The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6) (3 page)

"Medium. It can wait until after you get a little more settled. That's all. Bye."

Norbert put away his phone.

Aaron looked around for a way to escape the highway. Unfortunately, a heavily loaded moving van wasn't the best vehicle for tricky and illegal driving maneuvers. Cars surrounded him on all sides. Unless he was willing to abandon the van and all of its contents, he was trapped. He hated being trapped.

Norbert was pushing buttons on his phone.

"What are you doing?" Aaron said.

"I'm using the browser to search the internet."

"What are you searching for?"

"Information about this protest," Norbert said. "I don't have anything better to do."

Aaron nodded. His preferred approach to information gathering was old-fashioned. His years as a cop had taught him the value of examining a crime scene with his own eyes. He liked to hear reports directly from witnesses. Sometimes the way they talked was as informative as what they said. That kind of subtle detail got lost on the internet.

"This isn't the first large protest," Norbert said eventually. "There were several in Chicago during the last few weeks. The previous ones weren't nearly as disruptive though. I'm seeing a clear pattern of escalating violence. What's strange is the lack of organization at the top. Several groups are claiming responsibility, but they all have different agendas. The politics are random blend of left-wing ideology and libertarianism. There is even some communism in the mix."

Aaron considered this information. He was getting more interested.

"Somebody must be behind the whole thing. A protest capable of shutting down O'Hare doesn't just happen by accident. I'd like to know who that somebody is, and what he's trying to accomplish."

"Sounds like you're asking a question, sir," Norbert said.

"Yes, and I will get an answer."

* * *

Two hours later, Aaron finally drove into the parking lot of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. He had become so irate with the traffic, he was muttering and scowling like a pirate. Norbert was huddled against the far side of the cab, as far from his boss as he could get.

The sight of his new home cooled Aaron's rage a little. The hotel was twenty-two stories tall, but the top two stories were concealed with clever architectural tricks, creating the appearance of just twenty stories. The exterior surface was made entirely of copper tinted glass with seams so tight they were almost invisible. From a distance it appeared the dark glass was a single sheet that went from the ground almost to the top. It wasn't ordinary glass, either. The entire exterior of the building was bulletproof.

The secret twenty-second floor was the new headquarters of the Chicago cell. There were just three ways to get up there: a large service elevator that went down to the basement, an elevator from the first floor, and a ladder hidden inside a support column. Only Aaron, Smythe, and Nancy knew about the ladder. The Gray Spear Society had secrets within secrets.

The service elevator was the only way to move all the boxes up to the top. Aaron drove around to the back of the hotel and went down a ramp to a brown garage door. Norbert took a gray box from his pocket and pressed a button. The door rolled up automatically.

Aaron drove through a dimly lit underground area full of heavy machinery and pipes as big as two feet across. The labyrinthine layout of the basement was designed to baffle intruders and lead them away from sensitive areas. He stopped briefly at a steel wall. Norbert pressed a second button, and the wall folded like an accordion.

Aaron parked in front of an elevator with a door ten feet tall and fifteen feet wide. The secret parking lot held two dozen other vehicles, ranging in size from motorcycles to a short bus. The team used them for missions. Personal cars were usually kept in the outdoor garage attached to the hotel where the access was more convenient.

Aaron and Norbert got out. After being trapped in the van for hours, it felt good to stretch his legs. Aaron pressed a button that caused an electric winch to open the door of the elevator.

He and Norbert loaded boxes into the elevator until it was at capacity. Aaron closed the door. He looked up at a hidden camera in the ceiling and waved. Hopefully, Jack was watching from his security booth and would activate the elevator. Aaron held the two, three, five, and seven buttons for three seconds. The special code served as an additional security measure. The elevator began to rise.

Aaron imagined security scanners sending invisible beams of particles through his body. The elevator was equipped with sensors capable of determining the caliber of a bullet inside the chamber of a concealed gun. By the time he reached the top, Jack would have a complete inventory of the weapons Aaron was carrying. More importantly, the system would detect any bugs on his clothes.

