Patriots & Tyrants (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 2) (28 page)

There would be no
sleeping tonight. No matter how much Harvey’s brain told him to go to sleep,
when his head hit the pillow, no sleep would come. It was going to be another
long night before a battle. One would think that a decorated soldier like
Harvey would have been used to it by now, but that was far from the case. As
much as he loved the feel of battle, the emotions, the adrenaline rush, he
could never stand the night before.

Out in the main lobby
sat Clarke. He was sitting upright in a perfect posture just staring off into
the distance. Harvey was surprised to see that there was no computer around. It
seemed that computers were attached to Clarke’s hip most of the time. The old
Marine walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a steaming cup.

“Don’t you ever
sleep?” Harvey wondered as he pulled up a chair across from him. This was not
the first time he had caught Clarke up late.

“I’m kind of an
insomniac,” Clarke replied with a slight chuckle.

Harvey smiled, “What
are you thinking about?”

“Isn’t it all over my
face?”

“No,” Harvey said,
peering through the crystal clear lenses over Clarke’s eyes. “I don’t see any
emotion at all.”

“Oh, right. I’m
thinking about the mission tomorrow. I’ve never gone in on an actual fight like
I’m about to.”

“You think you can
handle it?” Harvey asked, wincing as the hot coffee pierced his tongue.

“I’m not too sure. Not
sure I even want to.”

“I’m confused. You
were all gung ho about it at the meeting today.”

Clarke sighed, “I’ve
always hated being left out. Left out of a mission, left out of whatever, so I
thought this would be my opportunity to get in on the action. Not be left out,
you know?”

“I guess. Hey, if
you’re having second thoughts…”

“No,” Clarke replied
with a stern tone out of place with the rest of him. “I’m not cowering out
now.”

“So, what’s it going
to be then?”

“I’m going to go in
there and, hell or high water, and I’m going to get that information from their
computer systems. That’s my role in this whole thing. I’m the tech guy. I’m not
going to fail.”

Harvey sipped at the
coffee once again and then looked into Clarke’s eyes. What he saw was a deep
resolve. If Clarke was feeling like a coward, he was doing a good job of hiding
it. For as long as Harvey knew Clarke, he hadn’t changed a bit, but he had
never seen him act with this kind of bravery. Admiration was the only feeling towards
Clarke in his head right now. Not to mention that he was good friends, possibly
best friends, with an old war buddy, that led him to be more prone to trusting
him. The computer wizard hadn’t betrayed that trust, yet, but he wasn’t so sure
about putting him in a battle situation. He was so green that it was radiating
off of him like nuclear material in the old cartoons.

“What happens,” Harvey
wondered, “when we get in a jam in there?”

“You think we will?”

“We’re bound to.”

“I’ll have to rely on
you guys.”

Harvey waved his index
finger in the air. “Might not work that way. Can you even handle a gun?”

“I’ve fired handguns
at shooting ranges.”

“You ever have to use
it on someone?”

“No,” Clarke replied
with his head down. 

“I see.”

“Is it hard…to kill
someone?”

“The first time you do
it, yes. But, it does get easier, I guess. It’s never a fun thing to kill an
enemy. You just have to know that you’re in the right, and that you’re fighting
for what you know is right. After that, and you’ve done it so many times, it’s
not so bad. You’ve got to take out anybody who stands in your way.”

“I’m not sure I could
handle killing someone…even an enemy.”

Harvey leaned in close
which took a hold of Clarke’s attention. “I need to know that you can handle
this. If you even for a second think that you can’t, let me know, I’ll talk to
Roy. Nobody will think…”

“No! I’m doing this.”
Clarke cried. His breathing started to quicken. “I need to do it. No more
sitting back, waiting. I’ve got a job to do and only I can do it. Nobody else
can.”

“Can you handle it?”

Clarke hesitated,
“Yes.”

“Okay, that’s all I
need to know.”

