by Siegel, Alex
"I'll call him. All of us have to be ready to move on a moment's notice if the angels put on another show. I don't want to be so late next time. Maybe we'll take the helicopter and fly over the traffic."
Marina took out her phone and stepped away.
Yang looked over at Hanley and Katie. Yang was much more comfortable with them than with the commander. Hanley was as dedicated and professional as anybody Yang had ever met. Hanley also had a wide ranging background with civilian and military experience. He was the sort of guy Yang wouldn't mind following into battle.
Katie didn't have as much leadership ability, but she was still a great teammate. She was smart, talented, humble, brave, and amazingly observant. At times she tended to defer too much, but with a little encouragement, she always produced great ideas.
"What do you think is really going on with these angels?" Yang said.
Hanley shrugged. "Hard to say. Somebody is trying very hard to make a big splash."
"Is this a typical mission?"
"I don't know. This is only my fourth, and they've all been so different. Actually, this might not be a mission at all. Until we can prove an enemy of God is involved, we have to keep a low profile."
"Marina told me the same thing," Yang said. "It's unfortunate. We have all these amazing abilities, and we can't really use them most of the time. There is so much crime and evil in the world. The Society could make a huge difference."
"The Lord gave us these abilities for a specific purpose. If we abuse our privileges, very bad things happen. At least, that's what I'm told, and I have no reason to doubt it."
Min Ho called out from his workstation. "I have something! Come over!"
Marina and the three legionnaires rushed over.
"Look at this, ma'am." Min Ho pointed at his computer screen.
A website for a local televangelist was advertising a special sermon that evening. His name was Tim Taggart, and he claimed he had discerned the meaning of the angelic writing. He would reveal the secret wisdom to a live audience.
Marina furrowed her brow. "We need to have people there in case this guy is for real. All my legionnaires will go."
"But not you, ma'am?" Yang said.
"I'll join you when there is real killing to be done."
"It's not a cheap ticket, ma'am," Min Ho said. "A hundred dollars a person."
"Huh!" She snorted. "Secret wisdom is going up in price."
* * *
I don't fit in this crowd, Yang thought.
The Bay Area was famous for its ethnic diversity, and normally, gatherings were very mixed. The audience for Tim Taggart was skewed white and middle-aged. They were generally well dressed, and some men even wore a suit and tie. There were a lot of people, but they were quiet and well behaved.
The sermon would be delivered in Spartan Stadium in San Jose. The stadium was part of San Jose State University and had been built to host football games. Soccer teams and lacrosse teams also used the facility. Yang had read that it had a capacity of thirty thousand, and at a hundred bucks a pop, that was a lot of money in Taggart's pocket.
Yang looked up at the stadium. A grid of steel beams supported the seats. A few trees provided needed decoration for a building that was plain and utilitarian.
He checked to make sure he hadn't lost his team. Ipo, Katie, and Hanley were with Yang. They had dressed casually, but under their clothes, they carried a nice assortment of weapons. It was a cool December night, and Yang wished he had brought a jacket.
The Spears flowed with the crowd into the stadium. The box office had a "SOLD OUT" sign, but they had bought their tickets online and had printed them out. Ticket takers used a scanner to check the barcodes.
Vendors had booths in the concourse, but they weren't selling beer and snacks. Tim Taggart paraphernalia were the only items available. There were posters, CD's, books, DVD's, and T-shirts. Even the preacher's signature style of sunglasses was for sale.
"Ka-ching," Yang said.
The rest of the team nodded in agreement.
They walked down a tunnel and entered the stadium. It had a rectangular grass field exactly the right size for a football game. The white seating was tilted at a relatively shallow angle. Folding chairs had been placed on the field to allow even more paying worshippers to attend. The sun was setting, but plenty of floodlights turned night into day.
Tim Taggart was standing on a temporary stage at the south end of the field. A giant video board stood behind him, and a close-up of his face was on display. He was a handsome man with a round, well-tanned face. A full head of brown hair looked real despite him being in his 50's. He had shiny, steel sunglasses with rose-colored lenses.
