The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6)

by Siegel, Alex

  Aaron and Wesley were already seated in the room. The new arrivals found chairs around the huge table.

  "Wait," Aaron said. "The twins are finishing up some research for me. Let's give them a few minutes."

  Everybody settled back in their chairs. Tawni realized she was hungry. She hadn't really checked out the kitchen, yet. That would be her next stop after the meeting.

  "I have a question for you," Odelia said to Wesley. "Let's say you had to kill Carlos. How would you do it?"

  Tawni leaned forward with interest. The same question had occurred to her.

  "I don't know." The boy shook his head.

  "There must be some way," Odelia said. "He's not completely invulnerable."

  "He can be damaged, but then he just goes away and regenerates."

  "How long does that take?"

  "Not very long," Wesley said. "Five or ten minutes."

  "That's something at least. What's the best way to damage him?"

  "His skin is like dry cowhide. A hot fire will burn him."

  "An incendiary?" she said.

  He nodded. "Or a bomb blast. But don't miss. The last thing you want to do is make Carlos angry. He has a temper."

  "What about the rest of the protection team?"

  "Yvonne and Atalanta are tough to kill, but a big gun will do it. I'd use a .50 caliber rifle or an RPG. Charles is vulnerable to normal weapons, if you can see him."

  Tawni wondered why Wesley was being so open with this information. He really must not like those guys, she thought. She also wondered what made Yvonne and Atalanta so "tough." What did Wesley mean by "if you can see him?"

  Bethany and Leanna walked into the room. They still wore the white shirts and pleated red skirts that Tawni found childish and unattractive. They apparently didn't like to wear shoes.

  "Sorry we're late," Bethany said.

  The twins took their seats.

  "Let's hear your report," Aaron said.

  "Unfortunately, it won't be a long one, sir," Smythe said. "We gave the patient a very thorough examination and found nothing wrong. Odelia and I both looked hard. We picked a good subject to examine, too. I could tell he was affected as soon as I walked in the room."

  "How could you tell?"

  "His eyes didn't move naturally. His skin color and breathing indicated extreme anxiety."

  Tawni hadn't picked up those details. She needed to start paying more attention if she wanted to keep up with this team.

  "That's annoying," Aaron said.

  "I have blood samples," Smythe said, "but if Odelia couldn't detect anything with her gift, I doubt we'll have more luck in the laboratory. I'll perform the analysis anyway, sir."

  "Bethany, I hope you have better news."

  Bethany turned on the conference room computer. Monitors on a wall lit up.

  "Leanna and I tried to determine the precise boundaries of the phenomenon," she said. "We looked at every incident and found the home addresses of all the participants. We excluded typical background violence. A pattern emerged."

  A map of Chicago appeared on a monitor. Two red blobs were placed over the map, and they had clean, angular boundaries. One blob covered a big portion of the western side of the city, and the other was on the southern side. The borders followed the major streets in many places.

  Everybody studied the map for a moment. Tawni's home neighborhood was inside the western blob.

  "That's good work for a couple of scrawny geeks," she said.

  A gunshot made everybody in the room jump. Tawni looked over and saw Aaron holding a smoking pistol.

  "That was inappropriate," Aaron said. "Apologize to the ladies."

  She swallowed. "Apologize for what, sir? They work for me. I can call them what I want."

  "The first statement is true. The second is false. I'd never belittle a member of my team, and I expect everybody else to follow the same rule. All of us have earned the right to be treated with respect."

  "You don't respect me."

  "I recruited you, didn't I?" he said. "That's a high honor. I've spent months looking for somebody like you. And you're still alive despite misbehavior that would've gotten you killed if Ethel were still the commander. I couldn't be more respectful." He pointed the gun at her face. "Apologize."

  Tawni didn't doubt he would pull the trigger. His expression was murderous, and he was casting an unnaturally dark shadow. The effect was more than just a trick of the light.

