Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) (17 page)

Krys took the news of
the failed mission about as good as anyone could take a death sentence. She
just went silent and remained that way as they made their escape from the
mountain. Two hours passed in the back of the vehicle and still no words were
spoken. Kaspar rubbed at his cheek where the bandages had been placed. The bits
of shrapnel that fileted his face had given him one large, nasty gash and
several other scratches all across the side. It hurt like hell when Sanders
used the tweezers to get the small pieces of razor sharp bits out.

Across from him, Krys
lay down on the bench, all bundled up under the blankets. Kaspar grew haunted
by the wide eyed, emotionless look on her face. The only thing that remained to
occupy his mind, until Krys felt like talking, was the mystery of what exactly
happened. Those were USR fighter jets, that much was certain, but why would
they do this?

Kaspar had to accept
where they were at this point. Krys, as much as he hated to admit it, was
likely to die within…hell, he didn’t want to speculate. There was nothing he
could do to save her any longer, unless there was a miracle waiting somewhere
at the end of this darkness. Somehow, he doubted it. Too much was wrong with
this world to hope for something as impossible as a miracle.

He started to say something
to her, some type of motivational talk, but held back. The way he figured it,
she needed the time to sit and think. As much as he loved her, and as much as
he wanted to, there was nothing he could say to make the poison go away.
Instead of talking, he got up from his seated position and moved to a seat
right next to her head. He moved his fingers to her strands of hair and played
around with her soft locks. Krys slowly moved to her side, her breathing heavy,
and looked at Kaspar with those wide, brown eyes that Kaspar loved. There was
no room for smiling, though, not right now.

Krys coughed then
said, “I’m sorry.”

Kaspar raised an
eyebrow. “
You’re
sorry? For what?”

“I’m sorry that you
couldn’t save me. I know how badly you wanted to.”

Kaspar moved in close
and gave Krys a kiss on her lips. Krys didn’t have the strength for any kind of
intimate kiss, but Kaspar didn’t care. Any kind of kiss from the woman of his
dreams was good enough for him. He cherished the kiss and, after their lips
left each other’s, he could feel a single tear run down his left cheek. Krys
moved her hand up and wiped it away just as tears started to flow from her own
eyes. With a strong tug, Kaspar pulled her close from under her arms, and she
rested her head on his chest. He kissed the top of her head then looked
straight ahead. Only one thought ran through his mind at that moment.

The USR would
pay…in blood.

***

The two old war
veterans sat by themselves in the back of Sanders’s tank. They had their
laptops turned on, wired in to the news stations which were rapidly reporting
the news of, what they called, the worst act of terrorism ever committed
against the USR. Several of the Consuls from all over the country were
condemning the resistance and the old way of life which led to this atrocity.
Harvey had to slam his laptop shut as he couldn’t stand to listen to it
anymore.

“Hell of a thing to
do,” Sanders said, eyes still glued to his large computer screen.

“What?” Harvey
demanded.

“This, the USR, its
one helluva power play.”

“We were setup all
along, weren’t we?”

Sanders nodded his
head. “No doubt about it. They destroy the cure, which was probably leaked to
your guys on purpose, get us on video heading in that direction. Then, the big
bad Agents move in to save the day. Like I said, helluva power play.”

“You don’t sound a bit
surprised.”

Sanders shook his
head. “I’m not surprised. I could smell this trap from a mile away.”

“Why’d you agree to
help us then?” Harvey demanded. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Sanders didn’t reply.

 “How many men did we
lose today? All on some farce that you saw coming? Now, Krys is about to go. No
way we’re going to be recovering from this for a long time.”

Sanders sighed, “So
easy to give in to defeat you are, Sam. There are still others like us. Units
that the USR built to expand their influence. We’ll strike back at them hard.
They won’t even see it coming.”

Harvey shook his head
and leaned back in his chair. Sanders was talking all crazy again. The cure was
the one thing that the resistance could possess that could’ve changed the tides
in this war. Now, that trump card was gone, and all they had to show for it
were the lives of brave men. There was nothing else they could do. Not right
now, anyway, with their unit all beat to shit.

