Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

“Down by the…”

“Stop stuttering.” Wilcox demanded. He moved his
gun and fired a round into the wall inches from Francis’s left cheek.

Thomas’s lips quivered without control. “You’ve
got guns, I’m rattled.”

“Get un-rattled.”

Sullivan could see the wheels turn inside of
Thomas’s mind. He searched for something, anything, to get off of that couch
alive. The Agent wanted to help but knew he couldn’t. It was all up to the boy
to do something to buy some time. In his mind, Sullivan urged Thomas on.

“I know one of their leaders.” Thomas said.

Good job, buy yourself some time, that’s good.

“Who?” Mason asked.

“If I tell you, promise you’ll let us go.”

“I can promise you the girl.” Mason replied. “I
can’t promise you. Speak!”

“It’s him.” Thomas said. He pointed his index
finger towards Sullivan.

The two shitheads turned to face their superior.
Sullivan kept his eyes trained on Thomas. To save his own neck, the boy betrayed
him. Mason moved in on him. Sullivan put his hands in the air and told them to
wait a minute. The boy moved back over top of Francis who put a death grip
around his neck.

“Well,” Mason said. “Lookie what we got here.”

Wilcox aimed his weapon at his superior. “I knew
it. All this time you’ve been pussy footing around, wanting us to spare this
guy or that guy. Now, we know why.”

“Now,” Sullivan said. His eyes were wide as
he held both hands in front. “Wait just a minute here. He’s lying.”

“Prove it.”

“You’ve got him scared shitless over there, what
else is he going to do?”

“You promised to get us out of here.” Thomas
cried.

“You shut up!” Sullivan yelled back.

“William Sullivan,” Mason said. “I’m afraid I’m
going to have to ask you to surrender your firearm and come with us. Now.”

Heart racing now, Sullivan was forced to come up
with another solution. If the two clowns in front of him bought the bullshit
being sold, they would kill Sullivan in an instant. Not only that, they would
go after his family for fear that they, too, were aiding the resistance. His
wife would be the next to go. And, then, little Davie…

He shook his head.
Pull yourself together, get
back in control.

“That kid over there is lying to try and get out
of this!” Sullivan cried.

“Why?” Mason demanded.

“Don’t be naïve. Didn’t the little shit, just ten
seconds ago, swear that he was not a member of the resistance? You put a gun in
his face and, all of a sudden, he is? Come on, you’ve been an Agent long
enough.”

“I lied…” Thomas said. “I am a member of the
resistance and he is, too. I see him at all of the meetings.”

Sullivan turned once again to Thomas. “What are
you trying to gain here? What do you think is going to happen? They kill me,
sure, but do you really believe that you are getting out of this alive? You’ve
just signed your own death warrant.”

“An exchange…” Thomas muttered.

“Now, we’re talking.” Wilcox said as his eyes lit
up.

“What kind of exchange?” Mason asked.

“I’ll leave town, right here, right now. I swear
to you that I’ll cut all ties with them. I’ll take Francis with me and go. He’s
one of their leaders and…”

“Choose your next words wisely, boy…” Sullivan
said.

“You can take him. Just let us go.”

Mason turned back over to his superior and
shrugged his shoulders. Sullivan’s mind ran a marathon, he tried to help the
boy out, but the boy’s own ignorance doomed him. The cold truth was that Mason
and Wilcox were going to kill the couple anyway. The boy didn’t know who he was
trying to bargain with. But, Sullivan knew, all too well.

“I don’t buy it.” Mason said. He turned his
attention back to Thomas. “Not Sully over here, his nut sack ain’t big enough
for something like that.”

“He plans out the operations…I’m telling you the
truth. Just let me go.”

“George,” Wilcox said, “I think he’s telling the
truth. Let’s do Sully in, let them go. They are insignificant anyway.”

“Dee’s right.” Mason said, his gun moved to
Sullivan. “As always.”

A decision needed to be made and fast. The boy
already made his and Sullivan knew the score. The USR, so desperate to find the
members—leaders—of the resistance that the mere mention of being a part of it
put one on the fast track to public execution. It was just like Fitzpatrick
said. Sullivan cursed himself and his conscience. He peered into the boy’s
scared eyes, Francis was out of view behind him.

Wilcox moved in and reached for the gun attached
to Sullivan’s belt. Mason with his gun trained to his superior’s head with a
clean shot if any swift movements were attempted. The sight of the couple
huddled together on the couch brought back good memories of when he and Julie
were on good terms. He thought about how they used to hold each other, just
like that, all night long…that settled it. He could not put his family through
that, even though his wife hated him right now, there was still a chance…

A strong pair of hands gripped the gun in the
holster.

“You want me to prove my innocence?” Sullivan
asked.

“What?” Mason demanded.