  She faced the twins. "I'm sorry. I was trying to be funny. I guess it didn't come out that way. You're not geeks."

  "We accept your apology," Bethany said with a puzzled little frown.

  Aaron put away his gun. "This map is very interesting," he said. "It strongly suggests there is poison in the food or the water in those parts of the city."

  Tawni let out a sigh of relief.

  "I agree, sir," Odelia said. "Infectious diseases don't spread like that. Pollution in the air wouldn't be so well contained. I think somebody is specifically targeting those neighborhoods."

  "I want food and water samples collected today. Tawni and Norbert will take the western region. Smythe and Odelia will take the southern region. Try to cover as much ground as possible, but don't stay out late."

  "What about me?" Wesley said. "I want to go."

  Aaron looked at the boy. "I gave you a helicopter tour of Chicago this morning. Wasn't that enough excitement?"

  "No, sir. That wasn't work."

  "You're asking me to send you into an area we already know is dangerous."

  "Yes, sir." Wesley nodded eagerly.

  Aaron sighed and appeared weary. "Go with Smythe."

  "Thank you."

  Smythe and Odelia exchanged nervous glances.

  "Sir," Smythe said, "we're going to bring back a lot of material to analyze. Hundreds of unique samples. Our facilities here are limited. Really, it's just me and Kamal, and he's a physicist. It could take months of lab work to find what we're looking for, if we can find it at all. We don't have that much time."

  "That's a good point," Aaron said. "Let me think about it. The meeting is adjourned. We'll reconvene here at six o'clock tonight."

  Chapter Eight

  Aaron watched his team file out of the conference room. When they were gone, he sat alone. The weight of his responsibilities as a commander seemed particularly heavy right now. The riots in Chicago were already a crisis, and the investigation was getting little traction. He was still sending his people out on fishing expeditions instead of pursuing solid leads. Tawni and Wesley were adding layers of difficulty to an already messy situation.

  He had to make a call that he had hoped to avoid. He took out his phone and dialed Ethel's number.

  "Hello," she said in an abrupt tone. She wasn't a fan of small-talk.

  "I'm calling to report on the Wesley situation, ma'am," Aaron said. "I know you're interested."

  "Very."

  "It's not going well. I'm doing my best to keep him out of trouble, but he's not cooperating. His protection team is living in the hotel, and they're intruding in my business at inconvenient times. Charles has been demanding and rude. Carlos is... terrifying."

  "I wish I had some good advice to offer," Ethel said. "It sounds tough. I'll be happy to come there if you need me."

  "Not yet, ma'am, but I may accept your offer soon. I feel like I'm losing control of my own headquarters. I have another problem. We think somebody is poisoning thousands of people in Chicago. We're planning to collect a huge number of samples, but we don't have the resources or time to analyze them."

  "That's something I can help with. Ever since the carnival mission, I've been concerned about the Society's poor ability to detect exotic chemical and biological weapons. If our enemies are going to use them, we need to have that kind of analysis in our bag of tricks. When I became the legate, one of my first projects was filling that need."

  Aaron felt a ray of hope. "What did you do?"

  "I asked the cell in Atlanta to cre
ate a new laboratory that the entire division can share. It's staffed by scientists from the Centers for Disease Control. They believe the project is part of a top secret antiterrorism program. All of them are sworn to absolute secrecy. The lab just opened for business, and your samples sound like the perfect warm-up assignment. You should start getting results back very quickly. Call the commander in Atlanta for more information."

  "Thank you, ma'am. I'll do that right now. I should be able to deliver the samples tonight."

  "Is that all?" she said.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "I have total faith in you. I'm sure you're doing the best job possible. Bye."

  The call ended. Aaron wished he shared her confidence.

  * * *

  Smythe pointed at a building that was five stories tall and very wide. Pollution had stained the red bricks almost to black in places. Exposed concrete pillars added to the impression of a fortress that had been through a war. Wood covered all the windows, and grids of steel bars provided added security on the lower floors.

