The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6) (7 page)

"That's the big question, isn't it?" He stood up and crossed his arms.

She snarled and squirmed. She heard a beeping noise.

He took a gray phone out of his pocket and put it against his ear. "Hello? Thanks." He put the phone away. "We're out of time, so I'll just give you the answer. It's because you're smart, strong, sexy, brave, and tough. You're a diamond in the rough, and I'm going to polish you until you shine."

He walked away and his two companions followed.

"Hey!" she yelled. "You can't just leave me like this!" She flopped around on the dock.

Aaron glanced over his shoulder. "Don't worry. Somebody will be along to free you quite soon."

The three strange men disappeared into the forest.

A minute later, a police car with flashing lights parked on the shore. Two cops got out and walked over to her. Their expressions showed surprise and amusement.

"Untie me," she said, "please."

One cop took a small piece of paper from his pocket and read, "Tawni Williams, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney..."

She screamed in frustration.

Chapter Three

Aaron entered his headquarters. The first door he passed was the science laboratory, and he peeked inside. Kamal had made a lot of progress on unpacking his equipment, but he was still only halfway through the huge project. He was fiddling with a microscope that had two eyepieces and an attached video monitor.

Aaron checked his watch. "It's eight o'clock at night. You've been at this for thirteen hours. Get some sleep."

Kamal turned to his commander. He had bloodshot eyes and a droopy expression. "But sir, what if we have a mission? What if I need to do some analysis?"

"Your mind is your most important piece of equipment. You're useless to me if you're too exhausted to think."

"Yes, sir." Kamal nodded. "I'll just finish this bit, and then I'll go home."

Aaron walked down a hallway and passed three more doors. A grinding sound drew him into the machine shop. Shelves covered the left wall, and they were full of every kind of hand tool imaginable. Impressive pieces of machinery filled the rest of the shop. Most of the equipment was painted dull green or gray, and thick power cords connected to outlets on the floor.

Nancy was bent over some equipment that had wheels and belts moving at dangerously high speed. It was making a terrible screeching noise. Bright yellow ear muffs protected her ears. A white bandage was wrapped around her hand, and it had fresh blood spots on it.

Aaron walked over and tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped in surprise and looked at him.

"What happened to you?" he yelled.

She turned off the machine. Her blue jean coveralls had even more stains than usual, and there was a splotch of black grease in her brown, frizzy hair.

"A minor argument with a pipe cutter," she said. "Dr. Smythe fixed me up. I'm fine now."

"Maybe you should go home before you hurt yourself again. You look worn out."

"I'm on security duty, sir. I have the ten o'clock shift."

Aaron frowned. "That was poor planning on my part. I'll take your shift. I have to go out one more time tonight, but I'll be back by ten."

"Your day was even longer than mine."

"But I don't plan on operating machinery that could cut off my hand. As soon as I get back, I want you to go home. In the meantime, be careful."

"Yes, sir," Nancy said.

Aaron headed to the computer room which was just to the left of his private suite. He walked through the open doorway.

Bethany and Leanna had completed the assembly of their ergonomic workstations. The chairs were fully reclined and made of soft stretchy webbing. Cushions held the occupant in the proper position without any strain. Keyboards and mice were on trays that could be locked in any orientation. Curved metal bars supported banks of computer monitors, and each workstation had a dozen screens.

The twins were nestled in their chairs. Their big eyes looked up at the many displays while their hands danced across exotic keyboards. Rapid keystrokes sounded like a sewing machine.

Wesley stood behind Bethany, his attention fixed on one of her monitors. Aaron walked over. The display showed hundreds of strange symbols arranged in geometric patterns.

"Do you actually know what that alien gibberish means?" Aaron said.

Wesley's sparkling blue eyes looked at him. "Not really. God wrote that gibberish. It's divine mathematics, and I can see the profound truth in it, even if I don't understand it."

