Anatomy of a Rebellion

Chapter 14

Fate

Autumn had hit hard and suddenly; most wouldn't dare go outside without at least a light jacket. It was much worse at night, where it felt as though winter was just around the bend. There was still not a single sign of rain approaching, and the fear of a prolonged drought mixed harshly with the cool weather. All of Union shivered as they braced for a disastrous winter season.

Freddie felt the depression in the air much more than he felt the change in temperature. He was keen to the attitude of groups, and it seemed as though small towns exhibited their feelings much more than large cities. He watched Percy to see if the Major would change in response to the obvious dread that the civilians displayed. There was nothing. He wasn't even sure if Percy was aware of it. Such a lack of awareness to feelings matched with the Major's personality, but it did not match with his strategic mind.

However, the nonsense of the town was of little worry to Freddie. He had other, personal problems to focus on. With Huck away on a mission, he was alone in a strange place and with more enemies than allies. Yet he had no one to blame but himself for this and he knew that. With strong anticipation that something drastic was about to happen, he had no choice but to send his best out to prevent any calamity against human rights before it actually happened.

A loud sigh escaped his lips. Beside him, James Goldwin casted a quick glance. The Army Lieutenant wondered if terrorists ever stressed. Had any citizens ever sat and actually thought about what goes through a mind like Freddie's? Most discarded them as madmen, unable to properly formulate a logical sequence of thought. Yet they had spent a fair amount of time since their faithful meeting under the streetlamps together, and Goldwin was convinced Freddie was too smart.

Just like the night they first met, the two men wandered under Union's streetlamps. Neither had any friends in town, so they had visited Tom's Tavern. There, they began a conversation about the war in Europe and it had transformed over the course of several drinks. Since they had left, not a single word was uttered between the two of them. There wasn't even a set destination. Silently they both wondered if the other was even aware they were still together.

Freddie passed a glance over his shoulder, positive someone was out to kill him. It was not an unfound paranoia as he was a wanted man and had created many enemies. He was fated to run from death; a stark difference compared to the man beside him. Goldwin had rushed towards death eagerly when he was still a cadet.

They were both marked by war and the cruel world they were forced to grow up in. For Freddie, he was reminded of his past by a bullet wound in his abdomen, a memory of a time when he was left to die and drown in his own blood. His wrists were slashed and hidden behind long sleeves, just a keepsake from when he was fourteen; bound and captive, his torturers tried to stage a suicide. Diligently, he persevered and had grown accustomed to the memories.

Goldwin's wounds were much more recent and nagging. A large gash on the top of his head had been sewn up with more stitches than he could count; the hair would never grow there again and he tried to cover it with his hat. His left arm had been bolted back together and it was miracle it moved at all. At one time, he was a sharpshooter – the best in his class. But now he could barely see fifteen yards and was nearly blind at night. Trust was no longer handed out and earning it was a difficult thing to do. He never felt safe, not even when he slept.

Finally, the silence was broken when Freddie said, "I feel as though this world is mere inches from disaster."

Goldwin responded with a raised brow. "A bold prediction, but I expect such things from men of your status. If you thought we were decades from disaster, you would never act and you would never be known."

"They call us paranoid terrorists," Freddie said. "But one day they will call us dreamers - visionaries."

"Another bold prediction," Goldwin said with a playful smile. Freddie could only answer with a faint laugh. It was an arrogant thing to say, but if they weren't cocky they would never achieve their goals. The joking ceased when Freddie suddenly halted. He c****d his head and squinted his eyes. "What is it?" Goldwin asked.

"Did you hear that?" he said in a hushed voice. Goldwin strained his ears but heard nothing. After a few moments of silence, Freddie was beginning to doubt he heard anything.

"Stop!"

It was a strained gasp for air more than a friendly call. Quickly they both twisted and turned. They rushed across the street and took a sharp turn into an alleyway. About twenty feet from the sidewalk was a group of people. A silhouette jabbed his fist into another man relentlessly until the body slumped over and was discarded. The reflection off of a knife blade found their eyes. Goldwin kept his pace and sprinted toward them; Freddie slammed on the brakes once his mind registered danger.

In an instant, Freddie took in the situation. There was one man lying on the ground motionless; three other men hovered around a woman; the knife was pressed against her throat. At about the time he realized she was under attack, Goldwin reached the man who held the knife. The Lieutenant wasted no time; he forced the man's arm to twist awkwardly, which resulted in a loud crack.

The man yelped, surprised at how much pain he felt. The knife was discarded. As Goldwin pulled his fist back to punch the man in the gut, the other attackers realized he was a soldier. The one closest to him reached for Goldwin's pistol. It got caught in the holster and the man struggled to gain control of it.

Freddie was moving again, but slowly. The third man finally spotted him. Afraid that Freddie was also a soldier and unable to make out his form because of the darkness, he turned to run.

The fight for Goldwin's pistol became more violent. Goldwin tried to shove the man away with one hand while the other kept the knife wielder in check. He opted to ignoring the man fiddling with the gun; even if he could remove it from the holster, there was no guarantee he could fire it. Instead, he twisted the already cracked wrist more. As the man started to fall to his knees, Goldwin landed a strong punch on his ribcage.

