Patriots & Tyrants
By
Brian Cotton
© 2013 by Brian Cotton
Cover Art © 2013 by Greg Dejaynes
[email protected]
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing by the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Books by Brian Cotton:
Rebels & Lies
Patriots & Tyrants
For Randy,
Keep up the good fight, brother
Contents
.01
.02
.03
.04
.05
.06
.07
.08
.09
.10
.11
.12
.13
.14
.15
.16
.18
.19
.20
.21
.22
.23
.24
.25
.26
.27
.28
.29
.30
.31
.32
.33
.34
.35
.36
.37
.38
.39
.40
.41
.42
.43
.44
.45
.46
.47
.48
.49
.50
.51
.52
.53
.54
.55
.56
.57
.58
.59
.60
.61
.62
.63
.64
.65
.66
.67
.EPILOGUE
.Acknowledgments
.About the Author
“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time by the blood of patriots and tyrants…”
-Thomas Jefferson
.01
Her bike wouldn’t start. What a hell of a place for the once great piece of machinery to just die. She slammed her black booted right foot down on the kick starter again and all she got for her effort was the same sound of the engine trying to come back to life. Any minute—no second—now and the Agents would file out of the government complex, ready for the kill. She moved her black helmet covered head to get a look behind her. Sure enough, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Agents running through the automatic sliding doors, guns drawn. She tried one last desperate attempt to get the bike to start. Finally, after she heard the sound of automatic gunfire, the bike decided it was okay to leave. She pulled back on the throttle and the bike rocketed forward. As the bullets whizzed all around her, she said a silent prayer that none of them would hit her.
She still had too many things to do before her eventual death.
***
“What do you mean there’s a problem?” Kaspar demanded after he took out another Agent with a three round burst to the chest.
“The explosives…” a young voice said into Kaspar’s ear. “The timer isn’t starting.”
Kaspar moved back down behind the cover of a metal desk. The sound of bullets flying all around no longer scared him. He had been around this type of work for far too long now. The only thing that frightened Kaspar, at this point, were neophyte kids who couldn’t do under pressure what they could do in a silent room. All this planning, plotting out every move and action, and the twenty year old kid called Buck was tanking under the pressure.
The rebel moved up from cover again and fired away another short burst, taking out another one. Just one more left. His partner beside him, Jeremy Steinner, ended the gun battle with a perfect head shot. Kaspar stood up fully. He still had his PSD shouldered, the barrel pointed in front of him. Through the sight of the weapon, he saw the dim lit laboratory, their objective was inside. He checked behind each metal desk as they slowly moved forward. Steinner kept his attention on both doors, sweeping from front to back while they moved.
“Buck,” Kaspar said, as calmly as he could when all he really wanted to do was throw every profanity in the English language at the kid. “Take your time. Breathe. Are there any Agents close by?”
Static and a brief moment of silence. “No, I think your girlfriend did a good job creating a diversion.”
“Was she hit or anything when you last saw her?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay, focus on that bomb. We’ve got ours.”
The white door in front of them opened automatically upon approach. There was only the laboratory inside, no Agents, just the computers and devices meant to destroy women’s fertility. In the very back corner they saw the box where the “new drug” was being made. Clarke had come across Intel that the USR had made a new kind of drug that stopped women from getting pregnant. Only this one had gotten, what that bastard Danny had called, “all the little bugs” worked out. There were now no deadly side effects. But, like Krys always told him, it still wasn’t right what they were trying to do.
Steinner moved in quick. He got down on one knee and started to pull wires and explosives out of his bag. Kaspar moved to one of the computers and stuck a flash drive into one of the ports. His focus then moved towards the door in front of the lab. He kept a close eye, and a trained gun, on it. He was ready for anyone to come through and, as soon as an Agent did, that enemy would be dropped like so many others.
He heard Steinner move around the explosives behind him. He took a peek backward through his tinted lenses to see his partner was nearly done. Steinner placed the plastic explosives against the black boxes where the drug was being manufactured. He was about to set the timer when Kaspar heard something in his ear.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Buck said in between quick gasps. “My mind is going blank.”
“Now, you listen to me,” Kaspar said, eyes trained on the door again. “You’re only function in life right now is to set those charges, you get me? You’ve done this a hundred times before. This time it’s for real. Do what you do or we’ll leave you here.”
A short pause, “Okay, I’ve got this.”
He’s also got an ass whooping his way when we get back to camp, Kaspar thought. He heard Steinner behind him get up and move to his side. Kaspar reached towards the flash drive in the port and yanked it out. He placed it into a pocket in his flak jacket; right next to the yellow fabric which had slowly begun to tear apart and fade away.