Harvey knew that Clarke
was just saying what he wanted to hear. His hope was that, even if he didn’t
mean it fully, just saying the words would instill some much needed confidence
in him. There would be no way to be sure until they were actually in the field,
and that was what scared the hell out of Harvey. Would his life, and by
extension, the lives of his unit be at risk bringing along a virgin whose
cherry was about to be popped? He had already lost enough good men in this war
and the thought of losing another didn’t sit well in his stomach. There was
still time to…

“What are you pukes
doing up so late?” Sanders demanded as he stormed into the lobby. Underneath
his arms rested blue prints for the battle that had been drawn up earlier in
the day.

“Roy, how are you,
sir?” Clarke said.

“Don’t call me ‘Roy’.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“You know what?”
Sanders cried as he slammed the blue prints onto a table behind them. “Don’t
call me ‘sir’, either. Just don’t talk to me right now.”

Harvey stood. “There’s
no need for that,
Roy
.”

“Don’t you start with
me, you hear? I’ve got too many things on my mind right now.”

“Getting flip with us
isn’t going to change anything.”

Sanders slammed a fist
on the table. “This mission is too important. I need to look over these battle
plans with a fine tooth comb to ensure that we are victorious. I also have you
and that…hacker to worry about. Just give me some peace and quiet.”

“This is a public
lobby…maybe you should go somewhere more private.”

Sanders stood up and
went face to face with Harvey. Harvey could see the anger in his comrade’s
eyes, but he didn’t waver. He just stared right back. If it came to blows, then
so be it, Harvey had faith in his hand to hand fighting capabilities against
the leftover in front of him.

“I’ve grown tired of
your insubordination.” Sanders said.

Harvey didn’t back
down. “I’ve grown tired of your disrespect and bullshit.”

“Don’t you forget who
is in command here.”

“Maybe I should
relieve you of your command.”

Sanders balled his
fists. “Go ahead and try.”

Clarke stood and put
his hands on both of the men’s chests. “Come on, guys, we don’t need this. Sam
and I will go elsewhere.”

“Fine by me,” Sanders
replied, eyes still square on Harvey. “Our final meeting is tomorrow morning,
nine sharp. Do try to get some sleep.”

“Fine. You just worry
about the outside tomorrow night. My men and I will take care of raising the
flag.”

“Make sure you do. If
you don’t, and you’re not dead, I’ll kill you myself.”

Sanders stood at the
podium with all of the soldiers under his command staring back at him. There
was an overwhelming amount of energy that he could feel inside. The feelings
became too intense to hold in. They were all in the lobby, the only room big
enough to house them all in. It was still cramped, each man was touching arms
with his fellow soldiers on both sides, but it made due. When he decided it was
ready to start the briefing, he gave several pounds on the podium with a balled
fist. The loud bangs echoed through the microphone in front of him and he got
his men’s full attention.

“I can’t tell you how
deeply moved and excited I am to see you all here today.” Sanders said with a
grin. “Tonight, we are going to give the USR a swift kick in the ass.”

That comment got a rise
out of the men. They all lifted their voices in cries as if the mission was
already a success. That was good, though, Sanders thought as he moved his hands
up and down to get control back over the room. It was better to have a group a
touch too confident than the other way around. These men had seen too many
battles, battles in which they lost friends and fellow soldiers, and the USR
was still seemingly standing tall. They needed something like this, and Sanders
knew it.

“Okay, okay, let’s
cool it a little bit. We haven’t won anything…yet.”

Sanders went on to
explain the specifics of the mission. The USR would, if all went according to
plan, be caught off guard with the amount of force that would be coming their
way. The resistance would move in with their vehicles and surround the
building. There was a fair amount of concern within Sanders as not all of the
teams had armored vehicles. Some resorted to vans, or other vehicles which
wouldn’t stand a chance against an attack versus an enemy armored vehicle, but
it would have to do because there wasn’t another option for them.

They would build a
perimeter around the building with rebels all around the circle. The remaining
units would converge on the USR building and take on the ground troops who
would move out to take on the threat. After that, Harvey and his unit would
move into the building and, after gathering as much Intel as possible, would
raise Old Glory on top, replacing the USR flag.

