Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1) (10 page)

Killing the men responsible…was all he lived for
now.

Sullivan stood by the rotten frame of the
doorway. Inside, Thomas and his girlfriend Francis were supposedly constructing
their plot to bring down the mighty USR. The drive here didn’t put to rest his
doubts about the suspects. In fact, the doubts increased. He announced a brief
moment before that there were Agents outside who just wanted to talk. No
response, yet. Another knock on the door, this time he put more force behind
his fist. No response.

“USR!” Sullivan yelled. “Don’t make us kick the
door in!”

“Sully!” Mason cried. “Quit dicking around over
there and kick that door in!”

Sullivan glanced over at Wilcox who gave him a
blank stare back. His heart began to race and failed in its attempt to escape
the ribcage. He turned his body to the door. It wouldn’t take much to kick in
this piece of shit. Behind the full force of a right kick, the door gave way
and splinters from the door frame flew through the stale air. Sullivan
retrieved his Glock and pointed it straight forward. From behind, he could feel
his two partners pushing him out of their way.

No sign of the suspects in the living room. Only
stained, ripped carpet, a stale smell, and a couch with the front left leg
missing. The young pricks would force the Agents to search for them. They were
found huddled together inside of the bedroom closet moments later. Thomas
struggled to cover up Francis as she screamed aloud. Sullivan peered into the
young boy’s terrified eyes. They were not the eyes of a hardened rebel who
plotted against a powerful government.

“Thomas Everson?” Sullivan asked.

“Yes, officer?” Thomas replied.

“My name is William Sullivan, I’m with the USR.
We just want to talk.”

“Tommy,” Francis cried. “What is this all about?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Can you at least
explain to us what’s going on first?”

Sullivan started to say something before Mason
moved in towards the closet. Sullivan tried to move forward, but his shoulders
were met with the powerful grip Wilcox’s hands. Mason pulled out his Glock and
pointed it straight in Thomas’s face.

“What do ya think this is?” Mason demanded.

“I…don’t know, sir.” Thomas replied.

“Move into the living room and sit your asses on
the couch. You don’t speak, move, or shit without our permission, do you
follow?”

“Yes.” Thomas replied. Francis nodded her head.

“Now, move!”

The scared kids got up from their huddled
position inside the closet. Sullivan couldn’t bear to look the two in the eye
when they walked past. Mason and Wilcox started to walk out of the bedroom, but
Sullivan told them to huddle up. They did so and shook their heads at their
boss.

“This doesn’t feel right.” Sullivan said.

“What doesn’t?” Wilcox asked.

“These are not members of the resistance. I
guarantee you that.”

Mason moved forward. “Look, Forte is good at what
he does, unlike you. Look at the old man he brought us last time. If Forte says
they’re rebels, they’re rebels.”

Wilcox chimed in. “Yeah, just who are you working
for, anyway?”

Sullivan’s eyes darted between the two fuckwits. “I’m
just saying, my gut is telling me they are innocent.”

“Well,” Mason said. “My trigger finger’s tellin’
me that you are one of them. And these two are valuable assets to you.”

“What are you talking about?” Sullivan asked. He
moved in towards his accuser.

“Let’s go question our suspects.” Wilcox said. He
moved to the door. “Find out for ourselves.”

Asshole, Sullivan thought. He shook his head and
followed Wilcox into the living room. Mason stayed behind and started to flip
the bedroom, looking for a good spot to plant evidence, no doubt. Outside,
Thomas’s eyes were filled with fear, Francis’s with tears. Sullivan holstered
his weapon upon approach. The scared boy wrapped his scrawny arms around his
lover. Much like Sullivan used to do with Julie.

“Stay away from her.” Thomas cried.

“Nobody is hurting anyone.” Sullivan replied. “We
just need to talk like I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Talk about what?”

Wilcox intervened. “Talk about your involvement
with the terrorists you see on the news every day.”

“Do I look like a terrorist to you?” Thomas
pleaded. “I couldn’t even hack it in the academy.”

“I’m thinking that’s why you joined. Hm? Prove us
wrong? Is that whore you’re banging right now your payment from them?”

“Don’t you call her a whore!”

Wilcox pointed his gun at the scared woman. She
screamed and Thomas moved his body on top of hers. The Agent kept the gun
trained on Thomas. The Agent began to laugh at the pathetic sight in front of
him. The boy’s face remained determined. He was ready to die for his
girlfriend. Sullivan turned to Wilcox, whose laugh was gone, his eyes trained
on the sitting ducks.

“DeMarcus, lower your weapon.” Sullivan ordered.

“Hell, no.” Wilcox answered, ready for the kill.

“I said lower your weapon. Go to the bedroom and
help George, now!”

“Fine,” Wilcox replied. He lowered his weapon but
did not holster it. “But, when I find something, I’ll be back for this Tommy
boy bitch.”

Wilcox turned his back and avoided eye contact
with his superior. Thomas’s attention now focused on Sullivan, but his body
remained on top of Francis.

“I just want to talk.” Sullivan said again. He
inched towards the couple.

“You stay away from her.” Thomas said.

“Just relax. Nobody is getting killed here today.
Not on my watch.”

The boy kept his eyes on Sullivan. His body moved
slowly away from Francis, his eyes never leaving Sullivan’s, and sat down next
to his lover. The tears from the poor woman’s eyes caused her black makeup to
run down her freckled cheeks. The Agent reached into his pocket for a
handkerchief.

“What is this all about?” she asked, her voice
shaken.

“Miss Berlovski, someone has implicated you and
your boyfriend as being members of the resistance. We’re only here to check
things out, so remain calm and you’ll make it out of here.”

“Be calm?” she asked. “With those two mad men in
here? That black guy just now, he would’ve killed us without blinking.”

