Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1)

by Cotton, Brian

  The door slammed behind him as Kaspar flicked the Zippo to light another one. He sat there staring off into the distance while he smoked. His thoughts went back to that hut. How joyful they were at the sight of something as simple as bread. Was Mother’s life worth more than theirs? He went in for another drag…

  “Hey, Kas,” Ron’s deep voice called from the patio door.

  “Yeah?” Kaspar asked, he turned his body around.

  “Boss needs us now.”

  Twenty-Three

  Paxton stood in front of a large projection screen, the red and white stripes of the American flag reflected on his face. He looked towards his team members, who were filed in at the desks, eager to hear what was to be said. The old veteran figured that this would be a simple mission, though he was careful to keep that information from the others. Get in, get them out, and make a run for it before the USR showed up.

  “We’ve got a congregation of worshippers,” Paxton said. “They will be meeting together for their weekly service tomorrow night. We’ve learned from Boler that the USR have planned to raid that service then.”

  Paxton nodded his head towards Clarke, who worked the projector in the back. The projector was hooked into his military grade laptop. After a couple of clicks the picture of the house popped up on the screen. Paxton stepped away from the screen, the reflection on his face moved away with him. The sound of his comrades moving forward in their seats filled his ears. He knew that they were all eager; they had not been out since Zach met his fate.

  “Our mission,” Paxton continued, “is to get them to safety.”

  Krys spoke up, “Why not just tell them not to attend?”

  “We don’t know who they are or how to get in touch with them…Boler has no access to that Intel. This is an abandoned home as well, people. He only knows when this is going down.” Paxton looked up and saw a raised hand. “Yes, Ron?”

  “Do we know how many men the USR will send in?” Kilbourne asked.

  “No, we don’t. But, we do know the approximate time of their arrival, which will be a few minutes after the service is scheduled. They’ll want to get as many members as they can. We get in ten minutes before, get the religious folks out…and pray there aren’t any stragglers.”

  Kaspar leaned back in his chair and, with his head buried in his palms, shook it from side to side. He removed his hands and looked towards Paxton. He seemed so sincere about all this, but why? Kaspar raised his hand.

  “Ryan?” Paxton called.

  “What’s our angle in all this?” Kaspar wondered.

  The entire room went silent. Kaspar could feel every pair of eyes on him. He looked around and felt about five inches tall before he caught the stern look from Paxton. The leader stood there and pondered at the question without an answer.

  Krys had a look of disappointment. “What do you mean ‘what’s our angle’?”

  Kaspar cleared his throat, “What I mean is, we’ve got some church goers, and that’s all well and good. Worship whoever you want, but aren’t we exposing ourselves a little bit…too much?”

  “These people will die,” Paxton said with a look that could kill itself. “At least the lucky ones will die right away. Do you know what happens to people who break away from what the USR considers the perfect way of life?”

  “I have an idea…”

  “No, you have no idea!” Paxton cried. “Those less fortunate will be tortured, the USR will demand where the other congregations are, and the cycle continues. These poor people will die knowing that they betrayed their faith and their fellow believers.”

  “But,” Kilbourne chimed in. “Isn’t this almost exactly how we lost Zach?”

  Paxton shook his head. “I’ve told you people before that he sacrificed his life for the greater good…which is more than any of us can say. We can’t just stop…”

  “Nobody’s suggesting that, Pax. But, maybe new guy has a point here. Sure, a little collateral damage is never welcomed, but we could focus our time on other things.”

  Paxton folded his arms across his chest. “So, just let the USR butcher them, is that it? Is that really your suggestion?”

  “My suggestion,” Kilbourne replied, “is that we cut our losses and focus in on recruitments. Get our forces stronger then go after the big guns. I mean, we are going to go in with junior who’s under trained and can’t shoot straight?”

