The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6) (31 page)

Jack shook his head. "They're not human."

"Where is Charles?" Wesley said.

Jack pushed more buttons and discovered Charles in his hotel room. He was lying on his bed with his eyes closed. He was using headphones to listen to a portable radio.

Carlos was standing at a window and looking out at the world. The dead man was as still as a statue.

Wesley cocked his head.
This isn't right,
he thought. Charles never relaxed and wasn't interested in music.

"Can we hear the music that Charles has on his radio?" Wesley said.

"I'll try." Jack played with the controls. "No, it's too quiet for the microphone to pick up."

What is he listening to?
Wesley wondered. He realized the answer. Carlos had probably planted bugs all over headquarters so Charles could hear the conversations. That was how the protection team had known where Wesley would be. Concrete walls and elaborate security measures were no barrier to Carlos.

There was an easy way to confirm this theory. "Hey!" Wesley said. "Charles! I know you're listening. Open your eyes."

Charles reacted. The response was subtle enough that only Wesley could tell, but to him, the body language was obvious. The security booth was bugged, and Charles was listening to every word.

"He can't hear you," Jack said.

An escape plan began to form in Wesley's mind. There was an emergency rappel system on the roof which could get him to the ground in a hurry. That was half-way to freedom, and he would bypass the many layers of security inside the hotel. He just had to disable a few cameras and move quickly. It would take a while before anybody noticed he was gone.

"Can I try the camera controls?"

"I guess so," Jack replied without enthusiasm. "Use the other station. Just be careful, please. The system is armed and very dangerous. If you're not completely sure what a button does, don't push it."

He pointed at another chair. There was a second cluster of surveillance controls and monitors, but the setup was simpler than the primary station.

It took Wesley only a minute to figure out how to switch between camera views. The security system used hundreds of cameras, but they were sorted into sensible groups. He cycled back and forth until he identified three cameras he wanted to turn off. That would create a blind spot just big enough for him to slip through.

Jack was covertly keeping an eye on Wesley. He needed Jack to look the other way for thirty seconds.

A tiny restroom with a single toilet was attached to the security booth. Clearly, it was meant for whoever was manning the console. Wesley went into the restroom, closed the door, and waited. After a reasonable amount of time had passed, he plugged the toilet with an excessive amount of toilet paper. When he flushed it, water leaked over the brim.

"Ooh! Gross!" He hurried out of the restroom.

Jack looked over. "Damn." He went into the restroom, grabbed a plunger from a back corner, and began to unclog the toilet.

Wesley immediately went to the surveillance controls. He had mentally rehearsed what to do, so turning off the three cameras took just a short time. The system would simply take them out of the rotation.

He left the security booth before Jack had a chance to ask any questions. Wesley breathed a deep sigh of relief. If pressed, he would have to tell the truth.

Now he could leave any time he wanted, but he still needed a place to go. He expected an answer to that question would come soon. The mission was about to get interesting.

* * *

Smythe looked through binoculars at a green and blue van with the words "Clear Path Cable and Internet" painted on the side. It was parked near an open manhole in a street. Plastic barriers and traffic cones surrounded the hole.

He was in the front seat of a car with Odelia at his side. She had four radio receivers on her lap corresponding to the four bugs planted on the Handyman. Two of the bugs were listening devices. Smythe could hear the Handyman cursing as he worked under the street. He was alone down there, but that fact didn't slow the constant stream of foul language.

"I want to look inside that van," Smythe said. "I bet it's full of useful evidence."

"Risky," Odelia said. "If he sees us again, somebody will die."

He checked his watch. "The twins must be awake by now." He took out his phone and called Bethany.

"Hello, sir," she said.

"I gave some information to Aaron earlier. Have you investigated that lead?"

"Not yet. Leanna and I need to work on something else first."

He frowned. "What?"

"During the meeting, Wesley made some changes to the forbidden wave equation. We're trying to understand them."

"And that's more important than helping me with a mission?"