  "There it is," he said. "The Chicago headquarters that never was."

  "What do you mean?" Odelia said.

  "Aaron convinced Xavier this was our home. It was part of the trap that killed Xavier. We still own the building."

  "What are you going to do with it?"

  "We're cleaning it up," he said. "It was full of toxic waste when we bought it."

  Construction equipment and trailers occupied the parking lot beside the building. Men were going in and out through a back door. All of them wore gas masks, and most also had heavy rubber gloves and tall rubber boots.

  "Then what?" Odelia said.

  Smythe shrugged. "We're not sure. Aaron has a notion of constructing an emergency headquarters in the basement. He always likes having a backup plan ready, and this building is perfect for us. Now would be a good time to start a big project like that. The upper floors could be turned into condos. Let's keep moving."

  They were walking east on Cermak Road. A long time ago, heavy industry had occupied this part of Chicago. Most of the companies had left, but the big, ugly factory buildings had remained. Empty lots with weeds and loose litter filled some of the spaces in between.

  Wesley was a few paces in front. The boy wore a blue coat which was a little too heavy for the weather, but it covered a ballistic vest underneath. He was smiling, obviously happy to be outside and exploring the city on a nice, spring day. A light breeze teased his straight, brown hair. In direct sunlight, his transcendent beauty was hypnotic.

  Smythe and Odelia held hands as they followed him. Both adults carried red plastic coolers in their free hands. The coolers were full of ice and the many samples they had collected so far. The three of them had already walked several miles, and the coolers were starting to feel heavy. Odelia kept shifting hers from hand to hand but she wasn't complaining.

  Smythe glanced over his shoulder. He hadn't seen any hint that Wesley's protection team was following, but it wouldn't be a surprise. At least they were staying well out of sight.

  After walking another mile, Smythe started to see signs written in Chinese. Many of the pedestrians were Asian.

  "Oh, is this Chinatown?" Odelia said.

  "Yes, but don't get too excited. It's not as impressive as the one in Los Angeles."

  A long, two-story strip mall dominated the center of Chinatown. More than fifty stores occupied the closely packed, commercial spaces. The windows on the second floor were a variety of different shapes, a festive touch. Smythe couldn't even guess at the meaning of most of the signs.

  Odelia took the lead, and Smythe and Wesley followed. She walked along the store fronts and looked in through the windows. She grinned with delight at what she found.

  She went into a store that specialized in traditional Chinese clothing. Smythe frowned as he followed her inside. They were on an assignment and couldn't afford to waste time. He decided to give her five minutes.

  Most of the clothing made prominent use of the colors red and gold. He ran his fingers along the sleeve of an embroidered silk jacket for a woman. The workmanship was exquisite. Next to it was a blue dress showing dragons portrayed with golden thread.

  He noticed Wesley was grimacing and shaking his head.

  "What's wrong?" Smythe said.

  "The clerk. She needs my help."

  Smythe looked at the person behind the cash register. She was a young, Chinese woman in a cute pink dress. A jade clip held her hair back. She had a lost, sad expression on her face.

  "Then help her."

  "I don't want to," Wesley said. "I would have to use my gift."

  "You're being very selfish. Helping her wouldn't cost you anything, and it would improve her life dramatically."

  The boy ran out of the store. Smythe followed him to the sidewalk outside.

  "It's my gift!" Wesley said. "I should decide when to use it. I don't like to be forced."

  "Nobody is forcing you," Smythe said.

  "Destiny has me on a leash like a pet dog. It's trying to drag me back into the store right now. I can't get away from it no matter what I do. It's even worse than my protection team."

  There were tears on Wesley's cheeks. Smythe knelt down and gave him an awkward hug.

  "I still don't see what's so bad about helping that girl," Smythe said softly.

  "I've heard thousands of stories of sadness and pain. I don't want to hear another one."

  "Maybe her story is happy."

  Wesley shook his head. "It's not."