The elevator door opened. He walked into a chamber with solid concrete walls painted white. Overhead panels produced enough white light to make him squint. The only furniture was a wicker couch with thin white cushions. There was no place to hide in here.

Jack sat behind a window made of bulletproof material six inches thick. Light gleamed from his bald head. His blue eyes were focused and intense as always. He wore a plaid shirt cut in a Western style.

"Hello, sir." Jack's voice came through overhead speakers.

"Come help us," Aaron said. "The elevator is full of boxes and there are more in the basement."

"Yes, sir."

Jack left his security booth. He came around to a heavy steel door on the side of the entry chamber and opened it from the other side. He wore blue jeans and cowboy boots. A .45 caliber revolver was in a holster slung low on his hip.

Aaron grabbed a box which was labeled "science." He went out into the hallway.

The walls of headquarters were painted gray, but the floor and ceiling were covered with metallic tiles. The tiles had a rainbow sheen and a granular texture. In terms of cost per ounce, the exotic material was as expensive as gold.

The science laboratory was directly across the hall, and Aaron pushed open the door. Kamal was standing in front of a very complex piece of equipment made mostly of stainless steel tubes and small glass portals. He was a native of the United States, but his parents had come from Southern India, and his skin was very dark. He wore a white button-up shirt, brown slacks, and polished black leather shoes. He prided himself on being the best dressed member of the team. Today, the top button of his shirt was open, a sign of great distress. The move had been difficult for everybody.

Aaron put the box on a table and looked around the laboratory. Some of the equipment had been unpacked, but most was still in crates. At this rate, it would take a week for Kamal to finish moving in.

Somebody else was hiding behind the equipment that Kamal was working on.

"Check the vacuum pump now," Smythe said.

"The indicator is still red," Kamal replied. "Are you sure it's on the 220 volt circuit?"

"Pretty sure."

Aaron walked over and saw his second in command kneeling on the floor. Smythe was wrestling with thick electrical cables, and he seemed irritated.

He looked up. "Oh, hi, sir."

He had hair the color of rust, but it was cut so short it was hard to tell. His eyes were as blue as the summer sky. A strong jaw, beefy shoulders, and a tapering waist made him look like a comic book hero. He wore a gray T-shirt and jeans.

"Maybe Nancy should handle the high voltage wiring," Aaron said. "I don't want you to electrocute yourself."

"Nancy has ten thousand other tasks on her plate right now. I'll figure this out, sir. It's not that complicated."

"If you say so. Still, rubber gloves might be a good idea. You may have an abundance of useful skills, but last I checked, you're not an electrician."

"Yes, sir."

Aaron went back to the elevator and grabbed another box. This one was labeled "computer."

He carried the box down a long corridor with doors on either side. He walked into a large open area that was intended for training and exercise. A few blue mats were on the floor, and one of the stair climbers was turned on, but the rest of the equipment was still packed. There was a lot of open space, enough for a short running track. The cell occupied the entire top floor of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. They could afford to be a little wasteful with square footage.

Aaron went through an open doorway into the computer room. Piles of disconnected computers and other technology components were scattered across the spacious floor. The twins possessed tons of equipment. Most of it would be mounted in racks that ran along the walls.

Bethany was working behind one of the racks. He assumed she was Bethany because she was wearing an ornate diamond necklace with a huge pendant, known as the Eye of Satinia. Her skin looked deeply tanned but that was her natural color. Silky black hair flowed down her back. She had been born an Arabian princess, and the shape of her nose signaled her Middle-eastern heritage. As always, she wore a plain white shirt and a pleated red skirt. Her feet were bare. Aaron had seen her wear shoes only a few times in the many months he had known her.

She looked at him. "Hello, sir."

"Did you get any more information about the protest?" He placed the box he was carrying on a table.

"I tried. There is a printout on the printer."

He searched the room until he located the printer. He grabbed several sheets of paper from the output tray.

