by Alex Siegel
He turned around and looked at Erika. She was taking a quick nap on her brass bed in anticipation of a long and possibly sleepless night. Three of her slaves had been sent off to their tiny bedrooms. The fourth was lying on the floor with his eyes open and his tongue hanging out. She had strangled him using her belt a short while ago.
"Erika!" Walker yelled. "Wake up."
Erika's eyes opened, and she sat up. She blinked sleepily at him. "Is it time?"
"Not yet, but the enemy isn't following our schedule. They took out the scouts and a battalion headquarters. I think we have to make our move now."
"Are we ready?"
"No, but right now we're completely blind. We have to engage the enemy and pin them down quickly to prevent more trouble. We have to cut through the fog of war, and the best way is to actually fight them."
"How many of our soldiers are available on such short notice?" Erika said.
"I think I can get four thousand troops involved," Walker said, "along with fifteen attack helicopters, twenty tanks, and some other armored vehicles."
"That seems like it should be enough. The tanks can't shoot directly at the hotel though. Our benefactor was very clear about that. Small arms only when you get close."
He nodded. "Then I have your permission to commence open hostilities?"
"Yes." She gestured with her hand. "Begin."
* * *
Aaron was standing over Perry's shoulder and staring at his computer screens. One display showed a detailed map of the Chicago area. Red dots marked the known locations of military units. At some point those dots would converge on the hotel. Aaron was trying to imagine the routes they would take and how to block them.
Perry was typing at a rapid pace with a headset over his ears. He was wearing a black Kevlar vest over a gray sweat suit even though the vest probably wasn't very comfortable. Brand new running shoes were on his feet, and a backpack full of emergency supplies was near at hand. He was concerned about his personal safety these days.
"Sir," Perry said, "we're suddenly seeing a lot of traffic on the military communications channels. Something big is happening."
"What about the Red Eye radios we tapped?"
"Them, too. Do you want to listen?" Perry took off his headset and offered it to Aaron.
Aaron slipped the big, padded earphones over his head.
He heard a male voice say, "We've identified the source of the cannibal plague. It is the Rosemont Tower Hotel near O'Hare Airport. I repeat. The cannibal plague is originating from the Rosemont Tower Hotel in Rosemont. All units, prepare to attack that location. Battalion 708, proceed to the intersection of West Touhy Avenue and River Road immediately. Battalion 314, proceed to the intersection of South Dee Road and East Devon Avenue..."
Aaron returned the headset to Perry. "They're blaming us for the cannibal plague. It's an obvious lie. I should've guessed. A lot of company will be here soon."
"What are we going to do, sir?" Perry's face was white.
"First of all, don't panic." Aaron patted Perry on the shoulder. "Military operations don't happen the instant some general gives the order. I would say we have at least a half-hour before the shooting starts. That's plenty of time to get our ducks in a row."
Aaron took out his phone and called Leonardo.
"Sir?" Leonardo said.
"What's your status?"
"We wiped out the first target. We're returning to the buses now."
"You pissed off the enemy," Aaron said. "They're launching a major attack, and I may need you to get involved. Park your buses along Interstate 294 and leave the engines running. Be ready to move the instant I call."
"What about the hotel?" Leonardo said.
"Don't worry. The hotel can take care of itself. Bye." Aaron hung up and called Marina. "Where are you?"
"Just about to intercept the supply convoy," she said.
"The war is heating up. After you take the convoy, hustle back here as fast as you can. The twins need to get the hell out of here."
"Got it."
"I love you, wife," he said.
"And I love you, husband. I'll see you soon."
Aaron clipped his phone to his belt.
He left his office and walked out to where the twins were working. It was a big, open space, originally designated for exercise. Now it was full of high-tech trash. Discarded equipment, tangled wires, and packing materials were strewn across the floor. The frantic effort to pack up the project had left a complete mess behind. He sighed with disapproval at the sorry state of his headquarters.
