The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6) (29 page)

"What about a name?"

She shook her head. "No luck. We listened to a few of his voice mails though. Everybody calls him 'the Handyman.' That designation may refer to more than one person."

"Still, it's a good lead. Your work is outstanding, as usual."

Bethany and Leanna smiled simultaneously.

"Smythe and Odelia will investigate the address," Aaron said. "Norbert and Tawni will back them up if necessary, so be ready to go on short notice."

Wesley looked up from his paper. "What about me?"

"I suppose you can be available as backup, too."

"No, I want to go with the first team."

"A child would attract too much attention," Aaron said.

"That's not fair!"

"I'm not aware of the rule that states mission assignments must be handed out fairly. Smythe and Odelia are my best operatives. Sending them first maximizes the chance of a successful outcome. Of course, if you were willing to use your powerful gift, you'd be an asset instead of a liability. I might reconsider my position."

Wesley made a sour face. "I feel like a prisoner here."

"If you want to get back on the road," Aaron said, "there is a team downstairs that will eagerly accommodate you. Fresh air, blue skies, and a new adventure every day. Your bus is waiting. Or you can do things my way."

Wesley looked away.

Aaron sighed. "Smythe and Odelia, get moving, and be careful out there. Bethany and Leanna, go to sleep. Use the guest quarters so I can find you quickly if you're needed. The rest of us will clean up the kitchen and then do some light training together. Wesley, that includes you."

"Sir," Tawni said, "can I speak to you privately?"

"Of course. Everybody else is dismissed. You have your orders."

The conference room quickly cleared out. Tawni was left alone with Aaron.

"I understand it's our job," she said, "but killing a lot of people still bothers me."

He nodded. "That's a healthy reaction. Think of the Nonsectarians as a cancer that must be wiped out before it kills the world. That's the ultimate goal of God's enemies. If we let any bit survive, the cancer will grow back."

"How many people have you killed, sir?"

"A few hundred, more or less." He shrugged. "I don't keep count."

That number sounded huge to her. She couldn't believe he had stated it so casually. "That doesn't bother you?"

"I care more about the millions of lives I've saved. We're trying to rescue the entire City of Chicago this time."

She looked down.

"I'll give you a few minutes to think about it." He stood up. "Then I'll expect to see you in the kitchen." He left the room.

She sighed deeply. She didn't doubt he was telling the truth, but she still didn't know if she could pull the trigger when the time came.

The paper with the forbidden equation caught her attention. Wesley had written several notes on it. She grabbed the paper and realized they weren't childish scribbles. He had made specific corrections using real mathematical notation. This seemed important.

She took the paper to the guest quarters. She found Bethany and Leanna lying side by side on a bed. Their eyes were already closed.

Tawni leaned into the room. "Hello? I need to show you something before you go to sleep."

The twins' eyes opened simultaneously. Bethany pulled back the sheet and sat up. She was still wearing her usual white shirt and red pleated skirt. It appeared the twins intended to sleep in their clothes.

"What, ma'am?" Bethany said in a tired voice.

Tawni hurried over and gave her the paper. "It looks like Wesley thought your equation was wrong."

Bethany furrowed her brow as she examined the corrections. Leanna sat up and did the same with an identical expression.

"Well?" Tawni said.

"It's interesting," Bethany said, "but Aaron ordered us to sleep. We'll look into it later."

"Could it be important?"

"Yes. Thank you for showing us this."

Tawni stood a little taller. "You're welcome. I'll let you sleep now." She left to go to the kitchen.

* * *

The central office of Clear Path Cable and Internet was huge. Blue and white buildings filled an entire city block. The company had its own three-story parking garage.

Smythe had driven around the entire complex twice, and he was getting frustrated. "Where the hell is building four?"

"Maybe the twins made a mistake," Odelia said.

The two of them were in a small, brown sedan. They wore the green uniforms of Clear Path technicians.

"That seems very unlikely," he said. "We're just not looking in the right place."