Goldwin went back to his holster. He grabbed the man's hand, but in the process of doing so, the gun fired.

The sound of the gunfire caused the third attacker to halt his attempt to flee and duck in defense. It also startled Freddie, who reached behind his vest and pulled out his own gun. Instinctively he fired two shots in quick succession. Both shots hit the fleeing man, who dropped to the ground instantly.

With his two buddies on the ground in serious pain, the last man quit his fight for the pistol. He threw his arms in the air and winced, just in case Freddie tried to shoot. The barrel of Freddie's gun was pointed directly at him. Freddie was shaking terribly, but so was everyone else.

"Captain!" Goldwin yelped once he realized who the woman was. Freddie passed a quick glance over to her; he was unable to view her condition because Goldwin blocked his view. His eyes jumped back to the attacker instantly, just in case he tried to move.

"I'm fine," she squeezed out. "Is Jimmy alright?"

Whoever "Jimmy" was, Freddie assumed it was man who yelled for Goldwin. Again his eyes darted away from the attacker. He spotted a man in uniform surrounded by a pool of blood, motionless. Back to the attacker his eyes went. The man shook terribly; he refused to open his eyes and face Freddie head on.

Something inside Freddie snapped and he yelled, "You f*****g scum!" The sudden outburst startled everyone. His grip tightened on the pistol he threatened to fire. "You take a man's life, yet you cower when your own is threatened!"

The man violently shook his head. "No, sir!" he shouted back. The fear in his voice was evident. "I'm an honest, Christian man, I promise! I didn't know anyone was going to be killed! I'm sorry!"

As the man openly wept, Freddie had to bite his tongue. Goldwin offered his softest voice to Mackenzie when he said, "Don't worry about the Sergeant, Captain. Are you sure you're alright?" His cold hand touched a knife wound and she winced at the contact. It was then that he realized her body was covered in cuts, which ranged from small scratches to a few that would probably need stitches. "Do you need a doctor?" he asked. It was a formality; she would see one regardless.

Afraid her voice would betray her emotions, she simply nodded. Finally, Goldwin moved from her when he stood and reached for his radio. "I need a medic team to my location. I repeat, medic team to my location," he ordered.

"Turn your damn transponder on so we can find you," a voice murmured back. "Never mind, I see it's on."

Goldwin went to check on the others who littered the alleyway. Freddie felt comfortable enough to look at Mackenzie long enough to asses her condition. She had collapsed to the ground onto her knees; blood was smeared across her face, neck and arms. Her uniform had been ripped and her left arm was limp at her side and probably dislocated.

Something grabbed Freddie's hand. He looked to see who had snuck up on him. It was Goldwin. The Lieutenant smiled at his elder and said, "It's alright. I don't think they're going anywhere." Freddie brought his attention back to the attacker and saw that he was still sobbing. Slowly, Freddie lowered his pistol but he did not put it away. Goldwin observed, "I can tell you've killed before, but it's been a long time since you last did."

"Yeah," was all Freddie said in response.

Goldwin moved away from the terrorist. As he knelt down next to the dead Sergeant he said, "I'm lucky. I haven't had to kill anyone yet. But I've seen a lot of death."

Freddie said, "That's the reality of the world at this moment. Everyone, everywhere, experiences a lot of death."

Such a true and depressing observation sent the alleyway group into silence. The only noise they heard was the sobs of the uninjured attacker. It was a chance for both Freddie and Goldwin to try and calm their hearts down. Even though they had control over the situation from the beginning, there was still two dead and two injured. They blanked their minds and refused to dwell on it.

The medic team that Goldwin called arrived within minutes and broke the awkward silence. Two Humvees pulled up to the alleyway. The first person to step out was the Major himself, followed by Sergeant Barton. Percy observed the scene from a distance. He watched as the medic team rushed towards everyone on the ground. They made their rounds fast.

Barton barreled toward Goldwin when he realized a man in uniform was on the ground. He didn't salute the Lieutenant and refused to acknowledge him altogether. It wasn't out of disrespect; rather, it was because of the fear that grabbed his chest when he realized one of his friends was injured. That fear was replaced by something deeper when he saw it was Patterson.

"Oh, f**k!" he cursed. The medic team began to block out Barton's voice. They were too used to hearing these kinds of rants. "Jesus Jimmy!" he shouted once more. His hand reached down and placed itself on one of the many wounds that adorned Patterson's abdomen. Frantically, he tried to stop the bleeding. In the back of his mind, he knew that his friend was dead, but his body still acted out to save him.

"Sergeant…" Goldwin whispered. He didn't have the courage to raise his voice and order the man to calm down.

Percy managed to remain emotionless. He ignored the scene Barton created. Instead, his attention went to the man who remained crying loudly, uninjured. Percy crouched in front of the attacker and waited for his presence to catch the man's attention. When it finally did, Percy smiled and said, "I don't know what you're crying for. Are you alright?" It just made the man sob harder. The Major realized how frightened the man was. He reached out and rustled the man's hair like he was a young child. Something about the Major's expression and his strange action frightened the man into silence.

