They arrived at the entrance. Kaspar let loose of Krys’s hand then played around with the door handle. The doors were locked, but he could see that the locks were rotting. He pushed Krys aside, raised his right leg, and kicked the door in. He let Krys move in front. Kaspar entered behind. He reached over for the light switch and the lights flickered on.
The lights revealed old, wooden pews. They once shined with a rich brown color. That shine was long gone, with green mixed in with the light brown color. Some pews even had the legs taken out from under them from the years of non-maintenance. In the front stood a stage with blue carpet that began to peel away from the floor. Kaspar walked across the wooden floor towards the stage. His eyes were fixed on the large, rusted cross that stood in front of rusted organ pipes.
When he reached the stage, he pressed his hands against it. He looked up at the cross then closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to do, but he tried to meditate like Li would do. He knew that the two of them would need protection from…someone right now.
“I never pegged you for the religious type.” Krys said as she approached.
“Figured it couldn’t hurt.”
Krys placed her gloved hand on Kaspar’s shoulder. Her touch calmed him, but his mind was quick to move back to the task at hand. His eyes scanned the church frantically.
“We need something to barricade that door.” he said.
“I’ll help you look,” Krys replied.
On the stage, Kaspar saw two tall, metal bars with old candles at the top. He pointed them out. The two grabbed one then took them to the front. Kaspar took hold of the two doors then pulled them shut. They crisscrossed them inside the handles.
“Do you think it will hold?” Krys asked.
“Not for long.”
“What do we do now?”
“We wait. If we go out there, we’re dead. Maybe they won’t check here.”
“Maybe?”
“That’s all we can hope for.” Kaspar replied.
“And,” Krys breathed in, “If they do?”
Kaspar took a moment to answer. “We make our last stand.”
Forty-Six
Before he passed out, Paxton felt a sense of peace deep within. He had died for his country, for a way of life that the world needed to see again. It took a few seconds for him to realize, when his eyes opened, that he was not dead. He moved his head around from left to right trying to get his bearings back. When he tried to move his head upward, the sharp sting from the bullet wound disallowed it. His head slammed back down to the tile flooring. Paxton moved his eyes to the right:
3:02…3:01…3:00…
Kilbourne had succeeded. A buzzing noise now filled Paxton’s ears. It sounded like a fire alarm…or maybe the emergency exit had been tripped. After one more try to get up was unsuccessful, he relaxed his body to the ground. That sense of calm filled him once more. He was going to die for what he believed in after all.
The loud footsteps of yet another USR assault team filled the room. They poured through the room, swept their weapons from left to right, looking to gun down anything that moved. From out of his left ear, Paxton heard the leader of this squad curse out loud at the carnage in front. He cursed at the loss of all those Agents. If Paxton could move his lips, he would have smiled. Three men moved to the back of the lab, to an open door beside the white box. They ran down the hallway and returned seconds later.
“Find anything?” the leader asked.
“Whoever survived this,” said an Agent attempting to catch his breath, “tripped the fire escape. They must’ve made a run for that old church building back there.”
“Take some men with you and go after them.” The leader ordered. “I’ve got an even bigger find.”
The three in back called for Agents to follow them out. Several of the assault team members answered the call and followed them down the hallway. The leader kept his gaze on the man who lay beneath him. He reached for the bottom of the mask and pulled it off. Paxton winced in pain as the mask rubbed against the wound on his neck. The Agent looked down at him with a smile on his face. The old veteran coughed and blood started to come out of his mouth. The leader grabbed a handkerchief and wiped at Paxton’s lips.
“He still alive?” an Agent asked.
“Yes,” the leader replied. “Meet John Paxton: leader of the resistance.”
Paxton wanted to say something, but his vocal cords were not responding. He spit up more blood. That calm, peaceful death was not to be, it seemed. He would now have to wait for another one. That promise he made, back when he and Clarke started this whole thing, came to mind. He always said that he would rather die than let the USR take his freedom.