“Stop shaking your
damn head,” Sanders said. “I’ve known rookie pukes with more dedication to the
mission than you.”

“Rookie pukes don’t
know better, either.”

“So, what now, we just
fold our tents and pack it in?”

“Not forever, just
until we rest up and maybe find some more guys.”

Sanders stood and
walked over to the side of the vehicle. With his arm rested against the cold
steel wall, he buried his head into it. After several sighs he faced Harvey
again. Harvey could sense the sadness in his new partner’s eyes. It was a
sadness that he could understand. The war seemed more and more like one they
couldn’t win. He wondered if Sanders could sense the same thing. If they
couldn’t win, Sanders seemed like the type to give them as much hell as
possible before the end.

The two soldiers
remained in what would’ve looked like a trance like stare to the uninformed.
The whole time, Harvey tried to get a read on what exactly Sanders was
thinking. He obviously had something in mind, the only thing that bothered
Harvey was how much trouble they were about to get into.

“Let me ask you
something,” Sanders finally said. “Soldier to soldier, have you looked in the
mirror lately?”

“What’s that supposed
to mean?” Harvey wondered.

“Nothing philosophical
or any of that bullshit. I mean literally, have you looked in the mirror? We’re
getting old…we’re already old. How much time do you think we have left?”

Harvey sighed. “I know
we’re not young anymore. But, just because we’re old doesn’t mean we need to be
fool hearty.”

Sanders slammed his
fist on the side of the vehicle. “Who’s being fool hearty?! I’ve got just a few
more years left, you get me?”

“I understand, but
we’ve just suffered a major loss. Let’s take some time…”

“There you go with
time again.”

“What do you propose?”
Harvey asked.

“We’ve got that geek
of yours in that other vehicle, right?”

Harvey shook his head.
“We can’t trust any of that, not after today.”

Sanders slammed his
fist one last time before he took a seat. Harvey felt pity for the old soldier.
It was never easy to suffer a defeat. Everyone dealt with it differently. For
Sanders, it was always about the next fight. That was the way his mind
operated. Sanders rubbed his hands together as he sat.

“How about something
we do know about…for a fact.”

“What’s that?”

“D.C.” Sanders
replied. “The Capitol.”

Harvey was shocked at
the mere mention of the Capitol. Almost anyone who was a leftover knew about
D.C. Right at the beginning of the USR’s reign, they blew up the White House,
the Capitol building, all of the old monuments, everything in “old D.C.” was
now in ruins. It was a way of saying that the old ways were over. The rubble
from the explosion was never cleaned up. There were still chunks of the old
structures stuck into the ground. In its place, the USR built a smaller, five
story structure which also served as a way of saying the United States was
defeated. We are here now. It was a key structure for the USR. One that, if the
resistance brought down or took over, would cause serious shockwaves through the
USR’s leaders.

“No,” Harvey said with
a shake of his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell not?”
Sanders demanded.

“We don’t have the man
power to carry out such an operation, for one thing.”

Sanders smiled. “I’ve
got connections, too, you know. We can assemble a squad large enough if we
wanted to.”

“What about the
repercussions?”

“There will always be
repercussions, you know that, Sam.”

“Not like this. The
USR will up the ante if we succeeded.”

“We’ve got to do
something. We can’t just roll over and play dead for a while. They certainly
don’t give a damn about harming—killing—their own people as we saw tonight.
They need to be reminded that we’re still around and not playing their fucking
games.”

“So, this is about us
proving something to them? It’s too risky.”

“Of course we’re
trying to prove something to them. Not only that, but if we could do
something…drastic like this, it will motivate the other patriots out there.
Besides, you want the USR to think that they can just do this shit and get away
with it? Not me. No, I’m going to get on the phones with my contacts. You want
in? You can join us. I’ll let you think about it.”