“We all know this guy is full of shit and you are
going to kill him anyway.”

Mason pressed. “How are you going to prove your
innocence?”

“Put that gun down and I’ll show you.”

“I won’t put the gun away until you prove
something to me. Do what you gotta do. Dee, let him be.”

Wilcox released his grip on the weapon then took
a few steps back. Sullivan kept his stare into Thomas’s tear filled eyes. There
were only two options, as he saw it. He could turn and put a bullet in Mason’s
head, but then there was the other one who also had a gun. No time to do both
of them in, and the young couple on the couch would be killed, anyway. Mason
preserved his clean shot on Sullivan and started to breath heavy. Sullivan
didn’t want to kill the boy, but there really was no other option.

He betrayed me, Sullivan thought, and now I have
to betray him. Davie, forgive me.

“You promised…” Francis whispered from underneath
Thomas.

No reply, he gripped the Glock 17 from the
holster and lined up the sight right between the boy’s terrified eyes. Thomas
pushed his girlfriend away, but she came back to him. Another push and this
time Wilcox took hold of her arm as she screamed for help which wouldn’t come.

Sullivan ignored it all and Thomas kept his mouth
shut for once. One deep breath and a squeeze of the trigger. The cap of the
bullet flew through the air. The bullet penetrated through the front of the
boy’s skull and created a chunky, crimson mess behind him. Wilcox let the girl
go and she climbed on top of her former lover. She opened her mouth to scream
and it took two seconds for her to muster the strength to do so.

“Congratulations,” Mason said. He holstered his
gun and clapped his hands.

“What are you talking about?” Sullivan demanded.

“You passed the test. We didn’t buy that kid’s
story for a second. We just wanted to test you, see if you had the balls to go
through with it.”

“You bastards…”

“He was going to die, anyway.” Wilcox said. “And,
hey, you just proved in some sense you are not one of them.”

“Go to hell, the both of you.”

“You killed Thomas!” Francis cried. “You promised
to get us out of here and you killed him, you monster!”

Wilcox grabbed the woman’s skinny arm and threw
her off of the couch. Her body hit the matted carpet and she was ordered to
clean herself up. They were taking her in; there would be no point in Sullivan
trying to convince Fitzpatrick, now. She would die in the gas chamber, no doubt
about that.

Sullivan stared at the boy’s dead eyes. He could
not move nor could he think straight, he just stared and the guilt came faster
than he thought it would. Mason’s hand on his shoulder did not register. What
had he done? More innocent blood was shed today and he was the culprit. All so
he could save his own skin. Was Julie’s life worth more than Thomas’s? Was
little Davie’s? He cursed Mason and Wilcox in his mind as he stormed out of the
apartment. His heart sank at the three popping sounds from inside.

The Agent tried to avoid as much contact as
possible with the petrified tenants who started to flood the hallway. The blood
of the innocents had to be put to an end. He was forced to pull the trigger,
but not just because of the boy’s betrayal. It was also because of
them
.
Did the resistance not understand that? If they didn’t, he would make sure that
they did. A new determination burned inside.

He would find them. He would kill them all.

Paxton allowed the double doors behind him to
shut. The vastness of the large room caused a small echo as they did. In front
were rows of wooden chairs with a stage at the far back. On top of the stage
rested a large oak desk, its surface with a fresh shine from the multiple wax
jobs it received on a daily basis. At the back of the stage stood a large
American flag with its pole inside a pure gold flag post. The Committee members
started to file in behind the desk.

The Committee said nothing to Paxton while he
walked down the aisle formed by the chairs. He walked to the podium that stood
in front of the stage. He moved his eyes down the desk at each of the members.
They all wore the same attire: black suits with white shirts and black ties.
All of them except for the decorated general who sat at the far left end of the
desk. He still showed off his former Army uniform with all the medals which
included the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Pat Roberson, a former Senate member from
Mississippi, sat at the center of the table. He served as The Committee’s
leader. On the far right side sat Gregory O’Leary, former Congressman from
Boston. Nicholas Olyphant sat next to Roberson on his right side. Before the
USR, he was a rising Senator from New York who almost made a presidential run.
A natural politician, he used his charm and charisma to win over voters, but
ultimately lost in his bid for the White House. Billy Hayes sat next to Roberson
at the left. Hayes, the youngest member, was picked up by The Committee at a
young age where they raised him and schooled him on the American way. He was
well on his way to becoming a true leader within the rebellion. General Hank
Blackman sat next to him. Blackman was the only one that Paxton respected and
he trusted him whole heartedly.

Paxton approached the podium and cleared his
throat. He watched as Roberson peered at him through those gold rimmed glasses
and clear lenses. The nervousness grew inside. It was never a good thing when
he stood in front of his superiors and not one of them greeted him.

