Grim Reflections (Gray Spear Society Book 9)

by Alex Siegel

  He used his keycard to open the door. The suite beyond was magnificent. Antique furniture was upholstered in burgundy and gold cloth. The main room was large enough to throw a big party, and four other rooms branched off from it. A glass wall provided a breathtaking view of the city.

  "Does this look appropriate for the foreign minister of Nigeria?" Aaron said.

  "I wouldn't know, sir," Smythe said. "I don't spend a lot of time in the company of African foreign ministers."

  Aaron walked up a flight of stairs, pushed open a heavy door, and emerged onto the roof above the penthouse. His sleek, blue helicopter was parked on a landing pad. He had placed it there earlier in the morning. The aircraft was big enough for a crew of two, four passengers, and plenty of baggage, but today it would carry a light load.

  He leaned into the cockpit and turned on the engine. The rotors spun slowly. When he was satisfied that it was warming up properly, he went back down to the penthouse.

  "You're just going to leave that running?" Smythe said.

  Aaron shrugged. "Why not? It has plenty of gas. I want it ready to go when we need it. Let's prepare."

  Smythe opened his steel suitcase. He took out two gas masks and gave one to Aaron. Then Smythe gave him a paintball gun. The hopper was loaded with clear balls. Smythe had a similar gun, and he checked that all the parts were screwed on tightly.

  Aaron strapped on his gas mask. "All set?"

  "Yes, sir," Smythe said. His gas mask muffled his voice.

  Aaron fired a couple of balls at the window. They broke apart on impact, and clear liquid splattered onto the glass. After a second, the liquid began to evaporate into a mist. He nodded with satisfaction.

  He took a defensive position behind a couch. He wasn't sure which way the assassin would enter, but the door seemed the most likely choice, so Aaron faced in that direction. Smythe took the opposite corner of the room and covered Aaron's back.

  Aaron's phone rang, and the caller ID showed Odelia's number. He did the best job he could of answering the phone with his mask on. "Yes?"

  "I think I spotted our guy," Odelia said. "Medium height, Hispanic, wearing a black suit."

  "Weapons?"

  "I saw two gun bulges on his waist and one at his ankle. I think he also has a vest. He's talking to the manager now. He's trying to finagle a key to your room."

  "We're ready for him," Aaron said.

  He settled into a good firing position. Using a paintball gun was no excuse for poor technique.

  After about fifteen minutes, Aaron heard footsteps in the hallway outside the suite. Nothing happened for a minute, and tension made him frown.

  Suddenly, the door flew inwards. The assassin had used explosive charges to blow it open. A man in a black suit ran in a second later with a gun in each hand. His eyes searched for targets.

  Aaron held the trigger on his paintball gun, and a stream of balls flew out. They struck the assassin directly in the face. An instant later, Smythe blasted the same target with his own balls. The assassin used his hands to try to ward off the attack. He fired his guns randomly and managed to break a window. The clear liquid in the balls turned to vapor. He choked, gagged, and collapsed.

  Aaron cautiously approached the fallen man. His eyes were closed, but he was still breathing slowly.

  Aaron quickly patted down the body and found another gun and a knife. Smythe came over with the steel suitcase to collect the evidence. Aaron discovered the assassin was wearing a tight-fitting Kevlar vest under his black suit, but Aaron didn't bother taking it off. They would strip the man properly back at headquarters before his interrogation.

  He had a wallet. Aaron briefly glanced at the identification inside and decided it was probably fake. He kept the wallet anyway. Even fake identification could be an important clue.

  Finally, the assassin had a phone, and a military-grade encryption module was installed in a slot. That was probably the most valuable item of all. Aaron stuffed it into his coat pocket.

  Aaron hefted the body onto his shoulder.

  "Need help with that, sir?" Smythe said.

  "I got it. Call Odelia and tell her we're heading home with the prize."

  "Who is going to do the interrogation?"

  "Ethel can, if she wants," Aaron said. "She enjoys the process of digging out truth. Tawni can assist."

  Smythe shuddered.

