Apocalypse Cult (Gray Spear Society)

by Alex Siegel

  "Making a difference with people who are actually competent," she said in a quiet, tense voice.

  "The CIA likes to keep an eye on its ex-agents, especially dangerous ones like you. I need to know you aren't working for the wrong kind of people."

  She sneered. "As if you were the right kind of people?"

  "Mr. Glade." Green turned to Aaron. "You're the odd man out here. Disavowed cop. Private dick. What's your story?"

  Aaron ate sushi as he contemplated how he should respond. The fish was excellent, so fresh it hardly tasted like fish at all. His favorite was the soft-shelled crab.

  "I'm helping Marina make a difference," he said at last.

  "Wonderful," Green said. "You understand we could put both of you back in jail for a long time. We represent the government of the United States of America. When we ask questions, we expect answers."

  "Listen carefully," Marina said in a voice as cold as ice. "I know you're just doing your patriotic duty, so I'm going to give you fair warning. Get away from me now. Forget I exist. Go straight back to Washington, and tell those arrogant fuckers this fish got away. If you come after me...." She shook her head. "You've been warned. Good bye."

  She bumped into Aaron on the way out, almost knocking him out of his chair. She jogged out the front door, and he ran to keep up with her. He caught her in a parking lot around the side of the restaurant.

  Her body shook and tears ran from her eyes, but she made no noise as she stood there. He cautiously put his arms around her. She pushed him away at first, but eventually, she allowed him to hold her. Her face was warm and wet against his chest.

  Mr. Green and Mr. Blue came around the corner.

  "We can't let you go," Green said.

  Marina growled and launched herself at them. A knife taken from the restaurant dropped out of her sleeve and into her hand. The fight was on.

  The elegance of her movements mesmerized Aaron. He recognized Ethel's efficient technique, even though Marina lacked Ethel's supernatural speed. Marina didn't slash haphazardly like a lunatic. Every action flowed perfectly into the next as she savagely mutilated her opponents. They attempted to block her, but her attacks always found an opening. She was more than just good. She was a master knife fighter who had spent countless hours practicing.

  The fight ended seconds later with both men on the ground, blood gushing from their wounds. Marina finished them off by stabbing their throats.

  She ran off at a full sprint. Aaron worked hard to keep up with her, and it didn't take long before he was struggling to breathe. He realized he would have to spend a lot more time on the treadmill if he wanted to keep pace with his new partner.

  They finally came to a stop inside a parking structure. They crouched down behind a car so nobody could see them from the street.

  Marina immediately made a phone call. "We need a ride and clean clothes now." She closed her phone.

  Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, and Aaron was glad for that. He needed to catch his breath and think about all that had happened.

  After he settled down, he said, "Why did you kill those men?"

  "They knew our real names," she said. "It was a security breech. There was only one solution."

  "It wasn't personal?"

  "Well, maybe, but I did warn them. I tried to be fair."

  He shook his head. "You can't just go around killing people."

  "What do you think we do for a living?"

  Blood splatters marked her clothes, and there were a few drops on her face. Instead of exciting her, the fighting and running had actually calmed her down. Her expression showed contentment, if anything.

  "I recognize that look," she said. "You think I'm a maniac. But it's OK, really. I'm used to it."

  Her presence was like an exciting drug, one that he wanted to enjoy forever. Her killing the CIA agents had shocked him, but he could accept the possibility she had acted properly. He was still new to this game after all and didn't know the stakes. Or he might be giving her the benefit of the doubt simply because he was falling hopelessly in love with her.

  "I'll show you what I really think," he said. "Kiss me."

  "What?" she said.

  "Then I'll do it."

  He wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss on her lips. At first she was tense, but then she melted into him and returned the kiss with passion. They held each other for a long time.

  Finally, she pulled away and smiled. "You smoothy," she said. "You just want to get into my pants."

  "They're very nice pants...."

  She gave him a playful punch on the chin.

  "Seriously," he said, "you're not a maniac. I admire you greatly."