It all seemed too
perfect to Sanders as he explained it. However, he knew that it wouldn’t be the
case once they got out there. On the battlefield, he knew, anything could
happen. As was typical for him, he felt a sense of guilt glaring around the
room, looking into the eyes of all those looking up to him. Some of them would
not make it through this alive. But, he also knew that their sacrifice would
serve the greater good, which moved his guilt level down several notches.

“Of course,” Sanders
continued. “Not all of us will make it out of this alive. So, if you find yourself
lying on the ground, knowing you are about to die, just think about your fellow
men out there fighting with you. Think about those innocent civilians you are
fighting for. And, remember that you can go to your maker, whoever that may be,
and tell it that you died with honor. You’re giving freedom a chance to ring
once more!”

There was a loud
collective roar from the crowd once again. Sanders threw up his hands again to
get control. It took a few moments, but the men quieted down.

“I commend you all for
your courage. There are a lot of cowards in this thing, on both sides, but none
of you are. We’ll meet back here at 1800. You’re free to do whatever until
then. Please be geared up by then. Dismissed.”

Kaspar, who was
standing in the back of the crowded room by the door, reached for the handle
and threw the door open. The rush of cool air from the outside felt good
against his arms and face. While he walked outside, and the others moved out
all around him, he wondered how Sanders could be so long winded when there was
no air to breath inside there. That no longer mattered to him now, as Sanders
finally finished.

The words about
courage, bravery, and death hit him hard in the gut. He didn’t know if he had
courage, or if he was still just that angry young man who wanted revenge and
nothing more. Deep down, he wanted to be courageous, but he didn’t know if that
was in him at all. Since he was free to do whatever he wanted, he would do the
only thing that came to his mind. It wasn’t like he had anyone to spend what
could be his last moments on this earth with, anyway.

Kaspar moved straight
for the shooting range.

Sullivan reached down
for his flak jacket. With a firm grip he lifted it up off of the bench and
tightened it around his waist. During his time as an Agent, he had the best
training that credits could buy. He never had to use his combat training,
however, as his line of work just called for breaking into people’s homes,
using his weapon as necessary, and then questioning his suspects. Being in a
real combat situation was something new to him. He tried to remember that
training, but it all seemed to fail him now, most likely due to the nerves.

“You okay, Puerco?” X
wondered as he geared up.

“I’ve never been in
combat.” Sullivan admitted, reaching for his ZX-17.

“It’s okay, I haven’t,
either.”

“I guess it’s a good
thing I’ve had training, though, huh?”

X ducked under the
shoulder strap of his assault rifle. “I’ve never had training, and I’m not as
nervous as you. It’s easy. Just point your gun at the enemy and fire.”

“I guess so,” Sullivan
replied.

“Hey,” X said,
slapping Sullivan on the shoulder. “That’s easy for me to say. I don’t have any
family or anything to lose. Just stay close to us, we got your back.”

Sullivan half smiled
as he thought about Davey. This battle wasn’t about anything to him other than
a means to find his son. He had to find a way to get in good with the
resistance so they could perhaps help him out. He was also fighting for his
son. Davey was in the hands of what was now Sullivan’s enemy. The thought never
crossed his mind that he would actually be fighting for the resistance. All
that time he spent chasing after them seemed like a waste. He wished now, more
than ever, that he had taken up his wife’s demands and got out. Maybe none of
this would have happened.

One of the things
about life, though, is that one can’t know the future and one can’t change the
past. Sullivan struggled with those thoughts. He also wondered if he was doing
the right thing at all in going after his government in this way. If the USR
found out he participated in this battle that would only mean bad things for
his son. But, since he couldn’t tell the future, he just had to go full steam
ahead with this thing. He knew that he couldn’t go on a search for Davey
without any help. His old employers sure as hell weren’t going to help him.
They were the ones who gave him up in the first place.

“Why are you in this
shit?” Sullivan wondered as he worked on the shoulder strap of his rifle.

“I don’t know,” X
replied. “I just want to make a difference, you know? Make up for all the bad
that I’ve done. All the damage I’ve caused.”

“Nothing to do with
the old red, white, and blue?”

X pondered for a
moment. “I guess so, maybe a little bit, but back in those days, I sure as hell
wasn’t a patriot.”

“I see. I suppose we
all have our own reasons.”