  They climbed up the stairs and walked onto the helipad. A blast of freezing air buffeted Aaron, but he held his ground. He loaded the unconscious assassin into the back of the helicopter. Aaron checked the man's pulse to confirm he was still alive.

  Aaron sat in the warm cockpit. Smythe took a position beside the assassin in case he woke up prematurely.

  Aaron pulled on the collective, and the helicopter rose smoothly into the air. It was a wonderful aircraft. The interior was so quiet, he almost didn't need ear protection. He turned west and flew towards the Rosemont Tower Hotel.

  After travelling half a mile, he heard a ringing sound. He looked down and realized it was the assassin's phone in Aaron's pocket.

  Aaron handed the phone to Smythe. "Answer the call, but don't talk."

  Smythe accepted the call. He held up the phone so both men could hear.

  "Luis," a man said, "you're moving out of range. What's happening? Answer me immediately."

  Aaron frowned. He had a partner.

  "Luis! Talk to me, or I will initiate the erasure process."

  Aaron pushed the phone down and said, "Check for explosives."

  Smythe frantically searched the assassin. "There are wires under his vest," Smythe said. "Some kind of bomb!"

  "Get rid of him!"

  Smythe opened the side door and shoved the body out. A second later, it detonated in the air with enough force to rock the helicopter. Looking a little pale, Smythe closed the door.

  Nobody spoke for a moment.

  Finally, Aaron said, "We still have his wallet and his phone. It had better be enough, because that's all we're going to get."

  * * *

  Aaron landed his helicopter on top of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. A blizzard of loose snow erupted on his final approach. Conveniently, the rotor wash cleared the helipad for him and helped him find his landing spot.

  He hopped out while the blades were still spinning down. He ran through the freezing air, went downstairs, and hurried straight to his office. As he had hoped, Perry was snoozing at his workstation.

  Aaron tapped him on the shoulder.

  Perry woke up abruptly. "Sir?"

  "This is what we got." Aaron handed him the assassin's phone and wallet.

  Perry rubbed his eyes and went to work. He started with the wallet.

  After typing for a few minutes, he said, "The identification is worthless, sir."

  "I guessed it was fake," Aaron said.

  "It's worse than that." Perry held up a driver's license. "This is just forged ID with nothing behind it. No bank accounts, no computer records, no history. Completely useless. You'd have a hard time getting a drink at a bar with this card."

  "Look at the phone."

  Smythe, Ethel, and Boreas entered the office. They had curious expressions but kept quiet.

  Perry examined the phone. "It's locked, sir."

  "Can you unlock it?" Aaron said.

  "Not quickly. This thing looks like military gear. It's tamperproof. I can crack it, but it will take me hours."

  Aaron pounded his palm with his fist in frustration.

  "I thought you were going to interrogate the assassin," Perry said. "What happened to him?"

  "He had to make an emergency exit," Aaron said.

  He took the wallet back from Perry. It contained a driver's license, a car insurance card, and four business cards. There wasn't even a credit card.

  He took out one of the business cards and read, "Cloud of Silk Bedding Supply."

  "I already checked, sir," Perry said. "The company doesn't exist. There isn't even a website. The phone number on that
card isn't in service. It's not worth the paper it's printed on."

  "Why would an assassin pretend to sell bedding supplies?"

  Perry shrugged. "It's a cover story, I guess."

  Aaron stared at the card for another moment. He turned to Smythe and said, "Go to the home of somebody who is affected by the disease. Check his bed. Take Odelia with you."

  Smythe raised his eyebrows.

  "Just do it," Aaron said.

  "Yes, sir."

  Ethel pulled Aaron aside. Her eyes were full of darkness and death, but they also held concern now. There was tension in her bony face.

  "The President keeps calling me," she said in a low voice. "Normally, I enjoy my conversations with Roy, but he's been rather shrill lately. He's under enormous pressure to do something about the cannibal situation here."

  "We just need a little more time, ma'am," he said.

  "That's what I told him, but he can't hold back the tide much longer. One way or another, the military will be here tomorrow morning."

  "The Army?"