Bethany was still picking over what was left like a scavenger. She was walking through the room and putting small items into a box.
"Where is Leanna?" Aaron said.
"In the lobby," she said.
"It's strange not seeing you two together."
"I'll join her in a few minutes, sir."
"You'll be leaving very soon," he said. "Earlier, I mentioned I would need a big distraction to cover your escape. Did you figure something out?"
She looked up at him, and her black, translucent eyeballs gleamed. "We had a conversation with God about it. He agreed to perform an intervention just this once. He wants to be sure we're safe."
"What sort of intervention?"
"Have you ever heard of thundersnow?" She smiled.
* * *
Marina was hiding in the woods. It was a beautiful setting for a battle. The Forest Preserve District of Cook County was a strip of native forest to the west of Chicago. Dense, urban areas bordered the Preserve on all sides, but one could easily forget that fact inside the forest. Tall trees crowded together, and even though they had no leaves, they were still lovely. A thick blanket of fresh snow covered the uneven ground. Animal tracks marked the snow in spots. It was very quiet.
She was watching a road that cut through the forest. One of her buses was parked across the road, blocking it completely. The motor was still running, and the headlights were on. She didn't want the bus to get cold.
Marina wasn't cold. Her thick body armor and the padding underneath provided plenty of insulation. God's breath was also burning in her guts like a furnace. The Lord was angry tonight.
She glanced to her left and right. A long line of legionnaires was also waiting in the dark woods, ready to attack. She had picked out true freaks and monsters for this assignment. Many were elite members of the Society and had legendary reputations. Some of the legates' bodyguards were here. She wasn't quite sure how the battle would go, but she knew it would be over quickly.
She spotted a line of giant, green trucks coming down the road. They had eight wheels each and looked capable of transporting very heavy loads. The cabs had angled faces unlike civilian trucks. Piles of crates were stacked high behind the cabs. The big diesel engines could be heard from far away. Raised exhaust pipes blew smoke into the night.
Ten trucks were travelling in a caravan. The line of vehicles squealed to a stop as it approached the bus blocking the road. Soldiers in heavy coats climbed out.
All the legionnaires surged forward at once. Marina had her knives in her hands and a grin on her face.
She barely had time to cut a single throat before the fight was over. There were just a few screams of terror and pain. Her people yelled "clear" to signal they were done killing.
She walked along the line of trucks to inspect the carnage and make sure no legionnaires were hurt. Ice on the road forced her to step cautiously. She saw some very interesting dead bodies. One soldier's guts had exploded as if a grenade had gone off inside his stomach. Another had a black spike driven through his skull, and the spike seemed made of an organic material. A third soldier had literally fallen to pieces. Organs, bones, and muscles formed a wet, steaming pile on the road.
Marina took out her phone and called Aaron.
"How did the fight go?" he said.
"It's over. No casualties. We're coming in."
"We're ready for you. Hurry."
Chapter Tw
elve
Ethel looked up at the sign for the Lame Duck Tavern in Harrisburg. A crude wooden carving showed a duck with a brown body and a green head. It was holding one leg in the air.
The tavern itself struck her as similarly lame. The walls were made of corrugated metal painted green, and they reminded her of a shipping container. Short, dusty windows had neon signs behind them. The awnings were covered with tree bark.
"Funky," Tawni commented.
Ethel checked her team to make sure they were ready. Everybody had changed into civilian clothes. Atalanta was wearing a loose shirt and baggy jeans to provide space for hidden weapons. Tawni had a nice purple sweater made of yarn and a long, black skirt. Boreas was dressed like a trucker with the obligatory baseball cap. Ethel disliked such informal attire, so she was wearing a gray business suit. Sunglasses covered her unnatural eyes.
She led the team through a red door with a circular window. The interior of the tavern was poorly lit by fixtures with bare bulbs. Cheap, wooden paneling covered the walls. A bar ran along the left side with an impressive collection of liquor bottles behind it. The padding on the bar stools was cracked and splitting.