“What do we do with him?”
“The Consul wants him alive…for now. Take him away.”
Two Agents stood on either side. They reached down and helped Paxton to his feet. Paxton kept trying to talk, but nothing came out except for incoherent mumbles. His fallen comrades came to mind…then he remembered the Agents talk about survivors. Did Kaspar and Krys survive this? He could feel his feet drag against the tile flooring now. He felt light headed like he would black out again. He cursed the bullet wound in his neck. It took away his strength to fight back…forced him into surrender. In all his years fighting, Paxton never envisioned his end coming this way. With him being so weak.
The leader yelled for his men to hurry up. The two Agents that carried Paxton quickened their pace. They soon found themselves back in the lobby. They arrived outside moments later. Next to the USR armored vans sat an ambulance. The double doors in the back of it flew open. The doctors inside pushed a gurney to the outside. The Agents placed Paxton carefully on top then strapped him in tight. They slid the gurney back up into the ambulance. Before the doors were shut, the leader moved in. He sat down on one of the benches next to Paxton.
The emergency personnel inside were quick on their work on the neck wound. Paxton could feel an IV being inserted into his vein. He laid his head back and felt himself slip out of consciousness once more. Before he blacked out, he heard the squad leader say something to him.
“Don’t you die on me, you hear? We have much grander plans for you.”
***
Kaspar heard Clarke’s phrase over the radio which forced him to curse out loud. A squad of at least twelve, probably more, Agents was headed straight for the church. He lifted the PSD, ejected the magazine, and a wave of fear hit him. He had forgotten that the clip was empty and he was out of mags for it. After he threw the gun to the ground, he cursed once more. He looked to Krys. She looked up at him and shook her head. Kaspar knew that they were in trouble.
“Fuck!” Kaspar yelled.
“What is it?” Krys demanded.
“What do you mean, ‘what is it’? We don’t have the ammo to fight back against that hit squad coming after us. We’ll be ripped to…”
Krys moved her index finger over her covered lips and Kaspar quit talking. She ripped the mask off of her face. Kaspar could feel something inside as she moved in closer. He tore off his mask as well. His eyes moved from hers when she started to undo her flak jacket. She tossed it to the ground then worked on the top of her suit. He kept his stare while she wiggled her arms free. Underneath, she wore a black tank top. Kaspar’s eyes grew wide at what else he saw…
Strapped around her midsection were four P99 handguns. Two were on her side, one in front, and one in back. Kaspar moved in closer, keeping his eyes fixated on her midsection…at the miracle that stared back at him.
“Hey,” Krys said. “My eyes are up here.”
“I was just admiring your…collection.”
“Well, I always carry protection with me…just in case.”
Kaspar reached behind her and took hold of the gun at her back. He did the same with the one against her belly. He held the handles and stared into her wide, brown eyes that had a hint of moisture in them. Neither of them moved for a moment. When he could feel Krys move her head close to his be
fore Kaspar yanked the two handguns free. He moved his left index finger and felt it rub against the trigger...
BANG!
“Shit!” Kaspar cried out.
The gun had fired into the ground. The two looked down at the still smoking bullet hole in the wooden floor. Krys moved her gaze to Kaspar.
“That was kinda early,” she said. “Don’t you think?”
Kaspar could feel his face turn red. “Don’t you ever tell anyone about this.”
Forty-Seven
The loud boom of the explosion at the lab forced them back to reality. Clarke cried through their ear pieces that the team had assembled at the entrance. The two looked to the front doors to see them being pulled backwards. Their makeshift barricade would not last long. It already started to give way.
Inside his chest, Kaspar’s heart felt like it was trying to escape his ribcage. He looked down into Krys’s eyes once more and gave her a wink. The team outside yanked harder on the door. Kaspar returned attention the front. He noticed that the two walls in front of the doors would make for a nice bottleneck.
