Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1)

by Cotton, Brian

  He laid his jacket against the back of the red couch, which stood facing a small, sixteen inch flat screen television. He saw his wife cooking something in the kitchen in the back of the apartment. Over to the right was the door which led to the bedroom.

  “Hi, honey.” Ashley Anderson said.

  “Hey,” Anderson replied.

  His wife put up that smile and, for a moment, he forgot about the hard day he endured: the low wages, the demanding boss, the deal of his career falling flat. The smell of tomato sauce hit his nostrils. He breathed in his wife’s cooking and smiled. He hadn’t told her about the day, yet, but it was almost like she accessed some type of telepathy in her mind by cooking up his favorite meal. He walked into the kitchen, pulled his wife in close enough to feel her heart beat against his chest, and kissed her.

  “Where’s Frankie?” Anderson asked.

  “She’s in the bedroom, working on homework.”

  “How has she been doing in school?”

  “Straight A’s on her report card today.” Ashley replied.

  “Ain’t that something? She’s such a bright young girl.”

  “Sure is…oh, darn it, the sauce!”

  Ashley ran over to the stove to shut off the burners. She moved the pot of sauce over to a cool burner on the stove. Anderson could not help but laugh. He got the “look”, those stone cold devil woman eyes, from his wife and Anderson shrugged his shoulders. He walked over to the dinner table where an empty plate, silverware, and a glass of ice water awaited. He took a sip of the water and the cold liquid relaxed him as it went down. He was home. He raised the glass to his lips again…

  BOOM!!!

  The loud explosion forced Anderson to drop the glass to the ground. When it hit, the glass shattering resembled what just happened to his front door. Ashley screamed and bee lined towards her husband. Anderson stood and stumbled backward as the SWAT team poured their way in. Six Agents made up the squad. They were armed with P90 submachine guns, all of them pointed in his direction.

  Stay in the bedroom, Frankie.

  After the initial wave of Agents made their way in, a seventh man entered. His getup was different from the black fatigues the others wore. Instead, he bore a gray and red uniform. The long top went down past his knees, the collar up to his chin, with the wrinkled skin of his Adam’s apple exposed down the middle. His long nose curved up in the middle and in his skinny, wrinkled hands, he carried a small leather book. Anderson’s grip on his wife grew tighter as the old man approached. The man in red and gray looked at Anderson with small, red eyes. Anderson looked into those eyes and saw nothing behind them. He appeared to be a soulless, emotionless being who merely existed to do the USR’s bidding.

  “Howard Anderson?” the leader asked with a voice void of any emotion.

  “That’s me,” Anderson replied. “What is this all about?”

  “You are under arrest. For conspiring against the USR and her leaders.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’ve come across some information from an informant. He has implicated you as aiding the resistance that has been terrorizing our city.”

  “What?” asked a stunned and confused Anderson.

  Ashley looked into her husband with wide eyes. “Is that true?”

  “Sir, I believe you are mistaken.” Anderson said. “I work for the Corporation and have no ties whatsoever with the resistance.”

  “We don’t make mistakes, Mr. Anderson.” the leader said. He pulled the book up to his eyes, licked his right index finger, and began to finger through the pages. “You have already confirmed your identity. I’m afraid that you’ll have to come with me.”

  “But…” Anderson tried to get out.

  “But, nothing, it says right here on page twenty-nine, article seven: Any citizen accused of conspiracy against the USR are to be brought to justice to answer for their crimes. You are coming with us. If you are innocent, then you have nothing to fear. You will have the opportunity to prove your innocence.”

  “How can I do that?” Anderson demanded. “I watch the news, I know how this works.”

  The leader looked up from his book. “Think of your wife and child. Do you want them to be involved in this?”

  Anderson gripped his wife tighter. He cut off all circulation to the rest of her arm with his grip.

  “No. You keep them out of this.”

  “That is up to you, Mr. Anderson.” the leader said as he put the book into the deep pocket of his coat. He extended his hand towards his suspect.