  Too bad, Kaspar thought as he shook off the comment, he was just starting to like the guy. Paxton’s demeanor changed completely. He was starting to grow nervous with the thought of losing his team’s morale. Kaspar started to feel bad about his comment. In truth, he could care less either way, so long as some Agents met their demise. He had no clue that he kicked at a hornet’s nest.

  Krys slumped back in her chair. She rubbed her hands slowly through her hair. “I can’t believe that we are even having this debate. Those are innocent people we are talking about. We have the proper intelligence and the manpower to save them, but here we are, arguing over whether it’s the ‘smart’ decision.”

  Li, the Asian kid who never spoke, spoke up. “I agree, we can’t turn a blind eye to this.”

  “Thank you,” Paxton said. “Now, Ron, if you want to sit this one out with the rookie then that is your choice, and we can live with that. But, we are going to save those people, do I make myself clear?”

  “I never said that I wanted to sit this one out.” Kilbourne said as he rubbed his right fist into his left palm. “I’d never take a mission off, you know that. I just question the timing.”

  “And, I’ve taken it under advisement, anything else?”

  Kilbourne shook his head. Everyone turned to Kaspar who shook his head as well.

  “Very well,” Paxton said. “Moving on, we know that they meet for worship every Tuesday night at around 7:00. We will sneak in there at 6:50 and get as many to safety as we can. Li?”

  “Sir.”

  “You will be watching the front door, be our eyes.”

  “Understood.”

  “Krys, Ryan?”

  “Sir.” Kaspar said.

  “Yes, sir.” Krys replied.

  “You two will be with myself and Ron. We are to escort the people to safety and keep them as calm as possible. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” they both said.

  “What about me?” Clarke asked from the back.

  Robert Clarke was the closest person that Paxton had to a friend. Paxton sighed and placed his hands on his hips. Every mission, Clarke wanted to be a part of the action, but everyone (including Clarke) knew that he was not cut out for it. Yet and still, he volunteered his services, and grew more upset each time he had to “sit one out”.

  “You’ll be staying back,” Paxton replied. “You’ll be our eyes to the outside, watching enemy movements and keeping track of radio traffic.”

  “That’s it?” Clarke demanded.

  “Isn’t it always?”

  “Yes, but I want to be out there. I want to fight with you guys.”

  “You are fighting with us,” Paxton replied. “You can trust me on that. We need you back here. We need someone with your technical skills to keep our asses informed out there.”

  Clarke looked down at the keys of his laptop. “I understand, John.”

  Paxton watched as his friend’s head go straight down. He felt like shit every time he had to do this. A part of him wanted to train his friend, but the more thinking part of his brain informed that Clarke could never handle combat. That killer instinct that every soldier needed…Clarke did not possess, nothing even close to it, actually. He belonged behind a desk, not that there was anything wrong with that. Clarke was extremely prolific at what he did. He saved the team on more than one occasion with the perfectly timed flood of Intel. Paxton remembered the day that Clarke told him that he didn’t feel like a part of the team. Despite constant reassurance, his friend still felt the same way. What Clarke didn’t realize, what Paxton knew, was that his role in this war would be
felt in the long run.

  “Good,” Paxton replied. “Any question, you come see me. Dismissed.”

  The lights above came to life and illuminated the room once more. Kaspar watched the others get up from their seats before he stood from his own. He stretched his still sore body, but he knew that he was almost fully recovered from his run in with Razor. He started to walk out before Paxton’s booming voice rose.

  “Can I see you a minute?”

  “Sure,” Kaspar replied. He turned and faced his superior.

  “If you ever think of undermining me again…”

  “I wasn’t undermining…”

  “Don’t interrupt.” Paxton snapped. “If you ever even think of undermining me again in front of my team, think long and hard about it. I give the orders here, you understand me? If you are not fully with us, if all you seek is vengeance, then see your way out. But, as long as I’m in command, you will obey my orders. I told you before, if you have concerns, you bring them to me or Ron in private. Do I make myself clear?”

