by Alex Siegel
"No."
"It was created after the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995," she said. "Our mission is to infiltrate and dismantle domestic terrorist organizations. Everything we do is classified, of course. Recently, we identified the Church of One Soul as a major threat."
"Why?"
"Simon wasn't just waiting for the Apocalypse. He was going to make it happen."
"But Simon is dead," Hoskins said, "according to you."
"That's not good enough," Marina said. "Most of his men are still out there, and we believe they'll carry out his plan. They were selling heroin to finance this scheme. We need to interrogate some of the people you arrested at the campgrounds. That's why we met you here at the jail."
"But I came because..."
"Because you received a message that one of your prisoners wants to confess. We sent that message."
He looked at her with wide open eyes. "Unbelievable. If you were a man, I'd say you had ten-pound balls. You actually want me to help you, when I should be arresting you instead? If not shooting you?"
"Hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent lives are at risk."
"I refuse to cooperate."
She furrowed her brow. "What would change your mind?"
"You could write out a full confession, signed with your real name." He nodded. "That would be a good start."
"I don't think so. You're worried about your career, right? We could find the drugs you need as evidence for your case. We'll help you be a hero instead of a goat."
He snorted. "I'll find my own evidence, thank you, and I'll do it legally."
Marina turned to Aaron. "Maybe you can get through to him."
Aaron looked at Hoskins, who just stared back with an openly hostile expression. Aaron didn't know what to say. He couldn't speak the truth, and Hoskins was too suspicious to believe a lie.
"Listen," Aaron said, "our interest is simple: stopping the terrorist attack. If you become an obstacle, we'll push you out of the way. On the other hand, if you cooperate, we can finish our business quickly and get out of your life forever. That would be the best outcome for you. All we want is to interview your prisoners. You can be in the room. Hell, you can even ask your own questions. Now, the sun is hot and I'm sweating my ass off, so can we please go inside?"
Hoskins remained silent.
Aaron glanced at Marina. She was rubbing her venomous fingernails. He wondered what she would do to Hoskins if he absolutely refused to cooperate.
"We're asking you to escort us into jail," Aaron said. "Do you really have a problem with that?"
Hoskins raised his eyebrows. "If you put it that way, I guess I don't. I'll take you inside right now. Of course, I can't promise you'll get back out." He smiled.
* * *
Aaron looked through a one-way window into a small interview room. Marina sat across a table from a man in a blue prison uniform, which looked like the scrubs a surgeon might wear. The green tattoos around his eyes and his shaved head marked him as a member of the Church of One Soul. He insisted everybody call him Brimstone, but his real name was Ron Phillips.
Aaron turned to Agent Hoskins. "Why him?"
"He seemed to be the closest thing to a leader of the ones we arrested," Hoskins said.
They were in a darkened room in the core section of Division 11. Two beefy prison guards stood directly behind Aaron with batons in their hands. The message was clear. If Hoskins gave the word, Aaron would also wear a blue prison uniform. The guards were superfluous. He couldn't escape anyway because there were too many locked doors between him and freedom.
"Tell me about Simon's 'Great Project,'" Marina said in the other room. Her voice came through a speaker.
Brimstone smiled. "All the people of the world will pass through a gateway of fire and blood. The corrupt and inefficient governments that currently rule over us will be razed. The wisdom of Simon will spread like a wind across the Earth, banishing all selfishness and critical thinking. Then, a new day for mankind will dawn. Like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly, we will be transformed!"
"What do you mean? Be more specific."
"There will be great destruction at first, but the old must be swept away to make room for the new. Of course, some people will be too weak or too dissolute to endure the trial. Not everybody will survive to see the glorious rebirth of man. Such is the unkind nature of violent transformation."
"But where will it start?" she said. "I need times and locations."
"That's a secret. You're not one of us."
She crossed her arms. "Why should I believe you?"
"The truth will be apparent soon enough."