  “What’s going to happen to him?!” Ashley demanded. Her tears began to flow freely down her soft cheeks.

  “That,” the leader said, “is not of your concern.”

  “He’s my husband!”

  “Then he’s obviously not a good one, putting you and your child through this. Mr. Anderson?”

  “It’s okay,” Anderson said. He looked deep into his wife’s eyes and released his grip. “Your job is to take care of Frankie now, okay?”

  “How can I do that without you?”

  “You’ll find a way.”

  Anderson moved in for one last hug and kiss, but a pair of strong hands clamped down on his shoulders. Another Agent slammed his riot stick to the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel. He looked up at his wife and the tears started to run down his own face. He had pretended to be strong up to this point, but the sight of his wife didn’t allow that anymore, his heart couldn’t take it. The feelings of sadness were quick to turn to dread when he felt the cold metal handcuffs around his wrists.

  A horrible sight entered into his vision. Frankie stood in the open doorway to the bedroom. Anderson looked into his daughter’s moist eyes and his heart broke in half.

  “Daddy!” Frankie cried.

  Frankie ran towards her father, but Ashley snatched her up before she could reach him. The little girl wiggled her way free from her mother’s grip. She approached her father and squeezed tight around his neck.

  “Where are you going?” Frankie asked.

  “Daddy’s got to go away for a little bit. You need to go back to your room and finish your homework. Dinner’s…almost ready. Go back there, now.”

  “Daddy, no, don’t go!”

  “You have to stay behind and be strong for your mommy. She needs you know more…”

  “Enough!” the leader cried. “We must go now!”

  “Good bye.” Anderson said. The Agents behind him lifted him up off the ground. They forced him to turn around. He got one last phrase out, “I love you.”

  The feelings of confusion grew more intense. He saw two men, dressed in all black, with black masks on. They kneeled in between the opened door, their assault rifles aimed and at the ready. The resistance, Anderson thought, are they here to save me?

  “Everybody down!” Kilbourne yelled through his Balaclava.

  “Now!” Li shouted from beside Kilbourne.

  With what strength remained, Anderson forced himself free from the grip of the Agents. Ashley forced her daughter to the ground and lay down on top of her. She covered her ears and let out a scream.

  The shooting started. Kilbourne let out a three round burst to the leader’s head. The three bullets caused a spray of crimson to shoot out before the leader fell to the ground dead. Li sent two three round bursts in quick succession to the two Agents who were escorting Anderson. The Agents fell to the ground. The armor piercing rounds shredded their Kevlar.

  Two of the remaining Agents moved to cover in front of the couch. They fired blindly as they did. Kilbourne and Li took cover at each side of the doorway. Kaspar stood at the end of the line beside Krys. His body began to sweat profusely underneath the jump suit. He wanted to storm the apartment and start killing Agents, but he knew that he had to be patient. He looked down at the yellow fabric. He had to keep his cool, for her.

  Kilbourne moved his masked head slightly into the doorway. He caught a glimpse of an Agent who moved backward, looking for cover. K
ilbourne sent a three round burst into him and moved his head back to cover.

  Ashley closed her tear filled eyes and began to scream once more at the sight of the dead bodies in front of her. Anderson heard his wife’s screams through the ringing sounds in his ears. He looked behind and saw his family. He had to protect them. He tried to keep low as he moved back to them. One of the Agents in front of the couch pointed his P90 at Anderson and fired. The burst tore its way through Anderson’s back. He fell to the ground dead. The sight forced Ashley to scream louder.

  “NO!” Ashley cried.

  “MOVE IN!” Paxton ordered from the hallway.

  There were three Agents left: two in front of the couch and one in the kitchen. The one in the kitchen used his shoulder to kick over the table, the glass cups and plates shattered on the floor, he took cover behind it. Ashley started to crawl at a snail’s pace towards the bedroom. She lost her grip on Frankie, who ran into the room, shutting the door behind her.

