Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2)

by Cotton, Brian

  The only problem, and it was a doozy to Statue, was that split second when he unplugged the GPS and then plugged the device into it. This maneuver would be caught if the person who kept track of his truck watched with any kind of intent. Statue prayed that they weren’t. He considered another cigarette before doing the switch, but thought better of it. It was now or never…

  His hands were quick. The plugs were switched in less than a second. That was what was impressed upon him when given the job. There was a feeling of accomplishment inside and he quietly applauded himself. Statue also hadn’t breathed in several seconds so he finally exhaled. He stared down at his phone, waiting for the dreaded call from dispatch demanding what had happened to his GPS. The call never came. He exhaled again and pulled out his other phone. With his now calm fingers, he typed in the numbers and waited. The other line rang twice before an answer.

  “This is Statue, Operation Blackbird is a go.”

  ***

  All of the men in the tent, which had been built as their command center, were leftovers with extensive military experience. It brought Harvey a great sense of pride to see so many former Americans, even if he saw them all as Americans still, coming together for a cause. This was the first time since the USR takeover that he had witnessed such a thing. There were still doubts within himself about the mission, but for now, he would relish in the fact that so many had joined together. For this moment, at least, they could all feel like things were back to normal.

  Sanders stood in front of them all. No doubts were going through his mind, in fact, seeing all the men gathered together brought with it even more confidence. He was going over the layout of the building with the men, focusing on its weak points, where to strategically place men, etc. Out of pure respect, the men in the room gave him their full, undivided attention while he went over it. Once he got to the end, he had to ask the obligatory question of if anyone had any. There surely would be questions to come his way.

  In private, Harvey was approached by several leftovers who all gave their opinions about the mission. Many of them still had their doubts. Some thought it was still too big of a risk. But, the general consensus was that it was worse to not act than not to. For Harvey’s part, the more he tried to think like Sanders, the less confident he became. He reminded himself that this was war, and to win a war, you had to take risks. But, this was one big risk that could cost them the entire war. Even a victory, depending on the casualty rate, could be seen as a defeat. How much of this was just about an old war veteran trying to prove something before he bit the dust?

  The strategy itself was pretty sound, by Harvey’s estimation. What Sanders proposed was for the majority of the units to draw the USR’s fire, while a select few would sneak into the building, take it by force, and then raise the American flag atop the roof. That, according to Sanders, would get the message across loud and clear. Not just to the USR’s leaders, but also to the resistance units all across the country.

  “Any questions?” Sanders asked once finished.

  “Look,” a rebel leader said. “We’re with you about this, but are you sure that this isn’t a waste of our assets?”

  “How could this be a waste?” Sanders demanded right back. “The government tried to use us to further their ends. They didn’t realize that once we found out, we would kick some ass. Like everything else, they just assumed that they could keep us under control. With this victory, and it will be a victory, they will know that we are not to be fucked with.”

  “That all sounds good, but is there any more strategic value to this other than flipping the bird to them?”

  “Of course. It will show the people that there is hope…”

  Harvey cleared his throat and then didn’t bother raising his hand. “Begging your pardon, but the people, at least the majority, want us gone. They’ve been brainwashed for too long by the USR. To them, the USR are the good guys, and we are the bad guys.”

  Sanders chuckled. “Point well taken. There’s a government that only wants to control everyone, everything, and just because people don’t realize it that we just let it go on. I don’t stand for that.”

  “Nobody does, but…”

  “No buts, Harv. All I know is that there is good and there is evil. No matter what public opinion says, it doesn’t change that we are in the right and they are in the wrong.”

  Harvey simply nodded his head. There wasn’t much of an argument that he could muster to dispute what Sanders just said. The old scarred war veteran was right, after all. Every leftover in the room wouldn’t be here if they didn’t agree to that. But, still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Sanders was becoming more and more of a tyrant. If the war would eventually be won by the resistance, which revolved around the public opinion that Sanders talked about, Harvey hoped that Sanders wouldn’t play a large role in the politics. He had a feeling that Sanders wouldn’t want it anyway. The old man was a war dog, and that’s all he would ever wanted for himself.

  “What if this fails?” another leftover asked.

  “If this fails? Well,” Sanders rubbed at the scar on his forehead. “If this fails then things will continue to remain the way they are. We all die, the USR continues to reign over the innocent, and it will be like we never fought for them at all. But, what if we succeed? What if this shakes people out of apathy and gets them thinking? We can play what if games all night long, but the only question I have in response is: Why not try?”

  “Things will get worse out there.”

  “Sure they will. Do you think that before the first Revolutionary War that the patriots in that war didn’t fear the repercussions of standing up to their adversaries? Look at all the great revolutions in history. Hard times always come when you stand up to evil. I can tell you this, if we don’t act now, the USR will eventually catch up to us, and then who will fight?”

  With that response, Sanders could tell that the other leaders were starting to buy in. The questions that came his way now were in the way of preparation. Harvey had to give it to Sanders. As much as he disagreed with him personally, Harvey’s respect for Sanders was growing, as well. His never say die attitude was starting to grow on him. Sanders might turn out to be a tyrant, but maybe that was exactly what the resistance needed. Someone who could lead and inspire everyone to stand up to the USR and said fuck you to the consequences. Harvey still had his doubts about the mission, but Sanders was right, if they failed, nothing would change anyway.