“Don’t worry about him. He knows who’s in
charge.” Sullivan lied.

The loud banging noises from the bedroom, not to
mention Wilcox’s manic behavior, did nothing in Sullivan’s vain attempts at
calming the couple down. The gears inside his head started to go into
overdrive. He didn’t want to see an innocent couple be sent to prison to await
execution. They would be lucky to last that long, he knew, with Mason and
Wilcox in the other room.

First things first, keep them calm. If one or
both panicked right now and did something stupid, there would be no way out.
They would be shot dead and left to rot on their torn furniture. The sight of
that old woman’s eyes crept back into Sullivan’s mind. Not today, no innocent
blood would be spilt. Get them out of here alive and worry about the rest
later. Give Fitzpatrick a chance to change his mind. No matter how slim a chance
that would be, it was better than the alternative.

“How long have you two been living here?”
Sullivan asked.

“Almost two years.” Thomas replied over a loud
thud from the bedroom. “What are they doing in there?”

“Looking for contraband. Just standard
procedure.”

“If they break all my stuff in there, do I get
reimbursed?”

Sullivan shook his head. “Afraid not, but your
mind should be focused on getting out of here alive.”

“Okay…what are you going to do to help us?”
Francis asked.

Sullivan bent down to one knee and motioned for
the two to come closer. They obeyed. He kept his voice no louder than a
whisper.

“I believe you.” Sullivan said.

“Then why are you here?” Thomas demanded in a low
voice.

“It’s my job, I can’t disobey my orders.”

“What about those men?”

“They are…more determined to see you killed here
today.”

Francis wanted to scream, but Sullivan placed his
right index finger over his lips. She contained herself, but more tears started
to flow down her cheeks. She moved in towards Thomas, placed her arms around
his neck, and squeezed. The boy kept his full attention on Sullivan.

“What are you going to do about them?” he
demanded.

“I’m working on that, but you two have to remain
calm. Don’t give them any reason to kill you. Cooperate with us. Let us take
you to the station and…”

“No way.” Thomas said, his voice grew a notch
louder. “We won’t last ten seconds in there. I went to the schools, you know. I
know what happens to people who are accused of such a crime.”

“You want to be shot?” Sullivan asked. He checked
his voice and lowered it. “Believe me when I tell you that those two men would
love nothing more than to execute you right here.”

“Found something!” Mason called from the bedroom.

“Oh, shit.” Sullivan said. He stood back up and his
heart rate quadrupled.

He looked back down at Thomas and peered into his
eyes. The only hope now rested with the young couple to give into reason and
cooperate. He hoped that the girl would not screw this whole thing up with her
screams. Sullivan looked behind to Mason who held up a letter in the air like a
trophy.

“Where did you find it?” Sullivan asked.

“In the floor boards—behind the desk. Sneaky
bastards.”

The smell of bullshit filled the air. Mason moved
in on the young couple and Thomas resumed his position on top of Francis.
Wilcox moved in with his gun trained. Sullivan moved in front of the men and
held his right hand out.

“You guys put that there!” Francis screamed.

“You shut up!” Mason shouted. “We have a witness
who swears you are resisters. And now we find
this
. Coincidence—I think
not.”

“Now,” Sullivan said, “let’s just wait a minute
here.”

“The time for talk is over, Sully.” Wilcox said.
“Get out of the way before I kill you first.”

Sullivan held his ground. He remained in front of
the two dipshits. Wilcox moved his gun from the couple to his superior. Mason
grabbed him by the side with both hands and moved Sullivan out of the way. He
shoved the letter in Thomas’s face. The boy’s eyes began to water for the first
time, no longer capable of staying strong for his girl.

“Tell us who sent this to you or we’ll kill you!”
Mason demanded.

“It’s not mine. You planted that and you know
it.”

Mason balled his right fist and slugged the boy
in the jaw. Thomas kept his head to the side and panted. The boy moved his fear
stricken eyes to Sullivan. Get us out of here alive, the eyes said. Come
through on your promise. Our lives are now in your hands.

“They’ll talk at the station.” Sullivan said.

“Why?” Mason replied. “So you can sweet talk the Cap
into letting them walk?”

“No, we can get a lot more done over there
without you two flashing steel in their faces.”

“You seem awful concerned for their safety.”
Wilcox said. “You
are
one of them, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.” Sullivan said. “And, I would
advise against making such accusations in the future.”

“You little bitch.” Wilcox fired back with the
index finger of his free hand pointed. “What are you going to do about it? Blow
Fitzpatrick’s wad again to get another promotion?”

“We are taking them in. Come on, Thomas, settle
your girlfriend down and…”

“No, I’ve had enough of your charity.” Mason cut
in. “Dee, do the girl first.”

“With pleasure.” Wilcox replied.

Mason’s monstrous hands grabbed the skinny boy’s
shirt and tore him off of Francis. She started to scream without control once
more. Thomas did his best to fight Mason off, but it was no use. The Agent
threw him off of the couch. When he tried to get up, his face was met by
Mason’s boot.

Wilcox aimed and prepared to fire.

“Wait.” Thomas said underneath the Agent. “Wait,
wait. I’ll tell you what I know, just don’t pull that trigger.”

Sullivan’s curiosity piqued. Mason lifted his
boot off of the boy’s face. Thomas picked himself up. Maybe Sullivan had under
estimated him all along. What did he have up his sleeve? The boy took a seat on
the torn couch.

“What do you know?” Mason ordered.

“I…” Thomas searched his mind for an answer.
“Don’t know much. I…only deliver messages, you know?”

“Not good enough.” Mason said. He fired a round
into the couch and aimed the gun at Thomas.

“Oh-kay. I meet with them…once a week, today
actually.”

“Where?”