“You stay here,” Kaspar said. He walked towards the right side of the entrance.
“What are you going to do?” Krys wondered. She started to take cover behind one of the pews.
“I’m going to get us some more guns.”
“You be careful!”
Kaspar nodded then flattened his back to the wall. He held both of the guns in his hands and waited. The sound of tugging and then the barricade breaking away filled his ears. After one final deep breath the barricade snapped, sending the candlesticks to the ground. Kaspar and Krys’s killers began their breach.
He heard the light sound of footsteps from an Agent. The Agent moved in slow, unsure what to expect. Kaspar pivoted right. He fired consecutive rounds into the stunned man’s chest. The Agent fell and his P90 slid on the ground. The assault team behind him started to fire their P90’s forcing Kaspar back to cover. He reached down for the fallen P90. Once he got a good grip on it he flung it in Krys’s direction.
Krys moved up from the cover of the pew. She fired her guns towards the front doors. She heard the sound of the P90 slam beside her. After she took down two Agents, she ducked down. A spray of automatic gunfire tore through the decayed wood.
Kaspar moved backwards, firing his P99’s as he did. He took out another Agent who tried to move in. The assault team grew more cautious at the sight of their comrade’s bullet riddled bodies. They began to move back momentarily. Kaspar had his chance at one of the machine guns on the ground. He moved forward, firing a couple of rounds from each gun at the weary Agents outside.
He bent down, took hold of the shoulder strap of a P90 then turned. He made a run at one of the pews. The assault team started to move back in. Kaspar turned at the sound of their footsteps. He fired continuous rounds until the slides locked back, taking down another Agent in the process. There was a pew right in front of him. He made one last burst of speed then launched his body into the air. As he came down, a shotgun blast tore through the top of the pew, just missing him.
Krys moved up then took out the Agent with the shotgun. She continued to fire until her guns went dry. She bent back down then crawled on the floor, reaching for the P90. Bullets from the assault team’s weapons tore through the floor around her. Once she took hold of it, she fired the submachine gun towards her attackers.
Kaspar holstered the two empty handguns and shouldered the P90. He popped up to see two Agents drop as they tried to enter. He turned to an Agent who made it inside. The two killers had each other in their sights. Kaspar ignored the chunks of wood which flew around him. He aimed then took out the Agent with a head shot. Out of his left eye he saw another Agent move; flashes were coming from the weapon. Kaspar moved left then took out the Agent with a well-placed five round burst. He moved back to cover.
For a brief second, Krys moved up from her pew. A rain of automatic gunfire tore through her cover spot. She quickly ducked back down. The Agents were getting frustrated which increased their aggression. They were ready to storm the place now.
Kaspar crawled underneath the pews as the bullets flew. He crawled until he reached the set beside Krys. He moved up and rested his back against the wooden bench. He looked over to Krys. In the midst of the enemy fire, he realized that he desperately wanted to escape out of this with her. Even if it was just to see her smile again. Besides Mother, he had never felt anything about anyone like he did her. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was genuine, but there was only one way to find out…
Kaspar threw the empty P90 to the ground. He pulled the two handguns from the thigh holsters, the slides still locked back. He showed them to Krys.
“I need more ammo.” he said.
“Coming up,” Krys replied.
Krys reached into her flak jacket for two clips. She slid them to the ground. Kaspar picked them up and reloaded each gun. With the mags loaded, he pressed the chamber release. Krys did the same beside him. With both guns reloaded, she looked to Kaspar. He looked back at her with a determined look and a half smile. He held the guns close to his cheeks, grit his teeth, and breathed heavy.
Without warning, Kaspar stood and ran faster than he ever had in his life. He drew the gunfire of the Agents. He kept his head low, bullets flying everywhere, destroying everything in their path. He took cover behind an armrest of a pew. With his right hand still gripped to a pistol, he wiped at his soaked forehead with his wrist. Hopefully she got the hint.
