by Brian Cotton
***
Kaspar sat by himself in one of the vehicles. His mind was consumed with visions of Krys. She was all over his thoughts and there was nothing he could do about it. When he closed his eyes, he envisioned her smiling at him. When his eyes were opened, he saw her lying dead in his arms, unresponsive to his attempts at saying, and then screaming her name. His body rocked back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm. The knuckles on his hands were a pale white from clinching them together.
His quiet time was interrupted by the sound of the back door opening. Kaspar looked up to see Harvey walk in. The old Marine didn’t even bother to ask if it was okay to come in, which bugged Kaspar a little bit, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t need someone, anyone, to talk to right now. It was just that the one person he wanted to talk to was gone.
“How are you holding up?” Harvey wondered as he reached back to shut the door.
“Trying my best,” Kaspar replied. “It’s hard, though.”
“I understand, Ryan. I’ve had to go through a similar loss myself.”
“I know, Buck told me about it.”
Harvey’s face dropped. “What did he tell you?”
Kaspar breathed in. “Not much. Just what happened when he was born.”
Kaspar could see that the comment hit home hard for his leader, so he decided to shut his mouth and, when Harvey didn’t say anything for a while, there was that awkward silence that caused Kaspar to want to just be alone again. When Harvey finally collected himself, he looked to his soldier with stone cold eyes.
“We’re going to get them.” Harvey said.
“Excuse me?” Kaspar asked. The comment came out of nowhere and caught him off guard.
“I said, we’re going to get them. I know that I can trust you not to say anything, so what I’m about to tell you is to be considered extremely classified.”
“Why me?”
“You never said anything about the cure…back when we first learned about it.”
“Okay,” Kaspar said. His spirits started to go down with the mention of the cure.
“Listen, we, Sanders and I, are planning something big. Something that will strike at the very heart of the USR. It’s going to be risky, and the repercussions immense, but we think it will be worth it.”
Kaspar’s curiosity piqued. “What are you planning?”
Harvey went into all the details regarding the planned assault on DC. Through it all, Kaspar grew more and more ready for the fight. His attention began to leave Harvey somewhat at times, but when his leader kept going into how much this would hurt the USR, if successful, the words fired him up. He was ready to grab a gun and go right this minute. When he told Harvey as much, the leader warned that this mission would take careful planning and they couldn’t just rush the place.
“So,” Kaspar said. “What’s it going to take?”
“Well, Sanders is currently getting with our contacts, we’re hoping that we can get a small force together in a united effort for this Op, but it might not be that simple.”
“Why not?”
“This is dangerous and unprecedented. Since the USR has come into power, nobody has tried anything like this. Our operations have always been small, you know, guerilla war type stuff.”
“Right…”
“And, whether we win or lose, the people of the USR are going to be the ones to suffer the most. The USR will be more than a little pissed off when we take down one of their beloved symbols of America’s defeat. Their control over the population will get out of control. You think it’s bad now? Just wait until a few weeks from now.”
Kaspar leaned forward. “What happens if we can’t get enough folks to do this?”
“Let’s not think that way, son. I’m hoping that there are enough like-minded men brave enough to punch the USR in the mouth and stand up to the counterblow.”
Kaspar took a moment to think about what he had just been told. There was a mixed feeling inside as he wasn’t quite sure exactly how to feel about this. Of course, he wanted to strike back at the USR, but not for what Krys would consider the right reasons. Once again, he was consumed by his need for revenge of any kind. The USR had taken away Mother, now they took away Krys, and Kaspar was left with nothing. However, he thought about what Harvey said about the consequences of such a bold move. Was his need for revenge more important than the lives of the men, women, and children who already lived in fear? Was the need for the old ways to come back worth that high of a cost? Kaspar simply didn’t know.
Kaspar looked directly into Harvey’s eyes. “Do you think this would be worth it?”
“I don’t know the real answer to that one. I just know that something needs to be done. The people out there,” Harvey said as he pointed towards a window, “they need something.”
“Something what?”
“Something to have hope in….”
Kaspar pointed his index finger at Harvey. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong. The people out there, save a few leftovers, don’t give a shit about what we do. They hate us. They want us to be found out and killed. To them, life under the USR is the only way to live.”