Aaron took another hard look at the symbols. Ever since the twins had joined the Society, they had been working on a huge project with God. The eventual goal was to make some kind of improvement to the entire universe. The idea scared the hell out of Aaron. The twins seemed to know what they were doing, and God approved, so Aaron just tried not to think about it.

"I wish I understood any of it. I was never good at math. Too abstract."

"The twins are teaching me math," Wesley said. "I had my first lesson while you were out."

"You like math?" Aaron said.

"It's the purest form of truth. Charles taught me arithmetic but stopped at basic algebra. He couldn't go any further. That's all he knows."

"I imagine getting a good education on the road is tough."

Wesley nodded. "Why didn't you take me with you when you tested Tawni?"

"I didn't need you. Smythe and Norbert were more than sufficient for the job."

"But I wanted to go. It sounded fun."

"We're not in the entertainment business," Aaron said sternly. "You can have fun on your own time. Besides, none of us enjoyed tormenting Tawni."

Wesley pouted. "You can't just leave me here all the time."

Aaron sighed with annoyance. "We'll do something together tomorrow. I promise."
Now I sound like Wesley's father,
he thought.

"Something interesting."

Aaron glared at Wesley.

"Sir," Wesley added.

"I'll choose an appropriate activity which will make good use of your talents," Aaron said. "That's my job as your commander. Interesting isn't a criteria."

Wesley frowned.

The twins had continued to type during the entire conversation. When they were working, almost nothing could distract them. Aaron tapped lightly but persistently on Bethany's shoulder until she finally responded.

She looked at him. "Sir?"

"Norbert is down in the lobby," Aaron said. "He's waiting to take you home."

"Yes, sir." She climbed out of her chair. "There is another printout for you. We did a little more research on the protests."

He walked over to the printer and grabbed a short stack of papers.

Meanwhile, Leanna also stood up. She stretched her arms and showed off a body that had grown increasingly attractive as the months had passed. Norbert made sure the twins got plenty of exercise despite their persistent whining about it. He took very good care of them in every way.

Aaron looked at the papers. They were a complete history of the Chicago protests with all kinds of interesting details. The twins had even included helpful maps.

"This is excellent work, girls," he said, "as usual."

"Thank you, sir," Bethany said.

He scanned through the material. The protests had started five months ago with isolated cases of civil disobedience. Gradually, the size and frequency of the incidents had increased. One confrontation with the police a week ago had turned into a near riot and had left an apartment building in flames. The most peculiar aspect was the lack of consistent leadership. It seemed every protest had a different message and different voices, but the angry tone was always the same. Most of the activity was in the west and south sides of Chicago.

The twins left, and only Wesley remained with Aaron.

"I have to go out again," Aaron said. "Take a look at this stuff while I'm gone. Tell me what you think." He handed the papers to the boy.

"Where are you going, sir? Can I come?"

"I'm going to the Cook County Jail. Children are not permitted inside. I should be back in less than two hours."

Wesley sighed with obvious disappointment.

"Jack is in the security booth," Aaron said, "and you have my number. Call if there is any trouble while I'm gone. Norbert and Smythe are ten minutes away if you need them. Your protection team is downstairs. I know you don't like them, but if this place is attacked, that's your best option."

Wesley nodded. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Tawni sat in a small room with pale green walls and a single metal door. A fluorescent fixture provided bright bluish light. There was a large one-way window, and unfortunately, she was on the wrong side.

She looked down at her orange shirt and pants. The outfit made her look like a pumpkin. The clothes were cut to fit a man or a woman equally poorly, and she hated them. She despised everything about this place.

A man wearing a police uniform entered the room and sat across a table from her. He looked old for a cop in uniform. His short black hair was perfectly groomed, and his clothing had crisp creases. He carried a soft leather briefcase.

"Hello." He smiled. "I'm detective Jake Murphy. I'm in charge of your case."

He took a white notepad and a pen out of his briefcase. She glared at him.