The members of the audience found their assigned seats. The Spears were in the first row of the regular seating, but the people on the field were in front of them.
As soon as everybody was settled, Taggart began, "It is the greatest honor and privilege of my life to stand before this great assemblage of the faithful. The Lord has bestowed upon me the unique wisdom and insight needed to understand His message. I, alone, see the meaning in His divine script. I will share that message with all of you, but first, I must prepare your minds and souls. Listen carefully and open your hearts, please."
He took a breath. Yang had to admit the man had a fine voice, perfect for a preacher. Taggart delivered every word as if it were the most important ever. His passion was compelling even if it was an act.
"There is no better preparation than a reading from God's original message. Of course, I'm talking about the Bible. Job 28:28. And to man, He said, 'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; And to depart from evil is understanding....'"
Yang found himself losing interest already. He had grown up a Taoist and not a particularly devout one. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of Christianity jammed down his throat. He looked over at his teammates, and their expressions of impatience suggested they shared his feelings.
Taggart talked for a long time. He plugged his books and television show more than once, but he did it so smoothly, it sounded like part of the sermon. Yang sighed and squirmed on his hard seat like an antsy child.
Finally, Taggart got to the part everybody had been waiting for. "And while I was studying the holy symbols, inspiration struck me like a bolt from Heaven. Suddenly, I knew their meaning, and it is this. We are all dust in the end. None but the Lamb of God has the power to escape death's cold embrace, and it will happen sooner than we expect. Hear His message while you still have time. Attend worship. Read the scriptures. Too many people are walking down the dark path to Hell these days. The Lord sent a message so you would not be one of them. That's all."
He walked off the stage. The audience clapped loudly but didn't give him a standing ovation. Yang could see hints of disappointment on the faces around him. In the end, the secret message hadn't been worth the wait.
Ipo stood up. "Let's go have a conversation with him."
"What?" Yang said in surprise. "You think he'll just talk to us?"
"He'll definitely talk."
Ipo went down to the field and made a direct line towards Taggart. The crowd was coming the other way, but Ipo used his massive body like a bulldozer, eliciting many angry complaints. His teammates followed in his wake.
Ipo was one of the biggest, most muscular guys Yang had ever met. Yang actually felt like a midget in Ipo's presence. His family members were natives of Hawaii, and he had bronzed, Polynesian skin. His small ponytail was tied in a knot like a traditional Samurai warrior. He always had a stern expression as if contemplating his next move in battle.
Yang liked Ipo a lot. He was always sincere, and he never let anything interfere with his duty. He expressed himself with martial arts in a way that elevated fighting to a true art form. He was the most senior of the legionnaires, and the stories he told were incredible. Marina killed with passion, but Ipo's approach was much more disciplined. Yang hoped to achieve the same kind of pure warrior spirit someday.
/> Taggart was quickly walking towards a tunnel. Members of the audience were trying to talk to him or get an autograph, but he ignored them all. Three big bodyguards fended off fans who got too close. Taggart's entourage also included another man and two women. Yang had done his homework and recognized one of the women as Taggart's pretty, young wife. She could've been his daughter just as easily.
Ipo led the team through the tunnel. They followed Taggart to a small parking lot behind the stadium which was closed to the public. He went to a stretch limousine painted the same color as the lenses of his sunglasses.
"Katie," Ipo murmured, "block the vehicle. After we're in, take control of it and drive away."
Katie nodded. She ran in front of the limousine and stood in its way. It honked at her.
Ipo drew a gun from under his shirt and openly approached Taggart at a brisk jog. Hanley and Yang followed his lead.
"Freeze!" Ipo said. "Nobody move!"
Taggart and his entourage turned around. The wife screamed when she saw the guns.
"Get in the car!" Ipo pointed at Taggart. "The rest of you, back off!"
