The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6) (12 page)

The wave of protestors left them behind. Aaron and Norbert were surrounded by moaning and unconscious bodies. Tawni didn't see any critical injuries though.

"Move!" Aaron yelled. "Back to the van!"

He and his team ran towards the parking garage. Tawni glanced back. The confrontation between the police and the protestors had turned into a full scale riot.

More patrol cars were arriving from the north and west. A few officers were riding on horses or bicycles. It seemed like sirens were everywhere.

Aaron picked up the pace, and Tawni had a hard time keeping up. Her body armor felt like it was made of lead. She was soon gasping for breath. The rest of the team was obviously in much better condition than her. Even the boy was running quickly without apparent effort.

They turned onto East Adams. Tawni's legs were so tired she almost tripped and fell.

"Stop!" she pleaded. "Please!"

Aaron looked back. "Get in the coffee shop."

The team hurried into a nearby coffee shop. Tawni was so winded she couldn't even speak, and everybody else just stood and watched her. She wasn't accustomed to thinking of herself as the weak and slow member of the team. She hated the feeling.

"Your training will include a lot of aerobics," Aaron said.

She nodded. It was hard to argue with him under the circumstances.

All the customers in the coffee shop were standing by the windows. He joined them and looked out at the street. Norbert hovered over Wesley like a father protecting his son. Despite everything, Tawni was starting to like the man. His round face was pleasant to look at, and his compassion seemed sincere.

Aaron stepped away from the crowd and took out his gray phone. He made a call.

"What's the deal with the phones?" Tawni asked Norbert. "Why are they so big?"

"You'll get one just like it. They're waterproof and armor plated. They work on any network in the world. They have redundant location systems, navigation, and an emergency beacon. The list of features goes on and on."

"How much do they cost?"

Norbert shrugged. "I don't know. A lot, I expect. They're custom built. Of course, you won't have to pay for it."

"Cool. I just wish they weren't so ugly. That reminds me. What's my salary?"

"The Society takes care of its members. If you need something, you'll get it, but we're not actually paid."

She bristled. "Slaves get taken care of. Free people are compensated for their work."

"Have that conversation with Aaron. I'm just telling you how it is."

Aaron came back over. "The roads to the west are clear. Ready to go?"

Tawni nodded. "Where are we going?"

"My headquarters. I'll give you the grand tour and the introduction speech when we get there. I'll try to answer all your questions."

It's about fucking time,
she thought.

Chapter Five

Roger Gains sat in his comfortable chair and watched the news coverage of the riot. It was the finest entertainment he could imagine. Each new scene of destruction made him moan with pleasure.

Everything was going according to plan.

He decided it was dinner time. The riot promised to be a long one, so it made sense to eat while he watched.

He stood up and stretched his arms. Gains' living room was entirely white. The walls, the furniture, the carpet, and the fixtures had no color whatsoever. Special light bulbs cast broad spectrum light that made everything look even whiter. There were no windows, so he didn't have to see the dingy colors of the outside world.

He heard the ventilation system turn on. The air in the room was filtered, cleansed, oxygenated, and recycled. It was a closed system originally designed for use on spacecraft. He had literally breathed the same air for years. There was no possibility of contamination from the outside.

He walked into the kitchen which was just as white as the living room. He opened the large freezer. It contained hundreds of identical white boxes about ten inches square and two inches tall. He grabbed one of the boxes at random and closed the freezer. It didn't matter which one he chose. He put the box in a microwave and set the timer for two minutes.

While he waited, he inspected the kitchen for dirt. The white plastic counters looked pristine. There was no dust, of course. The air in his apartment was clean enough for a microchip factory. He spotted a tiny crack in the paint on the wall. That was going to be a problem. The kitchen would have to be repainted, and then the entire place would have to be sterilized. While that was happening, he would be forced to live in his safe room. He shook his head with annoyance.