“Charges set, we’re ready to go.” Steinner said.
“Good work. We’ve got to move to Buck’s position right now.”
The two started to move forward with a quick, steady pace. Their guns were shouldered as they moved. Steinner said, “That damn kid is gonna get us killed.”
“It was your job to train him.”
“He’s done fine in training.”
“Which means,” Kaspar said as they swept from left to right once out of the hallway. “You didn’t do your job in preparing the kid for the real thing.”
The two quit talking as they approached the lobby. They moved do
wn to a low crouch and continued their forward momentum to Buck. Kaspar moved his eyes over to the front windows. He saw Agents fire away with their automatics at something or someone. It had to have been Krys. The fact that they were still firing meant that she wasn’t dead, yet. He couldn’t worry about her right now, though. She could take care of herself.
They moved down the narrow hallway and took the first left. Inside the lab, they saw Buck fiddling around with his explosives. Though the mask over his face covered up his emotions, Kaspar knew what the kid was feeling. That feeling of overwhelming hopelessness that he felt the first time he pointed a gun at a paper target. But, Buck knew the stakes and he guaranteed the others that he could do the job when it mattered. So far, he was failing.
“Steinner,” Kaspar whispered. “Go help him out, I’ll cover the door.”
“Roger.”
Steinner moved in quick and startled Buck when he touched him on the back. Not a good thing when the person he scared was nervously putting together explosives. Kaspar kept a watchful eye on the door. He couldn’t help but to think of Krys, even though at this point in the mission, his focus needed to be that door. She was good on the bike, he knew, but the sheer amount of Agents firing automatics in her direction put her odds of survival at critical levels. He just hoped she was long gone by now.
“What’s the problem, buddy?” Steinner asked as he took out some tools from his flak jacket.
“My mind’s all scrambled. I just know that I’m going to screw this up or that Agents are going to storm through here and take me out.”
“Calm down. Me and Kas took out the ones that were left. Coast was clear when we moved in.”
“I know, but shit, this is nerve wracking.”
“Let me help you out.”
Kaspar turned his attention to them. “You two better…”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kaspar saw a squad of Agents move in. His turn was quick and precise. His aim was true as he took out the first Agent. He turned his gun to another who tried to move in and delivered him the same fate. Kaspar then began to back pedal towards the metal desks. He took cover behind one of them and started to fire away at the door.
“You go help Kas, I’ll finish this!” Steinner yelled. “Let’s hope you remember how to shoot.”
“Yes..sir.” Buck replied.
Buck aimed his gun and fired at the door. Any moment now and the squad of Agents would converge on them. Kaspar heard Steinner’s order. He really was going to kick Buck’s ass in this life or the next. Kaspar aimed his weapon and fired at the Agents who moved into the room. The diversion had run its course and they should have been long gone by now. He took two of them out and saw that Buck took out a third, though less precise than Kaspar. He injured the Agent enough to take him out of the fight. Kaspar moved back down and fought back the terrible thoughts of Krys’s fate.
In the back of the office, Steinner worked a feverous pace. He was careful to not be in such a hurry that he screwed something up with the configuration of the bomb. Gunfire now filled the room. The Agents began to move in faster than the two rebels could handle. Steinner needed to get back in the game. He finished putting together the explosive then started the timer. He set it for ten minutes then put together a little boobie trap for any poor son of a bitch that tried to dismantle it.
Steinner dropped his tools then raised his PSD and fired away from a crouched position. He took out an Agent then moved forward with his body low. He found an empty desk to take cover behind.
The scene that began to unfold was way too similar to the last time Kaspar fought with his old partners. He wanted to make sure that Steinner and Buck got out of this alive. There was a determination inside that helped him to aim his weapon and take out as many enemies as possible. He summoned that scrappiness that made him such a great fighter in the ring and had turned him into a pretty damn good soldier. When his mag was dry, Kaspar dropped back behind the desk to reload.
More Agents from the outside started to pour in. There was no way the three of them would survive this alone. Kaspar rose up and before he could aim, he caught an Agent who fired at his position. The rounds clanked all around the metal surface which provided a shield for the ex-prize fighter.
As the Agents began to move in, there was a loud spitting of gunfire coming from the left side of the hallway. The Agents inside turned their attention to it. Buck was able to pick one off just as he turned.
“Now!” Kaspar yelled.
