Read Online The Minus Faction, Episode One: Breakout by Rick Wayne - Free Book Online

She don't know what a loser her da--"
    "STOP!" John yelled. He was still a big man with big lungs and a strong heart. The noise bounced off the walls. There was silence across the floor.
    Gabriel rubbed the gun barrel back and forth across his forehead. The metal was wet from sweat and tears. It shook.
    "Just . . . Stop." John leaned in. He could see the safety was off. The gun was live.
    Gabriel shook his head. He wrapped a finger around the trigger. "Just go," he breathed.
    Captain Regent picked up the paper and held it in front of Gabe's eyes. "You think there's any other man on this earth who's ever gonna care so much for this little girl that he'd give his own life for her? Huh?"
    Gabriel Gonzales took slow, heaving breaths. He closed his eyes. He couldn't look. He hadn't thought about that. He ran the barrel back and forth across his lips then up to the tip of his nose and down.
    He hadn't thought about that.
    "You know, wherever you think it comes from—God, Allah, the universe, whatever—you've been given a chance, man. Same as the rest of us. A chance to count . Most folks don't take that chance because most folks don't take chances." Regent tapped on the picture with twisted, shriveled fingers. "You gotta decide what a chance to count looks like. Something in a movie? Or maybe something like this right here."
    Gabe started to cry again, then stopped, then started a third time. "Why you doin' this, Cap? Huh?" He dribbled and sucked his words. "Why you care so much about some fuck-up enlisted?"
    Regent nodded. It was a fair question. "Set the gun down and I'll tell you."
    Gabriel looked at his weapon. He took a breath and set it on the counter. He rested his hand on top.
    At least it was a step in the right direction. "You know," John exhaled. This would be tough. He didn't like talking about his friend Danny. Not after what had happened. "I was in Bangladesh once, long time ago. We were chasing some guys. Real bad fuckers. Kept their women in a compound like slaves. Not that our guys cared. We were just after some rogue bioweapon. They wouldn't tell us what it was, just that no matter what, the case had to stay sealed or goodbye civilization.
    "Somehow I get on the rooftops of this shantytown kinda thing, and I'm chasing this guy. Fucker was fast . I thought I read him good, squirrely scientist type, feels he's too smart to play by the rules, feels the world owes him 'cuz he's so awesome. Only now he's terrified. To your enemy, you're always the bad guy, right? And here we were coming for him.
    "I knew he had a pistol, but for guys like that, it's a safety blanket more than anything. I knew weapons. I'd been trained. I had experience. I knew you can't be afraid. So I kept after him, jumping across gaps, making sure not to look down, keeping my eye on the target. Only I couldn't because there was all this laundry."
    "Laundry?"
    John chuckled and nodded. "Hanging out on the roof to dry, right? They don't have room for dryers and shit there. All these different colors, sequins and stuff on it. Millions of lives on the line and I'm fighting laundry for a clear shot.
    "Anyway, I bust through some robes or sheets or something and POW. Turns out the bastard had run out of roof. I had read him good. He was just like I thought—as long as he could keep running. But once he faced that dead end, there was a moment of desperation.
    "People do some crazy shit when they're desperate." He looked Gabe in the eye. "Stuff that don't make no damn sense. It's panic.
    "I thought I was done. Game over. But my friend Danny had come up on flank. He'd got up to the roof just in time to give me a little shove. Saved my life.
    "Without that little shove, I woulda taken one right in the face." John tapped his cheek with two fingers. "Boom. DOA. Something like that happens, you get to thinking a lot about life, death, and all that, and I realized . . . We all like to think we are who we are because of the shit we've done or the choices we've