The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6) (2 page)

"Don't the police do that?"

"They do a shitty job."

He couldn't argue with her assessment. The west side of Chicago was such a notorious slum that taxis refused to pick up passengers here.

He looked down at the four men on the ground. They had regained consciousness and were alert. They were staying down though, thanks to Smythe and his rock steady .45 caliber pistol.

"Go!" Aaron commanded. "All of you. Get out of here."

The men looked to Tawni for guidance. Aaron pulled a G36C from a holster under his shirt. The compact assault rifle fired at a rate of 750 rounds per minute, fast enough to empty the magazine in 2.4 seconds. Aaron had removed the stock to make it easier to conceal.

"I told you to run!" he bellowed.

The men scrambled to get away as fast as their wobbly legs would carry them.

Aaron went back to Tawni.

"What are you going to do?" she said with a sneer. "Rape me? You like chocolate?"

Her bravery impressed him. Most women would be crying by now. He also liked the anger in her eyes which made him think of his beloved Marina.

"Let go of her," he commanded.

Norbert released her arms. Tawni rubbed her sore shoulders and looked at the
legionnaires
on either side with an uneasy expression.

"Have you ever killed anybody?" Aaron said.

"Why?" she said.

He pressed the barrel of his G36C against the underside of her chin. "Answer the question."

"Once." She swallowed. "I was stationed overseas, and I shot an enemy."

"You were a soldier?"

"National Guard."

Smythe and Norbert were giving Aaron curious looks.

"You're obviously not a soldier now," Aaron said. "What made you become a vigilante?"

Tawni hesitated.

Smythe put the barrel of his gun against her ear and cocked the hammer. "The man asked you a question, miss."

"When I got back home," she said, "what I saw here made me sick. This neighborhood is worse than some of the shitholes I fought in. I had to do something about the crime. I had to make a difference."

Aaron saw understanding in the eyes of Smythe and Norbert. They got it now.

"A bold decision," Aaron said. "A young woman could easily get killed or worse doing what you're doing. Aren't you afraid?"

She stood a little taller. "I can't just sit on my ass and pretend everything is fine. That's what my mother used to do!"

"Your mother?"

She looked away.

"Why didn't you just join the police?" he said. "They would give you equipment, training, and support. That would be much better than sneaking around at night dressed like chumps. Crime isn't something you can solve by yourself, no matter how brave you are. Do you have a particular problem with the police?"

She snarled but remained quiet.

He put his hand on her throat. "Talk!"

"I don't like cops."

"Why?"

"They aren't my people." She looked into his eyes. "They don't... feel right."

He smiled. She had given him a very good answer.

"Who are you?" she said.

"Ask a different question," he said. "Are we your people? Do we feel right? Am I the man you've been looking for your whole life?"

She studied him for a moment. Suddenly, she appeared startled.

He stepped back. "Gentleman, let's go." He headed down the dark alley at a brisk walk.

Smythe and Norbert jogged to catch up to Aaron.

"You want to recruit her, sir?" Smythe said.

Aaron nodded. "We'll have to do our due diligence first. I need to know a lot more about her before taking the next step." He cracked a smile. "This will be the first time I recruited a
legionnaire
. It will be a learning experience for me. What's your opinion?"

"She's raw. Very raw. She'll need a lot of training."

"I'm sure that's true. Hopefully, she'll be worth it."

"I don't think you made a good first impression, sir," Norbert said. "She already hates your guts."

Aaron shrugged. "Then it's a good thing I'll be her commander and not her boyfriend."

* * *

Aaron drove a moving van through the same neighborhood he had walked through last night. Bright sunlight gleamed from the windshield and made him squint. He was a little tired, but a couple of strong cups of coffee were compensating for a lack of sleep. The training exercise had been very productive, and he was proud of himself for devising it. It had just taken longer than expected.

He drove up to the red brick warehouse that had served as his headquarters until today. The blank walls didn't appear any different, but it was no longer an official stronghold of the Gray Spear Society. It was now just a place where death still lingered like a house guest that had overstayed his welcome.