"Then keep circling."

He stopped at a stop light and looked over. She was adorable in her green uniform. Her white hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and brown contacts made her eyes appear normal. He gave her a kiss on the cheek just because he felt like it.

He loved spending so much time with her, but he wished there had been more opportunity for intimacy. They had had sex only once so far. Hopefully, the mission would end soon, and Aaron wouldn't send Odelia back to Los Angeles immediately. She deserved a day or two of relaxation after being such a good soldier.

The light turned green, and he drove forward slowly. Buildings one, two, and three were prominently marked with big, black letters. He didn't see any others.

"There!" Odelia pointed across the road at a low building made of dirty, brown bricks.

He spotted a tiny blue "Clear Path Cable" sign above the front door. There was a "4" on it, but the number was small and hard to read.

"Good catch." He patted her thigh.

He drove further down the block and parked on the side of the road. They got out. The air was warm but cloud cover threatened rain. Springtime in Chicago was always volatile. It could be cold and clear one day and muggy the next.

Building four was beside one of the many water channels that were collectively called the "Chicago River." The channels probably had individual names, but Smythe had never heard anybody use them. This one was about 150 feet wide, but he couldn't tell how deep it was because the brown water was opaque. Walls made of concrete or rusty steel formed the sides. Swimming in the water was out of the question. It was still frigid from winter, and there was no safe way to get in or out.

Smythe and Odelia walked along a narrow path beside the river. He wanted to hold her hand, but that would look suspicious. There was probably a rule against employees of Clear Path fraternizing.

They approached building four cautiously. All the windows were painted black and covered with burglar bars. Loops of barbed wire ran along the edges of the roof.

"Not very inviting," Odelia said.

Smythe pointed at a surveillance camera mounted high on a tree. They couldn't get any closer without being seen.

"I have an idea," she said. "Instead of us going into the hornet's nest, let's poke it and see what comes out."

"Agreed."

They went back to the car and opened the trunk. It was packed with duffle bags full of useful items. After a little digging, Smythe found the bag of guns. There was a wide assortment, ranging from .22 caliber target pistols to sniper rifles. He selected a Barrett M98B rifle and screwed on a suppressor. The .338 Lapua Magnum bullet was a little quieter than its .50 caliber big brother, but still exceptionally accurate.

"This will poke nicely," he said.

He found a camera with a telephoto lens for Odelia. She frowned when he handed it to her.

"That's right," she said. "Give the camera to the little lady while the big, strong man keeps the gun. I bet I'm a better marksman than you."

He gave her the rifle and took the camera. "When we get back to headquarters, we'll settle this in the shooting range."

"I look forward to smoking you." She winked.

"We'll see. Aaron has been teaching me a few tricks."

There was no good cover in the immediate area. They got back in the car and drove across a bridge to the other side of the river. They eventually found a dense clump of bushes that provided a good view of building four without being too far away.

Smythe and Odelia laid down in the weeds under the bushes. He used a miniature tripod to steady the camera while she lined up her shot.

"What will you give me if I do this in one shot?" she said.

"A kiss," he said, "and if you miss, you have to kiss me instead."

"Sounds fair."

She pulled the trigger. The suppressor kept the noise down to a loud hiss. The surveillance camera near building four broke apart.

"That shot is worth two kisses." He grabbed her head and kissed her firmly on the lips.

"Where is my second kiss?"

He gave her a sly look. "I want to catch you by surprise."

She sniffed with disappointment.

He settled down and looked through the view finder of the camera. The telephoto lens made it seem like he was only twenty feet away from his target, when the truth was more like two hundred.

After a minute, two men came around the building and looked up at the broken video camera. They wore green technician uniforms. Both had long hair and puffy beards which made them appear barbaric.

"I wonder which is the Handyman," Odelia said.

Smythe snapped off several pictures. "Could be both, or maybe one is the Assistant Handyman."

Bulges under their uniforms suggested they carried concealed guns. One man took out a phone and made a call.