  Smythe gave him another hug.

  Odelia stepped out of the store with an elaborate tiara on her head. Red glass beads were strung across her forehead and hung around her ears. The design included golden flowers of all shapes. It made her look like a Chinese princess except for the white hair.

  "Do you like it? I think it's cute." She looked down at Smythe and Wesley. "What's wrong?"

  "The kid is having a hard time," Smythe said. "It seems that girl at the counter is in pain, and he's supposed to help her. He doesn't want to."

  She frowned and looked back. "Maybe I can talk to her."

  "No!" Wesley said. "You'll make it worse. Can we go, please? I need to get away."

  "Sure."

  Odelia quickly paid for the tiara with cash. The small team headed down the street at a brisk walk with Wesley in the lead. He was almost jogging.

  Smythe noticed a small grocery store and ushered everybody inside. Foreign spices tickled his nose as soon as he stepped through the door. He saw the foods he expected along with some that surprised him. The meat counter sold whole raw ducks, squids, and containers of fresh cow blood. The pasta section had noodles made from rice instead of wheat. There were jars of chili mixed with bamboo shoots.

  He and Odelia went shopping. They focused on fresh foods that were vulnerable to contamination. They weren't picky, and it took only a few minutes to fill up a cart. They paid and left the store with shopping bags in hand.

  The team wandered around for a while, looking for a place where they could work privately. They found a spot between some dumpsters that was out of public view.

  Smythe and Odelia opened their coolers. They contained latex gloves, ice, and many small plastic bags. Wearing gloves, the two scientists took samples of food and stored each in a separate bag. These were labeled with permanent markers to indicate their contents. The leftover food went into a dumpster.

  "Do you think we have enough?" Odelia said.

  Smythe considered his sample collection. The team had already made several stops during their long tour of the south side of Chicago. He had hundreds of samples, enough to almost fill the large cooler.

  "Let's turn back towards the car," he said. "Maybe we'll do one more stop on the way if we see a good one."

  "Hurry. My arm is about to fall off from carrying this cooler."

  He kissed her. "I'll carry both. My arms are fine."

  "They sure are." She caressed his biceps.

  *
* *

  Aaron sighted through the scope of his Walther P22 Target Pistol. The little gun felt like a toy in his big hands. He pulled the trigger. There was hardly any kick, and the gunshot was politely quiet. A tiny hole appeared in the center of a paper target at the far end of the range. At this distance it looked like a pinprick.

  It was a strange choice of weapon for him. Normally, he went for big bullets with ample stopping power. His strong arms allowed him to handle any caliber easily, and he enjoyed tearing sizable chunks of flesh from his enemies. Recently, he had started to rethink that approach. Ethel had used the humble Walther P22 as her primary gun for decades, and clearly, it had worked very well for her. He wanted to understand why.

  Aaron fired again. The second hole appeared an inch from the first. He pulled the trigger rapidly until the magazine was empty. When he was done, the holes in the target formed a smiley face three inches across.

  The .22 caliber bullets were so light, they were barely lethal. To get a quick kill, he would have to put a round through an eye socket. With a scope or a laser sight, he could do that easily. A suppressor would make the gunshots silent.

  Interesting, he thought.

  He put the gun back in its place on the shelf.

  He headed towards his office. With most of the team out collecting samples, headquarters was depressingly quiet. One of the unfortunate aspects of being a commander was that he was often stuck at home while everybody else was having fun.

  As he passed the computer room, he glanced through the door. The twins were nestled in the stretchy webbing of their workstations. Out of curiosity, he wandered over for a closer look.

  Bethany was staring at a display full of alien symbols. Aaron recognized the writing as "divine mathematics," and it was likely a message from God. Aaron wished he could read the smallest part of it.

  He was irritated that Bethany wasn't working on the riots investigation. In his mind, that task had precedence. People were dying on the streets of Chicago right now, and she was effectively ignoring the problem. Her special project with God could wait until the mission was over.