Rebels & Lies

by Brian Cotton

  Chapter .17

   

  Sullivan stood by the rotten frame of the doorway. Inside, Thomas and his girlfriend Francis were supposedly constructing their plot to bring down the mighty USR. The drive here didn’t put to rest his doubts about the suspects. In fact, the doubts increased. He announced a brief moment before that there were Agents outside who just wanted to talk. No response, yet. Another knock on the door, this time he put more force behind his fist. No response.

  “USR!” Sullivan yelled. “Don’t make us kick the door in!”

  “Sully,” Mason cried. “Quit dicking around over there and kick that door in!”

  Sullivan glanced over at Wilcox who gave him a blank stare back. His heart began to race and failed in its attempt to escape the ribcage. He turned his body to the door. It wouldn’t take much to kick in this piece of shit. Behind the full force of a right kick, the door gave way and splinters from the door frame flew through the stale air. Sullivan retrieved his Glock and pointed it straight forward. From behind, he could feel his two partners pushing him out of their way.

  No sign of the suspects in the living room, the young pricks would force the Agents to search for them. They were found huddled together inside of the bedroom closet. Thomas struggled to cover up Francis as she screamed aloud. Sullivan peered into the young boy’s terrified eyes. They were not the eyes of a hardened rebel who plotted against a powerful government.

  “Thomas Everson?” Sullivan asked.

  “Yes, officer?” Thomas replied.

  “My name is William Sullivan, I’m with the USR. We just want to talk.”

  “Tommy,” Francis cried. “What is this all about?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. Can you at least explain to us what’s going on first?”

  Sullivan started to say something before Mason moved in towards the closet. Sullivan tried to move forward, but his shoulders were met with the powerful grip Wilcox’s hands. Mason pulled out his Glock and pointed it straight in Thomas’s face.

  “What do ya think this is?” Mason demanded.

  “I…don’t know, sir.” Thomas replied.

  “Move into the living room and sit your asses on the couch. You don’t speak, move, or shit without our permission, do you follow?”

  “Yes.” Thomas replied. Francis nodded her head.

  “Now, move!”

  The scared kids got up from their huddled position inside the closet. Sullivan couldn’t bear to look the two in the eye when they walked past. Mason and Wilcox started to walk out of the bedroom, but Sullivan told them to huddle up. They did so and shook their heads at their boss.

  “This doesn’t feel right,” Sullivan said.

  “What doesn’t?” Wilcox asked.

  “These are not members of the resistance, I guarantee you that.”

  Mason moved forward. “Look, Forte is good at what he does, unlike you. Look at the old man he brought us last time. If Forte says they’re rebels, they’re rebels.”

  Wilcox chimed in, “Yeah, just who are you working for, anyway?”

  “I’m just saying, my gut is telling me they are innocent.”

  “Well,” Mason said. “My trigger finger’s tellin’ me that you are one of them. And these two are valuable assets to you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sullivan asked. He moved in towards his accuser.

  “Let’s go question our suspects,” Wilcox said. He moved to the door. “Find out for ourselves.”

  Asshole, Sullivan thought. He shook his head and followed Wilcox into the living room. Mason stayed behind and started to flip the bedroom, looking for a good spot to plant evidence, no doubt. Outside, Thomas’s eyes were filled with fear, Francis’s with tears. Sullivan holstered his weapon upon approach. The scared boy wrapped his scrawny arms around his lover. Much like Sullivan used to do with Julie.

  “Stay away from her.” Thomas cried.

  “Nobody is hurting anyone,” Sullivan replied. “We just need to talk, like I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “Talk about what?”

  Wilcox intervened, “Talk about your involvement with the terrorists you see on the news every day.”

  “Do I look like a terrorist to you?” Thomas pleaded. “I couldn’t even hack it in the academy.”

  “I’m thinking that’s why you joined. Hm? Prove us wrong? Is that whore you’re banging right now your payment from them?”

  “Don’t you call her a whore!”

  Wilcox pointed his gun at the scared woman. She screamed and Thomas moved his body on top of hers. The Agent kept the gun trained on Thomas. The Agent began to laugh at the pathetic sight in front of him. The boy’s face remained determined. He was ready to die for his girlfriend. Sullivan turned to Wilcox, whose laugh was gone, his eyes trained on the sitting ducks.

  “DeMarcus, lower your weapon.” Sullivan ordered.

  “Hell, no.” Wilcox answered, ready for the kill.

  “I said lower your weapon. Go to the bedroom and help George, now!”

  “Fine,” Wilcox replied. He lowered his weapon but did not holster it. “But, when I find something, I’ll be back for this Tommy boy bitch.”