  The two Agents in front of the couch raised their P90’s over the back and fired automatic bursts blindly towards the front. Kilbourne and Li kept their heads low and took cover behind the couch. Paxton started to move in but moved his head back at the sight of the muzzle flashes from the automatic weapons inside. He held his hand out for Kaspar and Krys to wait.

  The automatic burst tore through the wooden walls of the apartment. Kaspar ducked his head low when a round penetrated the wood right above his head. His grip on the PSD tightened. Stop firing so I can get in there and blow you away.

  Kilbourne and Li remained patient behind the couch. The clicking sound of the Agent’s automatics told the two rebels that their guns were dry. Li held up his hand, Kilbourne nodded his head in acknowledgment of the wait signal.

  Li moved his head over the side of the couch. He saw the armored men reload their weapons. The Agent in the kitchen tried to yell out a warning before he fired at the couch. It was too late. Li switched to full auto and held his index finger on the trigger. The automatic burst filled the Agent on his end with rounds. Li moved back to cover.

  The second Agent finished his reload. He tried to raise up to get a shot on Kilbourne. Kilbourne rose first. At point black range, a three round burst tore through the Agent’s face.

  “Clear!” Kilbourne yelled. He dropped back down to cover.

  The last remaining Agent dropped his P90 and ran for Ashley. The rest of the team entered the apartment and aimed their PSD’s at him. He forced Ashley off of the ground before anyone could get a clean shot. He pulled out his sidearm, a Glock, and pressed the muzzle to the woman’s ear. The Agent forced her to the right, towards the small hallway that led to the bedroom.

  “Let her go!” Paxton ordered. He thought he had a clean head shot but hesitated. “You’ve got nowhere else to go.”

  “Drop your guns, or I drop her, got it?” The Agent cried out.

  “You can walk out of here or not, your choice.”

  “The same applies for her. Maybe you should think about that.”

  He reached the bedroom door with the woman. The Agent ducked low in order to make sure his head was covered by his hostage’s. Once he was sure, he reached behind him and twisted the door handle. A kick from the back of his left foot forced the door open.

  Kaspar stood in the back, watching the entire scene unfold in front of him. The Agent back peddled with the woman into the bedroom. Kaspar looked into Ashley’s terrified eyes and couldn’t help but think of Mother. How she must have had the same look on her face before she met her fate. He wanted with all his soul to squeeze the trigger, but what good would a stray bullet do for her?

  The screams from the little girl filled the apartment as the door slammed shut. The waiting game had officially ended. The others remained calm and were careful with their movements. Kaspar raised his PSD to his shoulder and ran towards the room as fast as he could.

  Not today. Not another family. Not this time.

  “Ryan, no!” Krys cried.

  Kaspar ignored it. He ran straight for the door and kicked it open. As he entered, the crack of a gunshot assaulted his eardrums. Ashley’s lifeless body crashed to the carpet. Kaspar’s breathing quickened. Frankie bent over her mother’s carcass. Tears and screams came out of her.

  BANG!

  BANG BANG BANG!

  The Agent fell. The three round burst to his face gave him an instant death. Before Kaspar could get his shot off…that coward…that bastard!

  The little girl was shot in the chest. She was still alive, but struggled to draw a breath. She did not cry and Kaspar wondered if she felt anything at all. He knelt down and lifted her off of the ground. Krys let out a cry before she stormed out of the room. The others stood there in stunned silence.

  “It’s okay,” Kaspar mumbled to Frankie. “It’s okay.”

  A cough came from the girl. She continued her vain attempt at breathing. Kapsar looked into the eyes of a dying child. It wasn’t fair. She should be playing with dolls or learning new things from her books. So full of life she must have been. But, now at such a young age, she breathed her final breath.

  Why didn’t you come sooner? You weren’t fast enough! My family and I are dead now because you were too slow.

  Her head fell straight backwards. Kaspar cursed himself under his breath. He carried her to her mother. He placed her on Ashley’s chest and then wrapped Ashley’s arms around her daughter’s body. When Kaspar stood back up, nothing but rage consumed him.