She did. As soon as Krys saw Kaspar running and drawing fire, she popped her body up. She fired away with both handguns, taking out three of the Agents that aimed for Kaspar. She saw a fourth and moved her guns to him. She hit him with five rounds from each gun. The Agent fell to ground, his P90 fired bullets harmlessly to the ceiling. She fired at two others until her clips ran dry. She missed them.
Kaspar kept his head low and began to move back towards Krys. When he got to the pew to the right, he could hear the footsteps of two Agents. He moved his two gun hands up close to his cheeks again. When the time was right, his body shot up. He fired a round from each gun. The bullets tore through the throat of each target. Automatic fire came his way again. He fired away with both guns until they were empty. He ducked back down and cut a corner. His head remained low until he made it back to Krys’s position.
As soon as he arrived, Kaspar rested against Krys’s arm. He noticed that her guns too were empty. He sighed.
“You got any more?” Kaspar asked.
“No.”
Kaspar moved his body around and stared into her eyes. Death was a certainty for everyone who walked the earth. He reasoned that there couldn’t be any better way to go than like this. With someone he genuinely cared about. She fought like hell with him to escape. At the end of the day, they just ran out of bullets. His only wish being that he could spend just one more quiet moment with her.
The two nodded heads before they stood. They still had their guns in hand, held down low to their sides. The four remaining Agents moved in. They had their submachine guns aimed at them, ready to fire.
“Drop you weapons!” one of them ordered.
The two obeyed. They let loose their grips and the guns crashed to the ground. With their hands behind their heads, they froze, waiting for the barrage of bullets that would end their lives. The Agents moved in at a slow pace. Kaspar looked to the yellow fabric and hoped that Mother would be proud of him. He then looked to Krys. She did something he never would have expected. In the face of certain death, she smiled at him. That same smile that forced everything inside of Kaspar to feel warm. He smiled back then looked forward with his eyes closed.
The sound of automatic gunfire filled his ears. He waited for that white, bright light to come in from the distance. Instead, he felt a strong tug at his arm. Kaspar opened his eyes and felt his body fall to the ground. As he tumbled downward he could see two Agents drop to the ground. He landed on top of Krys and the gunfire from the entran
ce continued.
The two Agents that remained turned their attention to the source of the gunfire. A lone gunman fired away with an MP5-K in both hands. He took out the Agents one by one before they could even get a shot off.
Kaspar looked to see them fall to the ground. He looked down at Krys who stared blank back at him. They kept the stare before Kaspar broke it when he looked to the entrance to see who their savior was.
It was Boler. Greg fucking Boler.
“Get up,” Boler called out. “We have to move.”
Krys began to laugh underneath of Kaspar. He gave her a look as if to tell her that she was losing her sanity. The laughter only grew more intense. Kaspar smiled then picked himself up off the ground. He reached down to help the crazy woman up to her feet.
“Greg,” Krys shouted, catching her breath from the laughter. “You just saved the motherfucking day!”
“We need to move, Krys.” Boler replied.
Krys ran towards the gunman and wrapped her arms around his neck. All Boler did was pat her on the back before he pushed her away. He moved his eyes down to his thighs. He had two Glock 17’s holstered there. Krys grabbed each; she tossed one to Kaspar and kept one for herself.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Kaspar asked.
“Robert called me and told me what was going on. I was on my way outta the city, but I turned around. Sorry I’m a little late.”
“Well,” Krys said with a smile, “at least you weren’t too late…for us, that is.”
“Let’s just get out of here, shall we? The car is waiting out back.”
The three moved out of the church. They kept their guns ready just in case. Boler led them to the side of the building. In the distance, Kaspar could hear the hum of an engine. They moved quickly towards the black SUV, the source of the noise. Kaspar reached for the front passenger side door and swung it open. Krys did the same in the back. Boler settled into the driver’s seat, put the SUV in drive, and slammed on the gas.
Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1) Page 31