by Brian Cotton
***
Reed never found room in his life to be a religious man. He was always too busy working and trying to reconcile however he could a relationship with his family. It was at this point in his life, however, that he found himself praying even if he didn’t know how. One more shove, and the door would give way, and that would be the end of his life.
The sweat that beaded around his forehead started to flow free down his face. His aim, which had once been steady, now trembled along with his hands. This would be impossible. He didn’t know the size of the squad on the outside, but any numbers that they would bring in would instantly beat one.
When the breach first started, Reed didn’t want them to break through the door. He wanted to savor the last moments of his life as best he could. The wait was almost too much to bear now, though. Reed was half tempted to walk to the door and open it for them. No need to make it easy, though, he reasoned. He might as well give them a little hell before they subdued him.
That last lunge forward by the assault team outside finally breached the door. As soon as the door came crashing in, Reed held down the trigger of the AK and the automatic rounds flew through the air. He managed to take out the first man, the bulky guy who was leading the charge on the door, with several bursts to the mid-section. The other men tried to climb over him and Reed took out a second one.
It was no time to get cocky, but the adrenaline was now flowing free through Reed’s veins. His once shaky aim was straight again. He felt a sense of calm as he got up from his kneeled position to take cover in the hallway. As he back peddled towards the cover, his finger remained on the trigger, sending out bursts of five at a time. The assault team grew more cautious. He managed to get a rough count of how many were left when he saw a flash bang being tossed into the apartment. Reed shielded his eyes with his lids squeezed shut. The screams from his family members in the bedroom soon became drowned out with a deafening bang which ringed at his ears.
On the outside of the apartment, anger filled Masters’s insides. How could the two men who lay dead on the ground allow some heathen to put them down? No matter, his team still had the upper hand. When the flash bang went off, the assault team finished their breach inside the apartment. Masters entered in last, bring up the rear. He heard screams from all over the basement level of the apartment building. The screams of the “innocent” brought another smile to his face. They would all have something to really scream about in due time.
Back inside, the ringing in Reed’s ears started to ease up a little bit. His family’s cries from inside the bedroom were audible once more. The sounds of the assault team moving in could be heard, too. Reed moved the barrel of his AK over the side of the wall. He let out an automatic burst.
This is no good, Reed thought.
He made a break for the bedroom. With a strong dive towards the door it was forced open. Belle screamed the loudest, but everyone inside shared in the cries. Reed mouthed the words “I’m sorry” before he turned his attention back to the hallway. The assault team started to move in. Reed could feel his family behind him huddle against his back.
Covering his family, Reed held his finger down on the trigger and cried incoherent words.
.44
When it came to waiting to protect his own life, X had the patience of Job. The booby traps around the door to his apartment were already rigged. The poor son of a bitch that opened the door would be in for a hell of a surprise. X held the twelve gauge shotgun in his hands. The barrel was pointed at the front door. All the lights in the place were turned out. The only light in the room was that which penetrated the drapes over his windows. He had been waiting in this position ever since he got the call from Reed that the USR was onto them and sending in troops to kill them all off.
For a moment, he thought for sure that it was that Agent who was talking to Reed who tipped off the USR. However, according to Reed, it was Sullivan who tipped off his one-time friend that they were coming. If it was him, why would he do that? He wouldn’t, X reasoned, so maybe he really was on their side. If not on their side, he definitely wasn’t on the USR’s side. That much was made clear by now.
In the moments waiting for the eventual ambush, a sense of guilt started to bellow up inside of him. When he first approached Reed about starting up a small resistance group to aid the others, their relationship was built on trust. He should have trusted his friend more when it came to the Agent. He should have known that Reed wouldn’t have steered them in the wrong direction. It was mainly his own desires to defeat the USR that caused the mistrust. X didn’t want anything to go wrong and at the first sign of trouble, he relegated back to his old ways. He just hoped that Reed made it out okay with his family.
Outside the doors, he could hear footsteps on the old wood. Being Catholic, X went north, south, west, east with his right hand. After the ritual was complete, his grip on the shotgun returned. There was no fear now. If this was his time, it was his time to go. That’s how he always lived his life. During the fast times of being a gang member, death was always right around the corner. X learned not to fear it, but to embrace it, and that made him a dangerous man. He hoped that the dangerous man would return for this firefight. The old X would be needed to get through this.