With that, Sanders sat
back down in front of his computer. He grabbed a pair of headphones and turned
the volume up. All Sanders wanted right now was to be alone, but being stuck in
the vehicle with Harvey made that impossible.

Harvey walked over to
one of the benches and lay down on his back. The thought of striking back at
the heart of the USR was intriguing, he just couldn’t get past the feeling that
it was too soon. They still needed recovery time. But, maybe Sanders was right
for once. He wasn’t getting any younger and the USR was only getting stronger.
If they could succeed in taking over that building, that could send the right
message to all the other resistance units around the country that there was
hope. Harvey forced his upper body back up. He looked in Sanders’s direction
and his partner looked back. With a thumbs up, the message was clear.

Harvey was all in.

“Ryan, I think
something’s wrong.” Krys said.

Those words jolted
Kaspar from his sleep. For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming as he saw
Krys fall off the bench. He moved over to her with swiftness and picked her up.
Her entire body shook and her lips trembled. When she started to gag, he
reached over for the orange bucket next to them. Once he placed it in front of
her, she started to vomit into it without control. The vomiting was so fierce
that she only had a few seconds in between each evacuation to breathe.

This was it, Kaspar
thought. There was a feeling of guilt inside when it didn’t hit him as hard as
he thought it would. However, he told himself that he had been anticipating
this moment for so long that he was almost desensitized to it. Still, there was
a massive feeling of sadness that gripped him on the inside. He fought back the
tears in an attempt to be stronger for her.

As he held her, he
reached into his pocket for his walkie. He cried into it telling everyone to
stop and pull over if it was safe. Krys was very sick and she needed some kind
of medical attention. When the words were said into the device, he could feel
the vehicle stop dead in its tracks. Krys finished vomiting and wiped her mouth
with her sleeve. In all the times that she was sick, she never looked this bad.
Her face was pale and her lips were blue. She was gasping for breath.

The doors behind them
opened and the rest of the crew filed into the back. Kaspar saw Harvey, who had
a concerned look on his face. With a simple shake of the head, Harvey’s eyes
dropped. The rebel leader had a syringe in his hand and moved in on Krys.

“No,” Krys said at the
sight of it. “No more, please. I just want to rest.”

“Are you sure? This
can make you feel better.” Harvey replied.

“I said no. It’s over,
Sam. Just let me be.”

Harvey nodded his head
and turned. He told the others to file out and give the two inside some
privacy. The door shut behind Kaspar and Krys again. Kaspar looked deep into
his lover’s eyes and tried to picture her healthy, happy, and free once again.
His heart was sinking at the thought of this being the last image of her that
he would ever see.

“Not yet,” Kaspar
said. “Not like this. Take the meds.”

“Why?” Krys asked.

“It’s to help you.”

“Ryan, I’m ready to go.
I’ve been suffering for so long. I just want it to end, the suffering, I just
want it to end.”

Kaspar could not fight
back the tears any longer. His grip on her body grew stronger. He lifted her
head close to his. He didn’t care if she had just been sick. He brought his
lips close to hers and kissed them. After the kiss on the lips, he gave her
several pecks on her cheek. He then moved his forehead to hers. She was so
cold, that was the one thing that struck Kaspar more than anything else. He
never realized that a person could get this cold and still breathe.

“Ryan,” Krys said with
trembling lips. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t stop fighting.
And, don’t fight just to avenge me or your mother. Find the real reason behind
what we’re doing and fight for that.”

“Okay,” Kaspar
replied. He started to run his fingers through her hair.

“You’re not going to
are you?” Krys asked with a small laugh.

“I’ll try. But, you
know why I joined this fight, and now you’re gone, I don’t see any real reason
other than to kill as many of those bastards as I can.”

“Just, try, as long as
you try, that would make me happy.”

“I’ll try.”

“Can you see that?”
Krys wondered.

“What?”

