Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1)

by Cotton, Brian

  “Jenna Kaspar?” Forte said with a laugh. “I don’t know that name.”

  “What kind of work do you do?” Kaspar demanded.

  “I…round up your comrades and bring them to justice. Same thing that’s going to happen to all of you, now that I know who you are.”

  “Jenna was…my mother. She was killed by your people.” Kaspar said. He reached to his back for something.

  Paxton noticed it and grabbed hold of Kaspar’s wrist. Kaspar tried to wiggle his way free, but the grip proved to be too strong. The old veteran kept his grip as the kid looked over at him. He felt sorry for him, but now was not the time.

  “Go stand in the corner,” Paxton ordered. “Let us handle the interrogation.”

  “He knows something…”

  “I don’t know that bitch you’re talking about,” Forte said. “But, I’m sure if I saw her…”

  The comment sent Kaspar’s rage ablaze and, with it, an adrenaline rush. He broke free of Paxton’s grip. He pulled out the Beretta from the waistline of his jeans. He pistol whipped Forte along his right cheek. The whip caused a nasty gash on his face, the blood poured out instantly. Kaspar went in for another blow, but the oxygen from his lungs failed to come up.

  Paxton moved his hand back and waved it in the air. He didn’t feel good about sucker punching a comrade, but he couldn’t allow anyone to jeopardize this operation. He watched as the kid wheezed. Paxton motioned for Kilbourne to help him up.

  “You wait outside,” Paxton said as he looked over him. “Ron, take him.”

  Kaspar tried to breath and fight off Kilbourne’s monstrous grip at the same time. When it became apparent he wouldn’t escape, Kaspar concentrated fully on catching his breath. In between wheezes, he caught a glimpse of Forte as he was being dragged out. The Agent had a grin on his face, the grin made the urge to pull out a gun and shoot out those yellow teeth stronger.

  He felt his body fly when Kilbourne gave him a shove. Without saying a word, Kilbourne turned and walked back into the makeshift interrogation room. Kaspar said nothing, either. Instead, he picked himself up off the ground then walked to the front door. He moved over to the corner on his left. Sitting down, he let out a laugh. There was an Agent in there who might have, in all likelihood did, know what happened to Mother. Hell, that Forte bastard was probably the one who pulled the trigger.

  If only the others would give him the time to get the answers. They could continue their game later while Kaspar went out and brought about true justice. They refused to give it to him so all Kaspar could do was sit on the old floor and laugh. The laughter soon turned to sadness. He thought for a brief moment about barging into the room to take out Forte. The logical part of his brain kicked in. He was outnumbered and he wouldn’t stand a chance.

  He used all of his strength to stand up and smoke another cigarette instead.

  Thirty-One

  “It looks like you have some dissention in your ranks.” Forte said with a laugh.

  Paxton raised his right hand and punched Forte on his cheek. Then, before the Agent could move his head forward, he was struck again. Paxton looked down at the scared, yet defiant, look on his enemy’s face. The gash from Kaspar’s pistol whip continued to leak blood. The old veteran aimed for it with one last strike to Forte’s face. He shook the pain off of his hand and used the Agent’s shirt to wipe off the blood.

  “He’s still a green horn,” Paxton said. He grinned, “But, we’re not.”

  “What now?” Forte demanded. “You going to hit me some more?”

  “It depends. Do you have anything to tell me?”

  “I already told you, you ain’t getting nothing outta me.”

  “Fine, have it your way.”

  Paxton folded his arms and walked away with careful steps backward. Kilbourne moved in front and started to crack the knuckles on his monstrous hands. Upon approach of the Agent, he began to rub his hands together and flexed the muscles in his arms and chest. Forte’s expression turned to complete fear, his body shook, his heavy breathing turned to fast panting.

