Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2)

by Cotton, Brian

  “So nice to finally meet you.” Sanders said as his arm moved down and he held out his hand.

  “Pleasure’s all mine,” Harvey replied, embracing the handshake. “This is my team, one is away sleeping, but here they are.”

  “Nice to meet all of you.” Sanders said.

  Harvey’s unit all said how it was a pleasure to meet him, too, all that bullshit. They then followed Harvey’s order when he told them to go and help Sanders’s squad with setting up their camp. With a laugh, he told them that it would be a great bonding experience. As they moved out to set up camp, Harvey brought Sanders to his tent. Inside, a pot of coffee was already brewed as evidenced by the steam which rose from the top. Harvey poured himself out a cup then offered one to Sanders. The old war veteran accepted the cup and downed it in one gulp. He handed the empty cup to Harvey for another round.

  “How can you do that?” Harvey asked.

  “What?” Sanders demanded. “This is my normal routine.”

  “You don’t burn your throat at all?”

  “Sure, it burns,” Sanders replied. He snatched the replenished cup from Harvey’s hand. “But, you can’t be a pussy and let that get in the way.”

  Sanders took slow, steady sips from his cup this time. As they sat there, Harvey tried to ignore Sanders’s dick measuring contest. His friend would do that from time to time when they spoke on the telecom. Harvey was certain that this old prick had some kind of insecurity about something and so he always tried to win out in who was the bigger man. For his part, Harvey was never an insecure man, nor was he a cocky man. So, when the contests to man up came, he just ignored them.

  “What’s been going on your way?” Harvey asked.

  “Same old, you know? USR’s getting bigger and stronger every day.” Sanders answered.

  “I hear that.”

  “I hear that you have a sick one in your unit.”

  “Yes, we do. Her name’s Krys, she got bit by that population control drug a few months back. She’s still fighting, though, trying to get through it.”

  “Then, she’s a good soldier.” Sanders said, holding his steaming cup of coffee up in the air.

  “She is that all right. But, she doesn’t have much time left. She needs that cure and we gotta hope that it works on her.”

  “We’ll get it. She’ll be the first guinea pig to see its effectiveness.”

  Harvey let that thought sink in for moment as he took another sip of his coffee. A guinea pig, was that all that his comrade had become? She was human being and when she wasn’t being doped up on meds she was reduced to the role of guinea pig. This war was starting to get the better of him. The moral ambiguity of it all was taking its toll on his soul.

  “A guinea pig, huh?” Harvey asked.

  “Well, I don’t want to call her a test subject.”

  “What do you think we’re going to do with this cure if it’s there and we get our hands on it?”

  “You haven’t figured that out, yet, have you?”

  Harvey shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve thought about it some, but nothing concrete or anything.”

  “I’ve got some ideas.” Sanders replied.

  This response got Harvey’s attention. Unlike himself, Sanders was a guy who could think ahead and plan things out intricately. For Harvey, he was more of a visionary type of leader. He saw the big picture, but his mind didn’t wrap around how to get there. Sanders, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. He could take the big picture and create steps to get there.

  Harvey listened to Sanders ramble on about his idea for dispersing the cure without detection, while also making sure that the victims they saved knew that they were, in fact, saved by the resistance. Sanders said that they would have to hack into hospital systems in each of the major cities to find out which women were infected, get their personal information, and then secretly give them the cure. Most of the women infected were already discharged from the hospital and sent to their homes to die a slow death. The ones in the hospital…they wouldn’t be so lucky.

  “So, if they are in the hospital’s care, we just let them die?” Harvey demanded.

  “No, we didn’t give them this drug, they did. They are the ones who will answer for their deaths in the next life, not us. It’s, in a sick way, a good thing that we’ve got a woman infected with us.”

  “How is that a good thing?”

  “C’mon, bub, I told you already. We can see with our own eyes if this cure even works.”

  “That poor woman is dying, and we are sitting in this tent, thanking the heavens that we’ve got someone infected? That is sick.”

  “Don’t lose sight of the bigger picture,” Sanders warned with a pointed index finger. “She’s just one person. As difficult as it is to say, she’s insignificant, we are insignificant, as individuals, in this war. It’s us as a collective, and what we do as a collective, which matters. Don’t get caught up in just one person.”

  “She’s a human being, Roy. We can’t lose sight of humanity, either.”

  “You sound like you’ve gotten soft in your old age.”

  “Soft?”

  “Yeah, that’s right, soft. Weak.”

  Harvey fought back the urge to slug Sanders in the jaw for saying such a thing. Nobody ever accused him of being weak in his entire adult life. He fought the feeling and reasoned that this was just another one of his arguments to overcompensate. Harvey took a sip of his coffee and tried to cool himself off.

  “I think you’ve seen too many battles. You’ve gotten desensitized to all this.” Harvey replied.

  “Desensitized, huh? I’ve always been a soldier. I learned a long time ago that I’m only as good as the results I can bring to the battlefield. None of this bullshit is about saving one life. I’m interested in saving everyone.”