A nerve was struck within Harvey. “What makes you think so?”
“I’m not a leftover, you know? I don’t know anything about what life was like before the USR took over. Don’t really know which way is better…”
“How can you say that after your mother…”
“My mother is the only reason I’m in this. If she had never died, I would still be boxing or doing something else with my time. I’ve never been bought into one way or the other. I know that the USR is into some funky shit, but I also don’t know any other way.”
Harvey smirked. “So, you’ve really learned nothing since you joined the fight.”
“I’ve learned a lot. But, we’ve been so busy demolishing the USR’s labs and whatnot that I’ve only learned how to fight. And, I’ve learned what love is, but that’s about it. No ‘this is why America was so great’ other than a few speeches from John back when he was still alive.”
“I understand your ignorance, and I don’t mean that as an insult. When things settle down, if we are still alive, I swear to you I will teach you about America.”
Kaspar smiled, “Looking forward to it.”
“If only you knew, Ryan. All the talk in the world couldn’t clue you in unless you actually experienced it.”
Harvey then started to do something that really caught Kaspar off guard. The old Marine started to talk about himself, which he had never done before. Kaspar listened as Harvey told him about how he grew up, without much money but with a loving family, and he had his freedom. The freedom to talk about whatever he wanted, the freedom to pick his own way, not a predetermined order of things that the USR saw fit. When he joined the military, Harvey explained, it was of his own freewill. Nobody from the US government forced him into it because he was more physically fit than others. He joined because he loved his country and wanted to fight for it. In that way, things for Harvey weren’t much different since he decided to fight back against the USR.
The one thing that struck Kaspar was that Harvey didn’t say anything about his life before he joined up with the resistance. He simply said he had a wife and when Buck was born, she died. The leftover didn’t mention his feelings toward the incident as he spoke about it in a matter of fact tone. The thought of living under a totalitarian regime seemed to get under the old man’s skin more than the death of his wife or the birth of his son.
It was after his wife died that someone approached him with a job. That someone, unknown to him, was an undercover USR government official who was assembling a resistance squad much like the one Paxton started. After that, he was gung ho in his fight, raising his son at the same time.
“Truth is,” Harvey said. “I’m not sure it was really me who was raising my boy. It was more of a team effort. Every man who fought with me played a role in raising Buck.�
�
“Maybe that’s why Buck is so upset all the time.” Kaspar said.
Again, Harvey’s face dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Listen, I grew up without my father, so I can understand.”
“Buck didn’t grow up without his father.”
Kaspar leaned forward. “You were physically there. I’ll just leave it at that. Maybe you should talk to Buck about it. Not to me.”
“You mind your own business about my son and I’s relationship.”
“Just saying,” Kaspar replied. He held up his hands in the air.
“So,” Harvey said in desperate need of changing the subject. “What are your feelings about the mission?”
Kaspar shrugged. His thoughts from earlier were in the back of his head. “I’m just thinking about Krys. Before she died, she told me to fight for the right reasons, whatever the hell those are.”
Harvey sighed. “Fighting for the right reasons is a tricky thing.”
“I hear you.”
“You’ve just got to get beyond your personal vendettas, which will take time, and really consider why we are fighting.”
“I’ll try.”
Harvey looked down at his watch. “Well, it’s getting late, I’m going to try and get some shut eye.”
“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“And, Ryan?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”
.38
Sullivan sat in the chair in front of Fitzpatrick’s desk with a scowl on his face. Things were not going well with this supposed routine meeting with his superior. In fact, he was waiting for his boss to ask for his badge and gun. Little was sitting next to him and, unlike his partner, he seemed to be in a good mood today. Sullivan began to question whether or not his partner had ratted him out. That seemed unlikely, given the fact that Little was a coward who wouldn’t dare do anything to put his perfect life at risk.
The meeting started out bad and quickly escalated to horrifying. Sullivan was forced to answer questions about why he called in sick the other day. Why there had been no collected evidence against the suspects. And, most important to Sullivan, why he felt that he should still have a job with the department.
