Chapter .22
The USR won another victory in their war on terror today, as two members of the resistance were brought to justice in their apartment. Three of the USR’s finest took part in the raid, though the USR, per government policy, will not release the names of the Agents. Consul Williamson had this to say, however:
“What happened today was another victory for our great society. I don’t know how many times I have to come up here and warn the resistance that they will be found and executed. It’s unfortunate that these two young people, however foolish they may be, had to succumb to their fates in this way, but…”
Kaspar fired three rounds from his Beretta 92. He peered at the paper target in front to see how accurate he was this time. One of the rounds hit the target just below the stomach, the other two missed. He grimaced, slumped his shoulders, and shook his head. Paxton hadn’t told the others yet, but Kaspar knew that there was a mission to come very soon, and he had to be sharp out there. At least he hit one out of the three, but that wouldn’t do. The Agent would still be alive to blow Kaspar’s brains out while his guts spilled to the floor. Kaspar aimed his weapon again and prepared to fire.
“Whatcha up to?” Krys’s voice off in the distance asked.
He looked behind him and there she was; his tormentor from earlier in the day. The sun began its descent behind her as she walked closer. While she did, Kaspar tried hard to figure this woman out. She seemed to have split personalities that could be switched on command. He had already seen Krys kill without hesitation, but somehow he could tell that she was not a killer by nature.
“Practice,” Kaspar said, “if you don’t mind.”
“Knock yourself out.” Krys replied, she held a P99 in her right hand.
Kaspar turned his attention to the target in front of him once more. He fired three more rounds into it. The shots to the chest were missed, but he managed to hit it in the gut twice. The shot to the head went wide left. He cursed and heard three shots fired in quick succession beside him. He peered over to Krys’s target sheet.
“Is that what you’re trying to do?” she asked. Two shots hit the chest, the final at the top of the head.
“Yes.” Kaspar replied.
“Try again.”
He breathed in and focused on nothing but the target in front. His hands kept steady, his opened eye in sync down the sight. He pulled twice, then moved the gun up and fired once at the head. Kaspar lowered his weapon and looked at the results.
“Son of a bitch.” Kaspar said. He placed the gun on the table then leaned forward with both arms.
“Don’t let it get you down,” Krys said. “You think I learned to do that overnight?”
“I’ve got to get this down, otherwise how am I ever going to…”
“Listen, man, you just need to relax.”
“Relax? You expect me to relax while my mother’s killers are running free out there?”
Kaspar picked up the gun and fired three more times, his aim less careful. He nailed the two shots to the chest, but once again missed the head shot.
“Well,” Krys said, “at least he’ll suffer a bit before he goes.”
“That’s very funny.”
“I know it is. Get that stick out of your ass.”
“Ha.”
“You’ve been out here a long time,” Krys said. She placed her gun on the table and motioned towards the house with her head. “Why not take a breather?”
Kaspar followed Krys towards the back porch without a reply. The woman took a seat on one of the wooden steps. When Kaspar took his seat next to her he made sure not to sit too close so she wouldn’t invade his personal space. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit up. He took a drag. Next to him, Krys made a fanning motion with her hand in front of her nose.
“Why do you do that?” she asked.
Kaspar took another drag, “What?”
“That.”
“I don’t know.”
He looked down at the burning end of the cigarette before he dragged on it again. The smoke caused him to feel light headed; the nicotine cured the craving that grew more intense each day. He looked up at the setting sun which created a palette of orange, red, and dark blue.
“Beautiful…” Krys said as she stared off in wonder.
“Sure is,” Kaspar replied in between drags.
“Not much of a talker are you?”
“Not much.”
Krys looked over at Kaspar and smiled. “But, you are a real pain in the ass.”
“I guess…” Kaspar started to say, his speech interrupted by a cough.
“Not much fun is it?”
“We’re all gonna die, right? Might as well enjoy the little things.” He held the cigarette high.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Kaspar peered into her eyes, “School me.”
“The little things are…like that.” Krys pointed out towards the setting sun. “Not killing yourself.”
“Yeah, well, keep your judgments to yourself.”
“You know, wanting to help you out is not judging.”
The two sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. His smoke had long since been over and the sun completed its descent to the bottom of the sky. Kaspar looked over at Krys who just stared off into the sky.
“You okay?” Kaspar asked.
“Hmm?” Krys replied.
“I don’t know, you just look like you’re deep in thought, I guess.”
“I was…just thinking…” Krys said and laughed, “Talk about redundancy, right?”