  “And, just don’t look at our comrades as people, right? It sounds like you’re losing sight of the bigger picture.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that.” Sanders replied. He rubbed at the back of his neck and let out a yawn. “What did you think of my plan, anyway?”

  “It’s tactically sound. It could work.” Harvey replied, letting out his own yawn.

  Sanders let out a wry smile. “Of course it’s tactically sound and will work. I came up with it.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get too cocky, old man.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  Harvey yawned again. “I think it’s time us two old geezers get to bed. We’ve got a long day of driving tomorrow.”

  “The only geezer I see in here is you.”

  “That right?”

  “Yeah,” Sanders said. He stood and, as he was stretching, he took the time to flex his biceps. “I’m still in my prime.”

  .24

  Reed looked over his shoulders one at a time before he inserted his key into the front door. His two bedroom apartment, which fit his family of five, was in the basement level of a tall building which posed as an apartment complex. Most of the units were ripped up pieces of shit that had only a toilet and a shower. It was in this complex, Reed remembered, that the resistance got into a fire fight with USR Agents after the government implicated some poor bastard. He, followed by his wife and kid, were gunned down by the Agents. The government, of course, went on a tirade about how it was the resistance’s fault. Reed knew better. Despite all the long hours Reed put in with the USR, he still only managed to afford this place. But, he couldn’t bring himself to complain about it.

  Per the usual, it took several jiggles of the key to get the damn lock to unstick. Once the lock finally cooperated, it took another shoulder shove to get the door opened. It was a workout just to get inside his apartment. He was finally inside when he took another deep breath then made sure his door was locked. The tough to open door did serve a good purpose, if the USR or some gang banger tried to break in, he’d have enough time to get to the kitchen and behind the stove. He walked over there, reached behind it, and then took hold of his AK-47. He inspect
ed it, making sure it had a full mag, then made sure the safety was on. He placed it back behind the stove then went for the bedroom.

  The sound of footsteps caught him off guard for a moment. He quickly turned and saw that it was his son, Damian, who snuck up on him. After a brief sigh of relief, Reed walked over to his eight year old son. He got down to one knee to get to eye level with him. Damian was growing up so fast. With his job not only costing him long hours, but also his card games after work, it seemed that he was only home to sleep.

  “Hey, Dad.” Damian sound as he rubbed his eyes.

  “Hey, buddy, why aren’t you bed?” Reed asked.

  “I heard you walk in. I missed you today. I thought I could spend some time with you.”

  Reed’s heart sank. “It’s late, and a school night…we’ll hang out tomorrow.”

  “You promise?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Reed walked Damian over to the sink. He reached up for a glass and filled it with water. After the boy downed the water in one large gulp, Reed led him to the bedroom. Inside, Damian’s two sisters were fast asleep, one on each of the bunk beds. Damian’s sleeping spot was an old air mattress situated in the center of the room. Reed watched his boy get into it and then get snuggled up in the covers. Damian fell right to sleep.

  He shut the door as quietly as he could and then went for the master bedroom. As he opened the door, the low squeals from the hinges forced Belle from her sleep. Reed undressed then got into bed with his wife. Belle wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him in close. Reed thanked the heavens every day and night that she had not been infected. He figured that there had to be, by some miracle, women who would be resistant to it.

  “So glad you’re safe tonight,” Belle said. The tiredness in her voice was obvious by her low speaking tone.

  “Of course, I always am.” Reed replied. His lips gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

  “How was it tonight?”

  “We can’t get anything done. Everyone keeps accusing me of cheating.”

  Communicating in code followed Reed home, as well. Even though the desire grew within to tell her what exactly he was up to, as it was every night, he held back. The risk of her knowing something was too great if the USR was to bring her in for questioning. That thought just brought nightmares every night for Reed. Even if she didn’t know anything, she would still be tortured, likely killed. All he could do was hope and pray that that day would never come. He had already put her in a position to make that outcome a possibility. There would be no ounce of forgiveness for himself if it actually happened.

  “You never did play fair.” Belle replied with a slight chuckle.

  “Hey, now don’t you start.”

  Reed wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He gave her another kiss on the cheek. The way her cheeks felt against his lips gave away that she was smiling. He would never understand how she could be so happy with him gone all the time.

  “I missed you today.” she said.

  “I missed you, too.”

  “When are you going to stop playing cards and be around the house more? It’s bad enough you work all those hours in the factory.”

  “I know,” Reed replied, breathing in deep. “I’ve told you that I’m doing this for you.”

  “Are you gambling or something?”

  “We’ve been over this. I can’t tell you what I’m doing. You’re just going to have to trust me on this. It’s for you and the kids.”

  “You know that I trust you. Just…please hurry up and finish what it is you are doing.”

  “We’re getting closer.”

  .25

  Kaspar sat alone in the woods on a fold out chair. He felt an intense craving for a cigarette, but he promised Krys that he would quit. The months of not smoking went by okay, for the most part, but it was on nights like these when the cravings would attack his brain to the point where he almost couldn’t focus on anything other than smoking.

  With so many things running through his mind at the moment, the mere thought of sleep was rendered impossible. He grabbed a stick and poked around at the small fire he had built for himself. Unlike their last location, here it was chilly when the sun went down. He pulled his jacket across his body tighter to try and conserve his body heat.