Sullivan tried his best to explain away his absence from work. However, he failed to get a doctor’s note, and of all the times he had called in, Fitzpatrick decided that today was the day to demand one. When the Agent tried to say that he wasn’t sick enough to go to the doctor, Fitzpatrick fired back with if he wasn’t sick enough to go, then he wasn’t sick enough to miss work. Sullivan just sat there after that, the scowl growing more intense on his face by the minute.
“What’s that look for?” Fitzpatrick demanded.
“I don’t know, sir. You act like I’m a damn rookie or something. You know that these things take time.”
“Time, again, is a luxury we don’t have.”
Little spoke up. “You know what I think, sir?”
Sullivan looked over to Little, who looked back into his eyes. The look on the elder Agent’s eyes said to Little that he would love to hear what he thought. The younger Agent caught his drift. Sullivan could tell by the way he sort of squirmed at the look. It was as if Little’s balls would finally drop, but the coward in him took over once again.
“Yes, Detective?” Fitzpatrick said.
Little cleared his throat. “I just think that maybe we’re moving a little bit too slow, that’s all.”
“Too slow?” Sullivan demanded with his eyes still locked on to his partner’s. “What makes you think that?”
“It’s just, you know, we haven’t gotten anything on them.”
“That’s because they are very good.”
“If I may,” Fitzpatrick said. “I think that your partner might be right. And, also, I find it very suspicious that after I warned you about only having three days, you call in sick, and when you go to the warehouse, the suspects are nowhere to be found.”
The scowl grew more intense. Sullivan was found out and he knew it. He swallowed hard and knew what was coming next, as well. Instinctively, Sullivan reached for his badge. Fitzpatrick caught it with his eyes. The Captain threw up his arms.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Nothing, sir,” Sullivan replied. “I’m pretty sure what comes next. I’ve been through this before.”
“Kevin, if you would please leave the room for a second?”
Little nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The two Agents remained silent as Little stood. The rookie politely saluted his Captain, who saluted him back. When it came to Sullivan, Little did not make any kind of gesture to him. Sullivan could sense that the young rookie just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. When the two Agents had a quiet, private session, Fitzpatrick began to rub at his brow before he said anything.
“You know how I feel about your skills, Will.” The Captain finally said. He stopped rubbing at his forehead and gave Sullivan his full attention.
“I know.” Sullivan replied.
“I’m just sad to see you willing to give up your badge so quickly. Without any kind of fight or whatever. I just want to make sure everything is okay before we moved forward.”
Sullivan thought about that comment before he spoke up again. Everything was not okay. It hadn’t been okay since Julie left this world. The guilt he felt for staying an Agent while his wife wanted him to quit and find something else still lingered. She knew the types of things that would go on, it was all over Sullivan’s eyes, and she just wanted something better for him. In his stubbornness, and his pride, he went against her wishes and it ruined their marriage. It ruined the relationship he had with the woman he loved. Then, when it became apparent that it was the USR who was behind it, things just got worse.
However, despite his feelings about it, he couldn’t reveal that to Fitzpatrick. He would have to lie and pretend like he was still wallowing in his own self-pity about her death. It had worked well for him up to this point. In the midst of their silence, his thoughts also drifted to that of Reed and his resistance partners. The time to act was now, but Sullivan didn’t know how to go about it. He still had his son to worry about. In the back of his mind, he knew that he would have to leave him for at least a little while, but he didn’t want to accept it just yet.
“William?” Fitzpatrick said, breaking up Sullivan’s thoughts.
Sullivan shook himself back to the present. “Yeah? Sorry.”
“How is everything? I mean, do you feel that you can still do your job effectively?”
“I don’t know, sir. The wounds from my wife’s death still haven’t fully healed.”
“I can see that. Listen, why don’t you take a few days of leave?”
Sullivan almost smiled, but held back. “Are you sure that’s necessary, sir?”
“I just think that, with your current performance, and the fact that I don’t want to fire you, I think that’s the best course we can take right now. I’ll need your badge and your firearm.”
Fitzpatrick made a motion with his hands for Sullivan to hand over the items to him. Sullivan, with a fake reluctance, stood from his chair and complied. After the items were on the desk, Sullivan again felt that sense of relief that he felt when he went through this six months ago. After saluting the Captain he turned his back on his superior and walked out the door. Now, he had the space and the time he would need to get the information needed.