"I think you're a lying sack of shit."
He slapped the steel table with the palms of his hands. "Don't test my patience, harlot. Beware."
"Beware of what?"
"You will be my servant when the new age comes." He pointed a finger at her face. "I will teach you hard lessons in respect until you eagerly satisfy my needs."
"When, exactly, will that happen?" She raised one eyebrow.
"Soon!"
"Next week? Next year? Next epoch? You're just babbling nonsense."
"Simon..." he began.
She cut him off. "Simon is a megalomaniac who wouldn't know a 'new day for mankind' even if it climbed up his ass."
He snarled.
Hoskins tapped Aaron on the shoulder and said, "Your girl better be careful. That guy might attack her."
Aaron shrugged. "She can protect herself."
"Maybe you should go in there."
"She'll be fine."
Hoskins frowned.
"And Simon is dead," Marina added.
Brimstone sneered. "That's a lie."
"You don't believe me?"
"He is destined to be supreme ruler of mankind for a hundred years."
"Supreme ruler of maggots, maybe." She chuckled.
He jumped forward with both hands reaching for her throat. She nimbly dodged his attack, grabbed his shoulder, and slammed his face into the steel table. Blood trickled from his nose.
"I told you she can protect herself," Aaron said calmly.
"Not bad," Hoskins muttered.
Brimstone held his injured nose. "Bitch."
"This is boring," Marina said. "If I wanted worthless doomsday prophesies, I could find a thousand on the internet."
"It's not a prophesy! It's a promise. Our men are at work right now."
"Whatever." She turned towards the one-way glass. "I'd be more convinced if you had one speck of evidence. Besides, as far as I can tell, nobody is working on anything. The entire cult was arrested at the campgrounds."
"Women and children. Useless baggage. Not the men. Not the soldiers."
"You were there."
"Simon needed a few shepherds to help manage his flock. Females can be so undisciplined."
She rubbed her black fingernails.
Aaron glanced at Hoskins. The government agent was pressing his lips together, and he appeared anxious.
"Your men were doing one kind of work," Marina said. "Dealing drugs."
"We live in a world of sin," Brimstone said. "To carry out the Great Work, Simon was forced to adopt some distasteful methods. He needed money for supplies and equipment."
"I think he pocketed all the money. Speaking of sin, I noticed he had a lot of young women at the campgrounds. I expect entertaining all those undisciplined females was expensive."
He clenched his jaw, and his face became flushed.
She turned back towards him. "The ancient kings had eunuchs to help manage their large harems. Was that your job? Did Simon cut off your balls so you wouldn't fuck his sluts? Did you pimp for him?"
He jumped out of his chair. She executed a beautiful spinning kick that caught him squarely on the cheek. Her technique was perfect. He stumbled backwards and fell to the concrete floor.
Two guards rushed into the room. She tried to make them back off by waving her hands.
"This is what I don't ge
t," she said calmly. "For years Simon fed you bullshit, and you slurped it up. You gave him your life and got nothing in return. Now you're in jail, facing serious charges, and you're still on his team. Is that loyalty or plain stupidity?"
Brimstone stood up. "I will be strong, as Simon taught me. I know in my heart you will pay. Simon takes care of me as his sheep. I will not be without any good thing. He makes a place for me in the green fields. He gives new life to my soul. He is my guide in the ways of righteousness. Though I go through the valley of death, I will have no fear of evil, for his rod and his support are my comfort. But blasphemy shall not be forgiven. The land of his enemies will be made desolate, so that they who settle in it will be appalled..."
The guards escorted Marina out of the interview room. A moment later, she entered the darkened room with Aaron and Hoskins.
"That was a waste of time," she said.
"At least he confirmed there is a threat," Aaron said. "Agent Hoskins, can we interview somebody else?"
Hoskins shook his head. "I've broken enough rules for one day, and I don't like your methods. We don't beat up prisoners here."
