and he didn’t fully understand what was going on. All he knew was that
there were more soldiers everywhere and that his parents were told what to do,
where to work, and how much they were to be paid. They were forced out of their
home and into a smaller apartment. A government official assumed control of all
their assets leaving his family with nothing.

X talked about how
great it was when there were freedoms. That he had his freedom taken away once
when he was arrested for gang activity. The feeling of being locked up in a
cage forced him to go straight once he got out. X used his street smarts and
started his own small business dealing arms, only legitimately this time. That
business, and everything he acquired through it, was of course taken away. The
leftover then convinced Reed that, in their line of work, they could aid those
who wished to bring the USR down.

Reed dealt out the
cards. Once everyone had a two card hand, he carefully placed three cards in
the middle. Bossman used a trick that X had taught him a while back. That trick
allowed Reed to lay down in the center the hand that he wanted to be dealt. At
the center of the table, a three card combination was flipped over.

Any problems
shipment?