With his deep, rumbling voice and great size, Ipo was very intimidating. He hardly needed a gun to get his way. Yang wondered if he would actually shoot anybody who resisted.
Ipo, Hanley, and Yang swiftly separated Taggart from the rest of the group. The four of them entered the back of the limousine. At the same time, Katie used her own gun to get the driver out, and she took his place. Seconds later, she was driving away. Yang had never kidnapped anybody before, and he was glad this abduction had proceeded so smoothly.
He had never been in such a fancy limousine either. The interior was covered in red fabric, except the seats were pink. White LED lights on the ceiling formed a glowing crucifix. There was a sound system, a television, and a well-stocked bar. Tables could fold down to provide places to eat meals.
"What do you want?" Taggart said in a hysterical tone. "Money? You realize you're kidnapping a man of God! You'll go to Hell for this."
"Relax." Ipo put away his gun. "We just have a few questions."
Yang and Hanley also holstered their guns.
Taggart swallowed. "What questions?"
Yang was worried about the police. No doubt Taggart's friends had already called 911, and squad cars were on their way. The limousine wasn't inconspicuous. It was just a matter of time until the conversation was rudely interrupted. Yang hoped Katie had a plan in mind.
"Tell us about the inspiration that struck you like a bolt from Heaven," Ipo said. "Describe the experience in precise, scientific terms."
"Why?" Taggart said.
"I'm asking the questions here. Talk."
"Well, I, uh, was sitting at my desk, studying the scripture, like I always do when I have free time. An aide showed me pictures of the divine writing. I was immediately struck by their profound importance. Then I heard a choir of angels, and the meaning came to me."
"That's a lovely image," Ipo said, "but I think it's bullshit."
"How would you know? You weren't there."
"But I can guess what actually happened. You were hanging out with that hot little wife when 'inspiration' struck. You figured out a way to make a ton of money in a hurry. You knew you had to move fast before other hucksters had the same idea. You rented out the biggest space available on short notice, and you launched a quick-hit marketing campaign. It worked like a charm. You filled that stadium and took in millions of dollars. Your TV show will see a boost in ratings, too. Well done."
Taggart crossed his arms. "You have no proof, and it doesn't matter. I did nothing wrong. I brought the word of God to a lot of people tonight. I delivered a great sermon. You kidnapped me because you think I'm a fraud?"
"What about the money?"
"My ministry has a lot of expenses. I have to pay my employees, and some of them are family members. It's not a sin to run a business in a fiscally responsible manner."
"Really?" Ipo raised his eyebrows. "What if those angels were real? What if those messages actually were from God? You turned a miracle into a cash grab. Sounds like a sin to me. Who's going to Hell now?"
Taggart clenched his jaw.
Katie turned into a parking lot for a strip mall. She drove around the mall and stopped by the dumpsters in back. The limousine couldn't be seen from the street.
"Or what if the whole thing was a clever illusion?" Ipo said. "What if some very evil men created those symbols as part of a diabolical plan? They might not appreciate you stealing their act. You have no idea what you're messing with."
Taggart's eyes widened.
Ipo went on, "I need the truth. Did you have a genuine miraculous experience? Choose your answer carefully because if you lie to me, we'll find out. There isn't a cave deep enough or dark enough to hide you from us. There isn't a police officer who can protect you. It doesn't matter who you pay off. I will execute great vengeance upon you with furious rebukes."
The tone of his voice left no doubt about his sincerity. Even Yang was impressed.
After a long moment of thought, Taggart said, "It's possible your version of the story is more accurate than mine, but you still don't have any proof."
"God doesn't need proof. If I were you, I'd start listening to my own sermons. You can fool everybody for only so long. Let's go."
Ipo, Hanley, and Yang got out of the car, and Katie ran around to join her teammates. Yang heard a police siren in the distance. Everybody started walking at a quick pace.
"That was a waste of time," Yang said.
