Harvey turned his attention back to the screen behind him. On the screen right now was a hacked, real time satellite image of the complex they were to raid in the coming days. It was located somewhere in the Deep South. The screen showed Agents on their patrols on the outside of it. The way they moved was almost identical to the patrolmen of the last complex and the one before that, too. It still amazed Harvey how the USR operated. Everything was the same, it seemed, and it became rare to see them switch tactics. It spoke to the arrogance of the military and government leaders, Harvey thought.
The complex itself sat it what looked like a bowl from the satellite images. There were hills all around it. The hills made for a perfect line of sight for Harvey, who had scout sniper training with the Marine Corps. He explained in the briefing earlier that he would provide sniper fire this go round, given the lay of the land there. Harvey would take down the guards outside, plus create confusion for those inside, which should buy the others some time to get in, get the job done, and then get out.
“Now, moving on.” Harvey said after he collected himself. “Buck, we are not sending you in there alone on this one. You’ll have Krys and Dex to give you back up. Just don’t panic in there. Take your time, breath, and act like there’s nothing around you. Focus on the task at hand, just like in practice, and you’ll do fine.”
“Yes, sir.” Buck replied.
Dex, as Harvey called him, looked over at Buck and gave him a wink. He was still getting over a gunshot wound from a previous mission. The bullet penetrated his upper body, where his body armor curved around his under arms. Dexter Byrd seemed eager enough when Harvey called out his name as going in on this one.
“Steinner, you’ll once again have Kaspar alongside you. We’re going in silent on this one. I’ll be providing sniper cover from the outside. We’ll be using silenced MP-5 submachine guns, too. This base, from what we can gather, isn’t as highly patrolled as the other ones, so no need for making any kind of racket if we can avoid it. We are still going to try and get whatever Intel we can from the inside, but like always, let’s not get our hopes up.”
That’s exactly what Kaspar was doing when he said it.
***
The briefing had ended just a few short moments before Kaspar was already hounding Clarke for information. The layout of the complex was laid bare on the large laptop screen. Clarke studied it hard for Harvey so he could report a complete analysis to him. Kaspar watched as he did his work from over the shoulder. He knew that it made Clarke nervous, but the computer wiz got over it quick enough.
“You find anything new about any type of cure?” Kaspar asked.
“No, they aren’t manufacturing it here, or I haven’t found anything out about that. How’s she doing?” Clarke replied.
“She’s fine, now, but these spells she’s having are getting worse every time. Those drugs we’ve got her doped up on aren’t going to do the trick forever.”
“I know. You’ll want to be careful here.”
Clarke pointed out the circular lobby area. It was wide, and there was very little in the way of cover. Kaspar nodded in acknowledgement as he saw what Clarke was talking about. It was a good place for an ambush. Clarke had almost gotten used to being Kaspar’s unofficial C.O. He knew that his friend didn’t pay complete attention in the briefings, so it became his job to point things out to him. The lobby would be nasty if there was any type of fire fight. It would give the Agents plenty of space to surround them. If that happened, the only thing the rebels could do was surrender, and hope that the USR would be taking prisoners. Actually, it would be better if they weren’t.
“I see,” Kaspar said as he noticed the predicament that they would be in. “You think Buck will do okay?”
“I don’t know. He seems like the type of kid that knows all the answers on a test, but then gets anxiety at test time and can’t remember anything.”
“That ever happen to you?”
“Of course not.” Clarke replied, with a cocky grin on his face. He continued to study the layouts. “This one could be dangerous.”
“Aren’t all of these little missions that way?”
“This looks different, though. I mean, there are too many wide open areas all around. You guys better be extra careful in there.”
“We always are. I’m just worried about Buck.”
“Don’t worry about him. You can’t control what he does. If he freezes up in there again, just get yourselves out.”
.07
Sullivan sat in the plain, red car with his new partner, Kevin Little. Little was young, didn’t look anything older than mid-twenties, and he still had his boyish looks about him. His dark hair was spiked up in the middle. The thick gel held together what looked to be a Mohawk. Sullivan sighed at the sight of it when they first met. He didn’t want to work with any more douchebags. The young detective was sharply dressed in a black suit, as well. Sullivan thought his new partner must have been a real hit with the ladies. Sullivan told the kid to dress casual, but Little replied with, “this is casual”.
Outside, the sun started it’s decent down the gray sky. With the sun beamed in on his eyes, Sullivan reached down for his sunglasses and slid them on. Little did the same beside him. The audio they were patched into was full of static at the moment. Their suspects were not gathered inside, yet. The two partners said nothing to each other while they waited. Even though Little didn’t say much, Sullivan already started to like him. In his mind, he took back the douchebag thoughts he had earlier. The rookie not only didn’t talk, but he didn’t disobey an order, either. Unlike his former cohorts, the veteran Agent thought that maybe this could turn into a great working relationship.