They remained outside the building, apparently waiting for something. After a minute, three blue and white vans arrived. They had flashing yellow lights on top and the word "Security" printed on the side. Smythe took more pictures, making sure he got clear shots of the license plates.

Six guards wearing green uniforms and badges fanned out to check the area. They walked along the path by the river. Smythe and Odelia flattened their bodies in the weeds in case a guard looked their way.

"I have an idea," Smythe said. "The Handyman will want that surveillance camera repaired right away, and we're already wearing technician costumes. We could just show up."

"That idea is worth a kiss." Odelia grabbed his head and kissed him.

"I'm not sure if all this kissing is recommended for a Gray Spear Society operation."

"We'll start a new trend."

When it seemed safe, they crept back to their car. Smythe drove across the bridge and parked in the same spot he had used before. They got out and buckled on tool belts that were part of their costume.

"We should grab some bugs," Odelia said.

They retrieved an assortment of tracking and listening devices from the trunk. The small items went into the many pockets on their costumes.

They walked boldly towards building four. Security guards were still wandering around, but the presence of two technicians in corporate uniforms didn't interest them.

Smythe and Odelia stopped and looked up at the broken camera. The bullet had taken out the lens.

"Nice shot," he whispered.

"Thank you," she replied. "How would I do in a shooting contest with Aaron?"

"He'd still kick your ass."

One of the "Handymen" was still outside the building. He hurried over and said, "Who are you guys?"

Smythe faced him. "Security sent us to fix the camera. What the hell happened? Did somebody hit it with a rock?"

"Get out of here. I'll fix the camera myself."

"No. We have our orders. We'll fix the camera."

"Go away!" The Handyman pointed towards the street.

Smythe crossed his arms. "You can't tell us what to do. Who are you? Why don't you have a name tag?"

"I'm the Handyman. Do you get it now?"

"No." Smythe shook his head. "Is that some kind of nickname? Like on a video game?"

"I swear, if you and your girlfriend don't leave now..."

"Take it up with management. Do you have a ladder in there?"

Smythe shoved the Handyman and knocked him down. Smythe walked quickly around the building to the front door. He heard rapid footsteps coming up from behind. He stepped aside at the last instant, and the Handyman crashed face-first into a wall. Smythe kicked him in the back of the head hard enough to send him to the ground.

"Are you OK?" Odelia cried. "Did you hurt yourself? Let me help you." She knelt down beside the fallen man.

Smythe smiled.
That's my girl.

He used the opportunity to enter the building. The interior was crowded with electronic equipment of all shapes and sizes. A brightly lit workbench occupied the center of the room. Some large devices were similar to the broadband amplifier he had chopped up last night.

The other Handyman was working at the bench. He looked up and appeared shocked when he saw Smythe.

"Who are you?"

"I'm looking for a ladder," Smythe said. "I came to fix the broken camera."

The Handyman drew a gun and pointed it at Smythe's chest. "You shouldn't be in here."

Smythe ducked behind a tall stack of hardware. "Hey! Take it easy! I just want a ladder."

He took a listening device out of his pocket, turned it on, and hid it deep inside the stack.

The Handyman came around with the gun still out. Smythe stood up slowly. He kept his arms raised and tried to shiver as if afraid.

"What's your name?"

"My name?" Smythe squeaked. "Uh, what's that?" He looked to his right.

The Handyman instinctively glanced in the same direction. Smythe slapped the gun out of his hand and swept his feet in a single swift move. The Handyman caught his head on the corner of a table as he fell. He was immediately knocked out.

Smythe quickly searched the body until he found a wallet. He copied down identifying information onto a notepad. He put the wallet back exactly where he had found it. Finally, he planted several bugs on the man's clothes.

Smythe went back outside. Odelia was still attending the first man, and she had a deeply concerned expression. She was a fabulous actress.

"Just stay down," she said softly. "You could have a head injury."

The security guards were converging on her. Smythe whistled softly and nodded towards the car with his head.