Deadly Weakness (Gray Spear Society)

by Siegel, Alex

  The main road into the camp appeared completely clear. Hanley didn't see any sentries, fences, or barricades. He saw no obvious signs of any security at all. As far as he could tell, he could walk right into camp without any trouble.

  He furrowed his brow in confusion. According to Xavier, the Gray Spear Society was extremely paranoid. They would never allow themselves to be so exposed to an attack.

  There was a large sign near the road. Hanley crept closer until he could make out the letters.

  "WARNING!" the sign read, "there are places ordinary men should never go. Things they shouldn't see. Roads they shouldn't travel. This is one of those roads. Death waits beyond this point."

  Hanley snorted. Was the sign a joke? He couldn't believe anybody would seriously post something like that.

  He turned around and started down the hill. He moved quicker now, crouching instead of crawling. There was less danger than he had feared.

  He reached the bottom a couple of minutes later. A long line of cars and trucks were parked on the side of the road, stretching into the darkness. The entire Special Missions Unit was here.

  Most of the men were already in full combat gear and were moving into attack formation. A few were still adjusting their ballistic vests and helmets. Everybody, FBI and military alike, carried assault rifles, side arms, grenades, and night vision goggles. It was hard to tell the two sides of the Unit apart, and it didn't really matter. All of them were capable warriors.

  Two M113 armored personnel carriers were parked on the road at the head of the line. The metal beasts would lead the charge into the camp after the bombardment ended. The engines were already running, and dirty diesel smoke spewed from the tailpipes.

  Hanley walked over to a clearing where the mortar teams were getting ready. There were ten tubes, each serviced by a team of three soldiers. Twenty rounds were stacked neatly behind each mortar. Each round was about fifteen inches long and sixty millimeters wide. They had a killing radius of ten meters from the point of impact.

  During his military career, Hanley had seen mortars used many times. He had never received formal training, but the principles were very simple. You just dropped a round in the tube and got out of the way. They fired at a very high angle, and distance was controlled by picking the right trajectory. The flatter the arc, the farther the round would go. These rounds had a maximum range of 2500 meters, but tonight they were shooting at a target merely 500 meters away.

  The gunners had their flashlights out. They were studying satellite photos and measuring distances carefully. This information was entered into handheld electronic gadgets to compute the correct angles. The gunners made it look like a precise science, but mortars were notoriously inaccurate. It usually took several tries to actually hit a specific target. Fortunately, they had plenty of ammunition.

  "Is everybody ready to go?" Hanley checked his watch. "We commence in fifteen minutes."

  "Yes, sir," some of the soldiers responded.

  Hanley went off in search of Colonel Rosecrans and found him giving final instructions to his men. Even though the colonel was the oldest member of the Unit, he still moved quickly and with purpose. He was certainly more mobile than Hanley with his bum knee.

  "There you are!" Rosecrans said. "I guess you finished your reconnaissance."

  "Yes," Hanley said. "We're in the right place."

  "I still don't know why you exposed yourself like that. The lookouts already gave us the same report."

  Hanley peered at the starry night sky. A helicopter was up there, but it was too high to be seen or heard. Two lookouts were watching the action from above with binoculars.

  "I had to be absolutely sure," Hanley said. "Before we start dropping bombs on something, I want to see it with my own eyes. I'll be held responsible if civilians get killed."

  "What did the security look like?"

  "It didn't look like anything, actually. I didn't see a single guard. I think the whole gang is in the main building, just like my contact promised. His intelligence continues to be good."

  "Then it should be a quick and easy battle," Rosecrans said.

  "Maybe a little too easy."

  "Not everything has to be hard. The enemy screwed up this time, and we're taking advantage."

  Hanley nodded. "I hope you're right. We'll know soon." He checked his watch again. "In twelve minutes to be specific."

