Deadly Weakness (Gray Spear Society)

by Siegel, Alex

  Xavier patted his pockets. "Oh, shit! I don't have my wallet. Somebody must've picked my pocket at the last rest stop!"

  "Sorry, sir. You can't stay here tonight." The clerk didn't appear very sorry.

  "Fuck. I guess I'll have to drive all the way home." Xavier grimaced. "I hope I don't fall asleep on the road and get killed."

  He went back to the car. He drove a short distance up the road and parked. Then, he hustled back to the motel. He wandered around until he found room eight. The door was locked, but his lock picks opened it quickly.

  It was dark inside the motel room but he didn't turn on the light. He looked at the bed for a moment. It was tempting. No, he thought. Too comfortable. Too risky.

  He lay down on the carpeted floor behind the bed, where he couldn't be seen from the window. Anybody peeking in would think nobody was in the room. He took off his bulkier weapons and shoes, but he kept his clothes on. His only concession to comfort was taking one of the pillows from the bed.

  He closed his eyes. Almost immediately, he fell asleep.

  * * *

  Hanley arrived at his office in FBI headquarters at seven in the morning. He intended to get an early start on what would certainly be a very long day of administrative drudgery and meetings.

  He was surprised to find his office door slightly open. The light inside was on. There was no reason for anybody to be in there.

  Silently, he pushed open the door. Hanley instantly recognized the man sitting alone inside. His picture was in every hallway in the building.

  "Director Felt!" Hanley said. "What are you doing in my office, sir? I wish I had known you were here. I wouldn't have kept you waiting."

  The FBI director was a short man with perfectly groomed, silver hair. He wore a sharp blue business suit that fitted him perfectly. Wire rim glasses gave him an academic air.

  "I have a few questions. Sit."

  Hanley sat behind his desk. It had metal legs and a plastic top made to look like wood.

  "What questions, sir?" Hanley said.

  Felt glanced at the door, which was closed. "Tell me about Ms. Pickenpaugh." He spoke the name very quietly.

  Eyes like black holes, Hanley thought. A creature made of shadows, miracles, and death.

  A loud knock on the door surprised him. "I'm in a private meeting!" he called. "Come back later!"

  The door opened, and a man with curly brown hair and brown eyes entered. His face was round and a little puffy, but that was the only puffy thing about him. He was in tremendous physical condition. He wore a gray business suit that looked even more expensive than Director Felt's.

  "I'd rather come now," he said calmly.

  "Who the hell are you?" Hanley said.

  "Ms. Pickenpaugh sent me."

  Felt stared at the newcomer as if he were an alien with green skin.

  The mysterious man closed the door. "I'll just listen to the conversation. Pretend I'm not in the room, please. You can talk freely. I'm very good at keeping secrets." He stood in the corner.

  Hanley wasn't sure how to deal with the situation. His brain was still sluggish this early in the morning. He hadn't even had his usual cup of coffee.

  Felt stood up. "I should go."

  "Don't," the man said. "I want to hear what you were about to say. Ms. Pickenpaugh is expecting a report from me."

  Felt sat down again. His face was pale.

  Hanley couldn't believe the FBI director was taking orders from a complete stranger. At some point in the last two days, the world had gone crazy.

  "He asked me about Ms. Pickenpaugh," Hanley said. "I was about to tell him I can't really answer the question. I'm not allowed. Sorry, sir."

  "I understand." Felt frowned. "She has a reputation as the ultimate string puller, but you're the only person I know who actually met her. I was dying of curiosity."

  "Does she live up to that reputation? Does she get things done?"

  Felt nodded. "It's like she's a secret branch of the government, but I don't know how she does it. She never asks for money. She doesn't have any lobbyists. I don't know who works for her." He glanced at the man standing in the corner.

  "Does she ask you for favors?" Hanley said.

  "Just a little information, now and then, or a bit of influence. Easy stuff. She never asks for anything risky, and she always pays me back by taking care of a problem for me."

  "What kind of problem?"