After the door was closed, Fitzpatrick picked up his phone and dialed just one number into the key pad. It rang only once, and then he could hear the decryption sequence go through its process to ensure the line was clean. It took about a minute for the voice on the other end asked him to code in. He did so.
Fitzpatrick then asked for the Consul’s office phone.
.39
Sullivan looked down a
t his watch. As he saw the time, he picked up the pace of his walk to the bridge where he was to meet up with Reed. Things were about to go downhill for him and he knew it. He could feel the prying eyes of the USR staring straight at him. The feeling of paranoia caused the Agent to look around from side to side as he continued towards the bridge. Even though there had, for as long as Sullivan could remember, been Agents on every street corner always watching, this time he felt like they were all looking at him. He did his best to avoid all eye contact with them.
Once he reached the end of the street, he could see the bridge, and he saw that Reed was already there. Reed seemed to have the same feelings as Sullivan, because he was looking around every few seconds as well. Sullivan started to approach Reed, but stopped in his tracks. He looked around him one last time and, once he felt assured that he was not being followed, or that nothing was out of the ordinary, he approached Reed from behind.
“Travis,” Sullivan said in a low voice.
Even though he was speaking with that low tone, the salutation from the Agent startled Reed. Sullivan could see the man jump at the sound of his name. Once Reed turned around, he placed his hand over his chest and let out a slow, deliberate exhale.
“You scared the shit out of me.” Reed replied.
“Sorry,” Sullivan said. “I didn’t want to attract too much attention.”
“That’s nearly impossible in this city, under this government.”
Sullivan nodded his head in agreement. With his right hand, he made a gesture for Reed to follow him towards the bridge. The rebel hesitated for a moment, not knowing whether to trust Sullivan to lead him under a bridge. With a genuine smile, genuine enough for Reed anyway, Sullivan gestured again. The hesitation was still there, but Reed reasoned that if this was his time, it was simply his time and there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable. If he tried to run, there were Agents on every street, ready and willing to put him down. Besides, he had, with great reluctance, grown to trust this Sullivan character.
Once under the bridge, Sullivan reached into his jacket pocket for a piece of gum. Reed’s eyes grew as Sullivan first opened up his jacket, ready for the Agent to pull out a gun and end it all. Sullivan noticed the look and smirked. He held out the opened pack of gum to offer Reed a piece. Reed declined.
“I doubt you brought me out here to chew some gum together.” Reed said.
“You never know,” Sullivan replied. “Your breath is pretty rank.”
Reed wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “What did you want to talk about?”
“First of all, I have to warn you, I was just suspended from the force today.”
“Really?”
Sullivan nodded. “Sure did. It isn’t the first time, though it could be the last.”
“Why’s that?”
“I think I’m done serving the USR for a while.”
“What happened to you? I mean, you are high up in the ranks, why change your mind now?”
Sullivan took a deep breath then told Reed the whole story about Julie. A lot of the parts, especially when he got to the part where he told the doctors to pull the plug, almost choked him. Reed, for his part, just stood there and listened. His eyes still wandered, but he was becoming more comfortable under the bridge, where there was very little line of sight.
In the middle of telling his story, the Agent grew surprised at himself. Sullivan was never one to talk about his life or his feelings with people that he didn’t know. He wondered, as he kept talking, how exactly he ended up in the stage of his life that he was at. A once dedicated Agent, who swore to hunt down and kill all the resistance leaders in his city, was now talking to one openly about his life and what he wanted out of the life of an Agent. He also couldn’t help but think what if he had come to this realization sooner. Maybe then, during Julie’s last moments on earth, they could have shared some love together before the end.
“I understand, I think.” Reed said once Sullivan got to the end.
“I want to know the truth, like I said.”
Reed nodded his head. After he looked around him one more time just to make sure, he went into all the details that he knew about the population control drug that killed the Agent’s wife. He talked about how the USR feared overpopulation and the drug was just one more form of their control. Reed also went into detail how the USR distributed the drug into the water supply system, how they knew there were bugs in it, but went through with it anyway. No regard for the lives of the women they would kill. What Reed told him, unlike before, was much more detailed. This wasn’t just some angry rebel any longer, but he seemed to be a well-informed citizen.