  "Sure."

  "Really. You're amazing. I've never seen anybody fight like that with a knife."

  "Thanks." She showed him a hesitant smile.

  Edward arrived a few minutes later in a generic white delivery van with no windows on the sides or back. He parked in a dark corner of the parking structure.

  "What's up?" He looked at the blood on Marina's clothes.

  "The CIA just talked to us," she said. "It didn't go well. We may be bugged."

  "Oh." He took fresh clothes out of the van and gave one set to each of them. "Strip down to your birthday suits and change into these."

  She walked around to the back of the van so she could have some privacy.

  "We heard you were in jail, sir," Edward said. "Ethel was planning to get you out first thing in the morning."

  Aaron nodded. "The CIA beat her to it. They told me all about Marina."

  "Not all about her. That woman has more stories than the Bible."

  "I can imagine."

  Edward glanced at the van and lowered his voice. "How is it going between you two?"

  "Fine," Aaron said. "Why?"

  "Just be careful with Marina, sir. Don't push her buttons. When she loses her temper, you really don't want to be around her."

  "How bad is her temper?"

  "Rip your nuts off and stuff them down your throat while she screams like a banshee bad."

  Aaron furrowed his brow. "Got it."

  Marina came back. Now she wore a drab gray jumpsuit and sandals.

  Aaron took his turn behind the van and changed into a similar jumpsuit. When he came out, Edward threw all the old clothes into a garbage can.

  "What about my wallet?" Aaron said. "My new credit cards? My fancy health club membership?"

  "Those belong to Dempster, and he's dead now," Marina said. "My Withers identity is also finished. A shame. I liked her."

  Everybody got into the van. Aaron had to sit on the floor in back because there was no third seat.

  "Take us home," Marina ordered.

  * * *

  Aaron sat at the kitchen table in headquarters as Yvonne served him breakfast. She had prepared a perfect omelet with cheese, onions, and green peppers. The dish reminded him of the early days of his failed marriage when his wife had still cared enough to cook for him.

  He yawned. He had slept in, but he still felt like he could use another few hours in bed.

  "Enjoy," Yvonne said.

  He took a bite of the omelet, and it tasted as good as it looked. "Excellent."

  "Thank you, sir."

  Ethel and Marina entered the kitchen and sat across from Aaron. Marina had circles under her eyes, and she had done a poor job of brushing her hair this morning.

  "Anybody else want breakfast?" Yvonne asked.

  "Sure." Marina nodded. "A full plate, please."

  "Just coffee for me," Ethel said.

  "Yes, ma'am," Yvonne said.

  Aaron ate his omelet quietly. He considered waiting until Marina also had her breakfast, but he didn't want to eat cold eggs. She didn't appear to mind.

  "Well," Ethel said, "I wouldn't call last night a complete catastrophe, but it was close."

  Aaron kept his eyes down. He hadn't made any mistakes that he knew about, so he didn't feel bad. The encounter with the DEA
and then the CIA had been bad luck, not incompetence.

  "The CIA will be pissed when they hear about the dead agents," he said.

  "I already talked to our cell in Washington. They'll do what they can to throw the CIA off the scent. They have plenty of reliable contacts in the agency. We shouldn't have a problem like this again."

  "That's good. Would you have killed those men, ma'am?"

  "Certainly," Ethel said. "We're in the middle of a top priority mission, and any distractions are intolerable. Besides, they knew too much. Marina made the right decisions. Actually, both of you performed well, and I think you might make a great team. I can already tell she prefers you to Victor."

  Marina smiled.

  "Where is Victor?" Aaron said.

  "Asleep," Ethel said. "He was out very late trying to dig up fresh leads by terrorizing the Chicago underworld. Without much success, I must add. But I do have some good news. The Washington cell also gave me the number of the phone Agent Hoskins carries. Edward can triangulate his position using the signal."

  Aaron grinned. "That's brilliant! We'll let Hoskins find the cult for us, and then we'll find him."

