So, as he stared down his first suspect in over a week, he tried to find some way to get information from him about the water supply problem. The man who sat in front of him, a thirty-four year old named Travis Reed, stared right back without a flinch. Reed, his file said, worked in the factories, what he did there was top secret. So top secret that Sullivan didn’t even know what they worked on in that factory. For a man who used to be always in the loop on everything, this bullshit had worn out its welcome a long time ago.
Sullivan’s suspect was still wearing that ugly lime green uniform that stung at the eyes. His hair was a dark red, his beard’s trim was neat, every line straight. The strain of working long, hard factory hours was written all over his face. His eyes looked tired and the skin underneath them at the sockets a darkish red.
“What have we got you in for today, Mr. Reed?” Sullivan wondered aloud even though he already knew the answer.
“I don’t know,” Reed replied. “You tell me.”
“It seems like you’ve been meddling around with the wrong crowd.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sullivan put down the man’s file. With interlocked fingers he placed his hands on top. He moved his hands up and down several times. The reason that Reed had been brought in to the station was that he, along with several of his fellow co-workers, were seen getting together after work in some old warehouse. Given the secrecy of their work it didn’t take long for the powers that be to deem their after work activities inappropriate. Reed appeared to be the ring leader of the whole thing which led to his employers bringing him to the station for a “routine question and answer session”.
“Tell me about your little meetings that you have with your co-workers.”
“What meetings?” Reed demanded.
“The ones where you all hideout in some abandoned warehouse. Don’t play dumb with me. We’ve got hard evidence to support that.”
“Is it a crime to have some drinks, non-alcoholic naturally, with some buddies from work?”
“It is when you all work in the same place. And that your job is so vital to USR efforts that I don’t even know what it is you do in that factory.”
Reed leaned in. “What does our work have to do with anything?”
“We just want to make sure that you guys aren’t plotting some kind of insurrection…or that you’re not aiding those terrorists out there.”
“Please…we know the laws, we know what happens to ‘citizens’ who try to rebel. You think I want to put my family through that?”
Sullivan grew annoyed when Reed used his fingers as quotation marks when he said “citizens”. He kept his composure, though. Time passed on and Sullivan found himself curious about the rebellion. Curiosity in the sense of his wondering who was right and who was wrong. The government that he served everyday hadn’t done a damn thing about his wife or the other women out there suffering. He would need these rebels. Maybe, just maybe, Reed and his pals worked on that substance that was going in the water. Or, even more hopeful, the inevitable cure.
The wheels inside of Sullivan’s head started to turn. His attention was now half on the questions he was asking and the bullshit answers he received in return. The other half was on figuring out a reason that he could let the man go. Not just anything, but something he could take to Fitzpatrick.
“You still with me?” Reed asked, trying not to laugh so as to offend the Agent.
Sullivan nodded his head. “Yeah, still here. Trying to figure out what to do with your sorry ass, as a matter of fact.”
“What’s the verdict?”
Sullivan pondered for a moment. “You’re free to go…for now. But, if you so much as take a shit wrong, we’ll know about it.”
Reed said nothing and stood straight up. Sullivan opened the door, allowed the suspect to walk out, and then followed behind. Sullivan gave Reed a waiver to sign and he was free to go. Fitzpatrick watched the entire encounter transpire and looked shocked at the outcome. He pulled his one-time top Agent into his office for a chat.
“What the hell was that?” Fitzpatrick demanded, reaching into his desk for a bottle of moonshine.
“What do you mean? I let him go.” Sullivan replied, not bothering to take a seat.
“I know that’s what you did, dumb shit. I want to know why you did it.”
“We need to get surveillance on his ass. We’ve got nothing on him. As far as we know, he really is just chilling with his buddies after a hard day’s work.”
“I don’t expect you to understand the severity of this situation, but I do expect you to use your best judgment.”
Sullivan leaned in over the desk. “Why don’t you enlighten me? Maybe if I knew what he and his pals did for a living, I could have used my best judgment.”
Fitzpatrick shook his head. “You know I can’t do that. It’s…”
“Let me guess, ‘confidential’, right?”
“That’s right. Only the highest level Agents know what they do. Maybe if you hadn’t gotten soft, you’d be one of us by now. What happened to the Sullivan I used to know? I never thought I’d rather have Mason and Wilcox more than you. At least they got results.”
“You know what?” Sullivan shot back, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Those two thugs didn’t know shit without me. Yeah, they got people to squeal, but I was the one who brought in the squealers. If it was all on them, we’d never know anything.”
Fitzpatrick shook his head. “We could go back and forth on this all day and night. I’m willing to trust you on this. Besides, that son of a bitch is lucky he works for the USR or else he’d be heading for a body bag right now. But, if this comes back to bite us in the ass, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
“I understand, sir. That’s why I’m volunteering to lead the surveillance of this prick.”
“Do what you have to. Good bye.”
Sullivan saluted his boss. Maybe now he could get some answers.
