Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1)

by Cotton, Brian

As the SUV picked up speed, Kaspar pinched himself to make sure that this was real, that he was still alive. How did they escape that? Boler turned out to be his guardian angel…the last person on the face of the earth he would have picked out in a lineup.

  “Where’re we going?” Kaspar demanded.

  “The Committee has a small safe house for us to hide out in case of emergencies. We’ll lay low there until we figure out our course of action.” Boler replied.

  Boler turned the car to the empty freeway, turned on the light bar, and slammed on the gas.

  Forty-Eight

  Kaspar followed Boler into the old, run down shack on the outskirts of town. Boler opened the door without using a key. He flipped on a light switch and Kaspar walked in behind and gazed around at his new surroundings. The first thing that he noticed was there were no decorations, not even an American flag anywhere. It was an empty place, with stained white carpet, and torn up maroon furniture that had folded blankets resting on the arms.

  “It’s not much,” Boler admitted. “But, like I said, we can lay low here for a while.”

  “Thanks again, Greg.” Krys said upon her entry.

  “No problem.” Boler pointed to a narrow hallway in the back. “Sorry, but there is only one guest bedroom…one of you can sleep on the floor, I guess.”

  Krys looked over at Kaspar and gave him a wink. Kaspar wondered if it would be him that would sleep on the floor. He would give that up for Krys and suffer a long night of discomfort. He thought for a moment on sleeping on the couch. The couch, however, didn’t look any more comfortable than the floor would be. Not to mention he would get to have that quiet moment with her that he desired so much during the mayhem in the church.

  “You two better get some sleep,” Boler said. “I have a feeling that tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

  Krys held out her right arm and pointed towards the door. “After you.”

  Kaspar started to move forward. He felt a hand grab at his arm. He looked over at Boler who fished for something in his pocket. What now? Boler grabbed hold of something and held it out for him. It was a folded piece of white paper. Kaspar took it in his hands, confused.

  “The Committee told me to give you this.” Boler said.

  “You spoke with them? Why?”

  “I’m not sure why. They just told me to give this to you when the time was right. So, there you go.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  After he placed the paper in his pocket, Kaspar continued to move to the bedroom. He would have to wait until morning to look at that thing. Sleep was evading him. Whatever was on that slip, he didn’t want it to potentially ruin his night.

  Once in the bedroom, he gave it a look. The white carpet was as dirty as the living room’s. There were stains of reds, blacks, and yellows. He didn’t allow himself to think about what the yellows might have been. A queen sized bed rested in the back corner, next to the cracked glass window. There was a thick, red comforter and two blue pillows. An extra blanket and pillow lay on the edge of the bed. Kaspar undid the flak jacket and placed it on the carpet. He then unzipped the top of his suit and pulled his arms out of it. He folded it neatly and placed it on the dresser beside him.

  Kaspar picked up the blanket and pillow from the edge. When he turned, he saw Krys stand in front of him. Her flak jacket already removed. She raised her eyebrow at the sight of Kaspar holding the bedding. He looked confused back at her. There was no way that he was going to sleep on that filthy ass carpet. Plus, Krys was a woman, she needed her privacy. Their moment could wait until morning, when they were fully rested.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Krys demanded, her arms folded over her chest.

  “Out to the couch,” he replied. “There’s no way I’m sleeping on that floor.”

  He moved the bedding underneath his left arm. With his right hand, he reached for the door handle. Krys moved her body in front of it, blocking his path. She shook her head no. When he tried to move her over, she moved in closer instead. She gave him a peck on the lips. A hint of the adrenaline that he thought faded came roaring back. He returned the kiss then moved his head back. Krys shook her head again. She wrapped her arms around his waist. The two exchanged in a prolonged kiss this time. He could taste her as she moved her tongue inside of his mouth. As the kiss grew more intense, and Krys began to aggressively direct him to the bed, one thought came to mind.

  Could it get any better than this?

  ***

  Paxton snapped back to consciousness. He looked around to realize that he was in an office. The office was decorated with very nice and expensive furniture. He looked in front to see a solid, red oak desk. When he looked down, he saw the smelling salts wrapped up in paper. The chemicals had forced him from his peaceful slumber.

  He looked to the left and winced at the pain in his neck. The wound had been bandaged up. Why did they save him? Why didn’t they just let him die? As he was still coming to, he could feel the cold, solid steel wrapped around his wrists. He began to move his hands.

  “Don’t bother,” an Agent said. “You’re strapped in tight.”

  Paxton ignored the pain and moved his head further left. He recognized the man as the squad leader from the lab. The Agent still had that stupid grin on his face. He loved his job too much, which made him a very, very evil man, Paxton thought. Paxton coughed and looked straight down.

  “Where am I?” he demanded.

  “Inside the Consul’s office, of course. He would very much like to speak with you. He’s got a lot of questions.”

  “I’m afraid I’m short on answers.”

  Paxton could feel the tape that attached the gauze to his neck start to come free. He coughed again. The squad leader moved his hand over to the bandage and pressed firm on the loose tape. The strong hand sent a sting of pain down Paxton’s neck.