  "That's the general idea. Hoskins already left Chicago, so you'll have to catch up to him today. Edward and Victor will accompany you."

  "Edward?" Marina said. "But he's not qualified for field operations, ma'am."

  "You'll need his expertise to pinpoint Hoskins."

  Marina frowned.

  "Finish breakfast and get moving," Ethel said. "Pack a large van for an extended road trip. It might be days before you come back, so prepare for every contingency. Make sure you bring plenty of guns."

  Chapter Ten

  Aaron was riding shotgun literally. He sat in the passenger seat of a large delivery truck with a shotgun under the seat within easy reach.

  Victor was driving and had dressed the part of a delivery guy. He wore a blue jean jacket with artistically placed tobacco juice stains even though he didn't chew tobacco. His Chicago White Sox baseball cap was pulled down until it almost touched his mirrored sunglasses. A toothpick stuck out the side of his mouth. Except for his huge muscles, he looked completely authentic.

  They were cruising along a county highway that cut through central Illinois. Patches of woodland alternated with vast farms, which sometimes stretched from horizon to horizon. Minutes would pass when Aaron saw nothing but corn plants in all directions. Dead bug splatters decorated the windshield.

  "I've been meaning to ask," he said. "How often do you work out? It must be a lot."

  "Every day for a couple of hours at least," Victor said. "We train hard between missions. Very hard. You will, too. And just being in the Society makes you stronger over time."

  "How?"

  Victor moved his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. "It's called God's breath. Sometimes it feels like a tingle in your guts or a burning in your veins. That's the Lord super-charging our bodies for battle. It's why Ethel is still so damn tough even though she's getting old. You could be as strong as me in a few years... if you live that long."

  Aaron felt something in his guts, but maybe it was just the truck vibrating.

  "Do you mind telling me your story?"

  "I'm not a storyteller," Victor said.

  "We're going to work together for a long time. I should know what kind of man you are. You already know all about me."

  "That's fair, I guess." Victor took a deep breath. "I come from a very traditional Italian family."

  "Mafia?"

  "That's a shocking and offensive stereotype. But you're right. For three generations my family ran the 'family' business. I was going to replace my father as the boss some day. I had money, women, fast cars, all of it."

  "Did you do anything besides partying?" Aaron said.

  "I enforced obedience. I made sure the soldiers followed my father's orders."

  "How?"

  "Mostly with my fists," Victor said. "Sometimes I'd use a baseball bat or a gun. I had to deal with some real tough guys."

  Aaron could easily imagine Victor as a thug among thugs. His physical presence alone was intimidating, and his permanent scowl completed the persona.

  "Then what happened?"

  "I fell in love with a beautiful, amazing woman," Victor said. "She became pregnant with my son."

  Aaron had a cold feeling. He knew already this story would not end well.

  Victor looked at Aaron. "Do you believe God has a plan for all of us? Ethel always talks about a plan, but I'm not so sure."

  "I don't know," Aaron said. "Sometimes I think life is just a meat grinder. There's no good reason for anything."

  "Meat grinder... yeah, that's about right."

  Victor drove for a few minutes without talking. Aaron waited patiently for him to finish the story at his own pace.

  "After my wife was murdered along with my unborn child, I had a crisis of faith," Victor said. "I was so angry and confused, I betrayed my own father. I actually testified against him. I blamed him for her death, even though his enemies pulled the trigger. They were trying to hurt him by killing his daughter-in-law. Can you imagine? It was like being trapped in a nightmare, and I didn't know how to wake up."

  "I've never dealt with anything like that."

  "I was hiding in a cheap motel room when Ethel knocked on the door. I still don't know how she found me or even why. We talked all night, and when morning came, I was a Spear."

  "Quite a story," Aaron said. "I thought I had an interesting life, but compared to the rest of this team, I'm boring."

  "We don't recruit kids. New legionnaires like you must already have the essential skills needed for a real mission. And by the way, you're not boring. You were a Chicago cop long enough to get pretty dirty."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "We did our homework," Victor said. "You had a reputation as a guy with a very quick trigger finger and an aggressive approach to justice. Your nickname was Mr. Bodycount."