  Mother, she was one thing, but a little girl? What kind of monsters was he really dealing with?

  Kilbourne and Li moved to the living room and kept their guns trained at the shattered frames of the front door. Krys stood in silence by the shot up couch. Her PSD lay on the ground. Li bent down and picked up the gun, handing it to Krys. She took it from him and pointed it at the front door as well.

  Back in the bedroom, Paxton touched Kaspar on the shoulder. The old veteran knew that they would not have much time. Someone no doubt had called the emergency number at the sound of the gun fire.

  “You did all you could.” Paxton said.

  “It wasn’t good enough for them.”

  Kaspar moved past Paxton into the living room. The others began to file out. He felt a nudge from his leader behind him. In that instant, nothing else mattered to Kaspar, not even his own life. He felt the urge to go out in a blaze of glory, taking out as many Agents with him as possible. It was not just personal anymore, he thought, trailing behind the others out of the apartment.

  They had to be stopped. They had to be.

  ***

  Sullivan stood outside the apartment building. The high pitched sirens in the background filled his ears. He waited with his hand attached to his department issued Glock. He knelt down by a waist high bush when he saw two armed men walk at a brisk pace: it was them. He noticed the all black attire and black masks that hid their identities. He thought better of trying to take two of them down at the same time. The men started to race towards an armored USR van, which showed its age, just like the one the witness described to him earlier. He watched as two more ran outside. Sullivan’s heart rate began to increase. Four on one weren’t terribly good odds. Then it happened. He almost couldn’t believe it.

  Kaspar walked out of the building, PSD at his shoulder, ready for anything. The sirens began to get closer. Kaspar hoped within himself that he could catch some of the Agents before they stormed the building.

  Sullivan waited for the last gunman to move past him. No way of knowing if he was the last one, but Sullivan didn’t have the time or the patience to wait and find out. He kept his upper body low, moved his feet quickly but with little sound, and his gun hand rested behind his back on his tailbone. The roar of the van’s engine filled the night air. Sullivan moved fast. His plan now became to take the man hostage. Those resistance cowards would flee for sure, eager to get away before the Calvary arrived. He made his move.

  Kaspar froze. He felt the hard steel of handgun pressed
against the back of his skull. He let loose of his gun and raised his hands straight up. The sound of the sirens grew louder. They were getting closer.

  Not like this, Kaspar thought, not now.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ move!” Sullivan barked.

  Sullivan reached down Kaspar’s thigh, his hand moved towards the Beretta inside the holster. He started to unbuckle the holster as the van began to move. Sullivan had what he came for…

  A sharp blow to the head caused the Agent to fall to the ground, unconscious. Kaspar looked over and could tell by her height that Krys was his savior. She used the stock of her PSD to hammer in Sullivan’s skull.

  “Let’s go!” Krys yelled.

  He said nothing and followed her into the back of the van. They each grabbed a door in the back and slammed them shut as they entered. Kaspar sat down on the bench. The van, with Kilbourne behind the wheel, sped forward. After several long minutes, Paxton shouted from the front that they were clear.

  They had made it. Thanks to Krys, Kaspar had made it. The Andersons did not. Kaspar ripped the mask off of his head and threw it to the ground. He then slammed his fist into the side of the van. Thoughts of Mother filled his mind. He looked down at the yellow fabric and talked to her. He told her he was sorry, but his eyes were opened now.

  In that moment, he wished it didn’t take the life of a small girl to bring him back.

  Thirty-Five

  There was silence inside the safe house. Kilbourne sat with Krys on the couch. His arms were wrapped around her shoulders as she wept, her head buried in his chest. Li sat on the opposite couch, alone in thoughts, mask still on. Paxton and Clarke were in the briefing room, trying to figure out what happened and how to prevent it again.

  Kaspar stood alone in the kitchen. His right hand gripped the handle his PSD that he never let go of since their escape. Mother entered in his thoughts. He knew that he couldn’t quit now; she would want him to continue fighting. This could not be allowed to happen to another family. Kaspar could not bear to witness it again.