More than once, Sullivan shook his head in utter disbelief. At one point, he had to stop himself from interrupting the rebel and telling him to get real. The more Reed went on, however, the more the guilt inside Sullivan grew. He realized that he had been fighting on the wrong side this whole time. Even though some of the juicier parts of Reed’s story were hard to believe, he couldn’t shake the feeling that a lot of it had to come from some kind of truth.
The USR simply denied the problem, and then went so far as to blame the resistance for destroying the only place where they were developing a cure. It was all just one big control game to the USR. And that, Sullivan knew from his prior cases and arrests, was an undisputed fact. The USR craved that control, so using a population control drug, no matter the consequences, seemed right up their alley.
“Hard to believe?” Reed said after he finished. He could tell from Sullivan’s facial and body language that the Agent was having a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was being told. He couldn’t blame him.
“Sure is,” Sullivan replied. “I worked for the USR and, even experiencing a lot of the things that I was basically forced to do, I just can’t imagine they’d stoop to such a low.”
“Well, believe it. I’ve got no reason to lie to you.”
“You’ve had everything you just told me verified?”
“Sure,” Reed replied. “After that one rebel leader was executed at the Consul’s office, we were approached by someone who provided us with the evidence.”
“Who was this person?” Sullivan wondered.
Reed smirked. “Not telling.”
“Understandable. Listen, you need to protect yourself right now. I’m no longer on the inside. I can’t help you in that department.”
“Understood.”
.40
Harvey bent his head down and rubbed at his black hair. The conversation he just had with another rebel leader didn’t go as planned, which could be said for a lot of the conversations he was having. Clarke, who was setting up the Com-links for him and Sanders, kept trying to encourage the old man into keeping his head up. That was impossible to even think about at this point, Harvey thought. He was starting to question the legitimacy of what they were planning. Perhaps he was right all along, and Sanders was the one who had it all wrong. The general sentiment that he kept getting was that this was too soon to try something as huge as going after the Capitol.
Some of the others had concerns about their manpower. They were, of course, running their own Ops all across the country and couldn’t spare any of their men. The more Harvey tried to explain to them why it was so imperative that they at least try something, the more he began to doubt his own words. At times, he felt like it was Sanders talking through him rather than himself.
Sanders, who sat across from him in the tent, seemed to be doing more than okay. He had that smirk on his face as he reached his pen down to the yellow paper. It looked like he had gotten another squad to come and help. Harvey looked to his own pad. There were only two names written down and they had a total of ten men put together. Sanders wasn’t having much better luck, but his list was significantly longer than Harvey’s.
Was this even worth it? That was the question that flooded Harvey’s mind. Combine all these forces together,
on a dangerous mission, and then if it failed what would happen? They would have sacrificed good men and it couldn’t be considered anything more than a huge victory for the other side.
Sanders looked up from his paper. “You look down. Not having any luck?”
Harvey slammed his fist on the desk. “I’ve got two damn squads that have agreed to help. Two.”
“That’s okay, we’re not done calling.”
“I’ve talked to several of our fellow leaders and they are all saying the same thing. It’s too dangerous. Too risky. It will only make things worse out there for the people.”
“Things have a tendency to get worse before they get better. Come on, you’re old enough to know that.”
Harvey rubbed at his forehead. “I just don’t know, Roy.”
“Don’t know what?”
“This war. I just don’t know anymore. It’s hopeless. The USR is only getting stronger. I’ve spent countless hours, lost good men, on sabotaging those labs. Then, I lost almost all the rest trying to get that cure. I just feel like if we do this, and we lose, that it’s only going to get more hopeless.”
A disappointed look grew on Sanders’s face. He looked straight into Harvey’s eyes and just stared for a moment. Harvey felt like Sanders was looking deep into his soul to see if there was anything left. Harvey wondered the same thing. If only more of their fellow warriors had the courage to do what was necessary, maybe then his feelings of hopelessness wouldn’t be so strong.