  She nodded. "Entire divisions with tank support. Enough soldiers to put an end to the chaos. This is about to become a war zone, and there is nothing we can do to prevent it."

  Aaron turned and walked over to his desk. It was made of thick slabs of gray metal welded together to form a solid piece. He slapped the surface hard.

  Ethel came up behind him. "Don't let it distract you. We have to just push forward."

  "Yes, ma'am." He sighed.

  * * *

  Aaron walked into the lobby of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. The quiet gave him pause. Normally, there was the hustle and bustle of business travelers, especially at this time of day. Instead, the only sounds were the tinkling from the water sculpture and very soft classical music. Even the doorman was missing.

  Aaron walked across the black and gold carpet with silent footsteps. Mr. Rosenblum was the only person in sight. The general manager of the hotel was working behind the reception desk like an ordinary clerk. He straightened as Aaron approached.

  "Lonely in here," Aaron said.

  "Yes, sir," Rosenblum said. "Half the staff didn't show up for work."

  "Is that why you're behind the desk?"

  "I'm doing all kinds of odd jobs today. It's not too bad. The hotel is mostly empty anyway. In fact, I'm not sure why we have any guests left at all. It seems everybody is doing their best to get out of town by the quickest means possible."

  Aaron nodded. "Let the staff know that I value loyalty and courage very highly. Those who continue to show up for work in these difficult times will be generously rewarded. Those who do not won't have a job at all before long." He paused. "And if they need a safe place to stay during this crisis, they can live here in the hotel, free of charge. We have plenty of empty rooms. That will make everybody's commute a little easier and safer."

  Rosenblum smiled. "That's very kind of you. I'll get the word out. Why did you come here, sir?"

  "Just to see how things are going. I've been exceptionally busy the last couple of days. I haven't been giving the hotel any attention. Is the situation here under control?"

  "I'm doing my best." Rosenblum paused. "I'll be honest. This cannibal situation scares the bleep out of me. Even I thought about skipping work this morning."

  "I assure you the best people available are working on a resolution right now."

  "How would you know that, sir?"

  Aaron looked at him seriously. "I just do."

  Rosenblum nodded. "I believe you."

  "Your loyal service in particular won't be forgotten. I'm relying on you to keep this hotel running smoothly while I'm distracted by other business. If we get through this mess in one piece, you can expect a nice bonus."

  "How much, sir?"

  "Let's just say there are things I can do for you that can't be measured in dollars and cents."

  Aaron's phone rang. The caller ID showed Jack's numeric identifier.

  Feeling puzzled and concerned, Aaron put the phone to his ear. "Yes?"

  "Security breech, sir," Jack said. "A suspicious man is walking in the parking lot on the north side of the hotel."

  "Be more specific."

  "Erratic movements. Fresh blood on his mouth, hands, and chest. Inappropriately dressed for the cold weather."

  Aaron sagged. A cannibal, he thought.

  "Would you like me to use any of the weapons? I recommend the automatic sniper system. One shot would kill him with 99.4 percent probability."

  "No. I'll take care of it. Open the exterior door to the basement."

  "Yes, sir," Jack said.

  Aaron hung up.

  "Is there a problem, sir?" Rosenblum raised his eyebrows.

  "Not one you need to worry about."

  Aaron jogged down a corridor to reach the exit on the north side of the hotel. Along the way, he passed an Italian restaurant, a barbershop, and a small pharmacy.

  He braced himself for the cold weather and opened the door. He was wearing just a business suit and dress shoes. He had come straight down from headquarters and hadn't expected to go outside.

  The bitter, winter wind cut through his thin clothes. His face seemed to instantly freeze. He nearly slipped on a sheet of ice.

  The cannibal was loping across the parking lot like a gorilla. He was wearing just a green T-shirt, brown slacks, and tennis shoes, but the cold didn't seem to bother him. Blood splatters covered the front of his body. His long, brown hair was a snarled mess.

  Aaron waved his arms. "Hey, asshole! Over here! Plenty of juicy meat on these bones!"

  The cannibal licked his lips and sprinted towards Aaron.