  “As day,” Kaspar replied. “May I go now?”

  “Go on about your business, soldier.”

  All his talk about freedoms, liberties, and all he does is parade around like a dictator. Kaspar shook his head and walked outside towards the firing range again, his trigger finger with an insatiable itch. The thought of going it alone struck his mind once more, but he shook it off immediately.

  He needed them…for now.

  Twenty-Four

  The day took forever, that’s all Kaspar could think about. He lost track of the number of hours he sat on the old cot, the one that dipped straight down at the slightest introduction of weight. The thought of how nice his old mattress was helped Kaspar to get his mind off of the mission to come. The color of the sky outside revealed that the long day was nearly over. The inevitable was about to come.

  Another thought struck his mind. He walked towards the closet and searched for the pants he had worn when he first arrived. He found them and dug into the right pocket. Nothing. Where in the hell was it? His hand entered the left pocket. He found what he sought at the bottom. He pulled it out and looked at the torn yellow fabric…

  A knock on the door forced Kaspar’s mind back to the present. He opened the door to find Paxton standing there. He held a pair of hangers with black clothing. He looked at the old man. The two had not spoken since last night. Kaspar wanted to keep it that way as he grabbed at the hangers without saying a word.

  Paxton broke the silence. “This is one of Zach’s. Might be a bit snug, but it should do until we get you fitted for one.”

  “Thank you…”

  “About our little disagreement last night…”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kaspar said. “I stepped out of line.”

  “Did you really mean what you said, though?”

  “It just seems trivial to me, but you are the boss, so I’ll do as you say.”

  “Nothing is trivial when it comes to innocent lives.”

  “Yes, sir. Trust me, I know that all too well.”

  “You have my word, as soon as things settle down, I will help you find them.”

  “I appreciate that,” Kaspar said. He turned his body towards the bed with the hangers in hand. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  The door shut behind while Kaspar walked the hangers over to the bed. He laid the black suit on top then took off his clothes. He stood in his boxers, stared down at the suit, his heart picking up the pace in the process. He worked on the long sleeved black shirt first. He tried to get comfortable inside of it, but Paxton was correct in the assumption that it would fit snug. It would just be something that had to be dealt with for now. After he zipped the top up he worked on the pants, which too fit snug.

  After he tucked the top into the pants, Kaspar moved around the room and tried to get used to the tight fit of the suit. Zach’s street clothes fit just fine. Just how skin tight did they need to make these outfits? Kaspar’s thoughts returned to that yellow fabric.

  This is for you, Mother.

  Kaspar found a safety pin on top of the dresser. He used the pin to attach the fabric over the right side of his chest. He played around with it a little bit which brought a smile to his face. Mother, she loved to knit, this was the last remaining evidence of that. Kaspar thanked the stars that he was able to find this little keepsake. To remind him of the real reason he joined up with these people.

  Now or never time. Kaspar walked out of the bedroom and walked downstairs to join the others. They were gathered around the living room all decked out in black as well. The only difference being that they were outfitted with Kevlar vests. He sure hoped that he would get one, too. Maybe it was part of rookie hazing to make the newest team member go on the first mission without it. A ridiculous thought, but with everything that Kaspar had seen so far, it didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility. He glanced over and saw Kilbourne and Li inspecting their submachine guns. Kaspar desperately wanted one of those, too.

  “You scared?” Krys asked from behind.

  Kaspar turned and made eye contact. “No, not of them.”

  “Who are you scared of, then?”

  “Myself. I’m scared that I’ll go in there and not know what to do.”

  “Just listen to your gut…and hope that your shooting has improved.”

  Kaspar chuckled. On top of sitting on that old cot all day, he managed to spend the entire morning at the range. There was at least some improvement…during the three round bursts he hit the target every time. Maybe not in the most strategic spots, but to Kaspar, it didn’t matter. He even got to shoot a little bit with the UMP submachine gun and found that he enjoyed firing an automatic more than a pistol.