  Kilbourne landed a sharp blow to the midsection. He reached back and landed another one. A loud pop from a cracked rib pressed Kilbourne to go further. Another blow to the midsection and Forte began to cry out in pain. Kilbourne ignored it. He landed a blow to the right groin…then to the other one. The punches moved up to the face, one cheek and then the other. Kilbourne then used his powerful right hand to form a death grip around Forte’s neck. What little movement the Agent could muster was spent wiggling around in the chair.

  The Agent’s lips turned blue, but Kilbourne kept his grip until he felt a tap on the shoulder. He released the grip and Forte gasped for air. Paxton took to the front again. He stared down at the enemy, allowed him to catch his breath for a moment, while he fumbled around with something in his pocket.

  “You got something to say to me now, don’t you?” Paxton demanded.

  “…Fuck…you…” Forte managed to get out.

  “You want to play games, is that it?”

  “No…no, games, please…”

  “Okay, then, who is your next target?” Paxton demanded.

  Forte looked up and, with what little strength he had left, he spit in Paxton’s face. Paxton backed away and then used his shirt collar to wipe away the white and red mixture on his cheek. He shook his head and took a tight grip to the black handle inside of his pocket. He did not want to do this, but the bastard gave him little choice. Despite the insistence that Forte didn’t want to play games, that was exactly what was to happen. He held up the handle of the switch blade for his enemy to see.

  “You know,” Paxton said. “I’ve heard some interesting rumors about you. I’ve heard that you like to dig your victim’s fingernails out. Is that true?”

  Silence.

  “IS THAT TRUE?!” Paxton demanded once more.

  Silence again. Paxton pressed down on the handle and a shined blade shot up with a flicking sound. Forte’s jaw began to tremble as his interrogator waited for an answer…anything. Nothing came, so Paxton approached and took hold of the trembling index finger on the right hand.

  “Last chance, bub.” Paxton said.

  Forte spit in his face once more. The old veteran didn’t bother to wipe the saliva off this time. There were more pressing matters now, like getting answers. He looked back and signaled for Kilbourne to move behind. Kilbourne obeyed and held down the Agent by the shoulders. Paxton dug the sharp blade into the index finger, underneath the nail. He ignored the cries of pain and reached the end of the nail bed. With a sharp flick upward, the nail went flying into the air and landed next to Forte’s foot.

  Krys stood in the back of the room and couldn’t take it anymore. She buried her face into her palms while she walked to the door. Paxton looked back to see her walk out and that thing inside of him began to eat away at his soul. It kept telling him to stop it, but he ignored it like always. The struggle within himself began once again.

  He did not want to take pleasure in what he was about to do.

  ***

  Kaspar heard the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway. He threw the half smoked cigarette to the ground and looked towards it. It was Krys, her head low, with nobody else to accompany her. What was going on in there?

  She walked to the wall adjacent from him and leaned her back against it, head still straight down. No words came from her trembling lips. No sound except for her heavy breathing. She finally looked up and when she did, Kaspar could see tears roll down her cheeks. He walked over to her and stood beside.

  “What’s going on?” Kaspar wondered.

  “Nothing…” Krys replied. “Just John’s usual routine.”

  “What routine is that?”

  “He’s…questioning our mark right now.”

  Kaspar’s eyes lit up and anticipation filled his voice. “He’s torturing that man in there?”

  “Yep, he’s using the same methods that they use. I thought we were supposed t
o be above that…I guess I just don’t get it.”

  “If he’s not giving any answers…”

  “That shouldn’t matter! He’s a human being.”

  The tears continued to leak down her cheeks as Kaspar breathed in and turned his head away. He searched his mind for something to say, but since he didn’t disagree one tiny bit with what was going on in there, he remained silent. The USR…they took away Mother…they committed horrible acts against their own people. Why should it matter if the same brand of justice was brought back to them?

  “It’s necessary,” Kaspar said.

  “No evil is necessary,” Krys replied. She looked into Kaspar’s eyes. “You of all people should know that.”

  Kaspar looked away again, “If you were in that position, if you knew something the USR wanted, do you think they would spare you…that?”

  “No, they wouldn’t. And that’s why we are fighting them.”

