“Enough of this bullshit!” Kaspar yelled from the couch.
He charged at Danny from behind. Kilbourne saw him. He reached out and grabbed Kaspar by the arm with his strong hands. Kaspar could feel adrenaline flow throughout his entire body. It allowed him to break free. With a clinched right fist, he landed a sharp hook to Danny’s cheek. That same right hook that Danny taught him how to harness in what seemed like a lifetime ago. The force of the blow caused the old man to spit out his cigarette. Kaspar reached back for another, but his arm became entangled with Kilbourne’s.
“Did you give up my mother?” Kaspar demanded. Tears flowed down his red cheeks.
“Yes, of course I did.” Danny replied.
“You son of a…”
“You should blame yourself for that one, my boy.”
“The hell I should!”
“I knew you would not join this rebellion without…extra incentive.” Danny said.
“What are you talking about?” Kaspar asked. He dropped his hands to his side, fists still clinched together.
“You’re a selfish person. You never cared about what was going on around you. The only thing you ever cared about was proving something to your old man. I knew that, for you, something would have to be taken away…”
“Don’t you dare try and bring her death down on me.”
“If you had been a good boy, she’d still be around.”
In a fit of rage, Kaspar yanked the Beretta from his thigh holster. He held the barrel to the side of Danny’s head. He felt something then. It felt like cold steel. Kaspar looked to his right. Paxton had the barrel of his Glock resting on the side of Kaspar’s head. He didn’t care, though. All he needed was a fraction of a second. If his trigger finger, in this case, was faster…
“Ryan!” Paxton ordered. “Back off!”
“To hell with you and your orders.”
“I mean it. I’m not screwing around with you this time. I will put you under.”
The smile that crept on Danny’s face made the itch to pull the trigger that much stronger. Paxton pulled the hammer of his pistol back. Reason finally sank in and Kaspar lowered his weapon. Dying now wouldn’t solve anything. After all, Danny was only partly responsible for Mother. The real killers were still out there. If Forte was of any evidence, there could still be some measure of revenge to be had…once the interrogation was finished.
Kaspar pointed his index finger. “You piece of shit.”
“We need answers,” Paxton said as Kaspar turned to walk away. “You did the right thing.”
“Answers, answers, answers,” Danny said. He fished out another cigarette. “You want some real answers, Ryan?”
The question had its desired effect. Kaspar turned and faced Danny, who was busy lighting a cigarette. He took a drag but didn’t say anything. Kaspar approached once more. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. He ripped the still burning cigarette out of Danny’s mouth.
“What answers?” he demanded.
“How about this: who killed you mother?” Danny replied.
“Who?”
Danny said nothing. He leaned back and smiled again. Kaspar inched the burning end of the cigarette closer to his face.
“Who?!” he demanded once more.
“Their names are: George Mason, DeMarcus Wilcox, and…what that third guy’s name? Oh, yes, William Sullivan. They ran the operation that led to your mother’s death. I don’t know who exactly pulled the trigger, but those are the three monsters you’ve been searching for.”
The tears flowed free. Kaspar used his gloved hands to wipe the tears away. He engraved those names in his memory. Wilcox. Mason. Sullivan. Those three names…they were the only things that gave his life any meaning now. He walked for the front door. He felt a soft hand grip his shoulder. He turned and faced Krys.
“Ryan, wait.” Krys pleaded.
“I’ve waited long enough.” Kaspar replied.
He shrugged the woman’s hand off of his shoulder. Before he walked out, Kaspar got one last look at Danny. Danny smiled. If his smile was an attempt to enrage Kaspar further, he succeeded. Nothing but burning anger could be felt inside. He walked off the porch then reached for his cigarettes. He grabbed one and lit it. Footsteps were heard behind him.
“Ryan, please wait!” Krys called out.
Kaspar didn’t turn. He paused to give her a chance to walk beside him. She gripped his arm again. Kaspar used his free hand to take a drag. Why did she want him to stay so bad? She knew that the only thing he had been living for was revenge. He knew now who he had to deliver justice to. He weighed in on the other option available to him. Which would be to stick around, maybe get killed during one Paxton’s missions? All the while being used by the USR; not knowing who to trust. He looked down at Mother’s fabric and his decision was made.
“She wanted me to make something of myself.” Kaspar said, breaking the silence. “Every day she kept telling me to make something more out of my life.”
“You still can,” Krys replied. “Stay with us. Those three will get what’s coming to them.”
Those brown eyes of hers always told the full story. Kaspar could read Krys like an open book. He could see the concern she felt for him right now. He just couldn’t understand why. He took a drag then looked away.
“This whole time, I’ve thought of nothing but myself.” Kaspar said.
“You can change all of that.”
“I can’t let those men go free. I can’t leave it up to chance. I have to make things right.”
“You’ll catch up to them eventually.”
“That’s not going to cut it for me.” Kaspar turned and stared straight into her eyes. “I’m going after them now.”
“I get it,” Krys replied, the look of concern replaced by one of frustration. “To hell with everyone else, right?”
“I cannot live with myself until those…dogs are put down.”
“You’re impossible. So, go on, then. What’s holding you back? Certainly not me or those suffering people out there.”
He watched as Krys turned her back to him. His mind and heart raced. The right thing to do all of a sudden became muddled. The only thing that was clear as day was that he had only two choices, and he needed to choose one now. Kaspar looked down at the yellow fabric on his flak jacket. Mother was taken and for what? So that her son could be recruited into a rebellion only to be used by the same USR that took her?
Kaspar closed his eyes and looked to the sky. He tried meditating again, concentrating only on his breathing.
With eyes still closed, he asked Mother what he should do.