  Wilcox turned his back and avoided eye contact with his superior. Thomas’s attention now focused on Sullivan, but his body remained on top of Francis.

  “I just want to talk.” Sullivan said again. He inched towards the couple.

  “You stay away from her.” Thomas said.

  “Just relax. Nobody is getting killed here today. Not on my watch.”

  The boy kept his eyes on Sullivan. He moved himself slowly away from Francis and sat down next to her. The tears from the poor woman’s eyes caused her black makeup to run down her cheeks. The Agent reached into his pocket for a handkerchief.

  “What is this all about?” she asked, her voice shaken.

  “Miss Berlovski, someone has implicated you and your boyfriend as being members of the resistance. We’re only here to check things out, so remain calm and you’ll make it out of here.”

  “Be calm?” she asked. “With those two mad men in here? That black guy just now, he would’ve killed us without blinking.”

  “Don’t worry about him. He knows who’s in charge.” Sullivan lied.

  The loud banging noises from the bedroom, not to mention Wilcox’s manic behavior, did nothing in Sullivan’s increasingly vain attempts at calming the couple down. The gears inside his head started to go into overdrive. He didn’t want to see an innocent couple be sent to prison to await execution. They would be lucky to last that long, he knew, with Mason and Wilcox in the other room.

  First things first, keep them calm. If one or both panicked right now and did something stupid, there would be no way out. They would be shot dead and left to rot on their torn furniture. The sight of that old woman’s eyes crept back into Sullivan’s mind. Not today, no innocent blood would be spilt. Get them out of here alive and worry about the rest later. Give Fitzpatrick a chance to change his mind. No matter how slim a chance that would be, it was better than the alternative.

  “How long have you two been living here?” Sullivan asked.

  “Almost two years,” Thomas replied over a loud thud from the bedroom. “What are they doing in there?”

  “Looking for contraband. Just standard procedure.”

  “If they break all my stuff in there, do I get reimbursed?”

  “Afraid not, but your mind should be focused on getting out of here alive.”

  “Okay…what are you going to do to help us?” Francis asked.

  Sullivan bent down to one knee and motioned for the two to come closer. They obeyed. He kept his voice no louder than a whisper.

  “I believe you,” Sullivan said.

  “Then why are you here?” Thomas demanded in a low voice.

  “It’s my job, I can’t disobey my orders.”

  “What about those men?”

  “They are…mor
e determined to see you killed here today.”

  Francis wanted to scream, but Sullivan placed his right index finger over his lips. She contained herself, but more tears started to flow down her freckled cheeks. She moved in towards Thomas, placed her arms around his neck, and squeezed. The boy kept his full attention on Sullivan.

  “What are you going to do about them?”

  “I’m working on that, but you two have to remain calm. Don’t give them any reason to kill you. Cooperate with us. Let us take you to the station and…”

  “No way.” Thomas said, his voice grew a notch louder. “We won’t last ten seconds in there. I went to the schools, you know. I know what happens to people who are accused of such a crime.”

  “You want to be shot?” Sullivan asked. He checked his voice and lowered it. “Believe me when I tell you that those two men would love nothing more than to execute you right here.”

  “Found something!” Mason called from the bedroom.

  “Oh, shit.” Sullivan said. He stood back up and his heart rate quadrupled.

  He looked back down at Thomas with wide eyes. The only hope now rested with the young couple to give into reason and cooperate. He hoped that the girl would not screw this whole thing up with her screams. Sullivan looked behind to Mason who held up a letter in the air like a trophy.

  “Where did you find it?” Sullivan asked.

  “In the floor boards—behind the desk. Sneaky bastards.”

  The smell of bullshit filled the air. Mason moved in on the young couple and Thomas resumed his position on top of Francis. Wilcox moved in with his gun trained. Sullivan moved in front of the men and held his right hand out.

  “You guys put that there!” Francis screamed.

  “You shut up!” Mason shouted. “We have a witness who swears you are resisters. And now we find this. Coincidence—I think not.”

  “Now,” Sullivan said, “let’s just wait a minute here.”

  “The time for talk is over, Sully.” Wilcox said. “Get out of the way before I kill you first.”

  Sullivan held his ground. He remained in front of the two dipshits. Wilcox moved his gun from the couple to his superior. Mason grabbed him by the side with both hands and moved Sullivan out of the way. He shoved the letter in Thomas’s face. The boy’s eyes began to water for the first time, no longer capable of staying strong for his girl.

  “Tell us who sent this to you or we’ll kill you!” Mason demanded.

  “It’s not mine. You planted that and you know it.”

  Mason balled his right fist and slugged the boy in the jaw. Thomas kept his head to the side and panted. The boy moved his fear stricken eyes to Sullivan. Get us out of here alive, the eyes said. Come through on your promise. Our lives are now in your hands.