The door handle started to jiggle a little bit. Whoever was messing around with it was shocked to find that the door was unlocked. Would he fall for the trap? The answer soon became yes. The USR soldier swung the door open. The ax, which rested above the door frame, was turned loose. The silver end of the red blade cut right through the soldier’s face. It was an instant death and his body hung with the ax firmly placed in his skull. The other soldiers took a step back for a moment. They looked in shock as their comrade hung by his tip toes outside the door.
X cracked a smile as he waited by the door. Eventually, the soldiers pushed aside their fallen squad mate and entered the apartment. At the sight of the first soldier, X pulled the trigger on the twelve gauge. The soldier took the buck shot to the side and fell, bleeding out on the floor. X did the same to the second man who tried to enter. When the second one fell, he raced from his seated position to behind the couch, which faced the door. Automatic gunfire now filled the room.
X used the shoulder strap of the shotgun to hang the weapon against his back. His Colt .45 rested in his hip holster. He gripped the weapon then held it in his hands. He popped up from his cover and took out another soldier with five quick squeezes of the trigger. The other soldiers were quick to return fire. X ducked back down. The count of men left was four.
One solider gripped a grenade attached to his flak jacket. At the sound of the pin falling, X quickly dove to the right. The grenade went off almost as soon as it hit the ground next to him. He could feel the heat of the explosion as he finished his dive and was now behind his recliner. The automatic rounds from the USR’s assault rifles ripped through his beloved chair.
X moved his body towards the side of the recliner. He aimed the Colt at one of the soldiers and pulled the trigger several times. The rounds penetrated the soldier’s armor and he fell. Three more to go.
The three soldiers that remained started to move around the apartment. The dim light in the room didn’t allow X to fully see what was going on. Instead, he was now relying on his ears. Through his ears, he could hear one move around to where his couch used to be. X pointed the Colt in that direction and squeezed the trigger twice. When the body hit the floor he continued the countdown. Two.
X stood now. With his head held low, he made a run for the bedroom. The two remaining soldiers fired their assault rifles in that direction. The rounds tore through the drywall beside X. One got through and hit him in the back of his right thigh. X fell to the ground in pain. He crawled the rest of the way and took cover against the wall by the door frame. He could hear one of the soldiers get a little too antsy and move in on his position. X pointed the Colt in the direction of the noise and pulled the trigger twice. He h
eard the body hit the ground. One.
The last soldier moved back and took cover by the recliner. X got on his belly and used his elbows to pull his body forward. The chamber on his Colt was empty. With the press of his thumb, he released the empty mag and replaced it with a fresh one.
“You’re a dead man!” the soldier cried out.
X ignored the man. All his focus was on how he would kill the last one. He could hear the soldier outside take slow, deliberate steps towards the bedroom door. In the darkness, the soldier had no idea what was sitting on the top of the door frame. It was a nifty little device that X had stolen from the factory. It took him a while, but eventually, he was able to sneak home all the parts he needed. The thing was still in development so there were still bugs in its programing. Now was a good time to find out if it actually worked. All that was left now was to activate it.
The switch was under the bed. X reached under and flipped it. In an instant, the machine gun became active. The motion detectors didn’t pick up on the soldier’s movements like they were supposed to. The turret sprayed automatic rounds at random. Still, the solider was hit by a few stray bullets which shredded his body armor. X flipped the switch off.
Now came the hard part, as if what he just did was easy. He forced his body upward and tried to ignore the pain of his now blood soaked thigh. He limped out of the apartment, pushing aside the body of the poor bastard that blocked his exit.
In the hallway, there were the looks of the terrified tenants who came out of their units once the gunfire had ceased. They all knew X. They knew he was a good man and they all had distressed looks on their faces. He repeatedly denied any help from them. When one man offered to call an ambulance, X told him absolutely not in very colorful language.
Once outside, he made it to his truck. Inside the truck, he placed the Colt into the concealed holster on the right side of the driver’s seat. He turned the key and ignited the engine. The blood from his thigh now soaked through the seat. X ripped off his shirt then tied it tight around the wound in an attempt to ease off the bleeding. He knew where he had to go next.