After that, he stood and dropped his smile. His attention was turned to his adjutant. Two medics tended to her wounds. She responded calmly to their questions, just as he expected from her. Unlike with the attacker, he did not crouch in front of her. He remained standing when he said, "What did they do to you?"

She made eye contact with him; his eyes were scowling. She knew the expression was about the situation and he didn't mean to direct such a look at her. Her eyes closed and she didn't answer. There was no need to look at him. The tone of his voice when he spoke next said everything. He shouted, "How could you have been overpowered by three street thugs?! Now I have this mess to clean up and explain!"

"I apologize, Major," was her only response.

He nearly opened his mouth to shout more, but he caught himself. The result was a, "Tch." His voice lowered in volume when he said, "Either way, I hope you're alright. If they did anything inappropriate…" He never finished his sentence. She opened her eyes to make sure he was still there. He was; his eyes were diverted from her and focused down the alleyway. He tried his best to not think anything indecent.

She said, "I'm fine, Major. Regardless of what their intentions were, the Lieutenant arrived before anything could happen."

Percy casted a side glance at her. "You're not just saying that, right?" he asked. "You can be honest with me."

His behavior caused her to smile. "I never lie to you," she said.

He shouted, "Of course, not! You'd never lie to me. That's why you are my adjutant. Adjutant's don't lie!" His rambling was a sign of his nervousness. He tried his best to not think about the dead Patterson or injured Mackenzie. This eccentric behavior was well known amongst his men, so the medic team largely paid him no mind. Still, his mind was working properly and he suddenly realized, "s**t, how will I explain the dead civilian? Who fired that shot? Lieutenant Goldwin?"

Goldwin heard his voice and looked up. The Major was glaring at him. He turned away and pretended to not hear his name. Freddie stepped in and said, "No, Percy. I'm the one who killed him."

Goldwin let out a sigh of relief. His gun had been fired, so it would have been easy for him to get the blame for the killing of a civilian. He was happy Freddie was an honest man. Percy, however, wasn't that excited about it. "How could you have killed him?" Percy questioned. "An Army officer's pistol can only be fired by the soldier it was issued to. Unless Goldwin's hand was gripping that pistol, it couldn't have fired."

Freddie explained, "I didn't use Goldwin's gun. I used my own. Have you forgotten already that I carry one?"

Percy had to strain his memory, all the way back to the first time he saw Freddie. He vaguely remembered him pointing a pistol at Wallace. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "I didn't know it was a real! How could you have a real pistol? They're illegal! Apprehend him!"

Freddie was so shocked to have the Major's finger pointed directly into his face that he didn't react when two medics grabbed him. "Are… are you serious?!" he shouted. Before anyone responded, something was stuck into his arm. He panicked; was it a tranquilizer?

The medic pulled the needle back and checked a device with him. He looked confused when he said, "There's no data on him!"

"That's impossible! Check his fingerprints!" the other shouted.

They forced something into Freddie's hand. His heart began to race; he felt afraid and betrayed. Percy was turning on him, just because he had acted to protect Mackenzie. He would have been furious if he wasn't frightened. The medic on his right sounded surprised when he said, "There's no data on his fingerprints, either!"

"How could he be in America without any data on him?" the other questioned. "Something must be wrong with our reader!"

"I'll check his eyes!"

Another medic arrived and grabbed Freddie's face. He felt suffocated with so many people grabbing at him, but he still refused to fight. If he did, there was too high of a chance that he would end up hurt or killed. He did not want to make enemies with Percy. So he consented to the third medic when he shoved a scanner centimeters from Freddie's eye.

He heard a "ding!" to his right. The medic made noise of surprise. "Look at this! I have a record! But it's on a thirteen year old boy, this can't be right!"

"Let me see that!" the third medic shouted. A small electronic pad was handed to him. He was unable to hide his shock. "Henry Flowerdew? The son of Duke Flowerdew! Oh, s**t! This reading will get back to the HQ in no time!"

"What does that mean?" Freddie asked.

"Henry Flowerdew and the entire Duke of Edinburgh's family went missing on American soil," the medic explained. "It was an international incident. How did you get his eyes?!"

"Let him go. We have other things to worry about." Percy ordered. The medics didn't hesitate.

"But, Major, we'll have an entire brigade in Union within a day if we don't do something!" the third medic said. It was obvious he was the current one in charge of the team. "How do we explain we let a grown man carrying Henry Flowerdew's eyes walk away? We'll all be court martialed!"

"I don't give a damn!" Percy screamed. The medic involuntarily backed up a pace. "To hell with some European noble, I have my own country and men to take care of! We just lost a well-respected Sergeant, court-martial is the last thing you need to worry about!"

"Yes, Major!" the medics chimed in unison. They were a bit shocked at his sudden retraction of his own order to apprehend Freddie.

"Lieutenant!"

Goldwin shot up like a rocket and produced the sharpest salute he had ever managed in his life. "Major!" he barked back.

"Get the squad leaders together within twenty minutes. And Patterson's men. We'll have to rearrange the Company and prepare them. Do you understand?"

Goldwin's body loosened, but his facial features did not. "Yes, Major," he said.