Grim Reflections (Gray Spear Society Book 9)
Page 18
Norbert was pushing a cart with three dead bodies piled on it. They looked like soldiers in green fatigues. Smythe was carrying a heavy garbage bag which clanked with each step. At least the vanquished heroes come bearing gifts, Aaron thought.
He pointed down the hallway. "Kitchen. Now."
He followed his sullen team back to the kitchen. The evidence was set aside. Ethel, Boreas, and Perry were already sitting down.
After everybody else found a seat, Aaron said, "What the hell happened out there?"
Smythe cleared his throat and gave a detailed report. Aaron glared at him the entire time. As the leader of the team, Smythe bore the most responsibility for Sheryl's capture. He should've done a better job of watching over her.
"You were careless," Aaron said. "You should've checked the perimeter before entering the house. A small army was waiting just out of sight."
"Yes, sir." Smythe stared at the glass table despondently.
"And now we're screwed. We don't know where Sheryl is or even if she's still alive. The overall mission has suffered a huge setback. We almost have to start from scratch. Meanwhile, the situation in the city is growing worse by the hour. Cannibals are running amok. The morgues are overflowing with half-eaten bodies. Police are shooting suspects on sight. The citizens are out of their minds with fear. The Army could show up at any minute and declare martial law. This is unacceptable!" Aaron pounded the table.
The legionnaires jumped a little.
He continued, "You're supposed to be the best there is. The Lord's personal hit men, an unstoppable force. Yet tonight you were ambushed like a bunch of grade A suckers. It's embarrassing. It's humiliating. I thought I trained you better. Were you even paying attention tonight?"
"Aaron," Ethel said, "calm down."
Aaron looked at her.
"A commander always demonstrates decorum," she said in a quiet voice. "Do it now."
With difficulty, he got his emotions under control. The legate was right. Verbally abusing his team wouldn't get them any closer to rescuing Sheryl.
"Does anybody have any constructive suggestions?" Aaron said.
"We brought some bodies, sir." Norbert nodded to the cart which was parked in the kitchen.
"We'll examine the evidence in a moment. I'm looking for ideas now, any ideas."
Nobody spoke. Unfortunately, Aaron didn't have any suggestions either. It seemed they had already explored all possible avenues of investigation.
"Perry," he said, "you've been pounding away on your computer all day. Tell me you have a lead, please."
Perry kept his eyes down. "No, sir. The gift baskets were the only common pattern I found."
"And the basket store is gone," Smythe said, "along with just about all the evidence."
Aaron walked over to take a closer look at the corpses. Their generic green fatigues could be purchased in any Army surplus store. He couldn't find any rank insignia. The soldiers had been shot, but they weren't dripping blood. They were ice cold.
"It's interesting," Ethel said.
Everybody looked at her.
"We sent in a full team of legionnaires," she said. "Actually, more than a full team because of Odelia. They were properly equipped for battle. There was no lack of training, skill, or talent. Three members of the team even have powerful gifts. It was a formidable force. Yet they lost badly."
Aaron cocked his head. "What are you getting at, ma'am?"
"Such things are not supposed to happen."
"We killed a lot of them, ma'am," Tawni said. "Thirty or forty."
There was a gleam in her eyes that made Aaron a little uncomfortable. She enjoyed her job too much at times.
"And you still failed," Ethel said. "We're dealing with a large group of professional soldiers who knew exactly what they were doing. They executed the ambush with military precision. We're lucky we only lost one legionnaire."
Aaron made a deep grunt. "Enemies like that don't come from nowhere. Maybe the Society has run across them before."
Perry perked up. "The watch list!"
"The what?" Tawni said.
"The Society maintains a list of dangerous people to keep an eye on. We used the list when we were searching for threats against the President. It includes every major criminal organization and conspiracy on the planet."
"Yes," Ethel said. "God's enemies like to use such people as minions. If a group on that list is operating in Chicago, it could be the one we're after."