“That’s true. Some of
these other guys bleed those colors. Not me. I only bleed crimson.”

“Understood,” Sullivan
replied.

***

Kaspar grabbed the
Balaclava from atop the desk and then, after folding it, stuck it in the
pockets of his black pants. He zipped up his flak jacket until it was snug
around his chest and midsection. The yellow fabric from Mother’s blanket seemed
to wither away more and more with each passing battle. He wondered when it
would be completely gone as he attached it to the Kevlar.

The sounds of feet
hitting the tile floors outside of the room were swift. Everyone seemed to be
anxious for this battle. As he often did, he wondered if this battle would the
last to fight. He knew that the USR would not be defeated today. They would
merely be given a black eye, at that was the best possible outcome. Kaspar
stopped asking himself if it was worth it or not, but he soon realized that it
didn’t really matter. As long as the USR was in power, the most they could hope
for was a sucker punch, like this one.

The Kriss was now
firmly in his hands. He clutched it tight and held it close to his chest. When
he closed his eyes, he saw Krys’s face. The look in her eyes had already
started to fade, just a little bit, and she was only taken from him a short
while ago. It would only be a matter of time before he would struggle to
remember her exactly as she was. She would then just become a figure in his
memory. He swore when she died that he would keep her alive inside, somehow,
but even Mother was starting fade away in some respects. Mostly from being
distracted by his relationship with Krys. The thought of her beauty fading away
in his memory scared the hell out of him, but it wasn’t like they had taken a
bunch of photos together.

A tap at the door
brought him back to the present. A quick turn revealed that it was Harvey vying
for his attention. Kaspar nodded his head at his leader and gave him a salute.
The leftover saluted back and gave a wink.

“You ready for this
thing?” Harvey wondered.

“I guess we’ll see,”
Kaspar replied. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to make
Clarke your responsibility in there, okay?”

“Sure, but why me?”

“I know you’ll take
care of him. He’s green, so you’ll have to have him on your hip at all times.
He won’t make it without it.”

“You can count on me,
sir.”

“Good man.”

“Sir?” Kaspar asked
just as Harvey prepared to walk out.

“Yeah?” Harvey asked
as he turned back around.

“Do you think he’ll
find anything in there? Robert, I mean.”

“We’ll see. We might
not have time.”

“I just hope he does.”

“Why’s that?” Harvey
asked, confused.

“I just want to know
that this is for something more than just raising a flag.”

Harvey put his head
down then approached Kaspar. Once he got close enough, he placed his hand on
Kaspar’s shoulder. “Trust me…just raising that flag is enough.”

“How so?”

“To everyone out
there, looking for something, anything, to believe in. It will spark the other
resistance factions into action. Even if we all die trying…it won’t be for
nothing. You get me?”

“Yeah,” Kaspar replied
with a sigh. “I think so.”

“Good. We’re meeting
outside in ten minutes.”

***

Harvey found Buck
sitting by himself in one of the barracks. His arms were folded across his
chest, his frowned face pointed straight at the floor. Sudden doubts crept
inside of the old man as he considered letting the boy go after all. If all he
was going to do was mope around, then maybe a little dose of reality would help
him out. However, Harvey knew deep down that keeping him away was the absolute
right thing to do. He would not waiver.

“Son?” Harvey said as
he inched closer.

“What?” Buck demanded.

“I’m sorry that you
can’t go out there tonight.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You have to
understand…”

Buck’s head shot up
and his eyes met square with his father’s. “No, you need to understand. I’m
grown up. I’m old enough to decide what I can and can’t do.”

“You’re not. You only
think that you are. Trust me, you’ll thank me for this someday.”

“Father, please…”

“My decision is final,
Buck. I’ll see you later tonight after the battle.”

“Fine. I hope you make
it out alive.”

His son’s comment hit
him like a sucker punch to the heart. He “hoped” his own father made it out
alive? Did the fact that he was trying to keep him out of danger really bother
him to that point? No matter, the decision was final, and no amount of sulking
or hurtful comments would change that.

“Son…”

Buck turned at his
father’s voice. Once again, Harvey couldn’t get out what he truly wanted to
say.