He filled a tall glass with water and checked it for cleanliness. Like the air, all the water was recycled. After it left his body, it was filtered, triple distilled, and returned to his body. He didn't want anybody else's water inside him.

The microwave beeped. He took the box out and went back to the living room. There was only one chair. He sat down, placed the food on a small table, and opened the box.

Gains' meal consisted of small bricks of pureed, pasteurized, dried food that were uniform in color and consistency. Eating was an ongoing issue in his life. It was impractical to recycle food, although he had thoroughly investigated the possibility. He settled for eating the minimum amount required to remain healthy.

A speaker was built into the table. A pleasant female voice said, "Mr. Gains, Dr. Rascher just arrived."

Gains smiled a little. "Send him down immediately."

"Yes, sir."

An air-tight glass partition separated the living room into two sections. Gains lived on one side and visitors stood on the other. The glass was bulletproof, of course. Automatic guns were set to kill anybody who touched the surface.

A few minutes later, Dr. Ernie Rascher arrived. Long, white hair covered the back of his head, but the front and top were completely bald. A neatly trimmed mustache still had some brown in it. He was short and a little pudgy. Big ears gave him a slightly goofy appearance, but his green eyes were completely serious. Gains had never seen him smile. He wore an informal brown suit appropriate for an academic man.

"I was just watching the news coverage," Gains said. "Things are going well."

"I have to disagree, sir." Rascher's voice came through an intercom system. "The results are still too uneven. Some subjects are getting too strong a dosage, and some aren't getting enough. Signal degradation continues to be a major issue. We may have to reexamine our choice of delivery mechanism."

Gains shook his head. "That would cost us months. I'm not that patient. There is no good reason to think the existing plan won't succeed after we've come this far. We just have to fine tune the technology a little. You always expect a few bumps in the road with this kind of project."

"Yes, sir. I'll continue my research."

"Would more money help?"

Rascher shrugged. "It might. My biggest problem is test subjects. It's difficult to keep the larder full, so to speak. We can't just grab random people off the streets. We have to find subjects who won't be missed right away, and even in a big city like Chicago, that's difficult. Many experiments require freshly caught subjects. Disposing of the bodies is also troublesome."

"I thought we had an arrangement with the sanitation people," Gains said.

"Yes, but they always want more money. They're greedy and stupid, and I hate dealing with them."

Gains frowned. "I'll look into it."

"Thank you. Are you making any progress on the manufacturing?" Rascher said.

"I found a factory in Singapore that can do the work. I know the owner personally and I trust him. He claims he can build two hundred units a month."

"That doesn't seem like enough. We'll need thousands."

"I can't push too hard. Questions might get asked. We have to make do with what we can get."

"I understand." Rascher nodded. "You're looking a little thin, sir. Have you been eating enough?"

Gains looked down. He wore plain white tights that showed the exact shape of his body. The bones of his hips and ribs were prominent.

"I suppose a few more calories per day wouldn't hurt," he said. "I'm at 1400 now."

"That seems very low to me. I suggest 1800. You'll feel better."

"Too risky. I'll bump it up to 1600."

"I'm sure you know best," Rascher said. "Is that all? I should get back to my facility. I have so much to do."

"Thanks for coming," Gains said. "I know it was a long drive. Too often these days, you're just a voice on the phone. I wanted to congratulate you in person for your excellent work. You should be very proud."

"And thank you for the opportunity to fulfill my dreams. Good bye."

Rascher bowed politely and left.

* * *

Tawni looked up at the Rosemont Tower Hotel. The exterior glass was a shiny brown color that reminded her of a new penny. It seemed about twenty stories tall, but it was hard to tell for sure. The surface was entirely smooth and dark, creating a rectangular box that prevented anybody from peeking inside.

"It's a hotel," she said.

"Looks can be deceiving," Aaron replied. "It's actually a high security fortress."

"You have rooms here?"

"I own it."

She stared at him. "You're shitting me."