Aaron nodded. "That idea is definitely worth investigating. I'm bothered by something else though."
"What?"
"The gift baskets, ma'am. Perry, do you remember what you told me yesterday about the notes on the baskets?"
Perry furrowed his brow. "No, sir. I wish I did."
"I believe the quote was, 'if you're going to mail deadly germs to people, you wouldn't sign the card with your real name.'" Aaron stared at his team. "The Loving Sun Company signed their name. We were supposed to find those baskets. We were supposed to investigate that damned chocolate store in the middle of nowhere. And we were supposed to get our asses creamed." He slapped his own forehead. "Those baskets were bait, and I took the bait. I'm an idiot. This is my fault."
"Nobody saw it, sir," Smythe said.
"That's no excuse. Now that I think about it, the method of the ambush is enlightening. The enemy used knockout gas and then tried to grapple with you. They didn't just shoot you. They knew you were coming, and they wanted to capture you alive." Aaron sat at the table again and tapped his fingers on the glass surface.
"That's right, sir. In fact, their commander told us as much. It's as if the trap was set specifically for us, but how is that possible?"
"That is an excellent question." Aaron narrowed his eyes. "It's also interesting that Sheryl's phone signal was abruptly cut off. It was blocked right away, as if the enemy knew we could use it to track her."
Ethel frowned. "I think there is much more going on here than cannibals and bacteria. Let's not forget that the twins' project is very close to completion. God's enemies would do anything to stop it."
The room was quiet for a long moment.
"Let's take a good look at those bodies." Aaron stood up again.
"They may not be very informative, sir," Smythe said. "They had no identification. Their pockets were empty. The weapons and equipment were generic. All of it could be easily purchased on the black market."
Aaron pointed at the garbage bag on the kitchen floor. "The equipment is in there?"
"Yes, sir."
Ethel stood up. "Let me take a look. I've identified many unidentifiable bodies in the past. Strip them and lay them out."
Aaron smiled a little. Having the legate on the team was a huge advantage, and he was very glad she had insisted on coming.
Smythe and Norbert pulled the clothes off the corpses and placed them on the kitchen floor. The bodies were lined up side-by-side.
Aaron's expert eye started picking out clues immediately. "They're veterans. Look at the old battle scars." He pointed at one man's thigh. "That's a bullet wound." He pointed at another man's shoulder. "That's a stab wound. And those are scars from grenade fragments."
"Correct, sir," Smythe said, "and that pattern of skin lesions comes from mustard gas. He was exposed to chemical weapons."
Ethel knelt over the body nearest her. It was a medium-sized man with a broad chest. His red hair needed a trim.
"The foot callouses indicate this one spent a lot of time marching in boots," she said. "The rough skin on the shoulders comes from carrying a heavy pack. The sloppy haircut is the most telling clue. It's not acceptable in any real army that I know about. I think he was a mercenary."
Aaron furrowed his brow. "If mercenaries are involved in this nasty business, somebody must be paying them."
He noticed that Perry was standing in the far corner with a look of nausea.
Aaron walked over and put a comforting hand on Perry's shoulder. "Your first dead body?"
"Life isn't a video game. Don't forget that."
"Ah!" Ethel exclaimed. "Aaron, come look at this."
Aaron hurried over and leaned down. She was pointing at a tattoo on a man's shoulder. It showed an ace of spades surrounded by a halo of flames. Words below the tattoo read, "Honor the fallen."
"It's military," Aaron said. "It might mean he was a member of a specific unit."
"That was my thought exactly. Perry, use this tattoo to help you identify this man. Find out who his current employer is."
Perry came over. "But ma'am, this is my second night without any sleep. I was hoping to get a little rest."
"Sleep after you do this task. Sheryl is counting on you. I'll stay with you in case you need my advice."
"Yes, ma'am." He sighed deeply.
Aaron looked at his legionnaires. "And the rest of us will sleep now. Tomorrow will be another very busy day." He checked his watch. "Be back here at 6 AM. Hopefully, Perry will have a lead for us by then. Dismissed."