“Mr. Paxton,” Roberson said. “How is the old chum
today? We weren’t expecting you back here so soon.”

“I’ve gotta new recruit. Wanted to run him by you
fellas today.” Paxton replied.

“A new recruit? John, why are we only hearing of
this now?”

“I apologize that it’s short notice. But, Danny
vouches for him. He trained him in the boxing ring for months.”

“You’ve gone through the normal procedures,
then?”

Paxton cleared his throat. “Not exactly, sir.
But, Danny vouches for him.”

“That’s not good enough, soldier.” General
Blackman said.

“General, sir, with all due respect, we just lost
a man, right? We’re shorthanded and this guy just fell into our laps.”

“Just fell,” Hayes joked. “Like an angel from
heaven?”

“Something like that.” Paxton replied, not
finding the humor.

Roberson cut in. “So, you haven’t run the proper
background checks on him? You haven’t made sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt,
that he isn’t a USR sleeper?”

“Not necessarily.” Paxton replied.

“What do you mean, not necessarily?” Blackman
demanded.

“I mean to say that I have reasonable suspicions
that he is not a sleeper.”

Olyphant’s turn, “I don’t like it. Guy just pops
in out of the gray and you just up and offer him a job? Up and bring him
here
?
You’ve already gotten one man killed in recent weeks and now this? You are
getting reckless.”

The burning sensation in Paxton’s cheek told him
his face turned red in anger. He didn’t know this Olyphant character very well,
but what he saw of him, said that Olyphant was a prick no matter the fake
character he presented himself as a politician. The guy was a peace loving
fanatic and, as such, didn’t respect the sacrifices that Paxton and his team
made every day and night. The sacrifice that Zach made.
Damn politicians.

“Let me explain.” Paxton said.

“This had better be good,” Roberson said. He
looked down at his gold Rolex. “You know how valuable our time is, especially
now.”

“Danny went through the normal recruitment
routine with this Ryan Kaspar. Ryan fought many fights and never lost one. He
had this fight with Razor, got DQ’d and it looks like he will never fight
again. Cost the bookies too much cash.”

“And this,” Olyphant again, “helps his cause
how?”

“Shut up for five minutes and let me tell you.”

“That’s enough!” Roberson ordered. He slammed his
fist into the table. “You will speak to us with respect, Mr. Paxton.”

“Yes, sir, my apologies.” Paxton said.

“Now, please, go on.”

“He found his mother dead on her couch. Danny
arranged a meeting, everything checks out on his end. From what I could tell,
this was no set up. He’s genuinely angry and wants to see an end to the
senseless killings.”

“So,” Roberson said, “you’re sure this isn’t a case
of you being desperate.”

“I’ve still got good men. But, you of all people
should know, we are always operating under some degree of desperation.”

Olyphant shook his head before he opened the hole
in his mouth again. “I must admit that you have become so reckless that we
should be in discussion about your future with us. You lose a man, that’s fine.
I can understand your situation there. But, you’ve also caused a media circus
with your charades, not to mention the USR sending more and more of their Agents
out there every day. And, now, you bring this…bastard in here who you admit to
knowing little about all because that wiseass Danny says he’s clean? I say, the
answer is no.”

“What the hell would you know about what we do?”
Paxton demanded.

“I would say I know a lot.”

“You don’t know shit. You sit here all day behind
that desk of yours while my men and I are out there, bleeding and dying. All
you know how to do is talk and, quite frankly, I’m tired of hearing it.”

Olyphant aimed his index finger at Paxton. “You
little son of a bitch.”

“Come on, let’s go. One on one, right now, maybe
your balls will finally drop.”

“Enough!” Roberson cried. “Bring the little
bastard in here. Let’s see what he’s like before we make any rash judgments.
But, I will warn you, if this turns around to bite us in the ass, you’re
through, Mr. Paxton.”

“Understood,” Paxton replied.

***

Kaspar sat on the old wooden chair and wiggled
his now numb ass around. The nervous energy remained, but the intensity of it
dropped somewhat. This reminded him of the times when he would wait outside the
principal’s office for beating up some punk kid who talked shit in the school
yard. He remembered how his mother would have to leave work to talk with the
principal. Growing up, his mother needed every job she had, and even lost a job
once because of him.

The attempts to memorize his answers to their
questions were abandoned long ago. He had been sitting out here so damn long
that he did not care what they asked, he just wanted to get it over with. He
told himself over and over again that this rebellion seemed to hurt for good
men and, not that he was one, they would let anybody join at this point. Kaspar
was about to abandon the chair and walk around when he heard the double doors
open up. The look on Paxton’s face brought back the intensity of his nerves.

“Your turn, kid.” Paxton said.

Kaspar stood up and walked through the double
doors that Paxton held open. The old veteran let the doors shut. Kaspar thought
this whole time that Paxton would be in there with him. Maybe coach him up or
something. Wrong again.