  * * *

  Aaron watched the crowd in the dining room from a back corner. He was trying to count heads to see who was missing, but with everybody still milling around, an accurate count was impossible. One thing was clear though: the guests were in a good mood. Last night they had treated each other with quiet suspicion. A day later, they were laughing like old friends at a reunion. Aaron overheard snippets of conversation, and it seemed everybody was talking about the tournament.

  Ethel entered the room. She carried a wooden box wrapped with iron straps, which she placed on her table. Guthrum followed a few paces behind. Everybody else immediately found seats and settled down.

  Ethel faced the assemblage and said, "We had a great tournament today. I think just about everybody enjoyed themselves. I certainly did. As promised, I have a special trophy for the victor. Hammer, come forward."

  Hammer stood and walked over. He didn't look quite as intimidating in his formal robes.

  "In the old days," she said, "the legates had a tradition of wearing crowns as part of their formal attire. Each of the seven divisions had a unique and symbolic crown. They were even said to have magical powers. Eventually, this tradition faded. I think God didn't like us pretending to be kings and queens. He prefers a more humble style of leadership."

  She opened the box and carefully took out a crown. It was made primarily of some kind of polished gray metal. Images of swords and shields were drawn with intricate gold inlay. Black diamonds decorated the points of the crown and formed a ring around the base.

  "This is the crown of North America," she said. "It hasn't been worn since the Civil War. It was just gathering dust in my office, so I decided to use it for a trophy. It's a priceless relic from a very different time. Great quantities of blood have been shed over this crown. There will never be another like it. Keep it safe."

  She gave the crown to Hammer. He had a stunned expression, and Aaron was equally astonished. He hadn't even known a crown like that existed.

  "Let's eat!" Ethel announced.

  The assistants immediately brought in platters of food from the kitchen. It was going to be a feast.

  Aaron turned to Marina, who was standing beside him. She was frowning.

  "Something wrong?"

  "Yeah," she said. "I feel like I have a bull's eye on my forehead. I hate just waiting for the enemy to make the first move, especially when we're not sure what that move will be. If your trick doesn't work, we will be seriously fucked."

  "Have a little faith." He put a hand on her shoulder.

  "Don't act like Mr. Infallible. I've seen you make plenty of mistakes. And this commander gig is still pretty new for you, sir."

  "Sounds like you're still bitter about me getting promoted ahead of you."

  "I understand why it happened," she said. "I've made my peace with it."

  Aaron gave her a quick kiss. Marina made a face.

  He finally realized who was missing from the party. It was Xavier. Aaron walked over to Sampson.

  "Where is your boss?"

  Sampson looked up at Aaron. "He's resting in our room, sir. He isn't feeling well."

  "Oh, that's a shame. He's going to miss a lot of great food."

  "He wouldn't eat it anyway," Sampson said. "His stomach is bothering him."

  Aaron was an expert at reading body language, and Sampson wasn't acting like a liar. Even if his statements weren't true, he seemed to believe them.

  "Maybe I should send our two fine healers to check on him," Aaron said. "We want to be sure the illness isn't serious."

  "I think rest is all he needs," Samps
on said. "He didn't seem that sick, actually. Maybe he just didn't want to get too far from a toilet."

  Aaron's phone rang. He checked the caller ID and saw Norbert's numeric identifier.

  "Excuse me," Aaron said.

  He opened his phone and walked quickly towards a quiet corner of the dining room.

  "Sir?" Norbert said.

  "I'm here," Aaron said.

  "We just noticed something strange. Xavier is hiding in the woods."

  Aaron started to smile. "How deep in the woods?"

  "Maybe two hundred yards from your position. Deep enough he has to watch out for traps."

  "That's extremely useful information. Thank you."

  "Why is he hiding in the woods, sir?" Norbert said.

  "Clearly, he doesn't want to get killed."

  "And why is he worried about that?"

  "Just keep watching your monitors. Shouldn't be long now." Aaron crossed his arms.

  About a minute later, Norbert yelled, "Sir! Sir! Camp Zonta is under attack!"