The team scattered.
* * *
The sound of boots clanging on metal woke Sheryl up. It took a moment for her to get oriented. She was lying on a metal grid at the top of a smokestack.
The sound was getting closer. Somebody was climbing up the ladder to check the smokestack. She was about to be discovered.
Fear gripped her heart, but then she remembered she had a new gift. She looked at the circular metal grid. It was symmetric along two axes, and it reminded her of some magic tricks she used to perform.
She slid over to the side farthest away from the ladder. She created a low, wide mirror that bisected the grid exactly across the middle. She made sure she was safely concealed behind the mirror.
A soldier peeked over the top of the smokestack. He would see the reflection of the near side of the grid and think it was the far side. It was a simple illusion dependent on symmetry. The light was so poor, he had no chance of seeing through the trick. After checking the smokestack for a moment, he went back down the ladder.
Sheryl grinned. This is such a cool gift!
She went back to sleep.
* * *
Aaron was yawning when he walked into his office. He found Perry snoring in the chair of his workstation. The soft webbing held him in a reclined position which looked very comfortable. He had taken off his glasses, but the indentation in his nose was permanent. His wavy, brown hair needed to be washed. He was wearing a gray T-shirt, black sweatpants, and no shoes.
"Hey." Aaron touched Perry's shoulder. "Wake up."
Perry snorted and opened his eyes. "Good morning, sir."
"If you're sleeping, it must mean you got the information we need."
"Yes, sir." Perry rubbed his eyes. He grabbed a pair of oversized glasses from a side table and slipped them on. Blinking slowly, he looked up at his monitors. "The dead guy was a member of the British Army. Eventually, he joined the SAS. That's their Special Forces."
"I know who it is," Aaron said.
"About three years ago, he walked off the base and never came back. He disappeared."
"Do you know what happened to him?"
Perry nodded. "It took a lot of digging. I had to work my way through Swiss bank accounts, money laundering schemes, and several false identities. It's a good thing I was using the twins' search software, or I would've never figured it out."
"What's the answer?"
"Unit K."
"Never heard of it." Aaron shrugged.
"It's an international mercenary outfit. They're on the Society watch list as we expected. The note on the list said to call the commander in Brussels for more information."
"Where is Unit K now?"
"I don't know, sir." Perry shook his head. "They're very good at hiding their activities. They insist on being paid in physical gold so there is never a paper trail. I suggest you call that commander if you want to know more."
Aaron patted Perry on the shoulder. "I'll do that. You're a real hero. You can go home now."
"I'll just sleep here, if you don't mind, sir. I don't feel safe in my apartment anymore. It's crazy out there. People are buying guns and boarding up their houses. The streets are empty. Nobody is going to work. It's like a scene from a horror movie. How many people have died so far?"
"I stopped paying attention to the number. It's too depressing. Good night."
Aaron turned off the light, left the office, and closed the door.
He took the short walk south to the two guest rooms. Norbert and the twins were permanent occupants of one room, and Ethel was sleeping in the other. Her bodyguard, Boreas, was on the couch in the living room as was traditional for him.
Aaron knocked on the door of Ethel's room. It opened a second later, and she was standing there in a purple nightgown.
"Were you asleep, ma'am?"
"Fast asleep," she said. "I was up with Perry all night. You have a good man there."
"He found some useful information. Why didn't you wake me up and tell me?"
"I decided to let you sleep another hour. You clearly needed it. That little rant last night was very out of character for you. You want to call Brussels now?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said.
She went back into the room, sat on the bed, and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. Her famous, silver-plated machetes were also on the nightstand in their sheaths. She always kept them within easy reach.
Ethel started with a courtesy call to Petri, the legate of Europe, to inform him of the situation. It was considered bad form to cross division lines without letting the appropriate legate know. Aaron knew nothing about Petri except for his rank in the Society. Aaron wondered if he would ever meet any of the other legates. Ethel would have to die first, and he would have to take her place as legate of North America. Neither event seemed likely to happen anytime soon. Other commanders had seniority over Aaron, so he would have to wait in line behind them. He would probably be commander of Chicago for the rest of his life, however long that lasted.