"Yes, sir," Bethany said softly. "We'll help you as soon as we're done with this other task."

"I don't understand how a theoretical math problem comes before supporting your teammates in the field," Smythe said. "We're on a difficult assignment, and the entire city of Chicago is in danger. We need everybody pulling together. Do I have to talk to Aaron about this?"

"I believe the Child of Destiny is sending us a crucial message. We must decipher it quickly, sir. Our success may depend on it."

Normally, Bethany never spoke out of turn. Her taking such a strong, almost insubordinate stance caught Smythe by surprise.

"How long will this take?"

"Hopefully just an hour," she said.

He sighed. "I suppose a crucial message from the Child of Destiny is worth an hour of your time. Get back to me as soon as you have information I can use."

"Yes, sir," Bethany said. "I'm sorry if I was rude to you."

"Forget about it. Bye." Smythe put away his phone. "Did you hear?" he asked Odelia.

She nodded. "I thought the Los Angeles cell got into some crazy situations. Chicago makes us look pedestrian. While you were discussing secrets and destiny, I had an idea. Let's have that van towed back to headquarters. The rest of the team can search it thoroughly while we stay out in the field."

"Interesting, but how do we keep the Handyman from killing the tow truck driver?"

"Let's have him arrested."

"For what?" Smythe said.

"I bet he has a concealed gun. Isn't that a felony in Chicago?" Odelia winked. "We can't keep following him around anyway. This investigation is taking too much time."

He smiled. "You get two kisses for that idea."

"I'm still owed one from before. Don't make promises your lips can't deliver."

He gave her three kisses. "Are we good now?"

"I may have to charge interest."

Smythe called Aaron and explained the proposal.

"I like it," Aaron said. "Just stay where you are. I'll make the arrangements. After the Handyman is arrested, follow him to jail. I'll meet you there. We'll go in as FBI agents and talk to him."

"Yes, sir."

Five minutes later, a police car parked beside the open manhole. Two Chicago PD officers got out and yelled down.

The Handyman climbed up and out of the hole. The listening devices planted on his clothes allowed Smythe to hear the conversation.

"What's the problem?" the Handyman said.

"We got a tip that you're carrying a concealed weapon," a cop said.

"What? Hey, I'm just trying to work here."

"We have to search you."

The Handyman shook his head and stepped back. "Come on. This is harassment."

Both cops drew their guns. "Put your hands on the vehicle," one said. "Spread your legs."

"You're making a huge mistake. I know people. I'll have your badges for this."

The Handyman leaned against the police car. He was patted down and two guns were discovered. The officers arrested him and took him away.

Smythe followed in his own car.

"What about the van?" Odelia said.

"A tow truck will be along to pick it up. We don't want to keep Aaron waiting."

* * *

Tawni turned off the television with a remote control, but she continued to stare at the blank screen. She had just watched a recording of the fighting tournament at the convention three months ago. It was the most incredible thing she had ever seen.

She was sitting on the couch in the living room in headquarters. It was a very comfortable space. The couch was plush and there were two padded recliners. The huge television covered a good chunk of a wall.

Images from the tournament still crowded her mind. She had seen Marina fight. Aaron's red-haired girlfriend had freakish skills and wicked fingernails. The eventual champion, a guy named Hammer, was like a super-villain from a comic book. It was hard not to think the whole thing had been a special effects production. Her gut told her it was real though.

Feeling a little disoriented, she left the living room. Voices down the hall drew her to the computer room. The fan noise from all the equipment and the ventilation system annoyed her as she entered. It just wasn't a very good work environment.

The twins were reclining in the webbed seats of their futuristic workstations. Tawni wanted to sit in one of those chairs just to know how it felt. They were almost hammocks.

Grids of computer monitors were positioned above the girls, and the screens were packed with information. She recognized a few English words here and there, but most of it was just random letters and numbers to Tawni. Text flowed smoothly in dozens of windows. She didn't understand how anybody could make sense of the gibberish.