“Listen to me, Sam.” Sanders said to finally break the silence.
“I’m listening.”
“No, I mean open your fucking ears and let this set in, okay?”
“Go ahead.” Harvey replied, growing impatient.
“I know this seems like a major step forward, going after DC and all. But, sometimes it takes brave men like us to do something crazy. A lot of these pukes we’re talking to, they don’t have any hope. They sound like you, actually. But, if we can do something crazy and succeed, just think of the morale boost. We can get them on our side then plan something crazier. This guerilla warfare BS we’ve been doing, it ain’t gettin’ the job done.”
Harvey let those words sink in for a moment before responding. In that time of pondering, he grew envious of Sanders, for a moment. Sanders was a man who knew only one thing and that was war. The old Delta Force soldier sitting in front of him never had a family, never had much of a care to start one, either. There was nothing that could deter him from the ultimate goal, which was always winning the war. In this case, he would stop at nothing to kick some USR ass. For Harvey, the question was always how they could win. For Sanders, even though he did want to win, the question was always the next battle. He didn’t care about the scale of the fight.
There was nothing but courage inside of Sanders, even if he was a difficult person to deal with sometimes. Harvey wished he could be like that. The analytical part of his brain just never ceased to rear its ugly head during moments like these. He was never a coward; he just couldn’t get past doing the pros and cons of every fight.
“I hear you on that.” Harvey replied.
“So, are you backing out, or are you going to cowboy up?” Sanders wondered.
“You know I’m in for this.”
“Then you need to let those that you talk to know that. I can hear the doubt in your voice, and it’s making me want to vomit. When I talk to these folks, I’m letting them know I’m all in, no doubts. No second guessing.”
Harvey sighed. “Have you even thought about what would happen if we lost? All those men would be gone.”
“I don’t allow myself to think that way. Maybe it’s a flaw on my part.”
“I understand.” Harvey replied.
With that, Sanders looked back down on his computer as he tried to get in touch with another rebel squad. Harvey looked down at his screen and started to do the same thing. He conceded that Sanders was right. The resistance, at this point, couldn’t sit back and worry about the consequences. They had to move forward and continue to take the war to the USR. If they suffered a defeat, no matter how significant, then so be it. At least Harvey could go to his grave and tell his maker that he fought bravely and with courage for what he believed in. That was more than a lot of folks could say.
When the next face appeared on his screen, a renewed sense of vigor filled his soul.
.41
Caine was in the midst of his daily trance when he heard the phone next to him buzzing. It was the red phone, which meant the call was urgent, or at least it had better be urgent or the caller would suffer the consequences. When he decided to pick it up, the operator on the other end told him that a Captain in the police force was calling the Consul about a potential rogue Agent. The operator was a handler for a USR spy, and who always kept Caine’s identity secret, would continually feed him information like this. It was the only way that the dictator could keep his and the Elders identities secret, but still be in the know about what was going on in their country.
The Agent in question, William Sullivan, was investigating the suspected rebels who worked for the USR. Caine knew where those men worked, so he knew that it was imperative that anyone working in that factory be put to justice as quickly as possible. The potential of something getting leaked or, far worse, something getting stolen to use against the USR was far too great to not take seriously. Caine told the operator to make sure that the problem was dealt with or that spy could kiss his ass good-bye. After he shouted this into the phone, he slammed it on the cradle.
Whenever he felt like this, like the rage inside of him would take over, he always looked down at his citizens and the feelings inside began to calm down. He knew that it was only fitting that a man as enlightened as him should lead those imbeciles down there. There were times when he felt bad about thinking of his fellow man in that light, but then again, the rationalization always came that his knowledge was above that of the citizens under his rule. Because of that, it was only fair.
Once satisfied, his mind quickly switched to the meeting he was about to conduct with Blackman. There were a lot of things about the former general that Caine didn’t care for, mainly that the old man, even though he changed his ways, at one point fought for the United States. That sickened him to a new kind of disgust to even think about it. He also didn’t like Blackman’s in your face, you’re going to respect me, attitude. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with that attitude, but for anyone other than himself, Caine saw it as a character flaw.