  “Any more questions?” Sanders wondered.

  There were none. Only a new found resolve remained.

  .50

  The drive to the once abandoned power plant seemed like an eternity. Statue kept looking over at his phone, waiting for a call, but none ever came. The last contact he had with dispatch was when he told them that he fixed the problem and was continuing on route. Dispatch didn’t mention anything about his GPS and simply told him to hurry it up. Now that he was at his real destination, he was calm once more. At least now he had more guns to back him up if it came to that. Throughout his entire trip here, he was not followed, or at least there were no signs of it.

  Members of the resistance were quick in the unloading of the contents of the eighteen wheeler. He offered to help, but they just told him that he had done enough. He didn’t press them about it. After the longest drive of his life he could use some rest. He turned away from the others and walked to the inside of the plant. Sitting on a chair by the entrance was a familiar face. One that he never thought would bring him so much happiness.

  “X!” Statue cried. “You made it.”

  X moved his head up and stood from the chair. “Statue, you old shit, what took you so long?”

  The two men exchanged handshakes and then X walked him over to the coffee pot. The strong aroma of the coffee was like music to his ears. They walked past the other rebels who were talking amongst themselves. Besides the strong aroma of coffee there was a musty smell to the old piece of shit abandoned place. The ugly, greenish
gray concrete floor was stained with mold and other brownish colors from years of non-maintenance. This used to be the lobby and the lobby desk had rot all around it. Broken glass from the windows of what used to be the main offices littered the ground. Once at the pot, Statue grabbed one of the Styrofoam cups and poured the hot liquid into it. He took a sip then walked with X back to the chairs.

  “Any problems on your way in?” X wondered.

  “Not a one,” Statue replied. “Only problem being my nerves. Took me forever to find the guts to switch out the plugs. After that, smooth sailing.”

  “Good, good. Glad to hear it.”

  “Where are the others?”

  X’s facial expressions changed. He was happy to see that his friend had made it to the plant, but there were so many others that didn’t make it. A frown now filled his face. X had been hardened so long that he didn’t think that he could feel any emotions after all he’d seen and done. But, at this moment, he felt like he could cry.

  “Something happened while you were away.” X said.

  Statue could tell that it was something bad. “What happened?”

  “There were raids on each of us. The government must’ve grown tired of the surveillance game. They came after us hard.”

  “Who didn’t make it?”

  X rattled off the names and hesitated with the last. By the look on Statue’s face, X reasoned that he knew who the last person was, so he didn’t say it. Statue nodded his head then sipped at his coffee. Out of the corner of his right eye, he saw Sullivan approach the old chairs. He quickly moved the cup from his lips and almost spilled coffee on his hand.

  “The hell’s he doing here?” Statue demanded. He recognized Sullivan from the mug shot that Reed provided to him.

  “The pig?” X asked. “Says the USR took his son. He also tipped us off to the raids.”

  “I thought we couldn’t trust him. And, now, you bring him here?”

  “It was my call.” X said with a stern tone. “He seemed legit enough. I pointed a gun to his head and I got the feeling that he wanted me to pull the trigger.”

  “And, that makes him trustworthy?”

  “I don’t know,” X admitted. “But, if it wasn’t for him, none of us would have made it out alive.”

  “Maybe it’s because he wanted to see where we hide out. To see what we were really up to.” Statue said.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But, he is on a tight leash. He knows that one wrong move and I’ll blow his head off.”

  Sullivan approached the two men. He didn’t like the stares that Statue was giving him, but Sullivan couldn’t blame him for it. The former Agent wasn’t armed, and he knew that the tall man would be packing, so it was best to just play it cool for now. X absolutely forbade him from carrying a weapon for the moment. Sullivan just wondered how long it would take for them to trust him, if ever.

  “Can I take a seat with you gentlemen?” Sullivan asked.

  “Knock yourself out.” Statue replied.

  Sullivan took a seat. “You make it in with your shipment okay?”

  “Sure did.”

  With that, the tall man stood from his chair then walked outside. That left just Sullivan and X, who were silent for a moment, as silent was they were on the drive up here. Sullivan got up and poured himself some coffee, adding cream and a little bit of sugar. When he returned, he sat closer to X, who seemed surprised by it. The former Agent took a sip from the cup and was taken aback by the strong taste. He moved back over to the table and added more sugar in an attempt to sweeten up the bitter taste. X laughed. Once Sullivan returned back, he placed the cup on the floor by his right foot, content with never taking another swig of that shit ever again.

  “What’s this big operation everyone is gearing up for?” Sullivan demanded. Being left in the dark had gotten old long ago.

  “Why do you care?” X demanded right back.

  “I care because if I’m going to fight with you guys, I want to know what I’m getting myself into.”

  “Just know that it’s big.”

  “How big?”

  “You’re not going to quit, are you?”

  “Bet your ass.” Sullivan replied with a grin.