As they sat in silence, Sullivan’s mind turned to Davie. His son was left with Aunt Mary once again, the third night this week he had to spend away from him. Today was Wednesday. Davie was still doing excellent in school, bringing home nothing but straight A’s. Sometimes, Sullivan wondered how good Davie was actually doing. He heard stories of the class clowns that disrupted class, didn’t do their homework, and still managed to get passing grades. The teachers, not wanting to offend the children in class, couldn’t bring themselves to fail a kid when that was what he or she deserved. That fact alone made him question how great of a society they would live in when those kids got older. Hell, George Mason managed to get out of the school system with a passing grade.
“How long you been an Agent?” Sullivan asked, breaking the silence.
“Not long. Just got promoted to Detective class.” Little replied. He looked down at the brand new shield attached to his belt as if it were a trophy.
“You got any family?”
“Nah, just my parents who I take care of.”
“Any women in your life?” Sullivan asked. Julie’s face popped into his head.
“Nope. Nothing long term, anyway, just the occasional one nighter, you know?”
Sullivan raised his right eyebrow, “Be careful with that. You don’t want to get caught up in a legal mess with unwanted children. You know how seriously the government is taking that, right?”
“Yeah, I know, I’m careful. I’m thinking about going sterile anyway. I don’t want any Little bastards running around.”
Sullivan leaned back in his chair. “That’s good. This job makes it impossible to raise a kid right and to have a happy marriage.”
“You speaking from experience, Will?”
“Sure am.”
The two went silent again. Sullivan’s thoughts returned to the task at hand. As he did, he began to think back to the broadcast the resistance put out. For the one hundred and seventh time. Not a word from them since that day. Perhaps it was all a ruse by the USR in their propaganda techniques to make citizens fear the resistance as those who can’t be trusted. They set off a bomb in a USR controlled building after all. He kept hoping that Reed and his boys had something to do with whatever had been put in the water supply. The answers wouldn’t come by themselves and someo
ne on the inside obviously didn’t want him snooping around. There was only one problem and that was the man seated next to him.
Sullivan turned to Little. “What do you think they are doing?”
“Who, sir?”
“The guys we’re watching.”
“I don’t know. Don’t really care, either, to be honest.”
“Why wouldn’t you care? We might have to kill them.”
“If it comes to that, then so be it. They made their choice if they are doing something illegal.”
“No thoughts at all about it?”
Little started to tense up a bit before he spoke again. “Will, seriously, we’re not supposed to know. We’re not supposed to question our orders. The USR has reason to believe that they are resistance. So, we do what they say.”
“You don’t always have to do exactly what you’re told.”
Sullivan could sense some discomfort coming from his partner. That was good, he could use that fear against him later. Either he was a dedicated Agent, loyal to the death to his superiors, or he was a coward too chicken shit to do anything but.
Whatever the reason, Sullivan had to figure it out fast.
***
Reed began his exit from the USR facility he engaged his work in. As he walked down the sidewalk, he noticed a plain red car that he had never seen before. Definitely a USR surveillance vehicle, Reed guessed. He had been cut loose just two days ago and they were already tailing him. In his own mind he could have given them credit if they held their wad long enough to make him feel more at ease. But, the USR was all about control, so even him seeing the car could be their way of saying, “We’ve got you now.”
He turned the corner at the first crosswalk. There was an urge to look back over his shoulder to see if the car would follow, but he fought it. He didn’t want whoever was in the car to know he was unto them. It was far better right now to play it cool. He did, however, pick up his pace a little. It was subconscious. He didn’t even realize that he was walking faster than normal. The whole time he walked, he thought about how much the USR knew about his activities late at night. What he did after hours was obviously suspicious, but he and his crew were not stupid, either. They used code words for everything they discussed, so as not to draw suspicion from the numerous bugged devices that were planted all over the city.
Still, his going in to be questioned was expected, and they had planned on at least one member of the team to have to answer for what they did after work. Reed reasoned that he gave off some pretty good bullshit, but if there was ever a time to not be careless, it was now.
It only took a few minutes with his brisk pace to arrive at the old warehouse where he met with his buddies. He pulled out a key from his pocket, looked from side to side to ensure nobody saw him, and then unlocked the door. Inside, the large, empty room was already lit. The others had arrived before him. Reed was ordered to work an extra two hours on his shift. In no position to say otherwise, he accepted.
There was a sense of urgency like few times he felt before when they ordered him to do so. He hoped that the others realized the severity of discretion, which had already been instilled upon them. But, with him being gone for two hours, he didn’t know what kind of shit would come from his crew’s mouths, this being their first meeting after he was called in. Reed thought about not meeting for a few weeks, but that would only tip off the USR that they were doing something illegal. To just act natural was the best COA.
The only object inside the vast room was a long, wooden table with five chairs around it. The sixth, and last one, at the head, was empty. Reed moved quick to the table. The others stopped whatever small talk they were engaged in as their leader moved in. Reed nodded his head towards the crew before taking off his black jacket and hanging it against the back of his chair. Out of the pocket of his lime green pants, he pulled out a pack of playing cards.