  "You mean the real Camp Zonta, not the fake one we're using for the convention."

  "Yes, sir! The other camp is being destroyed."

  "Describe what you're seeing," Aaron said.

  "Bombs. Lots of bombs. It looks like an artillery barrage."

  "Impressive." Aaron listened carefully but didn't hear any bombs. The real Camp Zonta was twenty miles away.

  In a calmer tone, Norbert said, "Sir, I'm getting the impression this attack didn't come as a great surprise."

  "Why do you think we went to so much trouble to disguise our true location? Can you guess what the secret mission is now? The facts are right in front of you."

  Norbert answered after a pause. "Xavier is a traitor!"

  "Indeed. He just tried to kill us all."

  "But that's impossible! I can't believe it. Why would one of our own commanders want to destroy the entire division?"

  "That's the next question we have to answer. Focus all your attention on Xavier from now on. Get as much background information as possible. I want to know where he's been and who he's been talking to. Find out what kind of man he really is. His treachery is the true reason for this convention."

  "Yes, sir!" Norbert said. "A lot of things are starting to make sense now. That was a very nice trick, sir. Only you would think of using two camps and messing with the tracking system."

  "It was the only way to get him to reveal himself."

  "Sir," Bethany said, or maybe it was Leanna. "Xavier made a phone call this morning. He didn't use his regular phone."

  Aaron raised his eyebrows. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

  "Norbert didn't believe the information was interesting."

  Aaron sighed. "OK. I'll let that go. Do you know who he called?"

  "An FBI agent named Race Hanley," Bethany said. "I did a little research on my own because I was curious. He's the chief of the FBI Special Missions Unit. It's a secret anti-terrorism group."

  "How big is it?"

  "Give me a moment."

  Aaron heard rapid typing. He had never met faster typists than the twins.

  "Last year's fiscal budget was ninety-five million dollars," Bethany said.

  "Pretty big, then," he said. "Can you locate Hanley right now?"

  "We have his phone number. If he's carrying his phone, we can locate it. Hold on, sir." There was more typing. "He's just outside Camp Zonta! The Special Missions Unit must have something to do with the attack."

  "Bethany, I want you to work on Xavier. Leanna, you work on Hanley. Give me his complete background, from the day he was born forward. This is wonderful! I could kiss you both. I have to talk to Ethel. Bye."

  Aaron closed his phone and waved to Marina to get her attention. Aaron and Marina converged on Ethel's table.

  He checked to make sure nobody could overhear. "It's Xavier," he said softly.

  Ethel's face fell. Her crushing disappointment was obvious. Until this instant, Xavier had been one of the most senior and most respected commanders in the Society.

  She stood and started walking. "Come."

  She, Aaron, Marina, and Guthrum found an empty classroom on the other side of the building. Guthrum stood by the door and kept an eye on the hallway.

  "The other camp is under attack right now," Aaron said. "Norbert told me it looked like an artillery barrage. What do you want to do, ma'am?"

  "We need questions answered," Ethel said. "Why did Xavier do it? Who else is involved? Who are his co-conspirators? How deep does the rot go? He'll never break under torture, so there's no point in capturing him until we're ready to kill him. In the meantime, we just have to observe and investigate discreetly."

  "I already have Bethany gathering information on Xavier."

  "Tell her to be very careful. If he becomes aware that we've identified him as the traitor, he'll run. He needs to believe that nothing has changed. Aaron, I want you to get close to him. Talk to him. But don't make him suspicious."

  Aaron nodded. "I know exactly what to do, ma'am."

  "Don't tell anybody else about this. Xavier might have hidden allies in the Society. I'll pick who to include in this investigation based on my judgment. I want to get a few more commanders involved. The more eyes we have on Xavier, the better."

  "I have more information. Xavier is working with a man named Race Hanley, the chief of the FBI Special Missions Unit. Apparently, that group is attacking Camp Zonta. They might think we're terrorists. Leanna is already doing a background search."