  “They’ll talk at the station.” Sullivan said.

  “Why?” Mason replied. “So you can sweet talk the cap into letting them walk?”

  “No, we can get a lot more done over there without you two flashing steel in their faces.”

  “You seem awful concerned for their safety.” Wilcox said. “You are one of them, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not.” Sullivan said. “And, I would advise against making such accusations in the future.”

  “You little bitch,” Wilcox fired back. “What are you going to do about it? Blow Fitzpatrick’s wad again to get another promotion?”

  “We are taking them in. Come on, Thomas, settle your girlfriend down and…”

  “No, I’ve had enough of your charity. Dee, do the girl first.”

  “With pleasure,” Wilcox replied.

  Mason’s monstrous hands grabbed the skinny boy’s shirt and tore him off of Francis. She started to scream without control once more. Thomas did his best to fight Mason off, but it was no use. The Agent threw him off of the couch. When he tried to get up, his face was met by Mason’s boot.

  Wilcox aimed and prepared to fire.

  “Wait,” Thomas said underneath Mason’s boot. “Wait, wait. I’ll tell you what I know, just don’t pull that trigger.”

  Sullivan’s curiosity piqued. Mason lifted his boot off of the boy’s face. Thomas picked himself up. Maybe Sullivan had under estimated him all along. What did he have up his sleeve? The boy took a seat on the torn couch.

  “What do you know?” Mason ordered.

  “I…” Thomas searched his mind for an answer. “Don’t know much. I…only deliver messages, you know?”

  “Not good enough.” Mason said. He fired a round into the couch and aimed the gun at Thomas.

  “Oh-kay. I meet with them…once a week, today actually.”

  “Where?”

  “Down by the…”

  “Stop stuttering.” Wilcox demanded. He moved his gun and fired a round into the wall inches from Francis’s left cheek.

  “You’ve got guns, I’m rattled.”

  “Get un-rattled.”

  Sullivan could see the wheels turn inside of Thomas’s mind. He searched for something, anything, to get off of that couch alive. The Agent wanted to help but knew he couldn’t. It was all up to the boy to do something to buy some time. In his mind, Sullivan urged Thomas on.

  “I know one of their leaders.” Thomas said.

  Good job, buy yourself some time, that’s good.

  “Who?” Mason asked.

  “If I tell you, promise you’ll let us go.”

  “I can promise you the girl,” Mason replied. “I can’t promise you. Speak!”

  “It’s him.” Thomas said. He pointed his index finger towards Sullivan.

  The two shitheads turned to face their superior. Sullivan kept his eyes trained on Thomas. To save his own neck, the boy betrayed him. Mason moved in on him. He put his hands in the air and told them to wait a minute. The boy moved back over top of Francis who put a death grip around his neck.

  “Well,” Mason said. “Lookie what we got here.”

  Wilcox chimed in, “I knew it. All this time you’ve been pussy footing around, wanting us to spare this guy or that guy. Now, we know why.”

  “Now,” Sullivan said.  His eyes were wide as he held both hands in front. “Wait just a minute here. He’s lying.”

  “Prove it.”

  “You’ve got him scared shitless over there, what else is he going to do?”

  “You promised to get us out of here.” Thomas cried.

  “You shut up!” Sullivan yelled back.

  “William Sullivan,” Mason said. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to surrender your firearm and come with us. Now.”

  Heart racing now, Sullivan was forced to come up with another solution. If the two clowns in front of him bought the bullshit being sold, they would kill Sullivan in an instant. Not only that, they would go after his family for fear that they, too, were aiding the resistance. His wife would be the next to go. And, then, little Davie…

  He shook his head. Pull yourself together, get back in control.

  “That kid over there is lying to try and get out of this!” Sullivan cried.

  “Why?” Mason demanded.

  “Don’t be naïve. Didn’t the little shit, just ten seconds ago, swear that he was not a member of the resistance? You put a gun in his face and, all of a sudden, he is? Come on, you’ve been an Agent long enough.”

  “I lied…” Thomas said. “I am a member of the resistance and he is, too. I see him at all of the meetings.”

  Sullivan turned to Thomas, “What are you trying to gain here? What do you think is going to happen? They kill me, sure, but do you really believe that you are getting out of this alive? You’ve just signed your own death warrant.”

  “An exchange…” Thomas muttered.

  “Now, we’re talking.” Wilcox said.

  “What kind of exchange?” Mason asked.

  “I’ll leave town, right here, right now. I swear to you that I’ll cut all ties with them. I’ll take Francis with me and go.
He’s one of their leaders and…”

  “Choose your next words wisely, boy…” Sullivan said.