  X moved in closer. “Well, I guess since you’ve seen all that you have so far, it won’t hurt to tell you. You’re still on a short leash, though, Puerco.”

  “Fine.”

  “We’re going after the Capitol.”

  “You’re shitting me…”

  Sullivan’s eyes grew wide at the mention of those words. The Capitol? This resistance really was nuts, or desperate, or a mixture of both. They seemed to fight a guerilla war just months ago and now they were plotting this? The odds were impossible. He looked around to see that there weren’t nearly enough men around to accomplish such a mission.

  “Impossible,” Sullivan said. “You don’t have the manpower to do it.”

  “We’ve got more men on the way.” X replied.

  “You’ve got some kind of small army?”

  “You could say that. All the rebel squads this side of the country are getting together, or so we’ve heard. They should start arriving here any minute, now.”

  “What’s the endgame here?”

  “I don’t know. All I do know is that I’m anxious to get some killing in. It’s been too long.”

  “An old killer, eh?” Sullivan asked with a smirk.

  X’s expression never changed. “Damn straight. I’ve been waiting a long time for this day.”

  “I guess I can’t blame you.”

  “What about you? I thought all you cared about was your son.”

  Sullivan swallowed hard. “Finding my son is my only mission in life right now. If I have to help you guys with this fight to earn some trust, then I’ll do that. I need someone who can have access to USR files who will help me.”

  “I think just the guy is coming who could do that. I just don’t understand how you’ve…changed so quickly.”

  Sullivan shook his head. “It hasn’t been quick, amigo. There’s been something inside that’s ate away at me, you know? It just took way too long for me to figure out that I was fighting on the wrong side. Way too long. I just…”

  Their attention turned to the loud sound of the front door being opened. A fresh group of rebels entered the room. They all had a fatigued look about them. Harvey was leading the way in. He gave the two seated men a nod of the head then headed straight for the coffee pot. After Clarke and Buck moved in, Kaspar entered last.

  Kaspar looked around the room. The bright light from above caused him to blink a few times. The strong smell of mildew burned his nose and caused his eyes to water. When his vision was clear, he saw the sight of a man he never thought he would see again. All of a sudden, the anger inside scorched, he could feel the heat on his skin. Beads of sweat began to form around his forehead. There was nothing in that room now except for the Agent who killed Mother. He moved in with that singular focus. His calm, steady hands gripped the handle of Krys’s P99 attached to the holster on his hip. He could almost feel Clarke’s hand reach out for him. With a hard shove, Clarke went spiraling to the ground. Kaspar didn’t even hear the cries for him to stop.

  Instead, he lined the sight of his weapon at Sullivan’s shock laden face.

  .51

  The gun was in perfect sync now with Sullivan’s forehead. Sullivan just froze, not sure of what to do, and X started to stand and go at Kaspar. Kaspar didn’t see him. His focus was still solely on the man in the chair. It all started on that fateful morning so many months ago. The Agent in front of him led a raid that ended the life of Mother. The little boy wasn’t there anymore to stop him. There was nothing to stop him. Nothing but his own nerves could stop him now.

  He was about to pull the trigger when a hard punch to the cheek from X knocked him off his feet. Everything started to go blurry while the room spun around him. Kaspar blinked once and tried to get his bearings back. Once the room stopped its spin a gun was now in
his face. X stood in a perfect position over him to fire. Kaspar tried to get up but was met with a kick to the chest from X.

  “Whoa, whoa.” Harvey cried from the coffee pot. His Glock was now pointed at X. “Drop that weapon, comrade.”

  “No.” X replied. “Not until he explains what the hell is going on.”

  “I said drop it. He’s cool.”

  There was now a crowd gathered around from all the commotion. Kaspar still hadn’t come to, yet, and now X could feel the barrel of a gun against the back of his skull. Buck’s hand shook, but he now had a good shot at the former gangster if push came to shove. Harvey gave him a look of disapproval and motioned with his head for his son to step aside. Buck shook his head and then moved his eyes to the target. Statue, who managed to sneak back inside once the commotion started, pointed his gun to the side of Buck’s head. Buck saw him out the corner of his eye and froze.

  “Don’t you point that gun at him!” Harvey cried.

  “Tell him to stand down, then.” Statue commanded.

  “Son, Goddamn it, drop your weapon!”

  Buck did so and then, with his head straight to the ground, walked away. Statue focused the aim of his gun now on Harvey. Harvey watched it all unfold and it seemed like a bad dream. The resistance was about to embark on the biggest mission of their existence and all they were doing now was in fighting. The leftover couldn’t help but wonder what Kaspar’s beef was with the youngster who just sat there, shocked as all hell. He figured that all would be revealed soon enough.

  “What the fuck’s your problem, kid?” X demanded.

  Kaspar rubbed at his eyes as his senses started to return to him. Once again, it seemed that Sullivan would get away with murder. He was just glad that he was still breathing at this point. That hulk who nearly knocked him out could have ended this whole thing right away, but spared him. Kaspar then began to remember Mother once more and his attempt to rise was again met with a boot to the chest.