  Aaron ran along the side of the building. His dress shoes were a terrible choice for wet ice and snow. He was having so much trouble, the cannibal was actually gaining ground.

  Aaron went around a corner and headed towards the entrance to the underground section. When he hit the icy ramp going down, his feet shot out from under him. His martial arts skills saved him, and he managed to turn the fall into a graceful roll. He hopped back to his feet.

  The automatic door was open, and he ran into the basement without breaking stride. Giant pipes and humming machinery surrounded him. The equipment was packed together so tightly, it formed impassible barriers, and that was by design. The basement was a labyrinth.

  He ran a little further until he reached a dry, open spot which was suitable for hand-to-hand combat. The floor was solid concrete. A florescent fixture provided bluish light. He kicked off his shoes and stretched his shoulders.

  The cannibal arrived a moment later. He still had strings of fresh meat in his teeth.

  He reached out with bloody hands and rushed Aaron. The attack was surprisingly swift, and it almost caught Aaron off guard. He stepped aside and planted a kick in the cannibal's midsection. The heavy blow lifted him off the ground, and it would've disabled a normal man.

  The cannibal shrugged it off and came at Aaron again. This time Aaron caught the cannibal's arm and broke his elbow. Aaron stepped around and broke the other arm for good measure.

  The cannibal looked down at his broken arms and growled like an animal. He attacked with his teeth next, and again, his speed and ferocity were startling. He didn't seem to feel pain. Aaron broke the man's legs with a couple of straight kicks. The cannibal fell to the ground, and Aaron sat on his back.

  "Can you understand me?" Aaron said. "Does your brain still work?"

  The cannibal squirmed and snapped with his teeth.

  "I want to help you."

  The cannibal didn't seem to hear.

  Aaron sighed with disappointment. He grabbed the man's head and broke his neck. At last, he was still.

  Aaron stood up, grabbed the body, and slung it over his shoulder. He proceeded deeper into the basement. He made several turns that would've confused most people, but he knew his way.

  Eventually, he arrived at a section with several large furnaces. All the burners were on, and the blowers were blo
wing at full speed. It took a lot of heat to keep the big hotel warm.

  One of the furnaces had a special feature. He pulled open a sliding hatch to reveal a steel cage inside. Searing hot air and fumes blew out through the opening. He quickly stuffed the body into the cage and closed the hatch.

  Aaron walked away. The cremation process would take days, but it would leave nothing behind. Pipes carried the fumes to the roof of the hotel, so nobody would smell the burning meat.

  This investigation is starting to hit a little too close to home, he thought.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Smythe was driving a little, brown sedan through the slushy streets of Mount Prospect, one of the suburbs north-west of Chicago. It was a decent neighborhood consisting of modest, single-family homes. He imagined it was a pleasant place to live under normal conditions.

  These weren't normal conditions. The streets were completely empty. He hadn't seen another car on the road in minutes. Some of the home owners had fortified their houses by boarding up the windows. Signs announcing "trespassers will be shot" were placed prominently in front yards. One person had even boarded up his front door.

  "This is so depressing," Odelia said.

  Smythe nodded. "And we're partly to blame. This investigation is taking too long."

  He pulled up in front of a tan house made of brick. The windows and door were framed in white trim.

  "How do you want to do this?" she said.

  He pulled two sets of handcuffs out of his coat pocket. "I'm not in a mood to screw around."

  "Good, because neither am I."

  Smythe zipped up his coat, grabbed an evidence kit from the back seat, and left the car. His boots crunched on powdery snow as he trotted over to the house. The snowstorm had stopped, but it was still cloudy and cold.

  He pounded on the front door. Odelia caught up to him, and she was wearing a pink parka.

  After a moment, the door opened, and a man peered out. He was just wearing shorts, and sweat was dripping from his flushed skin. Hard, lean muscles stood out on his arms and chest.

  Smythe kicked open the door, grabbed the man, and spun him around. Before he had a chance to protest, his hands were cuffed behind his back. Smythe pushed the man to the floor and used the other cuffs on his ankles.