Kaspar let out a laugh. His eyes stared deep into her brown eyes. He felt something force him to look away. He reached into his pocket for another cigarette, but felt the woman’s hand over top his. Why did she care?
“Come on, can’t it wait?” Krys asked.
“Sure, I guess it could.”
“Good. So, how was your day?”
“What do you mean?” Kaspar asked.
“What I said.”
“It was okay, I guess. You know, got to meet some people…Greg says ‘hi’ by the way.”
Krys rolled her eyes, “Tell me about it, that guy’s had his eye on me for a while.”
“Both eyes, probably.”
Krys let out a fake giggle and said, “How are you holding up? Everything going well?”
“Everything except for the complete boredom.”
“Don’t worry soldier,” Krys said. She gave a playful punch to Kaspar’s arm. “You’ll be fightin’ in no time.”
Krys straightened her back and stretched her upper body forward. Her black tee scooted up as she did and Kaspar caught a glimpse of the bottom of the tattoo. He stared at it and tried to figure out…
“See something you like?” Krys asked with a wry smile.
“That tattoo,” Kaspar said. His eyes met Krys’s again, “It’s…nice.”
“Nice? Ha-ha, nice?”
“Yeah, nice.”
“Can’t you think of another word, I don’t know…”
“Beautiful?”
She was taken aback. “Something like that.”
“What does it mean?”
“Well,” Krys smiled, “you know how roses represent love and everything? Well, this rose is dying—“
Kaspar interrupted with a laugh, “I’d like to meet the son of a bitch that broke your heart.”
“Not like that, think higher, like the world. There’s no love left, not that I can see anyway.”
“Who did it for you?”
“Ron, he’s really good. All those tats on his arms? He did those himself, too. I’ve got another one.”
“Where? Let me see.” Kaspar said.
“I’m not letting you look there…”
Kaspar could feel his face burn while Krys just laughed. She lifted up her shirt almost over her head. She turned her back to
wards him and he saw the white…bird tattooed on her shoulder. The wings were spread out wide with blood splatter here and there on the body.
“A bloody pigeon?” Kaspar asked.
“A dove…it represents purity, you know? I told Ron to add the blood splatters to contrast the life I’m forced to live now. I got it made the first time I killed a man.” Krys replied. She let the shirt down.
“When was that?”
“Right after I first joined up…I shot a man and stared into his dying eyes right before he passed.”
“How’d you deal with it?” Kaspar wondered.
“I can’t get his face out of my head, that’s how. His eyes, they were so filled with fear and…I’m sorry, I just can’t talk about it.”
“You are awful hard on yourself, you know that?”
“Yeah, well, I’ve killed people.”
“They would’ve just done the same to you.”
Krys squinted her eyes, “Not everyone wants to kill somebody, you ever think about that?”
Kaspar rubbed at the stubble of his chin, “What are you doing here, then?”
“I fight for those people you saw at the park today. People like your mother, who are killed for no reason. You really loved her, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did,” Kaspar said. He fought hard against the lump that began to form in his throat. “She was the only person who…my father, he didn’t give a shit about us, just took off and left.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“So,” Kaspar said in desperate need to change the subject. “These people you kill. What about them?”
“It’s necessary,” Krys replied. “But, that doesn’t mean I have to feel good about it.”
“They are the enemy.”
“But, they are still human beings. A lot of those Agents out there only do it because it’s a paycheck to put food on the table.”
“That’s not an excuse. Don’t make excuses for them…they are a part of a criminal organization that murders innocent people…”
Krys interrupted, “So what about you, then? You just here for the kill? Hunt down those men who killed your mother and return the favor, right? That all you care about?”
“Fucking A.”
“I see, well, I’m sure you’ll get your chance.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, it seems like nobody has any clue as to what happened other than she’s dead.”
“All the same, I hope you get what you’re looking for.” Krys said. She stood and headed for the door.
“Have a good one.” Kaspar said with his back to her.
“You too,” Krys said. The door creaked when she opened it. “And, quit smoking.”
The door slammed behind him as Kaspar flicked the Zippo to light another one. He sat there staring off into the distance while he smoked. His thoughts went back to that hut. How joyful they were at the sight of something as simple as bread. Was Mother’s life worth more than theirs? He went in for another drag…
“Hey, Kas,” Ron’s deep voice called from the patio door.
“Yeah?” Kaspar asked, he turned his body around.
“Boss needs us now.”