Only a few old men were drinking at the bar. A larger, younger, and livelier group was at the back of the room. They were seated at circular tables made of varnished wood. Mugs of beer covered the tables, and most of the mugs were empty. The gathering consisted exclusively of white men. They were telling stories and laughing loudly.
"That must be them." Ethel pointed.
"Let me handle this, ma'am," Boreas said.
"Why?"
"Because I look like one of them. They'll open up to me. This is a public bar full of civilians. I'd rather not repeat what happened at Coolidge Manor. But it's your decision, ma'am."
She frowned. "You're right. Go ahead. The rest of us will hang back and watch for trouble."
With a smile on his face, Boreas went to the boisterous group in the back. She couldn't hear the words clearly, but she could read the body language. The men were hesitant at first. Even though Boreas had the right skin color, he was still a stranger and somewhat older than the men. His huge, muscular body was very intimidating. When Boreas offered to buy drinks, they offered him a seat.
Ethel, Tawni, and Atalanta sat at the bar near the front door.
A bartender in a white shirt came over and said, "What would you ladies like to drink?"
Ethel asked for cranberry juice, Tawni wanted iced tea, and Atalanta only cared for water. As soon as the drinks arrived, Ethel paid in cash with a generous tip.
She kept one eye on the conversation in the back of the room. Boreas seemed to be doing a nice job of insinuating himself into the group. He roared with laughter after somebody made a comment. She remembered he had been a fine legionnaire for many years before becoming her bodyguard.
"This is taking too long," Atalanta muttered. "We've been at this for most of a day, and we've barely learned anything new."
"We're picking up clues," Ethel said. "The day hasn't been a failure. I should be the one complaining. My lover is in trouble. You can't even feel love."
Atalanta stared at the pockmarked surface of the bar. "That was cruel, ma'am."
"Sorry."
"God didn't remove my emotions. They're just well hidden. Wesley is helping me rediscover them. We have long conversations about feelings."
"Is it working?" Ethel asked.
"Not really. I have access to anger and impatience, but the softer emotions are out of reach. I barely understand friendship. Love is impossible for me, and that's the most important emotion of all."
Ethel sighed. God had hardened Atalanta's skin, bones, and heart. She was a pure warrior, fearless and focused in battle, but she wasn't good at much else. It didn't seem like a fair trade to Ethel.
"What are your thoughts about love?" she asked Tawni.
Tawni shook her head. "Every time I've loved a man, he turned out to be a lying, cheating asshole."
"But now you're with Sheryl."
"Yeah. She's not like that, and I guess I haven't treated her right." Tawni looked into the distance thoughtfully.
Ethel noticed a pudgy man in a black T-shirt standing near a back door. His thinning hair was a mixture of gray and brown. He was watching the group of rowdy, young men with an anxious expression.
Ethel grabbed her cranberry juice and walked over to him. "Hello," she said with a smile.
"Hi." He nodded to her politely.
"What's your name?"
"Cory. I own this bar. Why? Is there a problem?"
"No problem," she said. "You just seem a little uneasy."
Cory nodded towards the group in back. "It's those idiots. They're always getting into fights and wrecking the place. They buy a lot of drinks but also run up a lot of repair bills. I'm pretty sure I'm losing money on the deal. I'm just keeping an eye on them. Maybe I can stop the next fight before it gets expensive."
"Why do you let them in at all? It's your bar. You decide who drinks here."
"I can't kick them out." He shook his head. "They're buddies with Nathan Forrest. He comes here a few times a week."
"So?" Ethel said. "As far as I know, he's just a punk."
"Yeah, but his dad is Senator Forrest. You don't mess with that shit. I'd rather take a loss on broken tables and chairs."
"The senator is a dangerous man?"
"He made his money the old-fashioned way," Cory said, "by stepping on other people's throats. He practically bought his seat in the Senate. Nathan loves to brag about all the bodies his dear, old dad left behind on the way to the top."