"I'll take your official statement now," he said. "You can write it out, or you can dictate to me and just sign it. That would probably be better. I have good handwriting. If you want to call your lawyer first, I can make those arrangements."

"I don't have a lawyer. I can't afford one."

"Then let's begin. Describe how the Lake Street Vigilantes was formed." He held the pen above the paper expectantly.

"What time is it?" She furrowed her brow. "Isn't it late to be taking statements?"

He shrugged. "I like to work at night. Why? Are you tired?"

"No."

"Good. Go ahead."

She took a deep breath. "I have nothing to say."

"Ms. Williams, you stand accused of serious crimes. One of your victims lost a kidney, and another may be permanently crippled. Your statement will eventually be read to the jury at your trial. This is your opportunity to explain yourself. I strongly suggest you don't waste it."

She hadn't known about the injuries but didn't feel guilty. All of her "victims" had victims of their own.

"What's the point? I'm fucked. My lawyer will be a punk public defender who couldn't get me out of a speeding ticket. A black woman like me never gets justice in Chicago."

"That's a very poor attitude," the detective said. "I know you're not a regular criminal. You could make a pretty strong case for yourself in court. You'll be convicted, but you have a shot at a light sentence. You're young enough to build a new life after you get out of prison. It all starts with cooperating now."

Tawni wasn't as optimistic. She had seen the legal system grind up other people from her neighborhood. Minor convictions often turned into long prison terms. The system was stacked against her.

He put his notepad and pen away. "Your arraignment is tomorrow. I'll be there. You can make your statement to me afterwards if you want. Think about what you want to say." He stood up. "There is another man here to see you. A lawyer from the National Guard. Maybe he can get through to you." He left the room, and the door closed with a metallic clang.

A moment later, Aaron entered. She instinctively jumped up and tried to slug him in the jaw. He grabbed her arm, twisted her around, and thumped her face against the table. His grip was painfully strong.

"That was a warning," he whispered in her ear. "If you come at me again, I'll break something you don't want broken. Do you understand?"

She nodded. Her shoulder felt like it was about to dislocate.

"Are you calm now? Can we have a polite conversation?"

"Yes," she said through clenched teeth.

"Sit." He released her.

Rubbing her sore cheek, she sat down. "I hate you."

He wore a sharp gray business suit and a black tie. It looked perfectly tailored for his broad chest and chunky biceps. Polished, black shoes shined under the lights. It was difficult for her to admit, but he was a fine looking man.

He took a plastic eyepiece out of his pocket. He put it against the one-way window and looked through it, obviously peeking into the room beyond. He examined several locations.

Tawni cocked her head with puzzlement. "What are you doing?"

"Just making sure we can talk openly," Aaron said. "This isn't the best location for a sensitive conversation. I had to call in some favors so we could have privacy."

"What are we going to talk about?"

"Your future."

Finally, he sat down. For a long moment, he just stared at her, and she stared back. She refused to be intimidated.

"You're in a lot of trouble," he said.

"Thanks to you," she shot back.

"You were going to get caught regardless. I made a few calls to contacts on both sides of the law. Your short career as a vigilante irritated a lot of dangerous people. Even small-time crooks can have big-time friends. They intend to make an example out of you. A public, messy example. Being in jail won't save you, either. If I were a betting man, I'd say the over-under on your life expectancy is a week, maybe less. Don't worry about standing trial. You won't survive that long. Tell me I'm wrong."

She desperately wanted to argue with him, but he was correct. She had tried to ignore these inconvenient facts until now, but the reasonable tone in his voice made further denial impossible.

"Maybe," she muttered weakly.

"You have two choices. You can continue down the road you're on and hope for a miraculous rescue, or you can let me rescue you now."

"What the fuck can you do for me?"

He took out his phone and placed it on the table. It was very thick. The surface was made of a gray metal with a rainbow sheen, and there were no markings.

"This is a very special phone," he said. "It lets me talk to very special people. I can make your legal problems disappear. In fact, I can wipe out your criminal record entirely."