.05
Kaspar always enjoyed his morning runs with Krys. The feel of the still cool morning air brushed against his bare arms as they started to push it a little more. She kept with him stride for stride as they jogged. She was looking a lot better now than earlier in the morning. The lesion was covered up with a bandage and she didn’t look to be in too much pain. Kaspar couldn’t help but wonder to himself how much longer she could hold up. She was a strong woman, but even she had limits. Everyone did.
They turned the corner on the forest trail and pushed their legs even harder at Krys’s lead. Kaspar ignored the burning sensation in his legs as he was now keeping up with his partner. Krys had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore black sweats and a black sports bra. The lack of any other clothing showed off that rose tattoo that ran down the side of her rib cage almost down to her hip. The image, with the falling rose petals, took on added meaning over the past several months. He used to love the tattoo. It even drove him mad at times, but now with her worsening condition, he couldn’t stand the sight of it.
“You keeping up back there?” Krys asked. She turned her head and smiled. “Or are you too busy staring at my goods?”
“Both,” Kaspar replied. She could always read his mind.
Kaspar struggled for a moment to catch up to her. Once he did, he matched her stride, and the two lovers just ran in silence beside each other. Kaspar felt exhaustion run through is body. He ignored it as he knew they were close, maybe another mile, to complete their five mile run for the morning. The closer they got, the harder Krys seemed to push. Kaspar wanted to yell at her and order her to take it easier. The words never came out as he it was too hard to scold her for doing what she loved to do. He just wanted to pretend like there was nothing wrong.
The inner lie didn’t last long. Krys stopped dead in her tracks. Kaspar moved in beside her as she bent her upper body down. Without warning, a river of orange vomit flowed through her mouth. In all, she did five hard gags, each time with the same result. On the sixth gag
, there was nothing left to be evacuated. She dry heaved for a few seconds before she slammed her ass down on the tall grass.
“You okay?” Kaspar cried as he knelt down beside her. He started to rub at her back.
“Yeah,” Krys replied. She pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket. “I’m fine. Just…pushed too hard is all.”
Kaspar’s eyes moved up and down as he studied her. “You don’t look fine.”
Krys frowned. “I said I was fine. Just give me a few minutes, okay?”
Kaspar nodded in acknowledgment. He stood straight up from his knelt position and just stared off into the woods. Things were getting bad for her. There was no worse feeling in the world to Kaspar right now than the feeling of inadequacy. He wished now, at this moment, that he had the smarts and the know how to fix what was eating away inside his lover. He promised to protect her, and it was starting to look like he made another promise he couldn’t keep.
For her part, Krys just stood over the grass and tried to catch her breath. Her lips trembled and her breath was short. Kaspar reached down and began to rub at her back again. She let out a slight wince when he rubbed at the sports bra over her back. Through the back of the cloth, he could see the spot looked wet, and the bra stuck on that spot a little bit. When he lifted the black cloth, it revealed another lesion, just like the one on her neck.
“We should go back and rest, now.” Kaspar said. “I’ll help you back to camp.”
“Okay,” Krys replied, finally giving up.
She stood and put her arm around Kaspar’s neck as he led them back. The walk was slow and, at times, Kaspar felt like he was dragging her. Her breathing consisted of short wheezes here and there. At one point, Kaspar thought that she passed out on him. The hike back to the camp soon became one of the lowest moments of his entire life. He knew the score back when the two of them escaped together. There was always a glimmer of hope that she would be okay, though. That hope was just another cruel way for Kaspar to lie to himself. He wanted to enjoy every moment that he had left with her. Mother was already taken for granted and Kaspar didn’t want to make the same mistake with Krys. The past few months flew by so quick they felt like just a few days. She was nearing the end and he was not ready to see her go.
No, she’s not going to die. Not on my watch.
***
Kaspar moved through the large chow tent at a frantic pace. He ignored the others who were passing off jokes while playing a few hands of Texas Hold ‘Em. They looked up from the game at him while he hustled and ignored their gazes. He poured water from the large tank into a camouflaged canteen and two military rations for food. Harvey noticed his team member’s desperation and got up from his seat to help him. The steam from his hot cup of coffee brushed against his face as he moved. He took a slow sip and placed it down by his foot on the grass.
“What’s up?” Harvey asked.
Kaspar kept his focus on gathering supplies. “Krys just had another episode.”
“They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You need any help?” Harvey wondered. He could tell from Kaspar’s pace that the episode she just experienced was worse. He decided not to press it.
“Yeah, if you could grab some meds, that would be great.”
Harvey nodded his head, bent down for his coffee, then walked over to the tent next door that had various stolen medical supplies. Kaspar placed the rations against his belt, and then grabbed an orange, placing it in the back pocket of his sweatpants. He turned to see Harvey bring in a small red bag. Harvey handed it over.
“You guys rest up, we might have a beat on another one.”
“I’ll take care of her. We’ll be ready.” Kaspar replied.