Those were her last
words. When the breathing stopped, her body went limp and became heavy. Kaspar
wept and held her body close to his. All the experiences she had in life, all
the highs and lows, all of the love that they shared, were gone in that
instant. Kaspar wondered what it must have been like for her. For someone who
truly lived her life to fullest and now, in the blink of an eye, it was all
gone. Did anything she did even matter, in the grand scheme of things? It
mattered to Kaspar, of that much he was sure of, but once Kaspar met his
eventual end, what then?

The words he wanted to
say, that he loved her with everything inside, didn’t come out in time. He
would never be able to tell her, wouldn’t be able to speak to her ever again,
and the weeping at that thought grew stronger. He looked into her wide, brown
eyes that were once so full of life, and now they only looked aimless. Kaspar
became haunted by the image of her dead eyes being wide open. It reminded him
of Mother the last time he saw her. Was this his lot in life? Would anyone he
cared about suffer a cruel, early death? For the second time, Kaspar felt like
his life had been snatched away from him.

“Krys?” Kaspar asked
out of sheer hope that she would snap out of it. He began to shake her body.
“Krys? KRYS!”

The others outside
heard the shout and opened the door behind him. Kaspar didn’t bother to look
over to them. He buried his head into Krys’s chest and began to weep without
control. None of the others tried to intervene, except for Clarke, who had a
tear run down his own cheek. He walked over to Kaspar and placed a hand on his
shoulder. Kaspar didn’t move. The only movement from him came from his lungs,
which tried to draw breath in between the sobs.

Clarke said a silent
good-bye to his old friend and walked out.

***

A clap of thunder
brought Kaspar back to the present. After the thunder came another strike of
lighting. The bolts above lit up the black night sky and illuminated the near
empty field. The intensity of the rain increased which created deep puddles of
rain water atop the thick, green grass. He felt the lump in his throat and that
promise that he made, that he wouldn’t cry and instead stay strong, came close
to being broken. He watched as Sanders and his men  lowered Krys’s body,
lifeless and wrapped tight with white blankets, into the ground. Harvey and his
son stood alongside the deep chasm with an American flag in their hands.

After another clap of
thunder, he felt a firm hand grip his left shoulder. Kaspar turned that way and
nodded his head at Clarke. Clarke looked deep into his eyes through the thick
lenses with beads of water dripping down them. It was at this moment that
Kaspar realized that Clarke was the only friend that he had left.

Sanders shouted
something that was nearly muffled by the thunderous skies above. Three of the
men turned and pointed their LWRC PSDs to the sky. Sanders screamed “fire!” and
they obeyed. The loud cracks of the rifles echoed in the air. Kaspar jolted in
surprise just before Sanders ordered another round of fire.

Harvey and Buck then
began to fold the American flag. With it folded, Harvey had a few things to say
about patriotism and how the world had just lost a great warrior. Not just a
warrior, Harvey reminded all of them, but a great person and friend, as well.
Kaspar paid little attention to it. Instead, his mind was consumed with the memories
he had with Krys. These memories that he had would last in his consciousness as
long as he remained alive. In that way, it would be like the fallen was never
really gone. However, just like with Mother, Kaspar knew that she would never
be visible in this world again.

Harvey turned to
Kaspar and asked if he wanted to say a few words. He nodded and walked to the
front. What could be said about the person who brought him to life and was now
gone? The person that he loved the most in this whole world left him and now he
was forced to wander around, alone. As his mind raced for something to say, he
took a deep breath, fighting back a few tears as he did. He would regret this
moment forever if he simply said nothing at his one true love’s funeral.

“What can I say?”
Kaspar started. He felt the lump in his throat again and paused to clear it.
“Krys was the funniest, strangest, and bravest person I have ever met. I am
positive that as long as I live, I will never meet someone that I will love
more than her. When we first met, I was so self-absorbed in my own sorrow, in
my own self-pity. She taught me that it was okay to live with my pain. And, no
matter how selfish or stubborn I was, she loved me like no one has ever loved
me. She was the best person on the planet. And, believe me when I say this, the
USR will pay for her death.”

He had already
forgotten the promise that he made to her with those words.