He just hoped that he didn’t bleed to death on the way.
.45
Sullivan kept his head low behind the bushes. The Captain would no doubt be home soon, after a long, hard day of trying to catch the resistance. Sure enough, moments later, headlights from off in the distance could be seen. At the sight of them, Sullivan reached into his hip holster and pulled out his Glock. Those pesky second thoughts were already creeping their way from the back of his mind to the forefront. He still felt a little bit of hope that maybe he could talk to Fitzpatrick and get this heat off of him. The two still respected each other. At least there was still respect on Sullivan’s end.
He shook his head. There was no going back now. The USR had already sent a spy in after him. His employers no doubt felt the same way. The once great Agent had become a liability now. Being a liability, in this world, was not something a citizen wanted to be. Those people weren’t simply shunned away, they were executed. Sullivan already got lucky once with Little. It was up to him to make his own luck now.
The car parallel parked against the sidewalk. Sullivan took a deep breath and made his move. He kept his upper body low, beneath the trunk level of the car to stay hidden. Just as the engine was cut off, he grabbed the door handle to the back driver’s side seat. With swiftness, he had his gun in Fitzpatrick’s neck before his superior even knew what was going on. When the cold barrel of the Glock hit Fitzpatrick’s skin, Sullivan could hear the old man let out a gasp.
“Give me your gun.” Sullivan ordered.
“Will, what the hell are you doing?” Fitzpatrick demanded.
Sullivan applied more pressure. “I said give me your weapon. Slowly.”
Fitzpatrick obeyed. He grabbed the gun from his shoulder holster and then deliberately held it in the air. Sullivan then ordered for him to toss it to the back seat. Again, the Captain obeyed and let loose of the gun. It hit the floor board next to Sullivan.
“Do you realize what you’re doing?” Fitzpatrick ordered once more.
“Yes, sir, I do.” Sullivan replied. “I’m done, you hear me?”
“Done? What happened? Why not just give me a call?”
“Because, you sent a spy to my home to execute me, you son of a bitch.”
“I have no idea…”
Sullivan pressed the gun even further into Fitzpatrick’s neck. Again, the Captain gasped and his breathing quickened. Sullivan felt a wave of satisfaction at the sounds of the frightened man. He thought about how many times he had to point a gun at a suspect, not knowing whether or not that suspect was guilty of anything. The man in the front seat, he was guilty, as was the man in the back seat who held the gun. Deep inside, Sullivan knew that he was doing the right thing. He just needed to carry it out.
“Don’t lie to me, you understand? I’m the one with the gun, don’t you forget that.” Sullivan replied.
“What happened?”
“That Kevin Little, the man who you said was rookie, well, he wasn’t a rookie after all. He was a Goddamn USR spy!”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know that you played some role in all this.”
Fitzpatrick’s eyes started to dart from left to right. Sullivan could see them through the rear view mirror.
“Nobody’s coming to save you.” Sullivan said.
“Just, let me think for a minute.”
“No, there’s no time for thinking. I came here to tell you something and to give you a warning.”
“A warning? Will, is this really…”
“Really what? Necessary? Of course it’s necessary.”
“We can talk…”
“Shut up!” Sullivan cried. “Now, you listen to me, and listen closely. I’m done with your games. You tell your boys, whoever they are, to stay the hell away from me. This is your warning: if you come near my son, I’ll…”
Fitzpatrick sighed. “You’re son? He’s already been taken.”
In that instant, nothing but rage filled Sullivan’s insides. They had already taken his wife with their experiments, now they had his son? It took everything in him to not pull the trigger…prematurely. Instead, he pressed the gun so hard against Fitzpatrick’s neck and that it caused the old man’s head to shift to the left.
“What are you talking about?” Sullivan demanded.
“I called in to the Consul, told him that I was concerned about your performance. I didn’t know they would go this far, but they called me back and told me that you were beyond salvage. They were going to kill you and take your orphan son to one of the schools to raise him right.”
“I knew it,” Sullivan said. “You set me up and now my son is gone. Which school?”
“I don’t know. It’s classified. All I can tell you is that it’s not in this city. They are transporting him now.”
“I’m not playing! Where?!”