  “Why stay, then? If you know this goes on?”

  “I don’t know…I want to make a difference, but not at the expense of my own humanity. I don’t want to be like them…like John.”

  Krys moved in on Kaspar and then buried her head in his chest. Kaspar, unsure of what to do, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and just stood there. He held her and began to run his left hand down her soft hair.

  Neither spoke.

  Thirty-Two

  Paxton finished with Forte’s left index finger. He made sure the nail stuck to the blade this time. He held the blade in front of the Agent’s eyes. Gone was the look of defiance and fear…all that remained was sheer terror. With a flick of the blade, the nail went airborne. The Agent followed it with his eyes.

  “Okay!” Forte cried out. “I’ll talk!”

  “Come out with it, then.” Paxton replied.

  “First, what kind of guarantees do I get…”

  The blade penetrated underneath the middle finger’s nail. Paxton didn’t take his time with this one. The blade was in and out within a matter of seconds. The unexpectedness of the motion caused Forte to cry out louder than the other two times.

  “The only guarantee you get from me,” Paxton said, holding the nail in front of Forte. “Is that I leave the rest of your fingernails intact.”

  Paxton used the Agent’s cheek to wipe the nail off this time. Forte looked around the room at a frantic pace, desperate in his search for an escape which wouldn’t come. Maybe, in his wormy brain, he thought that other Agents heard his screaming and were coming for him..

  “Ohhhkay…okay,” Forte panted, eyes still darting. “What do you want from me? What do you want me to say?”

  “Don’t play games with me,” Paxton replied. He held the blood stained blade up. “Or, shall I take another one?”

  “No, no…please…no more.”

  “You have a family, don’t you?”

  His eyes gave away the answer. Paxton took out a phone and started to press buttons on it. A new look of fear, with a hint of sadness, filled the Agent’s facial expressions. Paxton talked into the phone, he told his men to get into position.

  “You wouldn’t dare harm an Agent’s family.” Forte said, anger in his voice.

  “Does it look like I care?” Paxton replied. He put away the phone a returned his attention down at the blood stained blade in his hands. He looked back up to Forte. “You don’t seem to care about your own wellbeing, and that’s fine. If I was you, I wouldn’t care, either. But, think about your family, Travis. I didn’t want to do this, but we are running short on time.”

  “If you even think…”

  “You can save them, you know.”

  Forte looked straight to the ground. “What do you want?”

  “Let me be clear. If I even think that you’re lying, I will send my men into your home to kill your family. Clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Paxton slid the blade back into the handle and placed the knife back into his pocket. Games again, this Forte prick just wouldn’t listen to reason. He motioned with his head for Kilbourne to back away. Kilbourne did so and the Agent moved his stiff neck in circles and breathed in heavy.

  “You better start convincing me.” Paxton ordered.

  “Okay, okay, man. But, listen, I’m only in this shit because the pay is good…”

  “Spare me,” Paxton reached into his pocket. “Or should I continue?”

  “No!” Forte cried, the chair’s legs shook with violence. “No, not that!”

  “Then start talking!”

  “Our next target is Howard Anderson, some guy I interrogated…”

  “Tortured.” Paxton corrected.

  “Fine, tortured, you hypocrite. Like I was saying, we interrogated some guy who said that Mr. Anderson was a member of your resistance. We are going in to take him tonight.”

  “Where?”

  “At his apartment, man. Some little piece of shit for him, his wife, and six year old daughter.”

  “Six year old?” Paxton asked. A new type of rage burned in his soul at the mention of the little girl. “What’s the plan for her?”

  “Raise her in the schools, show her our way of thinking, you know.”

  “Just what we fucking need,” Kilbourne said from behind. “Another fascist.”

  “Look at yourselves, then judge me, okay?”

  Kilbourne grabbed at Forte’s shoulders, “What does that mean, little man?”

