Rebels & Lies

by Brian Cotton

  Chapter .23

   

  Paxton stood in front of a large projection screen, the red and white stripes of the American flag reflected on his face. He looked towards his team members, who were filed in at the desks, eager to hear what was to be said. The old veteran figured that this would be a simple mission, though he was careful to keep that information from the others. Get in, get them out, and make a run for it before the USR showed up.

  “We’ve got a congregation of worshippers,” Paxton said. “They will be meeting together for their weekly service tomorrow night. We’ve learned from Boler that the USR have planned to raid that service then.”

  Paxton nodded his head towards Clarke, who worked the projector in the back. The projector was hooked into his military grade laptop. After a couple of clicks the picture of the house popped up on the screen. Paxton stepped away from the screen, the reflection on his face moved away with him. The sound of his comrades moving forward in their seats filled his ears. He knew that they were all eager; they had not been out since Zach met his fate.

  “Our mission,” Paxton continued, “is to get them to safety.”

  Krys spoke up, “Why not just tell them not to attend?”

  “We don’t know who they are or how to get in touch with them…Boler has no access to that Intel. This is an abandoned home as well, people. He only knows when this is going down.” Paxton looked up and saw a raised hand. “Yes, Ron?”

  “Do we know how many men the USR will send in?” Kilbourne asked.

  “No, we don’t. But, we do know the approximate time of their arrival, which will be a few minutes after the service is scheduled. They’ll want to get as many members as they can. We get in ten minutes before, get the religious folks out…and pray there aren’t any stragglers.”

  Kaspar leaned back in his chair and, with his head buried in his palms, shook it from side to side. He removed his hands and looked towards Paxton. He seemed so sincere about all this, but why? Kaspar raised his hand.

  “Ryan?” Paxton called.

  “What’s our angle in all this?” Kaspar wondered.

  The entire room went silent. Kaspar could feel every pair of eyes on him. He looked around and felt about five inches tall before he caught the stern look from Paxton. The leader stood there and pondered at the question without an answer.

  Krys had a look of disappointment. “What do you mean ‘what’s our angle’?”

  Kaspar cleared his throat, “What I mean is, we’ve got some church goers, and that’s all well and good. Worship whoever you want, but aren’t we exposing ourselves a little bit…too much?”

  “These people will die,” Paxton said. “At least the lucky ones will die right away. Do you know what happens to people who break away from what the USR considers the perfect way of life?”

  “I have an idea…”

  “No, you have no idea!” Paxton cried. “Those less fortunate will be tortured, the USR will demand where the other congregations are, and the cycle continues. These poor people will die knowing that they betrayed their faith and their fellow believers.”

  “But,” Kilbourne chimed in. “Isn’t this almost exactly how we lost Zach?”

  “I’ve told you before,” Paxton said. “That he sacrificed his life for the greater good…which is more than any of us can say. We can’t just stop…”

  “Nobody’s suggesting that, Pax. But, maybe new guy has a point here. Sure, a little collateral damage is never welcomed, but we could focus our time on other things.”

  Paxton folded his arms across his chest, “So, just let the USR butcher them, is that it? Is that really your suggestion?”

  “My suggestion,” Kilbourne replied, “is that we cut our losses and focus in on recruitments. Get our forces stronger then go after the big guns. I mean, we going to go in with junior who’s under trained and can’t shoot straight?”

  Too bad, Kaspar thought as he shook off the comment, he was just starting to like the guy. Paxton’s demeanor changed completely. He was starting to grow nervous with the thought of losing his team’s morale. Kaspar started to feel bad about his comment. In truth, he could care less either way, so long as some Agents met their demise. He had no clue that he kicked at a hornet’s nest.

  Krys slumped back in her chair. She rubbed her hands slowly through her hair. “I can’t believe that we are even having this debate. Those are innocent people we are talking about. We have the proper intelligence and the manpower to save them, but here we are, arguing over whether it’s the ‘smart’ decision.”

  Li, the Asian kid who never spoke, spoke up, “I agree, we can’t turn a blind eye to this.”

  “Thank you,” Paxton said. “Now, Ron, if you want to sit this one out with the rookie then that is your choice, and we can live with that. But, we are going to save those people, do I make myself clear?”

  “I never said that I wanted to sit this one out.” Kilbourne replied. “I’d never take a mission off, you know that. I just question the timing.”

  “And, I’ve taken it under advisement, anything else?”

  Kilbourne shook his head. Everyone turned to Kaspar who shook his head as well.

  “Very well,” Paxton said. “Moving on, we know that they meet for worship every Tuesday night at around 7:00. We will sneak in there at 6:50 and get as many to safety as we can. Li?”

  “Sir.”

  “You will be watching the front door, be our eyes.”

  “Understood.”

  “Krys, Ryan?”

  “Sir.” Kaspar said.

  “Yes, sir.” Krys replied.

  “You two will be with myself and Ron. We are to escort the people to safety and keep them as calm as possible. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” they both said.

  “What about me?” Clarke asked from the back.

  Robert Clarke was the closest person that Paxton had to a friend. Paxton sighed and placed his hands on his hips. Every mission, Clarke wanted to be a part of the action, but everyone (including Clarke) knew that he was not cut out for it. Yet and still, he volunteered his services, and grew more upset each time he had to “sit one out”.

  “You’ll be staying back,” Paxton replied. “You’ll be our eyes to the outside, watching enemy movements and keeping track of radio traffic.”

  “That’s it?” Clarke demanded.

  “Isn’t it always?”

  “Yes, but I want to be out there. I want to fight with you guys.”

  “You are fighting with us,” Paxton replied. “You can trust me on that. We need you back here. We need someone with your technical skills to keep our asses informed out there.”

  “I understand, John.”

  Paxton watched his friend’s head go straight down. He felt like shit every time he had to do this. A part of him wanted to train his friend, but the more thinking part of his brain informed that Clarke could never handle combat. That killer instinct that every soldier needed…Clarke did not possess, nothing even close to it, actually. He belonged behind a desk, not that there was anything wrong with that. Clarke was extremely prolific at what he did. He saved the team on more than one occasion with the perfectly timed flood of Intel. Paxton remembered the day that Clarke told him that he didn’t feel like a part of the team. Despite constant reassurance, his friend still felt the same way. What Clarke didn’t realize, what Paxton knew, was that his role in this war would be felt in the long run.

  “Good,” Paxton replied. “Any question, you come see me. Dismissed.”

  The lights above came to life and illuminated the room once more. Kaspar watched the others get up from their seats before he stood from his own. He stretched his still sore body, but he knew that he was almost fully recovered from his run in with Razor. He started to walk out before Paxton’s booming voice rose.

  “Can I see you a minute?”

  “Sure,” Kaspar replied. He turned and faced his superior.

  �
�If you ever think of undermining me again…”

  “I wasn’t undermining…”

  “Don’t interrupt.” Paxton said. “If you ever even think of undermining me again in front of my team, think long and hard about it. I give the orders here, you understand me? If you are not fully with us, if all you seek is vengeance, then see your way out. But, as long as I’m in command, you will obey my orders. I told you before, if you have concerns, you bring them to me or Ron in private. Do I make myself clear?”

  “As day,” Kaspar replied. “May I go now?”

  “Go on about your business, soldier.”

  All his talk about freedoms, liberties, and all he does is parade around like a dictator. Kaspar shook his head and walked outside towards the firing range again, his trigger finger with an insatiable itch. The thought of going it alone struck his mind once more, but he shook it off immediately.

  He needed them…for now.