Everyone in the room had their own codenames. The short, African American middle aged man to Reed’s right was Sugar. The skinny, young white male next him was Pinkie. Next to Pinkie sat Dopey, a slightly overweight Latino. On the other side at the far end was Pepper, another African-American male of about average height and build. In the middle was X, a bulky leftover and former member of a Latino street gang. X went straight just before the USR takeover. Finally, next to Reed on the left was Mr. Smith, a white male barely eighteen whose parents died of mysterious causes when he was young, therefore leading him to the USR camps. Reed’s codename was Bossman.
There was one other member of the team who was never spoken to by the others ever since they banded together. His codename was Statue, a hulking man who stood near six foot ten, and was almost too tall to work in the factory. They all had a strict no contact rule when it came to Statue. The only one who made contact with him was Reed. Those times were few and far between, as well.
“You bitches ready to get your asses kicked?” Reed asked aloud once he started to shuffle the cards.
The playing cards were X’s idea. Instead of a standard deck of fifty-two cards, it contained sixty-eight. Each card had a special coded meaning to it that only they knew. Everyone in the group was responsible, once they first started to meet, to learn the different meanings before they could proceed.
Each night that they met, they would play a mock game of Texas Hold’em, but with each hand, they were in actuality passing out coded messages. Even if the USR had installed cameras, they would have no way of knowing what was really going on. And, even if they did, they would have no way of knowing what messages were being sent. Each man took a code of silence before acceptance as a counter measure. If they were caught, they were to not give out the code under any circumstance. Reed knew all along that when torture was administered, one of them could and likely would break, but this was their only way of communicating with one another. It was a risk worth taking.
The whole operation got started after Reed started to talk with X. Reed was always curious as to how life was before the USR. At the height of the USR takeover, Reed was merely a boy, and he didn’t fully understand what was going on. All he knew was that there were more soldiers everywhere and that his parents were told what to do, where to work, and how much they were to be paid. They were forced out of their home and into a smaller apartment. A government official assumed control of all their assets leaving his family with nothing.
X talked about how great it was when there were freedoms. That he had his freedom taken away once when he was arrested for gang activity. The feeling of being locked up in a cage forced him to go straight once he got out. X used his street smarts and started his own small business dealing arms, only legitimately this time. That business, and everything he acquired through it, was of course taken away. The leftover then convinced Reed that, in their line of work, they could aid those who wished to bring the USR down.
Reed dealt out the cards. Once everyone had a two card hand, he carefully placed three cards in the middle. Bossman used a trick that X had taught him a while back. That trick allowed Reed to lay down in the center the hand that he wanted to be dealt. At the center of the table, a three card combination was flipped over.
Any problems shipment?
.08
The ride to the next complex in the eight wheeled assault vehicle was uncomfortable, per the usual. The rebels were forced to take to the back roads, and more often didn’t even use roads at all, to get from destination to destination to avoid detection. The terrain underneath the vehicle’s massive wheels jarred the ride up and down. Kaspar, seated on a bench across from Krys, tried to get comfortable, but finally gave up. It was just the two of them in the back. Harvey was driving with Buck in the front seat. The other vehicle, which carried their tents, medical supplies, and weapons was taking the lead in front. There would be no sleep on this ride, and not just because of the bumps, either. He was worried about Krys. Every time he attempted sleep, he would have some nightmare where he lost her somewhere.
As he looked at her, she kept
moving her eyes from left to right, then back at Kaspar. Even though they were together, Krys still felt a sense of unease when he would stare at her. It was nothing personal, she just didn’t like it. Kaspar felt it hard to not look at her, though. She was a beautiful woman, but his glances now were not of attraction, though it was still there, but of concern.
“Would you quit that?” Krys demanded.
“You feeling okay?” Kaspar wondered in response.
“I’m fine.”
“For now.”
Krys leaned forward, “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, those…look, your body has its limits. You could pass out in the middle of a firefight then what?”
“You can be a complete ass sometimes, Ryan.”
Krys folded her arms across her chest and leaned backwards to rest her back against the side of the vehicle. Kaspar did the same. They both moved their glances towards the back, staring at the brown earth the heavy tires dug into. Every time she was faced with her imminent death, Krys had also come down with a case of bi-polar disorder. Kaspar could never understand how his trying to make sure she was feeling okay could piss her off as bad as it did. This forced him to remember the only truth of her existence: these were her final moments, not his. It was up to her on how to spend them. If she wanted to spend them lying in some cot, waiting to die, or fighting for what she believed in, it was her choice.
“Hey,” Kaspar said, breaking the silence between the two.
“What?”
“It’s just, I’m sorry, okay? I’m just worried about you…these spells you go under…this whole Goddamn war. I just want to be with you. You want to run away somewhere?”
Krys grinned. “Turning chicken shit?”
Kaspar smiled back. “Maybe…we could go someplace nice. Use our stolen credits on a vacation.”
“We could go to the beach, live out the rest of our lives in style. I could see the ocean again.”
Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) Page 4