"Technically, the Gray Spear Society owns it, but I'm the boss. It's effectively mine." He stopped the van in the middle of the parking lot and stepped out. "You'll drive the rest of the way in. You need to memorize how to get into headquarters safely."

She climbed out the side door and walked around. They were close enough to O'Hare Airport for her to see several airplanes in the sky. She expected this hotel would be a favorite for business travelers.

She sat in the driver's seat which was still warm from Aaron. He went around and took her old spot.

"Follow my instructions precisely," he said. "As we get deeper inside, the security measures become extreme. They're designed to capture or kill intruders. Drive around to the back and go down the ramp."

She believed he was serious.

She found the ramp. It led down to a sliding garage door, which he opened with a clicker. She proceeded into a dark labyrinth of giant pipes and humming machinery. There were several turns she could make but no signs to help her choose a direction.

"Two lefts and then a right," Aaron said. "Go slow but don't stop."

As she drove, she passed mysterious doorways. "It's like a maze down here."

"That's by design."

He directed her through several more turns. She started seeing pipes that looked familiar.

"Are we going in circles?"

"It just seems that way," he said. "See that big wall made of steel on the left? Stop there."

"I've seen twenty walls like that. How do I know which is the right one?"

"You have to memorize the route. Make sure you do. A mistake could be lethal."

She frowned. "You can't just kill intruders. It's against the law."

"Those laws don't apply to us. You have to start addressing me as sir. I'm not going to keep warning you."

"Yes, sir." The word tasted bitter in her mouth. "What if hotel employees come down here?"

"They have maps that show them what areas to stay out of. Most of the basement is fairly safe. It's really just the center section that's dangerous."

"What if they get curious?"

"I have to hope they're not that stupid," Aaron said.

He used his clicker to open the wall. It folded up and slid out of the way automatically. She drove into a small parking lot which contained a good number of vehicles. Some of the larger vans had the names of local companies painted on them. She found a spot for the minivan and parked.

Everybody climbed out including Norbert and Wesley. The air in the basement was warmer and more humid than outside.

"These cars and trucks are ours," Aaron said. "Take one if you need it."

"I can just drive it away?" Tawni said.

"Use common sense. Don't treat them like garbage."

She spotted a low slung, black Corvette that demanded to be driven fast.
I'm taking that one first,
she thought.

They entered a huge service elevator.

Aaron looked up at the ceiling. "Wave to our security chief. Let him see your face. He won't let the elevator go up until he knows who is inside."

Tawni didn't see a camera but followed the instructions anyway.

"Why are you guys so crazy about security?" she said. "Sir."

"God's enemies are always looking for a weakness to exploit."

He pressed a combination of four buttons at the same time and held them. The elevator began to rise swiftly.

"The bottom twenty floors are for hotel guests. The twenty-second floor is the secret location of headquarters."

"What's on the twenty-first floor?" she said.

"Death," he replied flatly. "It's the last line of defense."

She frowned. These people talked about death a lot.

The elevator doors opened. Everybody walked into a chamber with white walls. Bright white lights made her squint.

A man behind a thick window waved his hand. His narrow eyes stared at her from the darkened room behind the window. His head was so bald it looked shiny.

"Hello." His voice came through overhead speakers. "You must be Tawni. I'm glad to meet you, but I didn't expect it to happen today."

She smiled politely at him. "Who are you?"

"Jack. Chief of security, cashier, and gunsmith. At your service, ma'am."

The walls of the small chamber were made of solid concrete. "This room is like a bunker."

"It's designed to contain a bomb blast," he said.

There was a buzzing noise. Aaron pulled open a heavy door and held it while everybody else walked through. The hallway outside the chamber was gray and long. Norbert and Wesley walked off quickly and left Tawni alone with Aaron.

"Norbert told me something in the coffee shop," she said. "
Legionnaires
don't get paid?"

Aaron nodded. "Nobody in the Society collects a salary, not even me."