Norbert hopped out of the passenger side of the van. He ran over to the garage door and used a key to remove a padlock. He pushed the rolling door all the way up. All the security systems were permanently shut down, and that lock was the only thing keeping intruders out.

Aaron drove inside. He looked at the rows of rusty steel pillars with bittersweet feelings. This place had been his home for more than a year, and he had become a commander here. He would always have fond memories. On the other hand, it was an ugly dump with a leaky roof. Everything about this building was hacked and temporary. It was impossible to heat or cool properly. He would be glad when it was just a golden memory.

Great piles of cardboard boxes and wooden crates were stacked in the center of the warehouse. Aaron parked the moving van next to a pile and got out. Norbert hurried over to join him.

"Ready for some hard physical labor?" Aaron stretched his arms.

Norbert nodded. "Yes, sir."

They spent an hour loading boxes into the large van. The job was only half done when they ran out of cargo space. They would have to come back at least once and maybe twice to get everything. The Chicago cell owned a lot of stuff.

Both men had worked up a sweat from lifting so many heavy boxes. This wasn't convenient because Aaron now had an appointment with a police detective and wanted to look sharp. He and Norbert quickly took turns in the shower. Fortunately, the hot water still worked.

After drying off, they put on United States Army dress uniforms. The costumes were hanging in the cab of the moving van, and corresponding identification was already in the pockets.

They checked each other for flaws in their appearance. Norbert's brown curly hair was still damp from the hot shower, and his round face was still flushed. He filled out his Army uniform nicely. More than a year of intense training had given him a very lean and muscular body. He now looked and acted like a real
legionnaire
, and Aaron was confident in his abilities. Aaron smiled a little.

"Sir?" Norbert said.

"You've come so far since the day Wesley made you one of us. I still remember that night."

"I'm sure I remember it better than you. It was a traumatic experience."

"Indeed," Aaron said. "I guess I never apologized for wiping out all your men."

"You were just doing your job. It's my fault as much as anybody's. If only I had asked the right questions or been a little less gullible, those good men would still be alive. I have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life."

Aaron patted Norbert on the shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up. The Brotherhood was working for an enemy of God, and all of them were destined to die. You couldn't have stopped it. It's a real miracle you survived, and in retrospect, I'm very glad you did. If I ever see Wesley again, I'll thank him for the gift of a fine addition to my team."

Norbert blushed. "Should we get going, sir? The detective is expecting us."

"Right. Let's go."

* * *

Police detective Jake Murphy sat behind his blue metal desk. Aaron picked out subtle details that suggested what kind of man he was. Murphy's highly polished badge was made in an obsolete style, suggesting he was proud of being an old-school cop. His blue uniform fit too tightly around his gut, indicating vanity. His face was freshly shaved, and no nose hairs were poking out. There was only one folder on his otherwise clean desk.

"What can the Chicago police do for the United States Army?" he said.

Aaron and Norbert sat with strict military postures in their Army uniforms. Both wore the rank insignia of lieutenants.

"We're gathering information about a woman named Tawni Williams," Aaron said. "We were told she's the main suspect in a few cases you're working on."

"That's right. She's accused of several violent crimes. What's your interest in her?"

"She was in the National Guard until four months ago. Recently, evidence came to light that implicates her in a crime committed while she was in uniform. An officer was badly injured in a car accident. We now believe Ms. Williams caused the accident. We're hoping you can help us locate her."

"I wish I could," Murphy said. "I've been trying to find this woman for weeks. She's very slippery."

Aaron was pleased to hear that but didn't show it. "What crimes is she accused of?"

"She runs with a group that calls itself the Lake Street Vigilantes. They attack small-time criminals like drug dealers, car thieves, and even the occasional wife beater. They always pick targets that are isolated and vulnerable. The west side of Chicago is their hunting grounds."