Blackman sure did have a grand plan, though. For that, Caine could respect the man. At least he knew how to up the ante on those lesser beings below. Having not only Agents on every corner, but also the military patrolling the streets now would ensure that those citizens would never get out of line. Caine and his fellow leaders knew what was right and now the citizens below would fall in line and live out what was right, too. The thought of it brought a smile to Caine’s face just as the doorbell to his office rang.
Caine pushed the red button on his desk. “Come in.”
The door immediately opened. At other end stood Blackman, like always standing in perfect posture, and next to him was a middle aged military grunt. The man had a thick, black goatee around his mouth, his head shaved to the skin. Caine rationalized that the man next to Blackman was the one the ex-general had talked about. It brought another smile to the dictator’s lips.
When they were finally seated in front of Caine’s desk, he offered them glasses of water, but both declined. This refusal for something that Caine freely offered got under his skin a bit, but he let it go, too excited to hear what the two military shits were going to say. It took him a second to collect himself after the refusal, but he quickly asked Blackman to introduce him to the military man seated next to him.
“This is Lieutenant Guy Masters,” Blackman said. “A rising star in our military.”
“Nice to meet you, Lt. Masters.” Cai
ne said with a salute.
Masters saluted back, picking up on the sarcasm of the gesture. “Pleasure’s mine.”
Blackman went on to explain all of Masters’s accomplishments while fighting for the USR. The whole time that he spoke, Masters just stared with ice coldness at Caine. The dictator just stared right back. The stare that he received was like a double edge sword. He really liked the aggressiveness of the man who would be a leader in the next phase. The fact that he was unafraid, knowing who he was dealing with, to just stare like he could snap at any moment, rush the table, and kill Caine was seen as a good thing. It was also a negative. Caine started to get the feeling, after the positive thoughts left him, that Masters could be a loose cannon.
It was around the time when Blackman got to the medals Masters earned that Caine started to raise his hand for silence. The medals, those were things that Caine wanted banned from the USR military. The sight of old war vets, like Blackman, brandishing their medals around like trophies sent a crawling sensation up his skin. When the regime change happened, and he arose to dictator, he said that his military would never wear such things. But, alas, he was voted out by other Elders and top military leaders. Not wanting to get on their bad sides too early, Caine gave in, something of a rarity for him.
“That’s about enough, General.” Caine said. He still grew disgusted at calling Blackman that. It wasn’t like he earned the title of General fighting for the USR. It was a title that carried over from the past.
Blackman sighed. “What are your thoughts, sir?”
“Let me ask you a question, Guy.”
Masters leaned forward with same blood thirsty stare on his face. “Go ahead.”
“Do you know what it is that we are asking you to do?” Caine wondered.
“Of course, you are going to send me and my men out there to root out the resistance. Whatever it takes.”
“Do you know what kind of measures you will have to take?”
The stare started to dissipate for a moment and a smile started to grow on Masters’s lips. Caine was pleased. The right man for the job had been picked after all.
Masters sat tall in his chair. “Listen, I’ve been at this game long enough to know that some citizens out there are going to have to be sacrificed for the greater good. The ends justify the means, that’s my philosophy. Always lived by that. Don’t you worry about me and my men turning chicken shit if we have to sacrifice some quote ‘innocent’ civilians.”
Caine clapped his hands together. As he mouthed the word ‘bravo’ he looked over to Blackman who didn’t look too pleased at what the Lieutenant had just said. There was always something about Blackman that wanted to hold on to the past. The fact that he was a leftover, a decorated leftover at that, added to Blackman’s mixed feelings. The mixed feelings were never enough to warrant any kind of punishment or anything of that sort, Caine knew where Blackman’s loyalties were, but when the mention of innocents being harmed came about, Blackman’s demeanor always changed.
Caine turned his eyes to Blackman. “Something wrong, General?”
“No, sir.” Blackman replied.
“Very well, then. You take the Lieutenant outside and acclimate him with the team. And, Guy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do remember that what you’ve seen today is to be kept with the utmost secrecy. If we ever find out you’ve told anyone, even one of the little grunts under your command, anything about who we are, you will suffer a terrible fate that you can’t possibly imagine.”
“Understood, sir.”