Steinner and Buck joined Kaspar in moving from cover to take out the enemies in the room. The Agents had been flanked from their backside which gave the rebels the edge. Moments later, all the Agents were taken down. A figure standing around five foot six walked into the room, sweeping a P90 around. A much taller figure, who wielded an M16 assault rifle moved in, as well.
“Figured you fellas could use some help.” a familiar female voice said.
“Krys,” Kaspar said, feeling a sense of relief.
“Saving your ass never gets old.” Krys replied.
“We need to move out!” the deep voiced, taller figure cried.
The rebels moved out of the room, maneuvering their way through the scattered USR corpses on the crimson stained tile floor. Through the lobby windows, Kaspar could see a stolen USR mounted vehicle which had an American flag painted over the USR insignia. The rebels moved forward and filed themselves into the vehicle through the back. The driver went into reverse, turned the delivery vehicle around, and then floored it.
Just as the large vehicle struggled to gain forward momentum, the explosions from inside the complex could be heard and felt. The force of the blast caused the back of the vehicle to shake. Kaspar tore off his mask at the same time as Buck. Kaspar stood and moved in with a fury. Buck’s eyes went wide as he tried to move backward. The kid had bronzed skin and jet black hair. Though he was barely twenty, his physique was one of a body builder in training. Buck could handle himself in a fight with Kaspar, but he just lacked the courage to do so.
“I outta kick your ass you dumb mother…” Kaspar started to say.
He felt a hand grab at his shoulder. Kaspar didn’t turn to see who it was, but he stopped. With the tension of the mission still flowing through his veins, and an angry comrade about to kick his ass, Buck went on the verge of tears. Kaspar knew how Buck must have felt about freezing on the mission, but that was all moot to him. The kid nearly got the entire team killed with his sudden forgetfulness. Kaspar finally turned to see who had stopped him. It was Krys.
“Ryan,” she said with a look of concern in her eyes. “Let it go. We made it out, that’s all that matters now.”
“Yeah,” Kaspar said. He moved past her and took a seat at the far end.
“We’ll talk about this later,” the tall figure from before said in Buck’s direction. The figure turned to Kaspar as he took off his mask. Sam Harvey’s bronzed skin gave away his Native American ancestry. Despite approaching his mid-sixties, the man had not shade of gray in his jet black hair. His face had a scar underneath his left eye, but there were no signs of age there, either. “Kaspar, these kinds of things happen in war. Just remember that you were once a greenhorn.”
“I know, sir, but…”
“No buts. You need to learn to control that anger and empathize with your squad mates. Taking out your anger on him solves nothing.”
“Yes, sir.” Kaspar replied. He crossed his arms over his chest as Krys moved in to console him.
“Buck,” the tall figure said.
“Yes, Father.”
“We’ll talk about this back at camp.”
.02
Christopher Caine looked down from the top floor of the sky scrapper that he called home. The rising morning sun beamed through the dark tinted windows. He stood in his expensive, Italian made, custom tailored black suit and smiled. Caine was the unquestioned leader of the USR. He looked down at the citizens that were under his control. They looked so tiny from all the way up here, which was fitt
ing, because that was how Caine viewed those down below. They were too small, and too small brained, to be at his level. Watching them scurry about with their insignificant lives brought great joy to the seventy year old.
The feeling that his mental capacity was superior to everyone else around him was unavoidable. He often thought about his great scheme which kept his identity a top secret. All those citizens, and his various puppets in the political spectrum, had no idea who the true ruler was. The only ones who did were few and far between. The majority of those that did were about to join him for a necessary meeting. It still puzzled Caine that he even had to call these things “necessary”. When would his puppets learn that he had everything under control?
All of this frustration was alleviated by one simple truth: he loved living in the top secret USR Headquarters. There was nothing better than being in control. Control over politics that he had in the old days weren’t enough. He needed absolute control where he was the supreme ruler, dictator, fascist, whatever you wanted to call him.
On top of that he also had his private penthouse on this top floor. Everything he ever needed was provided to him. Food, wealth, sex…not a day went by that he didn’t get to enjoy the best things that life had to offer. In fact, he knew that those weren’t really luxuries at all but what he deserved. Never satisfied, there was always more than he could take. People often say that they lived life with no regrets. When Caine said it, he meant it, with all his fiber. The only sadness that he felt was that he wouldn’t be around that much longer to further indulge in his perfect life. For a god amongst men, the only thing that would defeat him was time. Caine’s health and shape were in tip top condition. As was his mind. It was unfortunate that with all the advancements in medical technology that death was still to be met by everyone.
Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) Page 1