  Felt shifted on his chair. "Sometimes, the FBI discovers criminal activity at a high level. Sometimes, it involves elected officials that can shut us down if we get too close. I'd rather not get into specifics. Let's just say Ms. Pickenpaugh is not constrained by politics or the legal process in her pursuit of justice."

  "Then she's one of the good guys?"

  "You tell me. You met her."

  Hanley settled back in his chair. "I think she is." He stared at his desk as he pondered the question.

  Felt looked at the man in the corner. "Can I go?"

  "Sure." He nodded.

  Felt hurried out of the room and closed the door.

  The stranger walked over and shook Hanley's hand. "I'm Norbert." Norbert sat on the chair the director had used.

  "What are you doing in my office, Norbert?" Hanley said.

  "Aaron sent me to keep an eye on you. I work for him. He felt you needed watching. It's also a fun outing for me. I was stuck in Chicago during the convention, so he let me take this field trip as a reward for being a good sport."

  "I don't need watching."

  "Your opinion is irrelevant," Norbert said, "and to be honest, Aaron is absolutely right. You have no training. You don't know what you're doing."

  "That's not true," Hanley said. "The Navy trained me, and so did the FBI."

  "We deal with a different class of adversary than the Navy or the FBI."

  "Maybe. The legate mentioned some kind of war. It sounded a little crazy, but I wasn't going to argue with her."

  "I'll try to explain." Norbert leaned back in his chair. "God has a plan. When that plan is going well, His presence is invisible and His influence is very subtle. But He has enemies who are always looking for ways to disrupt the plan. That's when He has to take a more active role. Even then, He tries to work through special intermediaries. The Gray Spear Society exists to provide a kinder, gentler alternative to divine intervention. We fight His enemies for Him."

  "It still sounds crazy. What's wrong with divine intervention?"

  "My best guess is the universe is like a delicate, finely tuned machine. When God sticks His hand into the mechanism, something usually breaks."

  Hanley raised his eyebrows.

  "Eight months ago, I saw divine intervention first hand," Norbert said. "The Lord turned an entire Army base into a field of lava. A lot of men and women died. I'm sure many of them were completely innocent. That's exactly the sort of outcome we try to avoid."

  "Give me a break. I would've heard about something like that."

  "Look it up. It happened near Springfield, Illinois. You may have to dig a little because it wasn't well publicized."

  Hanley turned to the computer on his desk. He ran several internet searches without getting a hit. He eventually found an FBI case file that described the incident.

  "It says here the cause was a major weapons malfunction."

  Norbert shook his head. "It was an extremely pissed off deity. I almost soiled myself."

  "I don't believe you actually saw God."

  "It's one of the perks of being in the Society. You get to meet your Boss occasionally. I've had three divine encounters so far. Marina told me she's had more than a dozen. And the legate is practically buddies with the Big Guy. How do you think she got those eyes?"

  Hanley frowned. He had seen enough that he couldn't easily dismiss Norbert's claims.

  "Do you have a magical power, too?" Hanley said.

  "Me? No." Norbert shrugged. "Most people in the Society are normal, more or less. We call them gifts, not magical powe
rs, by the way. They are given by God to those He favors."

  "All the people I met Saturday night certainly weren't normal."

  "The legate runs with a special crowd. You should feel proud she gave you a personal interview."

  Hanley wasn't sure how to feel. "What's your background? Military? You look like you could be a soldier."

  "I was a Catholic monk."

  "Huh?" Hanley stared at Norbert. "Aaron mentioned something about that at the meeting. A brotherhood?"

  "The Brotherhood of the Luciferian Child. I was the field commander. At one point I had a hundred and fifty men reporting to me. The Brotherhood was created to kill a single child: Wesley."

  "Why?"

  "We believed he was the son of the devil," Norbert said. "I later found out this information had come from one of God's enemies. We were deceived. The Society was given the task of protecting Wesley from us."

  Hanley furrowed his brow. "You lost some guys in Maryland Heights, Missouri, didn't you?"