  Aaron cleared his throat anxiously. He could recall many bad choices that still made him hurt inside. The dead eyes of innocents he had accidently shot still haunted him late at night.

  "But I don't care about that," Victor said, "and neither does Ethel. Too quick is better than too slow."

  Aaron nodded. "That was quite a fight between you and her."

  "The bruises still hurt. Do you know the main reason why Ethel is our boss? Because she is so fucking scary, and that's coming from me. Just wait until you see her use those machetes. Then you'll understand what it really means to be a Spear, but enough chatter. We must be close to the target by now. Focus on the mission."

  Aaron took out his phone and called Marina. She was riding in the back of the truck with Edward, along with a ton of supplies and equipment. Even though she was just ten feet away, the phone was the only way to contact her.

  "How much longer?" Aaron said.

  "Five more miles," Marina said. "Stay alert. Hoskins is located very near the Smilin' Fish Campgrounds. According to the website, the campground is next to a lake with cabins and spaces for RVs. I called the manager, and he expects cash payments in advance."

  "Sounds like the perfect place for the cult to lay low."

  "Yes. Bye."

  He closed his phone and informed Victor of the situation.

  "I hate camping," Victor said. "Mosquitoes, bad water, and broken toilets that stink like shit. We'll also be caught between the cult and the DEA, not a comfortable place to be. On top of that, we're so far from headquarters that we're pretty much on our own."

  Aaron smiled to try to lighten the mood. "Between the four of us, I'm sure we'll be fine."

  Victor scowled.

  Aaron's phone rang, and he opened it. "Hello?"

  "This is Marina. Edward has an exact fix on Hoskins. His location is coming up on the right... now! What did you see?"

  "An old farmhouse. Painted red, but a lot of the paint has peeled off. All the windows are shuttered. No cars are visib
le."

  "That must be where the DEA is hiding."

  "Good spot for a stake-out," Aaron said. "The entrance to the campgrounds is right across the highway. Hoskins can see everybody coming and going."

  Victor kept driving at a constant speed. After a few more miles, he pulled into a rest stop.

  He and Aaron got out and went around to the back of the truck. Marina and Edward were already standing on the parking lot, their clothes soaked with sweat. The cargo area of the truck must've been miserably hot. Aaron felt guilty since the cab was nicely air-conditioned.

  "We need a plan," Aaron said.

  "Here are the priorities," Victor said. "First and foremost, capture Simon for interrogation. Second, gather intelligence about the cult. Determine what covert activities they're engaged in. If we kill a few while we're here, that's a bonus. Third, rescue Frank and Caroline Waters."

  To Aaron, the last objective was as mandatory as the others. "And do it while the DEA is watching," he added.

  "Yes. We'll start with some reconnaissance. I want to know what we're up against."

  "Hoskins knows my face and Marina's," Aaron said. "We can't let him see us."

  "We'll wear a disguise," Marina said.

  "What about me?" Edward said.

  "You can't go in with us." She shook her head. "Too dangerous. Find a hotel and stay there with the truck. If we need your help, we'll call."

  He nodded. "I'll be ready."

  "We'll enter the campgrounds in another vehicle, one we can abandon if necessary. An RV should do."

  * * *

  Aaron and Marina sat in the back of the recreational vehicle. The interior appeared to be made of wood and leather, but the wood laminate had broken off in spots, revealing decaying particle board underneath. The "leather" was just textured vinyl, and it had cracked in many places. Odd stains on the walls made Aaron wonder what sins the previous owners had committed in here. The air smelled of bleach, and the tiny toilet in back looked recently replaced.

  Marina was putting the final touches on her make-up. She wore a dark brown wig, and she had colored her eyebrows until they were almost black. An ugly, yellow dress covered padding that seemed to add forty pounds to her body. He felt bad for her since she would bake under all the foam in the summer heat. On the other hand, the dress offered plenty of room for weapons.