“I don’t know! If you want to kill me, go on ahead, but either way, you’ll never know where he is!”
Sullivan’s heart began to sink as he eased the pressure of the barrel against Fitzpatrick’s neck. He couldn’t believe how terrible of a father he was. All the missions and side missions he was involved in were a priority over his family. In all the scrambling around, trying to gather the troops, his son was in the background. All he wanted to do was make this a better place for him. A lot of good that did him, he thought. Now, Davie was with the enemy and there was nothing Sullivan could do about it.
“How can you tell me you didn’t know this would happen?” Sullivan demanded. “You know how our system works.”
“You can blame me all you want,” Fitzpatrick said. “But, you know who is at fault here. You’ve been getting way too close to the enemy, letting them cloud your thinking. I don’t even know why I let you back on the force in the first place. If you want to kill
me, go on ahead.”
Sullivan really wanted to kill Fitzpatrick. His finger shook against the trigger so violently that he almost accidently discharged his weapon into him. Killing Fitzpatrick, though, wouldn’t solve anything. There was enough blood on his hands as it were. Instead, he gave two hard blows against the side of the Captain’s head: once for knocking him out, the other for making sure.
With Fitzpatrick out cold, Sullivan exited the vehicle then ran straight for his car. He resisted the temptation to drive straight to Mary’s house to verify if Fitzpatrick was full of shit or not. The risk was too great. They would be waiting for him there and that wouldn’t bring Sullivan any closer to his son. He couldn’t save him if he was dead.
The guilt inside swept over him. He should’ve been there more for his son but he wasn’t. The horror that filled inside was that he now would never have another chance to be with him. To teach him how to be a good man, to raise him right in an insane world. He didn’t even know what time he was abducted which hurt the most. It was in that realization that Sullivan discovered how distant he was. How could he let this happen? How could he not know?
As the tears flowed down his cheeks, he went straight for the meeting place where he told Reed to meet. He hoped that the others got the message. There was no longer any access to USR computer systems. He would have to try and figure this all out on his own.
Davie, forgive me.
.46
X was downtrodden when he pulled his truck to the meeting spot and only saw three others there to greet him. Only Dopey, Sugar, and Pinkie were there waiting on him. He got out of the truck and slammed the door shut behind him. The others had a look of concern on their faces when they noticed his limp as he walked towards them. They all offered their help to him, but X waved them off. Just like everything else in life, he would take care of himself.
“Have you guys heard from anyone else?” X asked, instead of accepting help.
“No,” Dopey said, with his head slightly down.
“It’s been way too long to have not heard something.” X replied. “We’ve got to prepare ourselves for the worst.”
“Which is?” Pinkie wondered.
“That they all died trying to get here.”
With those words, there was instant silence as the truth of the statement began to sink in. X didn’t want to believe it, either. As much as he butted heads with Reed and others in the group over the months that they were together, they were still his family. One of the life lessons he learned over the years was that you don’t mess with someone’s family. When you started to mess with family was when things started to get real ugly.
The moment of silence became interrupted by the pair of headlights penetrating the darkness. X looked to the car that pulled up, hoping that it was another one of his friends. However, they all started to draw their weapons at the sight of the Agent who paid them a visit several weeks ago.
Sullivan saw them drawing their weapons, so as he approached, he drew his Glock, too. He didn’t see Reed with them and he felt at that moment that his day was going to from bad to worse.
“Is this all that made it?” Sullivan called out. “Where’s Reed?”
X, Colt drawn, limped forward to Sullivan. “He must be dead. Do we have you to thank for that?”
“Of course not!’ Sullivan replied. “I was the one who tipped him off!”
“Sure you did, Puerco. Or, maybe you orchestrated this whole night just to pick us off. Not gonna happen.”
“That’s funny, since the USR tried to kill me tonight, too.”
“Nobody believes your lies!” X cried.
“You know what?” Sullivan said. He lowered his gun and then threw it to the ground. With his hands placed behind his head, he continued. “They’ve got my son, all right? If you want to kill me, just go ahead and do it.”
