Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1) (32 page)

BOOK: Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1)
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Forty-Eight

Kaspar followed Boler into the old, run down shack on the
outskirts of town. Boler opened the door without using a key. He flipped on a
light switch and Kaspar walked in behind and gazed around at his new
surroundings. The first thing that he noticed was there were no decorations,
not even an American flag anywhere. It was an empty place, with stained white
carpet, and torn up maroon furniture that had folded blankets resting on the
arms.

“It’s not much,” Boler admitted. “But, like I said, we can lay low
here for a while.”

“Thanks again, Greg.” Krys said upon her entry.

“No problem.” Boler pointed to a narrow hallway in the back.
“Sorry, but there is only one guest bedroom…one of you can sleep on the floor,
I guess.”

Krys looked over at Kaspar and gave him a wink. Kaspar wondered if
it would be him that would sleep on the floor. He would give that up for Krys
and suffer a long night of discomfort. He thought for a moment on sleeping on
the couch. The couch, however, didn’t look any more comfortable than the floor
would be. Not to mention he would get to have that quiet moment with her that
he desired so much during the mayhem in the church.

“You two better get some sleep,” Boler said. “I have a feeling
that tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Krys held out her right arm and pointed towards the door. “After
you.”

Kaspar started to move forward. He felt a hand grab at his arm. He
looked over at Boler who fished for something in his pocket.
What now?
Boler grabbed hold of something and held it out for him. It was a folded piece
of white paper. Kaspar took it in his hands, confused.

“The Committee told me to give you this.” Boler said.

“You spoke with them? Why?”

“I’m not sure why. They just told me to give this to you when the
time was right. So, there you go.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

After he placed the paper in his pocket, Kaspar continued to move
to the bedroom. He would have to wait until morning to look at that thing.
Sleep was evading him. Whatever was on that slip, he didn’t want it to
potentially ruin his night.

Once in the bedroom, he gave it a look. The white carpet was as
dirty as the living room’s. There were stains of reds, blacks, and yellows. He
didn’t allow himself to think about what the yellows might have been. A queen
sized bed rested in the back corner, next to the cracked glass window. There
was a thick, red comforter and two blue pillows. An extra blanket and pillow
lay on the edge of the bed. Kaspar undid the flak jacket and placed it on the
carpet. He then unzipped the top of his suit and pulled his arms out of it. He
folded it neatly and placed it on the dresser beside him.

Kaspar picked up the blanket and pillow from the edge. When he
turned, he saw Krys stand in front of him. Her flak jacket already removed. She
raised her eyebrow at the sight of Kaspar holding the bedding. He looked
confused back at her. There was no way that he was going to sleep on that
filthy ass carpet. Plus, Krys was a woman, she needed her privacy. Their moment
could wait until morning, when they were fully rested.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Krys demanded, her arms folded
over her chest.

“Out to the couch,” he replied. “There’s no way I’m sleeping on
that floor.”

He moved the bedding underneath his left arm. With his right hand,
he reached for the door handle. Krys moved her body in front of it, blocking
his path. She shook her head no. When he tried to move her over, she moved in
closer instead. She gave him a peck on the lips. A hint of the adrenaline that
he thought faded came roaring back. He returned the kiss then moved his head
back. Krys shook her head again. She wrapped her arms around his waist. The two
exchanged in a prolonged kiss this time. He could taste her as she moved her
tongue inside of his mouth. As the kiss grew more intense, and Krys began to
aggressively direct him to the bed, one thought came to mind.

Could it get any better than this?

***

Paxton snapped back to consciousness. He looked around to realize
that he was in an office. The office was decorated with very nice and expensive
furniture. He looked in front to see a solid, red oak desk. When he looked
down, he saw the smelling salts wrapped up in paper. The chemicals had forced
him from his peaceful slumber.

He looked to the left and winced at the pain in his neck. The
wound had been bandaged up. Why did they save him? Why didn’t they just let him
die? As he was still coming to, he could feel the cold, solid steel wrapped
around his wrists. He began to move his hands.

“Don’t bother,” an Agent said. “You’re strapped in tight.”

Paxton ignored the pain and moved his head further left. He
recognized the man as the squad leader from the lab. The Agent still had that
stupid grin on his face. He loved his job too much, which made him a very, very
evil man, Paxton thought. Paxton coughed and looked straight down.

“Where am I?” he demanded.

“Inside the Consul’s office, of course. He would very much like to
speak with you. He’s got a lot of questions.”

“I’m afraid I’m short on answers.”