  She cracked a slight smile. "It's been a very productive evening. Congratulations on the successful execution of a brilliant plan."

  "Thank you, ma'am." He bobbed his head.

  "Marina, capture Mr. Hanley. I wish to speak with him tonight. He'll have a lot of useful information for us. Put together a small team to help you."

  "Who should I take?" Marina said.

  "Any of the legionnaires," Ethel said, "except for Sampson, of course. Your choice."

  "What about Hammer, Jennifer, and Jermaine? I can't do much better than that."

  "Hammer is the man of the hour. His absence would be noted."

  "Oh." Marina furrowed her brow. "Then I'll take Smythe. I'll feel better with my own guy anyway."

  "Then you'll have to take Odelia instead of Jennifer. Otherwise, Odelia will ask where her lover is."

  "But she's just a healer."

  "She's a highly skilled and experienced legionnaire," Ethel said. "God doesn't give such powerful gifts to rookies. She won't disappoint you."

  "Yes, ma'am." Marina nodded.

  "Leanna will tell you where to find Hanley," Aaron said, "and what kind of opposition to expect."

  "Aaron and I will meet you later tonight," Ethel said, "Hold Hanley until then. I will personally extract the information we need."

  Aaron frowned.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I'm thinking about various scenarios," he said. "This guy might prove useful to us down the road. Let's treat him nicely."

  "But he's our enemy," Ethel said.

  "All we know for certain is that Xavier is our enemy. Hanley might simply be misled. I recommend we take him as quietly as possible. Just a simple kidnapping in the middle of the night. That would keep all our options open and reduce the chance of Xavier discovering what's going on. As you already stated, we need to be discreet. Xavier is no fool. It's your call. What do you want to do, ma'am?"

  "Your argument is sound. Marina, do as Aaron suggests."

  "Yes, ma'am," Marina said.

  "Quietly gather your team and go now. I'm sorry, but you'll miss dinner."

  Marina nodded and left.

  Aaron and Ethel looked at each other for a moment.

  "This is strange territory," he said. "We're letting a traitor walk around as a free man."

  "Only for a little while. I'm very concerned about the Houston cell. Xavier could've turned his entire team against the Society. I'll fly down there on Monday and begin a very t
horough assessment of the situation. It won't be pleasant. I'll have to act as their commander until I'm confident all of them can be trusted. That could take months." Her shoulders fell. "This is the life of the legate. Always flying from one miserable situation to another. Always cleaning up after disasters. Always causing terror."

  He had never seen her look so beat down. He considered giving her a hug, but it didn't seem appropriate. One didn't touch the legatus legionis without an explicit invitation.

  "Won't Xavier object to you running his team?" Aaron said.

  "He'll never see his team again." She sighed. "Come on. Let's get back to the banquet before we're missed."

  He followed her out.

  Chapter Ten

  Hanley listened as the last of the mortars exploded in the distance. It was finally time to begin the ground assault.

  He looked to confirm the Unit was ready. The men had formed a column six wide, which was the most that could easily walk side by side on the narrow dirt road. The two M113's would lead the charge, and each carrier held ten more men. Everybody wore full battle gear. It was a cold night, but heavy winter camouflage and body armor kept the soldiers warm.

  Hanley couldn't walk far with his bad knee, so he would ride in the second carrier. He started in that direction when his phone rang. Irritated at the delay, he checked the caller ID. It was Xavier.

  Hanley answered, "What? Can it wait? I was about to send in my men."

  "It's 7:20," Xavier said. "Where is that air strike you promised?"

  "What do you mean? We just bombed the shit out of the camp with mortars. Our lookouts reported the main building is completely flattened. Many other buildings are also destroyed or on fire."

  "I didn't hear a thing."

  "You must be too far away," Hanley said. "We shot two hundred high explosive rounds."

  "I'm not far at all. In fact, I can see the camp from my position. It's fine. Not a stick out of place. The only smoke is from the chimney. You incompetent assholes destroyed the wrong target!"