Free Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1) by Brian Cotton Page B

He tried with everything
in him to come up with one, just one, justification for her death. Nothing came
to mind.
    Sullivan turned at the sound of the door opening behind him.
Fitzpatrick strode in and eased the door shut. He had a stack of manila folders
in his left arm and he walked over to his desk. Fitzpatrick sat the folders in
a neat stack on top. He pulled the expensive leather chair back, sat down, and
took in a deep breath.
    “That was a good job today,” Fitzpatrick said. “You did me and the
department proud.”
    Sullivan replied, “Thank you, sir.”
    “Why you thanking him?” Mason demanded.
    Fitzpatrick leaned forward. “What are you talking about, Mason?”
    “Mr. Sully had a crisis of conscience out there today.”
    “Will, what is he saying?”
    “I wanted to bring her in for questioning.” Sullivan replied.
“Maybe get some valuable Intel from her.” He turned to Mason and looked square
in his eyes. “But these two gunslingers you sent me with couldn’t hold it long
enough.”
    Wilcox butted in, “That’s our job, sir. To eliminate the
resistance. Dead to the last man…or woman.”
    “An old woman. Who posed no threat whatsoever to us. We
didn’t even find anything in there, did we? We sure as hell can’t question her
now.” Sullivan said.
    “She must have sent all her letters out.” Mason chimed in with a
grin.
    Fitzpatrick leaned back in his chair. “Were you able to find
anything? Please tell me this operation had some merit.”
    “No, sir,” Sullivan replied. “We found some knitting projects. She
could’ve poked Wilcox to death with one of those plastic things.”
    “Fuck you, Sully…”
    “Enough!” Fitzpatrick cried out. “We wasted a lot of good time out
there today. Mason, Wilcox, you two sons of bitches need to cool your trigger
fingers.”
    Mason cleared his throat, “Maybe Sully over here should stop being
a pussy.”
    “Listen, you…” Sullivan said.
    “No, you listen!” Mason shouted with a red face. “You could have
gotten us killed today. Yeah, she only had a knitting needle, but what if she
was packing? Wilcox would be dead for sure. Me, too. Only you and that woman
would’ve made it out alive.”
    “What the hell?” Sullivan replied.
    “She would have spared you, because you are working for them.”
    Fitzpatrick held up his hand. “Whoa, whoa, you know how we feel
about making such accusations around here.”
    “Just speculating,” Mason replied. He stood and pointed his index finger
in Sullivan’s face. “You put my life at risk again and I’ll bury you.”
    Sullivan stood as well. Mason crossed the line. It was one thing
to kill a leftover in cold blood with no evidence. It was another to bring
Sullivan into it, and in the process, putting his family at risk. He balled his
fists and fought back every urge to slug Mason. His face grew red and his
breathing heavy.
    “That’s quite an accusation,” Sullivan said through gritted teeth.
“You have any proof?”
    Wilcox moved in from behind. “Plenty. You didn’t want us killing
one of your own people. I get it. You hide behind that badge and feed secrets
to them. Think about it.”
    Sullivan’s heart rate increased with the reddening of his face. He
felt surrounded and his self-defense instincts started to kick in. He could
feel Wilcox’s hot breath against the back of his neck. Mason just stood in
front of him, not wavered by Sullivan’s standing up to him.
    “Enough,” Fitzpatrick called from behind his desk. “Mason, Wilcox
step outside.”
    “But, sir…” Mason said; his gaze still on Sullivan.
    “Get out now!”
    Wilcox’s eyes met Sullivan’s as he walked from behind. He grabbed
the gold door handle and exited first. Mason gave another point at Sullivan
before he followed his ass mate outside. He slammed the door shut behind him.
Sullivan wondered how the glass stayed intact.
    “You don’t believe him, do you?” Sullivan asked. He sat back down
in his