Sullivan closed his eyes, got on his knees, and waited. Meanwhile, X aimed the Colt for a perfect shot right between the eyes. He heard some rumblings from the others and the leaves under their feet rustled as they approached. They were all looking up to X now as their leader until Reed showed up again. That didn’t seem to be a possibility at this point.
While Sullivan waited, there was a conflict of emotions going on in his head. A part of him wanted the man to pull the trigger. Not that he was suicidal, but because he failed his son, and for that, he did deserve death. However, he did want to find him. He had to find him and rescue his boy from the schools. They would brainwash Davie into becoming something that Sullivan did not want him to become. He tried so hard, even when he was still a full on Agent, to make something better for him. Being a USR lackey wasn’t what he had in mind for that.
“Come on,” Dopey said with his gun drawn. “Let’s hear him out. What could it hurt?”
“What could it hurt?” X replied with his eyes still on his target. “He could rip us apart from the inside.”
“Does it really look like we haven’t already been ripped apart?”
X took that point into consideration as he lowered his weapon. All the men at his side lowered their weapons in unison. X offered his hand to Sullivan. In a fit of shock, Sullivan didn’t know what to do at first. He stared at the hand for a moment and wondered if this was all for real or not. Finally, he took the hand and X helped him up to his feet. The former Agent then brushed off the debris from his pants.
“Thanks,” Sullivan said as he brushed.
“Don’t thank me, yet.” X replied. “You’ve still got to prove to me that this was the right decision.”
“Who knows what’s right anymore?”
“What’s your plan? Why are trying to use us?”
Sullivan shook his head. “I’m not trying to use you. I’m simply trying to figure out a way to find my son. I know that you all have access to USR systems on some level. I’ll fight with you so long as I can find my son.”
“Okay,” X said with a nod. “We can always use an extra gun, especially when we’re down like we are now. But, if I even think that you are selling our secrets to the USR, I will put a bullet in you, understood?”
“You have my word.”
Dopey move in beside X. “What’s the game plan now?”
“We go to meet up with Statue. He should be delivering the goods now.”
“What about your leg?”
“The leg’s fine, Dopey. Let’s just head out. You,” X said as he pointed at Sullivan. “Get in the car with Sugar and Dopey. You can leave your car here. No telling if the USR has your car bugged or not.”
Sullivan smirked, “How do you know that your cars aren’t bugged?”
“We’ve checked them, but don’t have time to run a scan on yours. Get in with them or stay here. Your choice.”
Sullivan didn’t have a choice at all. He simply nodded his head and did as he was told.
.47
Kaspar looked down at the yellow shard of fabric in his hand. It had been attached to his flak jacket ever since his first mission against the USR. He thought about what it meant. How it was a reminder of Mother. How she was taken away from him by the USR. The mere thought of ever being happy again with her loss would have seemed ridiculous. Then, he met Krys. She showed him how to live, taught him what love really was, and completed his life. Now, she too was taken by the USR. It seemed like an endless spiral. Whomever he could get close to would be taken away.
He attached the yellow fabric back to his flak jacket and set the Kevlar vest to the side. As he sat on the cot by himself, nothing but thoughts of Krys filled his mind. No amount of mental preparation could have prepared him for the emptiness he felt without her here. There was a sense of denial deep inside that he still felt. He just knew that, at any moment, Krys would walk into the tent and ask him why he was being such a bitch. The thought of the playful insults she would throw at him from time to time caused a rare smile to grow on his face. There were only a few ways to ke
ep her alive in his heart and one of them was to never forget anything about her.
Kaspar stood and stretched out his back. There were rumblings going around that the resistance would be plotting their next move and fast. The mystery of what this big mission would be that Harvey hinted at kept him going for the short term. He was anxious to get moving with the next thing, if for nothing else but to get his mind away from her.
According to the news broadcasts, which who could really trust those, the USR discovered that the resistance threat was far worse than anyone imagined. The military was called in to help with the problem and they took out several resistance members last night. They posted all of their faces on the screen one at time. However, they also said that there were some who escaped and they had evidence that the threat was growing. The military would now be working in unison with the police forces to ensure the citizens’ safety. Kaspar thought about what Harvey said about this big mission. He said that things would get worse, but Kaspar couldn’t imagine it getting much worse than the footage he had seen already.
Whatever the case was, Kaspar knew that he would be ready.