  "That was just the last of several disastrous battles. The entire Order was wiped out in the end. I'm the only survivor."

  "That's tough." Hanley looked down. He felt real sympathy for Norbert.

  "The same thing almost happened to you Saturday night. I watched your attack through the surveillance cameras. If you had sent your entire Unit into the camp, all your men would be dead now. I'm sure it seemed like a minor decision at the time, but it was the most important one you made that night. Anybody who went down that road was doomed to die."

  "Except for me."

  "You just had a different kind of death," Norbert said.

  Hanley nodded. "Where is Wesley now?"

  "He's travelling incognito. He has a very special team of personal bodyguards, some of the toughest, nastiest Spears in the world. Those guys make all the people you met Saturday night look like wimps."

  "Wesley must be an important kid."

  "Extremely. Oh, this is yours." Norbert fished a gray cardboard box out of his coat pocket.

  Hanley took the box, opened it, and found a large gray phone inside. "The legate had one of these." He hefted the heavy phone.

  "It's a standard Society phone. You're required to carry it at all times and in all conditions. It's waterproof and shockproof, so you can take it anywhere, and you will."

  Hanley opened the cover. There was a large display and a standard keypad. Aside from the size and weight, it didn't seem unusual.

  "What can it do?"

  "Save your life," Norbert said. "It has three kinds of position tracking and a navigation system. There's an emergency beacon. It works with every cellular network in the world. A full week of battery life. A high resolution camera. If you call another member of the Society on that phone, your connection will be absolutely secure. And if somebody tries to open the case, they'll be very sorry. Read the manual, then burn it."

  Hanley took a paper manual out of the box. "I assume I don't have to pay the phone bill."

  "No. Aaron's, Marina's, and my number are already programmed into your phone. Call any of us if you need something."

  Hanley put the phone on his desk.

  Norbert gave him a white envelope. "And here is some money."

  Hanley found a short stack of hundred dollar bills in the envelope. There were also two credit cards and a check book.

  He held up the credit cards. "These have the wrong name."

  "Your first cover identity. Those cards will never be denied, and those checks will never bounce. Spend what you need to spend and no more. We always keep a low profile."

  "Do I have to fill out expense reports?"

  "Aaron will see the bills," Norbert said. "If he doesn't like a purchase, he'll let you know, but don't worry about it. The expense would have to be completely ridiculous before he'd care. Our next topic is Xavier. Did you see the most wanted list this morning?"

  Hanley went to his computer again. The FBI website had a list of the ten most wanted criminals. Xavier was at the top of the list. The name underneath the picture was wrong, but the mustache was as identifiable as a fingerprint. According to the description, he had raped two sisters and then killed the entire family.

  "He escaped?" Hanley said.

  "Yes," Norbert said. "It's a little embarrassing. The Society is getting the word out to our contacts in every police department on the continent. If Xavier gets pulled over for a broken tail light, we'll hear about it. Of course, we also have our own people searching for him."

  "I'm glad I'm not him."

  "Aaron thinks he'll call you."

  "Why would he do that?" Hanley raised his eyebrows. "He knows I can't help him now."

  Norbert shrugged. "If Aaron thinks it will happen, it probably will. Your job is to just play dumb. Pretend to buy whatever story Xavier tells you." Norbert checked his watch and stood up. "We need to get going."

  "To where?"

  "We're taking a private jet to the Fremont County Airport in Colorado. Then we'll drive to the ADX Florence prison. The legate gave me a message to deliver in person to the survivors from San Francisco, and she wants you to be there."

  "I can't!" Hanley said. "I have a whole day of meetings planned. It will take me hours just to crawl through my e-mail. That's why I got here so early. Besides, I don't want to face those guys after what I did to them."

  Norbert drew back. "Did you hear me? The legate wants you to be there."

  Hanley opened his mouth.

  "Wait," Norbert said. "Before you speak, consider this. If you ignore her order, I'll be obligated to kill you right now."