He looked forward at the five sharp dressed men
behind some desk on the stage. Kaspar looked down at his attire, his white tee
and blue jeans, and felt out of place. He put up a cheap grin but nobody behind
the desk smiled or said anything to him. The grin was lost and he stepped up to
the podium.

“You must be Ryan?” Roberson said.

“Must be.” Kaspar replied.

“I’m…sorry.”

“That’s correct,
sir
.”

Roberson leaned forward. “What brings you here?”

“I wish to join Paxton and his crew. Blow some
shit up, you know?”

Kaspar heard a laugh and looked over to the older
gentleman, Olyphant. He gazed into the old man’s eyes and wondered if it was
genuine or mockery.

“Blowing shit up is not what we specialize in
here.” Olyphant said.

“And, who are you?” Kaspar asked.

“Nicholas Olyphant. But, I think the better
question is who you are.”

“I’m a nobody who wants to be a patriot.”

“Oh, that’s bull, son. Bullshit. You want nothing
but to avenge your mother’s death, am I right?”

“Listen, Mr. Olywhateverthefuck, I’m here to stop
that from happening to anyone else.” Kaspar almost believed his own lie.

“You little shit. Nobody talks to me that way.”

Kaspar held out his wrists. “I just did. You
going to arrest me, now?”

“No, but I’ll make damn sure that you never…”

“Nick, cool it.” Blackman said. “You ever been in
combat before, Mr. Kaspar?”

“No, sir, not really.”

“Then, you don’t know what it takes to succeed in
a combat situation?”

“Not yet, sir. But I can learn…I’m eager to
learn.” Kaspar replied.

“I’ll bet you are,” Blackman replied. “But there
are certain things that you cannot teach like instinct and ingenuity.”

“Put a gun in my hands and I’ll give you
ingenuity.”

“You’ve got spirit,” Roberson said. “I’ll give
you that much. What is it that you really want? Be honest.”

“When I saw my mother dead…” Kaspar paused to
swallow the lump in his throat. “I swore I would find those responsible. Not
just for my own personal fulfillment, but so they couldn’t do it to anyone
else. I watch the news, you know, I see the reports. I just never thought it
would happen to me.”
Very nice bullshit.

“Why,” Hayes asked, “didn’t you try and do
something about this problem sooner?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because I was…content
with my life, I guess. I made some money…”

“Illegally,” Olyphant cut in.

“And, I suppose what you do is legal, right?”

“That’s different. We’re making a
difference…trying to make a difference.”

“I made a difference to her. I made it to where
she didn’t have to go out there with those trigger happy Agents and their
prejudice against the elderly.”

“I guess what we’re tryin’ to figure out is
whether or not you are a sleeper.” O’Leary said.

“Me?” Kaspar demanded. “A sleeper with the USR, are
you kidding me? They killed my mother.”

“Maybe you used that as a way to infiltrate us.”

Kaspar bowed his head, smirked, and then looked
back up with no emotion on his face. “You know what? You’re right. I gave up my
own mother just so I could fuck around with you people. That’s exactly right,
sorry to waste your time.”

Kaspar gave a fake salute and turned his back on
The Committee. He was right. This was one giant waste of time that could’ve
been spent out there or at the shooting range. It was a terrible idea, anyway.
Kaspar did not care for this Committee, their mission, or its snarky leaders.
Just go on about your business and…

“Wait, Mr. Kaspar.” Roberson called out.

Kaspar turned and refaced them. They all still
had blank, expressionless faces that stared at him. What else did they have to
say to him? They might as well blame Kaspar for his father leaving. Hell, just
go ahead put all of the USR on his shoulders. He shook his head and returned to
the podium.

“We like you, kid. Well, all of us except Mr.
Olywhateverthefuck.” Roberson said and he chuckled. Olyphant’s face turned red
as he stood and glared at Roberson. Kaspar wanted to give him the middle finger
to top off the sundae.

“Like me?” Kaspar asked. He turned his head back
to the table. “Why?”

“You’ve got spirit, like I told you. Sure,
you’re, uh, people skills need some work, but you are all right, kid.”

O’Leary leaned forward, “Sorry about askin’ you
all of those questions about your mother, but it had to be done.”

“That’s fine.”

“This,” Olyphant cried, “is an outrage! This
little prick just showed a complete lack of respect for authority and you’re
just going to…”

“Nick,” Blackman said.

“What?”

“Shut up.”

Olyphant’s dumbfounded face turned two shades
redder. He stormed off the stage. His loud footsteps echoed throughout the
empty room, as did the loud slam of the door. The loud echo of the door caused
Kaspar to flinch, but his focus remained on the men. He hoped that one day he
would run into Olyphant after The Committee kicked him out. Nobody to protect
him then…