Aaron looked around. The detective was one of several in a large shared office. Each man or woman had his own desk, but they were spaced close together. Phone calls and conversations with witnesses could be heard across the room. Being here brought back plenty of poignant memories for Aaron. He had been a Chicago detective once, and he had worked in a place much like this one.

"How long has this been going on?"

"For months," Murphy said. "At first, my department didn't pay much attention. The victims refused to file a complaint or make a statement, so our hands were tied. Lately, though, the attacks have become more violent. She put several men in the hospital with serious injuries. This woman has a very nasty approach to crime fighting."

"I'm surprised she's still alive. Vigilantes don't last long on the streets of Chicago."

"She's smart enough to avoid the big fish, but it's just a matter of time. If we don't get her, somebody else will. She's ruffling the wrong feathers."

"What's her reputation aside from general nastiness?" Aaron said. "What kind of woman is she?"

"I'm told she enjoys a lot of variety in her love life." Murphy winked. "She changes boyfriends like she changes clothes. That's one reason she's so hard to catch. She never sleeps in the same bed more than a few nights in a row. Always moving on. Her only long-term relationship seems to be with her mother."

Everything Aaron had heard so far reinforced his impression that he wanted Tawni on his team. She was a natural operator who knew how to exploit her own femininity.

"If you do catch her, please let us know right away." Aaron put a business card on the desk. "She has military crimes to answer for."

Murphy picked up the card. "I'll do that if you'll do the same."

"Sure. Thanks. We'll let you get back to work."

Aaron and Norbert stood up and left.

* * *

The moving van was stuck in traffic. Aaron gripped the steering wheel in frustration as he stared at an endless sea of cars on Interstate 294. The highway had become a parking lot with three lanes in each direction. Nobody had moved an inch in fifteen minutes. He was used to slow city traffic, but this was ridiculous, and it wasn't even rush hour.

He sighed and looked over at Norbert. Both men still wore the Army uniforms from the meeting with Detective Murphy. Aaron planned to change as soon as he got back to headquarters. Hopefully that would happen today. The Rosemont Tower Hotel was only two miles away, tantalizingly close.

"Call your girlfriends," he said. "Maybe they can tell us what the fuck is going on."

"Yes, sir."

Norbert took out his gray phone and made the call. He turned on the speaker so Aaron could participate in the conversation.

"Bethany, Leanna, we're stuck in traffic," Norbert said. "Why?"

After a pause, Bethany replied. "There is a huge protest at O'Hare Airport. The airport is shut down and all the surrounding roads are backed up. It's a mess. You could be stuck for a while."

Aaron assumed Bethany had spoken. The twins were identical in nearly every way, including their voices, but he had learned the subtle differences between them. Bethany was the slightly more aggressive of the two. She tended to give the reports and make the complaints. If a fact needed to be stated clearly and unambiguously, she stated it. Leanna preferred to lurk in the background.

On the other hand, Leanna seemed to have access to deeper levels of wisdom. She sometimes made small comments that were baffling and easily ignored. Days later, Aaron would finally understand the profound truth in her observation. Both women were incredibly smart, but Leanna had an extra bit of freakish intuition.

"What are they protesting?" Aaron said.

"I'm trying to figure that out, sir," Bethany said. "The news coverage is confusing. I think the protesters don't like rich people or politicians."

"In other words, a generic protest."

"But a violent one. I'm looking at the television channels now. The police are having a very hard time with the situation, and there is smoke coming from parts of the airport."

He frowned. He didn't like to see violent social unrest in his territory. The Gray Spear Society probably had no interest in the matter, but he would keep an eye on it, nonetheless.

"Dig into it. I'll expect more details when I finally get home."

"Yes, sir," Bethany said.

"As long as I have you on the phone," Aaron said, "do you have any more information about Tawni Williams?"

"No, sir. We spent all morning putting our computer systems back together. Half of them are still turned off. Some of the electrical power circuits were wired incorrectly, and Nancy is trying to fix them for us. We're also having problems with the ventilation system in the data center. Is Tawni a high priority?"