  “Don’t you worry about that neck, now, okay? We’ve fixed you up real good. You owe us your life, you know?”

  “Forgive me if I’m not grateful.” Paxton replied.

  The door opened from behind them. The old veteran kept his head down as the Agent saluted the man who entered. Finally, after all this time, Paxton would get to give the vile man who lied to the innocents every day a piece of his mind. He moved his head up to the right, once again ignoring the pain. His heart sank as a familiar figure walked past him. Paxton laughed to himself in between coughs. Of course…it all made too much sense.

  “I’m glad you can still find humor given your current predicament.” the Consul said.

  It was not Williamson. It was Pat Roberson.

  Forty-Nine

  “It was you all along, wasn’t it?” Paxton demanded. A new kind of fury entered his consciousness now.

  “Of course it was.” Roberson replied. He walked behind his desk and pulled the large leather chair back.

  “How could we be so foolish?”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Roberson replied. He took a seat in his chair. “We are just extremely proficient in what we do.”

  Paxton let out another laugh as Roberson grinned back at him. The Consul looked up and dismissed the Agent. They exchanged salutes and he exited the office. Roberson spun his chair around and marveled at his beautiful city. The crowd of citizens below started to form in front of the building with more coming from off in the distance. Roberson smiled once more.

  “Ah,” Roberson said as he spun his chair back to face Paxton. “Our guests are finally arriving.”

  “Guests?”

  “You are scheduled for public execution tonight. Those citizens down there that you’ve been terrorizing will be very pleased with the fine work we’ve done in capturing you. They cannot wait for you to answer for your crimes.”

  Paxton looked up, pale faced. “My crimes? What about your crimes?”

  “I’m…sorry, what crimes have I committed?”

  “Genetic mutation…the deaths of God knows how many innocent women.”

  Roberson stared
directly into Paxton’s eyes. “To my recollection, nobody is innocent.”

  “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “All humans have their own sins, passed down to them from the generation before.”

  Paxton grit his teeth. “Cut the shit. Why are you poisoning the water supply?”

  “You’ve already spoken with Danny, I believe?”

  “Yes.”

  Roberson sighed. “Then he’s already explained it to you.”

  “What’s your role in all this?”

  “I’m the true…Consul of this city, if that’s what you want to call me. Williamson? That old fool is just another one of my pawns. He does exactly what I tell him to do.”

  Paxton looked at Roberson’s smug face. He saw nothing but pure evil. He cursed himself for allowing the bastard in front of him to use his men for so long. It was all just one big game. Roberson created The Committee to trick Paxton and his team into doing the USR’s dirty work for them. Everything that he and his crew had done…it was all for nothing. Was this truly Paxton’s fate? In seeking liberty, before and after the USR, he was nothing but a pawn.

  “The Committee…all lies…” Paxton mumbled. “We thought that you were going to take control once we’d won.”

  Roberson chuckled. “Once you’d won? Not even close, my friend.”

  “But…why?”

  “You Americans…you had your freedom and look what you did with yourselves. Child pornography, murders, funding wars on false pretenses, corporate greed...killing yourselves with fast food, alcohol, and tobacco. We had to take back our rightful seats of power…before you animals destroyed everything.”

  “So, you decided to take control over the individual?”

  “Exactly.” Roberson said as he clapped his hands together. “Look at how low our crime rates are right now. Smoking related deaths? Non-existent now. Same goes for citizens being killed by drunken drivers. No more children being used. Hehe…no more terrorism…except for you.”

  Paxton clinched his fists until his knuckles were white. “You’ve been using us all along, to tighten your grip on the population.”

  “You…are wise beyond your years. But, you are not the only ones.”

  “Huh?”

  “When we told you and Robert about our plan…that we had Committees all across the nation, that was no lie. We do have Committees everywhere, and they all are aiding resistance fighters, like yourself, in order to spread the fear and to remind people of why the US of A was so evil in the first place.”

  Paxton tried with all his might to break free of the handcuffs. “Danny told me that you all eliminated all the resistance fighters and just used us for the media attention.”

  “He was correct when he told you that. The real threat, the real resistance fighters all in this region have been eliminated. As well as across the nation. Every major city has a group of American loving terrorists that we, the USR, support to further our reach of control.”

  “What about the individual?” Paxton demanded.

  “What about it?” Roberson demanded with a raised eyebrow.

  “You can’t just take away someone’s freedoms…their liberties. And all for what?”

  “Freedoms?!” Roberson cried. It was his turn to get angry as he slammed his fist against the top of his desk. “Liberties?! The individual’s only goal is to pursue his own interests. No matter how filthy and decrepit. He will follow his pursuits until he dies. He cares nothing for the wellbeing of others. Now, we tell you what to do, what to believe. And, in that process, we save you. Don’t you see?”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Bullshit? Do you want me to explain what bullshit really is to you?”

  “Give it a try.”

  “You and that rag tag group of rebels that we set up for you. You were so easy to manipulate, John. Your blind patriotism and hatred for the evil USR clouded your thinking. You allowed your own beliefs, your own morals, to be swept aside in pursuit of your vendetta.”