Paxton could feel the tape that attached the gauze to his neck
start to come free. He coughed again. The squad leader moved his hand over to
the bandage and pressed firm on the loose tape. The strong hand sent a sting of
pain down Paxton’s neck.

“Don’t you worry about that neck, now, okay? We’ve fixed you up
real good. You owe us your life, you know?”

“Forgive me if I’m not grateful.” Paxton replied.

The door opened from behind them. The old veteran kept his head
down as the Agent saluted the man who entered. Finally, after all this time,
Paxton would get to give the vile man who lied to the innocents every day a
piece of his mind. He moved his head up to the right, once again ignoring the
pain. His heart sank as a familiar figure walked past him. Paxton laughed to
himself in between coughs. Of course…it all made too much sense.

“I’m glad you can still find humor given your current
predicament.” the Consul said.

It was not Williamson. It was Pat
Roberson.

Forty-Nine

“It was you all along, wasn’t it?” Paxton demanded. A new kind of
fury entered his consciousness now.

“Of course it was.” Roberson replied. He walked behind his desk
and pulled the large leather chair back.

“How could we be so foolish?”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Roberson replied. He took a seat in his
chair. “We are just extremely proficient in what we do.”

Paxton let out another laugh as Roberson grinned back at him. The
Consul looked up and dismissed the Agent. They exchanged salutes and he exited
the office. Roberson spun his chair around and marveled at his beautiful city.
The crowd of citizens below started to form in front of the building with more
coming from off in the distance. Roberson smiled once more.

“Ah,” Roberson said as he spun his chair back to face Paxton. “Our
guests are finally arriving.”

“Guests?”

“You are scheduled for public execution tonight. Those citizens
down there that you’ve been terrorizing will be very pleased with the fine work
we’ve done in capturing you. They cannot wait for you to answer for your
crimes.”

Paxton looked up, pale faced. “My crimes? What about your crimes?”

“I’m…sorry, what crimes have I committed?”

“Genetic mutation…the deaths of God knows how many innocent
women.”

Roberson stared directly into Paxton’s eyes. “To my recollection,
nobody is innocent.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“All humans have their own sins, passed down to them from the
generation before.”

Paxton grit his teeth. “Cut the shit. Why are you poisoning the
water supply?”

“You’ve already spoken with Danny, I believe?”

“Yes.”

Roberson sighed. “Then he’s already explained it to you.”

“What’s your role in all this?”

“I’m the true…Consul of this city, if that’s what you want to call
me. Williamson? That old fool is just another one of my pawns. He does exactly
what I tell him to do.”

Paxton looked at Roberson’s smug face. He saw nothing but pure
evil. He cursed himself for allowing the bastard in front of him to use his men
for so long. It was all just one big game. Roberson created The Committee to
trick Paxton and his team into doing the USR’s dirty work for them. Everything
that he and his crew had done…it was all for nothing. Was this truly Paxton’s
fate? In seeking liberty, before and after the USR, he was nothing but a pawn.

“The Committee…all lies…” Paxton mumbled. “We thought that you were
going to take control once we’d won.”

Roberson chuckled. “Once you’d won? Not even close, my friend.”

“But…why?”

“You Americans…you had your freedom and look what you did with
yourselves. Child pornography, murders, funding wars on false pretenses,
corporate greed...killing yourselves with fast food, alcohol, and tobacco. We
had to take back our rightful seats of power…before you animals destroyed
everything.”

“So, you decided to take control over the individual?”

“Exactly.” Roberson said as he clapped his hands together. “Look
at how low our crime rates are right now. Smoking related deaths? Non-existent
now. Same goes for citizens being killed by drunken drivers. No more children
being used. Hehe…no more terrorism…except for you.”

Paxton clinched his fists until his knuckles were white. “You’ve
been using us all along, to tighten your grip on the population.”

“You…are wise beyond your years. But, you are not the only ones.”

“Huh?”

“When we told you and Robert about our plan…that we had Committees
all across the nation, that was no lie. We do have Committees everywhere, and
they all are aiding resistance fighters, like yourself, in order to spread the
fear and to remind people of why the US of A was so evil in the first place.”

Paxton tried with all his might to break free of the handcuffs.
“Danny told me that you all eliminated all the resistance fighters and just
used us for the media attention.”

“He was correct when he told you that. The real threat, the real
resistance fighters all in this region have been eliminated. As well as across
the nation. Every major city has a group of American loving terrorists that we,
the USR, support to further our reach of control.”

“What about the individual?” Paxton demanded.