  “You can take him. Just let us go.”

  Mason turned back over to his superior and shrugged his shoulders. Sullivan’s mind ran a marathon, he tried to help the boy out, but the boy’s own ignorance doomed him. The cold truth was that Mason and Wilcox were going to kill the couple anyway. The boy did not know who he tried to make a deal with. But, Sullivan knew, all too well.

  “I don’t buy it.” Mason said. He turned his attention back to Thomas. “Not Sully over here, his nut sack ain’t big enough for something like that.”

  “He plans out the operations…I’m telling you the truth. Just let me go.”

  “George,” Wilcox said, his gun moved from Thomas to Sullivan. “I think he’s telling the truth. Let’s do Sully in, let them go. They are insignificant anyway.”

  “Dee’s right,” Mason said, his gun moved to Sullivan. “As always.”

  A decision needed to be made and fast. The boy already made his and Sullivan knew the score. The USR, so desperate to find the members—leaders—of the resistance that the mere mention of being a part of it put one on the fast track to public execution. It was just like Fitzpatrick said. Sullivan cursed himself and his conscience. He peered into the boy’s scared eyes, Francis was out of view behind him.

  Wilcox moved in and reached for the gun attached to Sullivan’s belt. Mason with his gun trained to his superior’s head, a clean shot if any swift movements were attempted. The sight of the couple huddled together on the couch brought back good memories of when he and Julie were on good terms. He thought about how they used to hold each other, just like that, all night long…that settled it. He could not put his family through that, even though his wife hated him right now, there was still a chance…

  A strong pair of hands gripped the gun in the holster.

  “You want me to prove my innocence?” Sullivan asked.

  “What?” Mason asked.

  “We all know this guy is full of shit and you are going to kill him anyway.”

  “How are you going to prove your innocence?”

  “Put that gun down and I’ll show you.”

  “I won’t put the gun away until you prove something to me. Do what you gotta do. Dee, let him be.”

  Wilcox released his grip on the weapon then took a few steps back. Sullivan kept his stare into Thomas’s tear filled eyes. There were only two options, as he saw it. He could turn and put a bullet in Mason’s head, but then there was the other one who also had a gun. No time to do both of them in, and the young couple on the couch would be killed, anyway. Mason preserved his clean shot on Sullivan and started to breath heavy. Sullivan didn’t want to kill the boy, but there really was no other option.

  He betrayed me, Sullivan thought, and now I have to betray him. Davie, forgive me.

  “You promised…” Francis whispered from underneath Thomas.

  No reply, he gripped the Glock 17 from the holster and pointed the barrel right between the boy’s terrified eyes. Thomas pushed his girlfriend away, but she came back to him. Another push and this time Wilcox took hold of her arm as she screamed for help which wouldn’t come.

  Sullivan ignored it all and Thomas kept his mouth shut for once. One deep breath and a squeeze of the trigger. The cap of the bullet flew through the air. The bullet penetrated through the front of the boy’s skull and created a chunky, crimson mess behind him. Wilcox let the girl go and she climbed on top of her former lover. She opened her mouth to scream and it took two seconds for her to muster the strength to do so.

  “Congratulations,” Mason said. He holstered his gun and clapped his hands.

  “What are you talking about?” Sullivan demanded.

  “You passed the test. We didn’t buy that kid’s story for a second. We just wanted to test you, see if you had the balls to go through with it.”

  “You bastards…”

  “He was going to die, anyway,” Wilcox said. “And, hey, you just proved in some sense you are not one of them.”

  “Go to hell, the both of you.”

  “You killed Thomas!” Francis cried. “You promised to get us out of here and you killed him, you monster!”

  Wilcox grabbed the woman’s skinny arm and threw her off of the couch. Her body hit the matted carpet and she was ordered to clean herself up. They were taking her in; there would be no point in Sullivan trying to convince Fitzpatrick, now. She would die in the gas chamber, no doubt about that.

  Sullivan stared at the boy’s dead eyes. He could not move nor could he think straight, he just stared and the guilt came faster than he thought it would. Mason’s hand on his shoulder did not register. What had he done? More innocent blood was shed today and he was the culprit. All so he could save his own skin. Was Julie’s life worth more than Thomas’s? Was little Davie’s? He cursed Mason and Wilcox in his mind as he stormed out of the apartment. His heart sank at the three popping sounds from inside.

  The Agent tried to avoid as much contact as possible with the petrified tenants who started to flood the hallway. The blood of the innocents had to be put to an end. He was forced to pull the trigger, but not just because of the boy’s betrayal. It was also because of them. Did the resistance not understand that? If they didn’t, he would make sure that they did. A new determination burned inside.

  He would find them. He would kill them all.