  "You'd shoot me in FBI headquarters?"

  "Sure." Norbert nodded. "But I'd feel bad about it. You seem like a nice guy."

  Hanley blinked at him. "Then I guess I'm going. I hope it's a nice jet."

  "It will be."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aaron ate his breakfast in the dining hall. Only a scattering of people still remained at the convention. Marina and all her squads had taken off last night to search for Xavier. Many of the commanders had asked to be taken to the airport a little later. Only a dozen remained, and they would be boarding a shuttle in half an hour. They were squeezing in a last meal and another conversation with their new friends before heading home.

  Aaron sat alone at his table. He was enjoying the feeling of satisfaction after a successful weekend. Except for Xavier's escape, everything had gone according to plan. The only death was Sampson's. Aaron had even discovered a promising new recruit. On balance, the good far outweighed the bad.

  He was also enjoying his food. It was just eggs, bacon, and toast, but it tasted good and he was hungry.

  "Mind if I join you?"

  Aaron looked up at Yule. As always, the man's giant cat eyes startled Aaron. There was something truly monstrous about them.

  "Please," Aaron said. "Actually, I was going to look for you in a few minutes."

  Smythe and Odelia were eating at another table. They kept glancing at Aaron and Yule, and then looking away quickly.

  Yule sat down. "I assume we want to talk about the same thing." He nodded towards Smythe and Odelia.

  "Indeed."

  "Let me speak first," Yule said. "Being dead was an enlightening experience."

  "I bet," Aaron said.

  "For a moment, God allowed me to see the universe in the proper perspective."

  "What does that mean?"

  "I saw what is significant instead of just what is," Yule said. "The normal stars disappeared. When I looked at the sky, I saw points of light where life exists on other planets. It's out there, and there's quite a bit of it. When I looked at the Earth, I was almost blinded by the glare. There is so much intelligent life here. This planet is a beacon that can be seen across the universe. It may be a dust speck in astronomical terms, but it's one of the most important objects in all existence."

  "Interesting."

  Yule leaned forward. "And it's not just the people that glowed. The relationships between
them were even brighter. Love, friendship, loyalty, faith. It looked like a net binding humanity together and stretching up to God. It was beautiful..."

  He closed his eyes and squeezed out a few tears. His shoulders shook but he remained quiet. Aaron waited patiently for Yule to settle down.

  Finally, he continued, "God's message was clear. Human relationships are the most precious thing. That's what He cares about. Love is particularly important." He took a breath. "It's essential that you maintain your relationship with Marina. Doing so may be very difficult. You're both commanders now, so you won't have much time for each other. Find a way to make it work, even if it means taking some risks."

  "I'll take that advice seriously," Aaron said.

  "It's not my advice. I'm delivering a message. The love between Smythe and Odelia is even more special. It transcends the boundaries of creation. It was strong enough to reach through the veil of death and pull me back."

  "Hey, I helped, too. People keep forgetting that."

  Yule smiled. "I didn't forget. Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  "Smythe and Odelia meeting each other could be the most important event of this weekend. One day those two could change the world. In the meantime, it's our responsibility to protect their relationship. We have to find ways to let them be together."

  Aaron nodded. "I'm not going to argue. I was planning to make the same proposal to you. But there's a small issue named the legate. She won't approve. She wants the cells to stay isolated from each other."

  "Too much of God's wrath has flowed through her veins," Yule said. "Her soul is burned to a cinder. She has lost the ability to sympathize with human needs, and that's her weakness. Her speech last night was misguided."

  "That's a bold statement." Aaron raised his eyebrows. "When she discovers what we're up to, you might have to say that to her face."

  Yule looked down. "I know, and I'll try to explain our intentions when that day comes. If she still doesn't understand, somebody will die. It may be her. The Lord doesn't have much use for a legate who won't permit love. We have to try to protect her from herself. Regardless, this is what must be."

  "Well, I know two people who won't be disappointed. Mind if I lay down the rules for this insanity?"