“What about it?” Roberson demanded with a raised eyebrow.

“You can’t just take away someone’s freedoms…their liberties. And
all for what?”

“Freedoms?!” Roberson cried. It was his turn to get angry as he
slammed his fist against the top of his desk. “Liberties?! The individual’s
only goal is to pursue his own interests. No matter how filthy and decrepit. He
will follow his pursuits until he dies. He cares nothing for the wellbeing of
others. Now, we tell you what to do, what to believe. And, in that process, we
save you. Don’t you see?”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Bullshit? Do you want me to explain what bullshit really is to
you?”

“Give it a try.”

“You and that rag tag group of rebels that we set up for you. You
were so easy to manipulate, John. Your blind patriotism and hatred for the evil
USR clouded your thinking. You allowed your own beliefs, your own morals, to be
swept aside in pursuit of your vendetta.”

“Everything I did,” Paxton said, his breathing heavy. “Was so that
others could enjoy a way of life that I once did. A way of life that my father
and grandfather died for. It doesn’t matter to me what it takes to get it
done.”

Roberson sprang up in his chair. “That way of thinking is exactly
why we are needed.”

“I’ll tell you a little bullshit of my own.”

“What’s that?”

“How many women do you think are going to die over your little
experiment with the water supply?” Paxton demanded.

“That is all beside the point.”

“How’s that?”

“A little collateral damage,” Roberson replied. “Even we can agree
that it’s needed at times.”

“Well,” Paxton said. He looked away and worked on the handcuffs
again. “It looks like your little experiment took a setback tonight.”

Roberson smirked. “You haven’t learned anything, have you?”

“What?”

“Do you really think, after all I just told you, that I would
allow you to destroy our product unless I wanted you to?”

Paxton said nothing. Just keep him talking, he thought. Roberson
was so self-righteous that he wouldn’t be smart enough to know when someone was
playing dumb with him.
Buy yourself some time…to get these Goddamn handcuffs
undone.
His brain scrambled for any trick he might have learned in the past
about getting out of handcuffs. Once he got free, he would rush the bastard.
Sure, the coward would trip an alarm. But, those Agents outside wouldn’t be fast
enough to prevent the snap of their leaders neck by Paxton’s hands.
Just
keep focused…

“The hell are you talking about?” Paxton demanded.

“It is true that you’ve destroyed
some
of our drugs. But
those were obsolete. We were going to throw them out anyway. Those men, they
were to kill all of your comrades, bring you in alive, if possible. If all else
failed, you and your friends would have committed another act of terrorism.
Looks like we’re going to get the best of both worlds tonight, though.”

“You are so full of shit,” Paxton said.

“Am I? How many of my men have you killed…tortured, even?”

“That’s different. They are the enemy…
you
are the enemy to
all those people outside, even if they are too blind to see it. What I do is
called war. What you do is just plain, cold blooded murder.”

“We are at war at all times, Mr. Paxton. At war with ourselves,
culture, human nature.”

Paxton looked straight down again, nothing but anger and
frustration consumed him. He could not stand to listen to Roberson any longer.
He couldn’t stand to listen to his justifications for the murder of innocents.
And, at the same time, he grew tired of the Consul trying to point the finger
at him and his team as being the true bad guys. He spit on the floor.

“What about storming people’s homes? Killing innocent women and
children?”

“We had to root out the resistance.” Roberson replied.

“Ha. You knew it was us all along. You knew all along they weren’t
involved and you still went through with it.”

“And, you can thank yourself for that. Your very existence made
all of that possible. If you had only listened to me. I warned you time and
time again in my Chamber to lay low. You forced my hand, John.”

“You expected me to just sit back and watch the USR, you, tear
this city apart…I couldn’t live with myself if I did. I can’t just sit on my
hands and watch it all burn.”

“You see,” Roberson said. He pointed his index finger. “That is
exactly what I’ve been trying to explain to you. I pressed the right buttons,
because I knew which ones to press.”

“How about this button?” Paxton asked.

The metal handcuffs crashed to the floor. Roberson shot up from
his chair in shock. Paxton, ignoring the pain and fatigue, summoned something
deep within. His heart pounded in anticipation as he pulled himself on top of
the desk. The Consul pushed a red button beside his chair. He back pedaled to
the wall. Paxton moved in fast. He gripped Roberson by the neck and squeezed.
The old veteran found enjoyment in watching the most vile human being alive
take his last breath. The neck snapped. The office doors flung open as Agents
converged on him.

Paxton closed his eyes.

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