"Hmm." She furrowed her brow. This senator was becoming more interesting to her. "I'm actually looking for Nathan. That's why I came here."
"Oh?" He turned to her. "Why? You don't seem like the kind of person he normally associates with."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Let's just say Nathan has committed a crime even dear, old dad won't be able to fix, and it's my job to bring him to justice. His days of busting up bars are over."
"You're a cop?" Cory said.
Ethel shrugged. "Sort of. I'd appreciate any information you might have."
"I'd like to help, but my customers don't usually keep me apprised about their whereabouts. I do know Nathan is a hunter. Sometimes he brings his rifles into the bar, which I don't appreciate. He owns some big guns. I'm not sure all of them are legal. I would guess he's on a mountain somewhere. If he's really in trouble, that's where he would hide."
"The Appalachian Mountains run from Pennsylvania down to the Blue Ridge Mountains, and those keep going all the way to the south. I need a more specific suggestion."
He grimaced. "Sorry."
She took out her wallet, pulled out a gray business card, and gave it to him. "If he shows up, call this number. I'll come back and fetch him. If you get any new information, feel free to call."
"He's going to jail?"
"That's right." She smiled.
Ethel walked off to a quiet corner and took out her phone. She dialed Todd, the hacker in Washington, DC.
"Ma'am?" he said.
"What are you up to?"
"Still trying to figure out who gave the order to shoot down your plane. We're getting closer. We'll hack every single computer in the Pentagon if we have to."
"I need you to do something quick for me," Ethel said. "Tell me about Senator Forrest."
"Yes, ma'am." She heard typing. "Bedford Forrest. Republican senator from Georgia. Sixty-five years old. He's chairman of the Select Committee on Intelligence and the Committee on Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs. A powerful man. Estimated net worth: 324 million dollars."
"How did he get his money?"
"Casinos," Todd said.
"I'm getting a strong impression he has a big part in this. A bunch of hillbilly white supremacists would never be able to kidnap the President on their own."
"The senator lives in Potomac, Maryland."
She yawned. "OK.
If we strike out here, we'll go there next."
Ethel hung up and went back to her spot at the bar.
"What was that about, ma'am?" Tawni said.
Ethel summarized her conversations with Cory and Todd.
"This conspiracy keeps getting bigger. It's like we're fighting a whole secret organization."
"Yes." Ethel stared at the bottles of liquor. "This situation reminds me of some passages in the tabella. The Gray Spear Society has encountered opposing organizations in the past. They served God's enemies, but in some ways, they were like us. They operated in complete secrecy to avoid detection. They didn't follow the usual rules. They had powerful allies in government and industry. Some members even had gifts."
"What happened to them?" Tawni said.
"We destroyed them all. At least, that's what it says in the tabella."
Ethel yawned again. The cannibal crisis had prevented her from getting enough sleep for the last few days, and she had rolled directly into the search for the President without a break. She was exhausted.
She looked at Boreas. Her bodyguard was still chatting with the idiots in the back of the room. She was impatient for him to finish.
After a few minutes, Boreas and another man stood up. The second man was medium height and had light brown hair. He was wearing a tan leather jacket with a deer logo on the breast. He had big shoulders but was a little overweight.
Boreas pointed directly at Tawni.
The other man came over to her and said, "That guy bet me a hundred bucks I couldn't kiss you."
"He did?" She raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah. So kiss me, bitch."
She shook her head. "I don't think so."
Boreas clearly mouthed the words, "Walk out."
"Women don't say 'no' to me," the man in the jacket said with a sneer.
Tawni stood up and walked out of the bar.
"Don't let that nigger whore get away," Boreas said, "or you'll owe me a hundred bucks!"
Hearing him use the "n" word was painful to Ethel's ears, but she understood it was an act.
The man in the jacket chased after Tawni. Boreas followed him out of the bar at a casual pace. Ethel and Atalanta followed Boreas in turn.