  “You people are just like us. Just like us, all right? You just hide behind those damned stars and stripes. You pretend that you are doing something noble for those people out there.” Forte spit on the ground. “You condemn me, that’s fine. But, you are doing the same exact thing that I would be doing to you.”

  “Now, you listen to me,” Paxton said, his face red with anger, his index finger aimed at Forte’s face. “I am nothing like you. You and your boys at the USR have pinned us into a corner. We’ve just taken the gloves off. We would never murder innocent women and children…”

  “What about your wars, leftover?” Forte asked.

  “Wars are different…a little collateral damage is unavoidable.” Paxton replied.

  “Collateral damage? Does it make you feel better…calling your victims that?”

  Paxton could feel his blood boil in his veins. He wanted to reply, but he bit his lip instead. He cursed himself under his breath for letting Forte get to him. The situation had gotten out of control and it was up to Paxton to reclaim it. No more games, he grew angry at himself for giving that piece of shit the time of day.

  “Enough! Where is the apartment?” Paxton demanded.

  “15…15…Baxter. Uhhhh…second floor, 218.”

  “When’s the raid?”

  “I don’t know the exact time…I just know it’s when the little prick gets off work.”

  “Where does he work?”

  “I don’t know.” Forte replied.

  Paxton retrieved the knife and press on the handle. The blade shot up in the air. Forte’s eyes widened at the sight of it. His body started to do that tremble thing again.

  “I don’t know where he works! We never know where these citizens work, it’s forbidden for us to know. We are only permitted to take these shit bags in from their homes.”

  Paxton put away the knife confused. He looked down at red his enemy’s eyes. “I believe you.”

  “Have I convinced you enough, then?”

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  “What about my family?”

  “I guess,” Paxton replied, “we’ll find out.”

  The old veteran stood and retrieved a Glock 26 from the small of his back. He chambered a round and then reached for the silencer in his jacket pocket. Forte’s eyes never left the gun. He tried to speak when he saw Paxton begin to twist it onto the muzzle.

  “What the hell is this about?” Forte demanded. “I told you what you wanted to know!”

  “Yes,” Paxton replied, “you did, and I thank you. I never said you’d
be getting out of this alive, though, did I?”

  “What’s killing me going to prove? Killing an Agent in cold blood…”

  “It won’t be the first time. But, let me ask you one last question.”

  “What else do you want from me?” Forte demanded.

  “That name…Jenna Kaspar, are you sure you don’t know it?”

  “No, I’ve never heard that name.”

  Paxton pulled the gun up and aimed it at Forte’s forehead. He used the curved “U” shape and the metal pointer at the end to aim: easy shot. The Agent would be dead before he felt any pain from the bullet entry. He breathed in, the look of a hardened killer in his eyes. What was one more body?

  “Wait! Wait!” Forte cried out.

  “Last words,” Paxton replied. “Make them count.”

  “Tell my wife and kids that I love them.”

  PSST!

  The silencer made the shot from the gun come out like a whisper. Forte’s lifeless head now hung back and to the left. Paxton looked at the mess he created as he twisted the silencer off. He motioned with his head for Kilbourne and Li to get out. He gave the lifeless body one last look before he joined them.

  “What happened?” Krys demanded, wiping away at her eyes at the sight of Kilbourne taking the lead.

  “It’s done.” Kilbourne replied before walking outside.

  Li said nothing and joined Kilbourne. Paxton refitted his Glock into its holster at his back and walked into the lobby. The look on Krys’s face caused a hint of guilt in his stomach. He tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to leave.

  “What happened to him?” Krys asked.

  “He’s expired. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “So, you just killed him?”

  Paxton scratched the back of his head, “Of course I did. He’s USR, the enemy. We’ve been over this.”

  “How are we supposed to…” Krys started.

  “Krys, we’ve been over this. If you want to talk about it, we can back at the safe house.”

  Krys turned and walked out without saying anything or even looking at Paxton. Kaspar looked deep into his boss’s eyes and did not like what he saw. A horrible thought filled his mind: is this what he would have to become to avenge Mother?