“Just make sure she’s comfortable.” Harvey said.
Kaspar slid the bag over his shoulders. “I will. We’re going to find that cure.”
“I know.” Harvey replied, his response monotone, not giving away his true feelings about the likelihood of that scenario.
Kaspar could sense his disbelief with the emotionless response, but didn’t want to say anything to cause a ruckus. That was one thing that Krys had taught him. She instilled in him a new attitude of letting things go. There was something odd about Krys. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but not even Mother could make Kaspar want to be a better man. When he was with Krys, however, he wanted to be the best person on the face of the planet for her. The first time that he started to feel this phenomena was an experience that overwhelmed him.
With his upper body bent down, Kaspar entered the small tent. She was lying there on the bed, a white bucket beside her down on the grass. Kaspar walked over to her and handed her a ration. She propped her head up using her pillow and began to slowly eat the plain tasting bar. While she ate, Kaspar got together the various medications that Harvey gave to him.
“Thank you, Ryan.” Krys said in between mouthfuls.
“Don’t mention it,” Kaspar replied.
When she was finished with her breakfast, Krys placed the aluminum foil next to the bucket. Kaspar then passed over the medications that she was doped up on all the time. Pain killers, stomach medicine, and some concoction that Harvey came up with that gave Krys a shot of adrenaline. This wasn’t going to last long and their morning run was further proof.
“Krys,” Kaspar said as she took the first of her medications. “We’ve got to be more careful. We can’t push it too hard anymore.”
“What do you mean ‘we’?” Krys demanded.
“You know what I meant. I’m your partner, I’m a part of your life, too. You’ve got to take it easy.”
Krys swallowed another pill, the taste so bitter she had to pucker her lips. Once she was done, she replied, “How can you say that to me? Women are out there dying, just like me, but I have the power to help them. I told you six months ago, no matter how bad I got, I would continue to fight. There is no letting up.”
“I don’t want you to quit fighting. It’s just, everything is happening so fast, I…don’t want to lose you.”
“Me quitting, or taking it easy, isn’t going to cure me. Yeah, it might make me more comfortable, or extend my life a little bit, but I’m still…”
Kaspar put an index finger over his lips and nodded. He didn’t want her to finish that sentence. It was all just too hard to take in. She was right, after all, but he didn’t want to see her suffer. If this was the end, she deserved some rest after all that they had been through together. It was ultimately her decision on what she would do with the rest of her life. Her life was hers and it wouldn’t be fair for Kaspar to start dictating it. They were fighting against that type of tyranny. He did promise her that he would stick by her until the end. He also made a promise that either they would find the cure or that he wouldn’t get in her way when she got worse. More promises he couldn’t keep.
“I know, baby. Look, I know you don’t want to live with false hope, but I will save you.”
Krys smiled. “You already have.”
Kaspar allowed a smile, too. He moved in and gave her a slight peck on the cheek. When he pulled back, he felt a hand on his arm. Krys began to shake her head. Kaspar’s grin grew wider. She was so beautiful when she did things like that. At that moment, he also had to fight back a tear. Krys placed her hand on the back of Kaspar’s head and pulled him in.
“I love you,” she said.
.06
The squad was all gathered together in the central tent which served as their briefing room. An eager, determined Buck sat in the very front. He was so poised and every word his father said during the briefing was taken with the utmost urgency. The pen in his hand formed words on the pad of paper in front of him at a lightning pace. There would be no more screw ups. He would make sure of that. Steinner sat next to him, a bit more relaxed, but still listening with intent. Dexter Byrd, the man who drove the armored truck during the mission days earlier, sat in the second row, next to Kaspar, who in tur
n sat very close to Krys. Byrd was an African-American man of medium height and build. Not big enough to scare you at first but more than big enough to finish you off. He wore a military green tank which showed off his “Don’t Tread On Me” tattoo inked on his right bicep.
Kaspar’s right hand was firmly placed inside of Krys’s strong grip. The medications she took earlier seemed to perk her up a bit. She was no longer as lethargic as before. Her stomach pains went away, too. Kaspar tried to focus his attention on the briefing, but his mind kept wandering to the health status of her. These briefings all seemed to be the same, with a few variations here and there depending on the layout of each location. All he needed was a gun and then he would figure out the rest as it came up. The enemy didn’t care how prepared they would be, so Kaspar became very good at improvising. He just hoped that, this time, the kid up front would calm the hell down and do his job.
“You still with me, Kaspar?” Harvey demanded.
Kaspar nodded his head. Harvey took a few deep breaths before he continued with the brief. If there was one thing the old man couldn’t stand it was a soldier not paying attention to what he was saying. There he was, spending his precious time explaining what to do so they wouldn’t get killed out there, and it was apparent that Kaspar didn’t give a shit. That was one thing that he and Kaspar went back and forth on. Harvey knew that Kaspar did, in fact, care. It was just that he did a piss poor job of showing it.
Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) Page 3