"Then may we examine Brimstone's possessions?" Marina asked.
"He didn't have much."
"I'd still like to see."
Hoskins shrugged. "Follow me."
Aaron noticed he now lacked the stubborn confidence he had shown outside the jail. Perhaps Hoskins was accepting the possibility that this case was much more than a drug bust.
They walked through the core of the jail which was a maze of concrete hallways. They arrived at the large section where prisoners went through the intake process. Guards watched attentively as new prisoners were stripped and searched.
Hoskins led the way into a huge room where personal possessions of prisoners were kept. Thousands of small boxes were stacked on seemingly endless shelves. A guard retrieved the box for Ron Phillips, a.k.a. Brimstone.
Marina opened the box, and Aaron looked over her shoulder. The box contained just two items: a wooden spoon and a book. The book was dark green, and it was entitled The Sacred Writings of Simon.
Aaron took the book, which was held together with staples and tape instead of glue. When he flipped it open, he found the print quality so poor some of the words were hard to read. Obviously, the book had been produced with a cheap photocopy machine.
"I'll have my technicians hide a tracking device in that book," Marina said.
"What good would that do?" Hoskins said.
"Then you can let Brimstone go. He'll go straight to his buddies, wherever they're hiding. He would never leave his 'Sacred Writings' behind. We can follow him and arrest the whole bunch."
"Seems like a bad idea."
Aaron sighed. He knew Marina had no intention of arresting anyone. In the war between God and His enemies, no prisoners would be taken.
"You have a better one?" Marina said. "This is your best chance to find the evidence you need to be a hero. You have nothing right now."
"Brimstone shot at us," Hoskins said. "He'll be convicted of attempted murder at least. I can't just let him go."
She crossed her arms. "His freedom will be temporary, I assure you. Let's hear your plan."
He glared at her.
"That's what I thought," she said. "Brimstone is just one fish. Let's use him as bait to catch a whole net full, and you might find some heroin in that net, too."
"Of course you're assuming I'll let you go. I should just keep both of you in this jail."
"Our office knows where we are. If we don't come back, they'll start making calls. We won't stay here for long."
He clenched his jaw.
"I've already escaped from you twice," she added. "You don't think I can do it a third time?"
"OK." He growled. "Maybe I'm the stupidest guy in the world, but I'll go along this one time. Take the book, but be back here tomorrow morning. I want to see both of you at 8 AM sharp."
"That won't be a problem."
Chapter Fourteen
Aaron and Marina arrived back at headquarters an hour later. They went straight to Ethel's office. She had a tall stack of newspapers on her granite desk, and she was reading one as Aaron walked in.
"Catching up on the news, ma'am?" he asked.
Ethel put down her paper. "Just looking for stories that might interest us. How did it go?"
"Not great," Marina said. "We caught Hoskins off guard, so he was moderately cooperative this time. We interrogated one prisoner but only confirmed what we already knew. We did get this, though." She held up the green book entitled Sacred Writings of Simon. "The plan is to plant a transmitter inside and return it to the prisoner. Hoskins will let him go, and we'll follow."
"You're going to meet Hoskins again?"
"Tomorrow morning, ma'am."
Ethel frowned. "His ongoing involvement is getting dangerous for him and us."
"I agree," Marina said. "He's a good man. I hope we can avoid the usual outcome in these situations. He may attempt to arrest us tomorrow, so we'll need an escape plan."
"I'll work on it. Take the book to Edward, and have him plant the transmitter. Aaron, please stay here."
Marina nodded and left the office.
Aaron sat on an antique wooden chair which was upholstered with padded leather. The seat was a little narrower than he preferred, made for a generation of smaller people.
"I thought you might have more questions for me," she said. "About the history of the Spears? Our purpose?"
"Yes, ma'am. Simon was communicating with an 'angel' called Sraosha, the thing that killed him in the hanger. What was it, really?"
