Rebels & Lies

by Brian Cotton

  ***

  Like so much else throughout the day, the ride into town seemed to take ages. Unsure if the cause was nervous anticipation or just adrenaline, Kaspar’s stomach began to crawl with pests. He rubbed his gloved hands together and his bent legs moved up and down. Mask off, he glanced around the back of the van at Krys and Li. They seemed so calm, so in control, self-assured. He wondered if there would come a time when he could ride into a mission like that. His thoughts of the inevitable unknown reminded him of the old pre-fight jitters he would get. But, something inside of him said that this would be a little different…

  “Hey, man,” Krys said. “Calm down.”

  “What?” Kaspar asked, his mind crashed back down to reality.

  “I said calm down. You’re giving me the creeps.”

  “It’s just nerves, I’ll be fine.”

  “Just get a hold of yourself.”

  Krys slung the PSD from over her shoulder and began to inspect it. Li sat at the end silent as always. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and deliberate. Kaspar looked down and noticed that the flak jacket covered Mother’s fabric. He played around with it until it rested on the side, in full view so the USR would know she was being avenged.

  He reached down and pulled his 9MM Beretta out of the thigh holster. He pressed the magazine release next to the trigger. He stared down at the gold casing of the top bullet. Kaspar wondered which Agent would get the first one. With the magazine replaced, he slid the chamber back and replaced the gun to his thigh.

  All that remained now was the wait. The long and seemingly unattainable time when…

  The van’s brakes slammed down hard. The force of the stop caused Kaspar to slide down the bench a few inches. The engine cut off, nothing but silence for a few brief moments. The double doors in the back flew open with Paxton and Kilbourne waiting outside.

  “We’re here,” Paxton said. “Remember, in and out fast, this is a simple job so let’s not get ourselves killed. Game faces.”

  Everyone reached down and slid their masks on. Kaspar was the last one out of the van. Paxton parked it in the large backyard, with its tall weeds and brown grass. The large tire marks from the vehicle added to the wonderful scenery.

  “How many inside?” Kaspar asked.

  “We don’t know. Can’t be too many, not many cars parked in front.” Paxton replied.

  “They all going to fit in there?”

  “We’ll make them fit. Let’s move out.”

  The team moved to the front. All of the homes in this abandoned neighborhood were run down. Kaspar wondered what this place must have looked like before. He imagined kids playing in the streets, everybody with a smiling face, not a care in the world. The target house seemed to take the worst of it. The once yellow paint long since rotted away, along with the wood underneath. The front porch had seen better days, evidenced by the gray wood and deep holes.

  “Li, you watch our asses out here,” Paxton said. “Everyone else inside.”

  Li stood watch out front, both hands attached to the PSD. Kaspar kept up with the brisk pace of the others as they entered the deserted home. Shards of glass from the broken windows were scattered all over the decayed wooden floor, which caused a crunching sound underneath the team’s military boots. They moved to the basement door, the joyful sound of singing could be heard from down below.

  Paxton opened the door with caution. He gave a hand signal for the others to move down. Kilbourne took the lead, followed by Krys and Kaspar, with Paxton taking the rear. A sudden burst of screams interrupted the music. Shouts of calm down were ignored and only intensified the cries.

  “We’re not here to hurt you!” Kilbourne shouted. “The USR are on their way right now.”