  “Everything I did,” Paxton said, his breathing heavy. “Was so that others could enjoy a way of life that I once did. A way of life that my father and grandfather died for. It doesn’t matter to me what it takes to get it done.”

  Roberson sprang up in his chair. “That way of thinking is exactly why we are needed.”

  “I’ll tell you a little bullshit of my own.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How many women do you think are going to die over your little experiment with the water supply?” Paxton demanded.

  “That is all beside the point.”

  “How’s that?”

  “A little collateral damage,” Roberson replied. “Even we can agree that it’s needed at times.”

  “Well,” Paxton said. He looked away and worked on the handcuffs again. “It looks like your little experiment took a setback tonight.”

  Roberson smirked. “You haven’t learned anything, have you?”

  “What?”

  “Do you really think, after all I just told you, that I would allow you to destroy our product unless I wanted you to?”

  Paxton said nothing. Just keep him talking, he thought. Roberson was so self-righteous that he wouldn’t be smart enough to know when someone was playing dumb with him. Buy yourself some time…to get these Goddamn handcuffs undone. His brain scrambled for any trick he might have learned in the past about getting out of handcuffs. Once he got free, he would rush the bastard. Sure, the coward would trip an alarm. But, those Agents outside wouldn’t be fast enough to prevent the snap of their leaders neck by Paxton’s hands. Just keep focused…

  “The hell are you talking about?” Paxton demanded.

  “It is true that you’ve destroyed some of our drugs. But those were obsolete. We were going to throw them out anyway. Those men, they were to kill all of your comrades, bring you in alive, if possible. If all else failed, you and your friends would have committed another act of terrorism. Looks like we’re going to get the best of both worlds tonight, though.”

  “You are so full of shit,” Paxton said.

  “Am I? How many of my men have you killed…tortured, even?”

  “That’s different. They are the enemy…you are the enemy to all those people outside, even if they are too blind to see it. What I do is called war. What you do is just plain, cold blooded murder.”

  “We are at war at all times, Mr. Paxton. At war with ourselves, culture, human nature.”

  Paxton looked straight down again, nothing but anger and frustration consumed him. He could not stand to listen to Roberson any longer. He couldn’t stand to listen to his justifications for the murder of innocents. And, at the same time, he grew tired of the Consul trying to point the finger at him and his team as being the true bad guys. He spit on the floor.

  “What about storming people’s homes? Killing innocent women and children?”

  “We had to root out the resistance.” Roberson replied.

  “Ha. You knew it was us all along. You knew all along they weren’t involved and you still went through with it.”

  “And, you can thank yourself for that. Your very existence made all of that possible. If you had only listened to me. I warned you time and time again in my Chamber to lay low. You forced my hand, John.”

  “You expected me to just sit back and watch the USR, you, tear this city apart…I couldn’t live with myself if I did. I can’t just sit on my hands and watch it all burn.”

  “You see,” Roberson said. He pointed his index finger. “That is exactly what I’ve been trying to explain to you. I pressed the right buttons, because I knew which ones to press.”

  “How about this button?” Paxton asked.

  The metal handcuffs crashed to the floor. Roberson shot up from his chair in shock. Paxton, ignoring the pain and fatigue, summoned something deep within. His heart pounded in anticipation as he pulled himself on top of the desk. The Consul pushed a red button beside his chair. He back pedaled to the wall. Paxt
on moved in fast. He gripped Roberson by the neck and squeezed. The old veteran found enjoyment in watching the most vile human being alive take his last breath. The neck snapped. The office doors flung open as Agents converged on him.

  Paxton closed his eyes.

  Fifty

  When will they just let me die?

  The armed men behind him led Paxton out onto the roof to finish him off with a public execution. After he killed Roberson, the Agents that poured through the room didn’t kill him like he thought they would. Another government official, one he had never seen on television or anywhere else before, came in with them. He ordered them to take the old veteran away. Those people outside, he instructed, didn’t come all that way for nothing.

  His heart began to pound as he could feel his feet reach the edge. Down there, five stories below, he could hear the cries of the people. They tried to hurl rocks or whatever they could find at him. In the midst of the cries, Paxton swore that he could hear a few cheers. His heart sank then, and a feeling of devastation overcame him.

  Paxton continued to look down at the crowd. The masses down there were the very people that he was trying to save. They were also the same people that he put in harm’s way in the process. That crusade was only moments away from ending.

  His thoughts turned to what he did during his fight. He felt a kick at his knees which forced him to kneel. Once again, politicians had used him. Only this time, those politicians were nothing but pure evil. He thought about what Roberson had told him, about how the USR controlled him and made him do the things he did.

  No, Paxton thought as he shook those negative feelings away. A black blindfold was wrapped over his eyes and tied around the back of his head. He knew that his intentions were pure. He knew that he tried to do the right thing, even if he put his own moral code to the back burner. What he tried to do was save this once great country. The feelings he had during the missions, the smiles he brought about Margie and the other’s faces, and his own intentions were things that the USR could never, ever, take away.

  Paxton closed his eyes underneath the blindfold. He heard the clicking sound of the gun behind him. Before the bullet tore through the back of his skull, one last, terrible thought entered into his mind.