Wesley stood back with his arms crossed. The boy had a concerned expression as he watched the twins work.

He faced Tawni. "You look dazed."

"I just saw the tournament video," she said.

"What did you think?"

"It's hard to believe those are real people."

"You'll be like them," he said. "A feared elite fighter. I can already see changes in you."

"Really?"

His hypnotic blue eyes stared at her. "I never lie."

"We're ready," Bethany said.

"Ready for what?" Tawni said.

"We're going to try the equation Wesley wrote down. It could be dangerous, so keep your eyes closed."

Tawni still had vivid memories of Aaron almost killing her after seeing the penguin video.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "They're closed."

"Go ahead," Wesley said.

She heard a key being clicked.

"It's active," Bethany said.

There was silence.

"Wesley?" she said. "Is it safe to open our eyes?"

Wesley whispered, "Yes."

Tawni opened her eyes. All the computer screens glowed with a shimmering white radiance. The strange light filled her with a wonderful feeling of peace. It went through her eyes and deep into her mind. It clarified and illuminated her thoughts. It was light that cast no shadows.

"I've seen this before," she said softly. "It's the light of truth. It's Wesley's gift."

"Turn it off," Wesley said. "Right now!"

Bethany pressed a key. The computer screens returned to normal.

Another light filled the room. Tawni turned around and discovered a glowing ball of mist. It was as green as fresh grown grass. The surface boiled like water and sparks danced deep in the interior.

Bethany and Leanna climbed out of their seats and stood before the mist. They didn't seem afraid.

"That was dangerous," the mist said. The voice seemed to come from very far away, and it was neither male nor female.

"We didn't know," Bethany said. "We're sorry."

"I buried this gift inside the Child to keep it safe. That is where it must stay."

"We'll delete the data, Sir."

"Wait until tomorrow. You'll need it tonight to rescue your friends. You may use it once and only once." The mist faded and vanished.

Tawni stared at the empty air. "What the hell was that?"

"God," Bethany stated.

Wesley ran out of the room with an angry expression.

Tawni looked at Bethany. "Are you serious? That was God?"

"A projection of Him." Bethany shrugged. "We call them messengers."

She and Leanna went back to their seats. They slipped headsets over their ears and began to type. Apparently, the conversation had ended.

Tawni was left feeling bewildered. The Creator of the universe had just made a personal appearance, and these people were reacting as if it happened every day. Was the world going insane? Was she?

* * *

Aaron walked into the small, brightly lit police interview room. The smell of body odor made him wrinkle his nose.

Ted Cobby, a.k.a. the Handyman, was sitting on a metal chair. His hair was tangled, and his black beard bulged in odd directions. His pale face was long and thin. He wore a stained, green uniform with the name "Clear Path" embroidered on it. Flame tattoos covered the backs of his hands.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Aaron sat on a chair across from Cobby. A dented and scratched table separated them.

"Special Agent Kerns," Aaron said. "FBI."

Out of the corner of his eye, he checked a mirror on the wall. It was actually one-way glass, and Smythe and Odelia were standing behind it in a dark room. Aaron couldn't see them.

"What do you want?" Cobby said.

"I have some questions."

"I'm not telling you shit. I'm still waiting for my phone call."

"Do you want to use my phone?" Aaron took out his thick gray phone.

"No, I want to use
mine
. The cops took it."

"What's the number?" Aaron held his finger over the buttons. "I'll dial for you."

Cobby glared at him.

Aaron put his phone on the table. "Does the name Nonsectarians mean anything to you?"

Cobby tried to hide his reaction, but Aaron still saw shock on his face. "No," Cobby said in a tight voice.

"I know you're one of them."

"Who told you?"

Aaron smiled a little. "Do you expect me to answer that? What about carrier wave generators?"

"What was your name again?" Cobby said. "Kerns? You're a dead man."

"I don't feel dead."

"You will be."

"Ooh, scary," Aaron said. "Let me get right to the point. If you don't cooperate, I'll make sure you do hard prison time."