  “We’ll see.” Kaspar said.

  “What’s that?” Krys asked. She used her index finger to point at the yellow fabric on Kaspar’s chest.

  “It’s a reminder.” Kaspar replied as his eyes moved down to it.

  “Of what? What is it?”

  “It’s from my mother, she used to knit these blankets, all day, and it’s all she did. This is from the one she worked on when…”

  Krys cut him off. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “But, still…”

  “I just need to remember why I’m doing this.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?” Kaspar asked.

  “Just remember,” Kilbourne’s deep voice from behind him said. “Stay calm and don’t let that patty ass of yours get the best of you.”

  Kaspar started to say something back, but the room grew silent. Paxton walked in with Clarke close behind. The old veteran carried a flak jacket in one hand and an LWRC PSD in the other. Kaspar took this as a cue to move in.

  “Flak jacket,” Paxton said as he extended it to Kaspar. “Could save your life.”

  “Sounds good.” Kaspar replied. He fit both arms into the jacket and fastened the buckles around his chest.

  “PSD, one of the finest weapons you’ll ever fire. Take good care of it and it’ll take good care of your enemies.”

  Kaspar took the gun from Paxton. He slung the strap over his neck then adjusted the strap so the weapon didn’t hang too loose.

  “I filled spare magazines for it in your jacket. Remember, the safety is on, so if we get into a tussle, make quite sure you flip it off.”

  The comment got a laugh from everyone in the room, but Kaspar did not find it funny. Did they all just think he was some kind of jackass? Paxton extended his own PSD in front of Kaspar and showed where the safety was located. He also showed how to switch the gun from semiauto, to three round burst, and to full auto.

  Kaspar looked to Clarke who had even more items for him. Clarke handed over one of Kaspar’s Beretta pistols in a thigh holster, which he fitted around his right thigh. The nerd had something else: an American flag patch with Velcro on the back. Kaspar was instructed to attach the flag to his right arm and he did so. Clarke als
o had a pair of black gloves, which fit a little loose around the fingers, but would do just fine. One final item on display surprised Kaspar the most.

  “To conceal our identities.” Paxton explained.

  It was a black Balaclava with solid black lenses attached over the eye holes. The jet black lenses perfectly reflected the light from above. Kaspar tried it on and, like the outfit, the hood fit snug over his head. He rubbed his hands along all sides of it to try and smooth it out. He looked over to Paxton through the tinted lenses.

  “You sure you’re ready for this?” Paxton asked.

  “Let’s find out,” Kaspar replied.

  ***

  Like so much else throughout the day, the ride into town seemed to take ages. Unsure if the cause was nervous anticipation or just adrenaline, Kaspar’s stomach began to crawl with pests. He rubbed his gloved hands together and his bent legs moved up and down. Mask off, he glanced around the back of the van at Krys and Li. They seemed so calm, so in control, self-assured. He wondered if there would come a time when he could ride into a mission like that. His thoughts of the inevitable unknown reminded him of the old pre-fight jitters he would get. But, something inside of him said that this would be a little different…

  “Hey, man,” Krys said. “Calm down.”

  “What?” Kaspar asked, his mind crashed back down to reality.

  “I said calm down. You’re giving me the creeps.”

  “It’s just nerves, I’ll be fine.”

  “Just get a hold of yourself.”

  Krys slung the PSD from over her shoulder and began to inspect it. Li sat at the end silent as always. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and deliberate. Kaspar looked down and noticed that the flak jacket covered Mother’s fabric. He played around with it until it rested on the side, in full view so the USR would know she was being avenged.

  He reached down and pulled his 9MM Beretta out of the thigh holster. He pressed the magazine release next to the trigger. He stared down at the gold casing of the top bullet. Kaspar wondered which Agent would get the first one. With the magazine replaced, he chambered a round, something that Krys taught him at the range, and then replaced the gun to his thigh.