She took a deep breath. "Let me ask you a question. If God created the universe, then clearly He isn't part of the universe. He exists outside our reality, so where is He?"
"What do you mean?"
"He must be somewhere, right?"
"I guess so." Aaron shrugged.
"We have different names for the place where God lives. Kamal calls it the 'pre-physical potential field.' Victor calls it the 'Land of Boogie-men.'"
"Is it Heaven, ma'am?"
"There aren't angels walking on white fluffy clouds," she said, "if that's what you mean. The laws of physics don't apply there. There is no time or space. Existence is a poorly defined concept. It's impossible for our tiny human brains to imagine such a place."
"Sraosha is out there with God?"
"Apparently."
"But why would Sraosha want to kill humans?" he asked. "That's like an elephant stepping on plankton. In the big universe, we're just a tiny blip."
"God has a great interest in humans. We're extremely significant for reasons I can only guess at. His enemies have been trying to destroy us for a long, long time."
"How long have the Spears been around?"
"What we call the Gray Spear Society was founded during the last gasps of the Roman Empire," Ethel said, "but there were previous organizations. Since the dawn of human civilization, there have been special people with a divine mandate to protect the Earth. Any more questions?"
"Yes, ma'am. How did you become so fast?" He leaned forward with curiosity.
"It was a gift from God. When a member of the Society serves the Lord very well, he or she sometimes receives a supernatural ability. That's how Marina got her fingernails."
"Will that happen to me?"
She sprang vertically out of her chair, flipped over her desk, and landed behind him.
She put a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps. Be patient. I had to wait six years, and Marina had to wait seven."
"How does it happen?" He looked up at her. "God comes down from wherever and blesses you?"
"It's not that cinematic. It usually happens at times of great need, when a mission is in jeopardy."
"What about your eyes? Are those a gift too?"
She shook her head. "My eyes are a side effect of my very long career. Being a Spear eats away at your humanity like a mouse gnawing at cheese. Eventually, the holes be
come physically obvious."
He swallowed. He looked around the office for a way to change the subject. The display cases were full of fascinating artifacts, and no doubt each had a story attached to it. He noticed an old golf club made with a real wooden shaft and a cast iron head. The wood was scorched along its entire length.
"What happened to that golf club, ma'am?"
She stood and walked over to the display case. She gently took out the club with both hands. With a smile, she pretended to strike an invisible golf ball.
"One of my predecessors owned this," she said. "He was the decurion of the Chicago cell in the mid-nineteenth century. He had the bright idea to run for mayor of Chicago. His political campaign was going very well until a certain golf game."
"What happened?" Aaron said.
"Struck by lightning four times under a clear, blue sky. According to witnesses, his eyeballs actually burst out of his skull."
"Yikes."
"The Spears are God's dirty secret. We aren't part of the plan. We must remain in the dark shadows and keep to ourselves, or He will punish us. Don't ever forget that."
"Yes, ma'am."
She put the golf club away. "Let's go check on Marina and Edward."
Aaron followed her to Edward's work room. He and Marina were leaning over a steel table under an array of bright lights. He had a large magnifying glass positioned over the green book, and small clamps held open the pages.
"Are you done?" Ethel asked.
He remained focused on his work. "Just about, ma'am."
Edward gently reassembled the book. He carefully inserted staples into their original holes and bent the ends into position. He sprayed small puffs of adhesive onto yellowed pieces of tape and put them back.
"You've done this before," Aaron stated.
"Yes, sir," Edward said.
He finished his work and handed the book to Ethel. She gently flipped through the pages.
"Excellent," she said. "No sign of tampering."
"The maximum range is only a kilometer, so we have to stay close."
She gave the book back to him, and he put it into a clear plastic bag.
"What are our orders, ma'am?" Marina asked Ethel. "We don't meet Hoskins until tomorrow."
"You and Aaron can take the rest of the day off," Ethel said. "Relax, and get a good night's sleep."