"I identified those people as the leaders," Bethany said.

Aaron examined the long list. Each name had the name of an organization beside it.

"There must be a hundred people here."

"A hundred and twelve, sir," she said.

"And who are these groups? The Anti-wealth league. The Brigade for Basic Rights. The Alliance Against Corruption. The Ninety-nine Percenters?"

He frowned. This situation reminded him of a trick criminals had sometimes used to throw him off the trail back when he was a detective. The perpetrator would leave an overabundance of contradictory evidence at the crime scene. The idea had been to hide the real clues behind a forest of false ones.

He suspected all the names on Bethany's list were just an elaborate smoke screen. The real people responsible for the protests were still undiscovered. He wadded up the sheets of paper and threw them into a nearby garbage can.

"Sir?" she said.

"We'll have to try a different approach if we want the truth. Where is Leanna? It's weird not seeing you two together."

"In the data center."

Aaron walked through a doorway into an adjacent room which contained even more computers. He wasn't sure how the twins were choosing which pieces of equipment went in which room, but apparently, they had a system in mind. It all seemed arbitrary to him.

Leanna was holding the bottom of a ladder. She looked exactly the same as her sister, and her clothing was also perfectly identical. The only obvious difference was that Leanna didn't have a diamond necklace. Aaron had learned how to tell the twins apart even without the necklace. A few tiny scars and blemishes marked them as individuals, but he had to look closely.

Nancy stood on top of the ladder. She was pulling bundles of wire through wide metal conduits attached to the ceiling.

"How is it going?" Aaron said.

She looked down at him. "As well as I expected, sir."

"That bad?"

She nodded.

She had a wide body, but she wasn't fat. She was just naturally round. Brown, frizzy hair was cut so short she almost looked boyish. She wore gray coveralls, heavy work boots, and knee pads. A diverse assortment of tools hung from a broad leather belt. Her thick lips were curved in a smile that was always on her face. She was the happiest person Aaron had ever met.

"Keep at it," he said, "and prioritize your tasks. We need this headquarters up and running. God's enemies won't take a vacation just because we're busy moving."

"Yes, sir."

Aaron expected Nancy was having fun even though the work was hard. She had been deeply involved in the design of this headquarters from the beginning. It was her baby as much as his. Now she was seeing all of that planning and analysis come to fruition. She was justified in feeling very proud of her accomplishment.

He left to get another box from the elevator.

Chapter Two

Two hours later, Aaron and Norbert arrived at the old headquarters to pick up another load of boxes. As Aaron drove the van towards the entrance, he saw that the garage door was up.

"Robbers." He quietly parked on the side of the street.

He and Norbert got out. Aaron checked in all directions for witnesses, then drew a Glock 22 from a holster under his T-shirt. It wasn't his biggest gun, but it was tremendously accurate and reliable. If he had to make a difficult shot under adverse conditions, the Glock was his first choice.

Norbert drew a similar weapon. "What are the rules of engagement, sir? Are they considered civilians?"

"Yes, but they invaded our home. Try to avoid killing them, but don't hesitate to pull the trigger if you feel threatened."

"Yes, sir."

Aaron silently crept along the outside of the building towards the open doorway. The sun was bright but the air was pleasantly cool. Norbert stayed a step behind.

Aaron leaned over and looked through the opening. He didn't see anybody, but a full-sized bus was parked inside. The dark gray bus had no markings, and the windows were very heavily tinted. All the boxes and crates were exactly where he had left them. He was puzzled.

He slipped inside. He heard low voices coming from the kitchen. There was still plenty of food in there, certainly enough to make a good meal for a group of unwelcome visitors.

As he got closer to the bus, he noticed odd details. The wheels were equipped with an automatic tire inflation system like the kind the military used. The sides were made of welded plates instead of sheet metal. Thick bolts held the windows in place.

Somebody grabbed his gun. Aaron tried to yank it free, but the attacker had a grip as strong as a vise.