"False leads are part of the job," Hanley said. "Hopefully, by the time we get back to headquarters, Marina will have something productive for us to do."
* * *
Iris stared at her dinner plate. She was trying to decide which item to try next, but it was a tough choice. She had already eaten all the things she could easily identify. Now she was down to the mystery meats, and she wasn't even sure if they came from land or sea. She only knew they had been prepared in a traditional Japanese style. In other words, salt and wasabi were the only seasonings, and there wasn't even much of that.
She was eating at the Hinode Japanese Restaurant in San Francisco. The fantastic reputation of the place had driven her to try it. The service was "Koryori" style, which basically meant the chef served whatever he thought was good that day. The diners were passive victims of his culinary whims. Iris was starting to regret being so adventurous.
The entire restaurant had only ten seats, and they were at a bar. All the food was prepared right in front of the patrons. It was the perfect choice for a man who wanted to impress a woman. Iris had a man with her, but they weren't on a date. His name was Laurence, and he was her most trusted assistant and confident.
Iris turned to him. He was in his sixties, and only a few strands of white hair remained on his scalp. The bones in his gaunt face stood out. His white skin was parched and papery. He was wearing a black suit with a cape in a style that hadn't been fashionable for a hundred years. It was one of his many odd habits, but his skills more than compensated for his idiosyncrasies.
"What should I try next?" Iris said.
"I don't know, ma'am." Laurence looked over at her plate. "It's all so... interesting."
"Maybe we should just pay and get out of here. I want some real food."
"I was just thinking the same thing."
She asked for the check. The chef grunted and muttered in Japanese when he saw how much food was left on her plate.
While she waited for the check, she closed her eyes. She sent her consciousness across the city and settled in the mind of Walfred, the leader of the Warriors of Dagda. She looked out through his eyes.
He was also eating dinner. He and a large number of other men were enjoying an outdoor barbeque under the stars. Hunks of beef and pork were roasting over a bed of coals, and the meal looked more appetizing than the one Iris had just eaten. The men were all dressed in the subdued browns and greens of hunters.
/> A benefactor had given her the ability to temporarily borrow the eyes of others. Her power had some annoying restrictions though. She needed to establish a "lock" at close range first, and her spirit could travel thirty miles at the most. Despite these hurdles, it was an incredibly useful power, and she had leveraged it to create a far-flung criminal empire. She could effectively be in the room with her enemies, and they would never know.
Iris opened her eyes.
"See anything interesting, ma'am?" Laurence said.
"The Warriors are having a celebratory barbeque."
"They deserve it. I just read an interesting report about Taggart's sermon." He pointed to the display on his phone. "He made at least three million dollars."
"Not bad for a humble preacher," Iris said.
"What's even more interesting is what happened afterwards. A group of three armed men and a woman abducted him using his own car. They asked Taggart how he had decoded the writing, and then they let him go unharmed." Laurence leaned forward and whispered, "The Society?"
"It seems likely."
Iris was a Pythagorean, and they were mortal enemies of the Gray Spear Society. For security reasons, the Pythagoreans normally didn't tell anybody else about the Society. Word might get around, and if the Society heard, they would trace the information back to its source. Iris had confided in Laurence because she trusted him completely. He was very good at keeping secrets, and if he succumbed to the enemy, she was screwed regardless.
The check finally arrived. Laurence paid with a credit card, and they left.
Iris shivered a little in the cool air outside. December in San Francisco wasn't exactly cold, but it certainly wasn't warm. The temperature hovered in the region where it was always difficult to choose the right clothes. She was wearing a jacket over a dark red gown, and her legs had goose bumps.
She didn't have any bodyguards with her, and she was only lightly armed. If the Gray Spear Society discovered who she was, nobody would be able to save her from their wrath. She wasn't arrogant enough to think otherwise. Maintaining a very low profile was the only way to stay safe, and that meant walking around with hardly any protection at all. Laurence would be almost useless in a fight.