  His mind, once more, went away from the chill and back to Krys. She seemed to be doing better tonight than she had been feeling lately. Sleep caught her as soon as she laid her head down on the pillow.

  He started to question whether or not they would be successful on this mission. They had been relatively successful on all the others that they had undertaken since joining up with Harvey. Still, there had been a lot of screw ups along the way, and another man died because of such a mistake. There was also this feeling of doubt that there was a cure in that building. He tried to reason with his own mind that it was just a lack of confidence on his part. Kaspar couldn’t really think of the last time that something he wanted came to fruition.

  Off in the distance, he heard the soft sound of branches cracking under someone’s feet. When he looked back, he hoped to see Krys awaken to join him for the night. Instead, it was Buck, one of the last people he wanted to see when thinking of a mission going fubar. Buck approached and, in a meek tone, asked if he could sit down next to him. Kaspar gave him a nod of the head. Buck didn’t think ahead to bring a chair with him to sit on. Since Kaspar sure as hell wasn’t going to give up his chair for him, the kid was forced to sit on the ground. He kicked at the sticks and leaves to make a spot. The kid moved his bare hands towards the fire then started to rub them together.

  “Cold night, huh?” Buck asked.

  “Sure is.”

  “Couldn’t sleep, either?”

  “Nope.”

  Buck shook his head then focused on the fire in front. The two sat in silence for a long moment. Buck was still not used to Kaspar’s introverted nature. He still grew irritated with the man’s one word answers. Buck’s mind was still filled with his thoughts about Steinner. About the mission that had gone completely wrong. He needed to get his mind off of it.

  “You still thinking about Jeremy?” Kaspar asked.

  “Yeah,” Buck answered. Son of a bitch. “Can’t get it out of my head, actually.”

  “I hear that,” Kaspar replied. Instinct crept in and he reached for the pack of smokes in his pocket that weren’t there.

  “You experience a lot of death or something?”

  “You could say that.”

  The little girl was in his arms, again. She was breathing her last breaths. Kaspar couldn’t hear it come from her lips, but he knew that she was blaming him for her death, as well as the deaths of her parents. The team…they were just too slow. He looked up and saw Krys lying down on the bed with blood leaking from her mouth. That death was his fault, too…

  “You still with me?” Buck asked.

  “Yeah,” Kaspar replied. He shook his head free from the vision then cleared his throat.

  “I can’t help but blame myself for what happened.”

  “Don’t blame yourself for that, Buck. He knew what he was into.”

  “I know, but it was my mistake that cost him his life.”

  “C’mon, snap out of it! If you keep blaming yourself, you’ll never be a good fighter out there. You’ve got to move on.”

  “You sound like my father.”

  Kaspar shook his head. “Maybe your father knows what he’s talking about.”

  “What about you? You’ve obviously experienced a lot before we met.”

  “There was this family,” Kaspar started to say. He took a moment to rub his brow. “It was one of those deals. Easy mission, get in, get the family out, everyone goes home happy.”

  “But…”

  “We arrived too late. By the time we got there the USR had already showed up. We tried…Lord, we tried so hard to save them. This Agent takes the mother and daughter into the back bedroom. I run in after them. The bastard take
s them both out. I bust through the door just as he did the girl. Seconds late.”

  Buck half smiled. “Sounds like we have a lot in common, then.”

  “No,” Kaspar shot back. “We don’t have a lot in common, Buck. Steinner was a soldier…these were innocent people that got wiped off the face of the earth.”

  “A life is a life.”

  Kaspar turned and looked the kid straight in the eye. “There’s a difference.”

  Buck threw up his hands in defeat. “Okay.”

  “Anyway, like I was saying, you can’t wallow in your own self-pity.”

  “How did you cope with that little girl?”

  Kaspar looked to the sky and then dropped his head back down. “I didn’t. Just like with my mother dying, and pretty soon with Krys. That’s why I’m so miserable all the time, I guess.”

  “What happened to your mother?”

  Kaspar went in detail the whole story with Mother. The words became almost too difficult to say the more he went into it. Buck just sat there, wide eyed at the whole ordeal. In the back of his mind, as he got deeper and deeper, the feeling of guilt entrapped Kaspar. The anger about his father also swelled up inside. When he got to the part about his confrontation with Sullivan, the kid finally said a word.

  “Why didn’t you kill him?” Buck asked.

  “It was because of the boy. Trust me, not a day goes by that I don’t think about if I made the right decision or not. And, every day that Krys gets closer to dying, the guilt of not killing the son of a bitch gets stronger.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Kaspar sighed, “Because it was not just the asshole’s son that kept me from doing it. It was also her. She wouldn’t want me to kill a man in cold blood right in front of his son. I’ve always wanted to be a better person when I’m with her. But, she’s almost gone, you know? No reason to be a better person then.”

  “What are you talking about? We’re about to get the cure and she’ll be fine.”

  “If the cure even exists. If we’re not on some wild goose chase. Not only that, but you heard, didn’t you? There’s only that eighty percent chance of success.”