Finally, Ethel called the commander of Brussels. His name was Van Nieuwenhuyse, and Aaron didn't even try to pronounce it. Ethel put the phone in speaker mode.
"Hello?" Van Nieuwenhuyse said in a rich, European accent.
"This is the legate of North America."
He cleared his throat. "It's a great honor, ma'am."
"We're calling for information about Unit K. According to the Society watch list, you know something about them."
Aaron leaned forward and said, "This is the commander of Chicago. Unit K is holding one of my legionnaires, and they're involved in this cannibal business."
"I heard about that," Van Nieuwenhuyse said. "Very unpleasant. Of course I'll do what I can to help. We encountered Unit K while on a mission. It turned out they weren't directly involved, but they were interesting enough to be worth a separate inquiry."
"They're mercenaries?" Aaron said.
"Yes, a particularly nasty breed. They'll take any job, no matter how dangerous or violent, provided the fee is right. They demand to be paid in pure, gold bullion. The commander is named Hess. He's a wanted man in many countries throughout the world."
"Interesting."
"He recruits men from special operations forces, intelligence agencies, and criminal organizations. He seeks out violent sociopaths who will do anything for money. Greed is their only motivation."
"Plenty of those around," Aaron said.
"Indeed. In terms of combat capability, Unit K is on par with elite military units. Hess only hires people who are proven killers."
"I need to find him."
"That will be challenging," Van Nieuwenhuyse said. "He's an expert at not being found. I'm very curious about why he would be involved in your cannibals. It's hard to see how he profits from such random acts of violence and chaos. I can only conclude that somebody else is paying him
, and his services aren't inexpensive."
"At the moment, I don't care why he's doing this. He's holding my legionnaire. Clients must have a way to contact him, or he wouldn't do any business. There must be a number I can call."
"I know of a client. My team will go over to his house and extract that number. I'll call you back shortly."
"Thank you," Aaron said. "I'm deeply grateful."
Ethel closed her phone and said, "Now we wait."
"Unfortunately."
His stomach was tight. He didn't want to think about what kind of torments poor Sheryl was enduring. We're coming for you, he thought. Just hold on.
* * *
The first rays of sunlight woke Sheryl. Her mouth tasted foul. She created a mirror to check her appearance and was shocked. Her face was even more swollen than before. The commander had given her a severe beating last night. Her mirrored pupils reflected the blue sky eerily.
She decided to play with her new gift to test her limitations. She first tried creating multiple mirrors, but that proved impossible. She could only do one at a time. She also couldn't make curved mirrors. They had to be perfectly flat which was a little disappointing.
She tried to make a mirror as big as possible and managed to produce a circle that was about twenty feet across. The reflection was so perfect, it was like looking at another copy of the world. She played with shapes next and managed to produce simple ovals and polygons. The rule seemed to be that the edge had to be convex, and the mirror couldn't have holes.
Moving mirrors around was the next logical step. She found she could make them drift through the air at a running pace. She could also reshape them on the fly as long as the changes were gradual. That could be very useful.
Sheryl heard footsteps. She crawled over to the edge of the smokestack and looked down.
Two soldiers were crossing the roof of the factory. They had dark circles under their eyes and sagging faces. They shuffled their feet with obvious exhaustion. It was clear they hadn't slept. Probably looking for me all night, Sheryl thought. How sad for them.
She smiled. She felt fresh, alert, and ready to get back to work.
The soldiers were walking near the edge of the huge, sheet metal roof. There was no lip or railing, and that gave Sheryl an idea. As the men approached a corner, she created a low, wide mirror right along the edge. The reflection created the illusion that the roof extended several feet further out. She did her best to continuously adjust the height of the mirror to maintain the illusion. The men were too tired to pay much attention.