Psychological Damage (Gray Spear Society)

by Siegel, Alex

  "Not bad," she said.

  Aaron tried not to show his pain as he stood up. He would have some nasty bruises in the morning. Marina was clearly dazed, and he hugged her so she wouldn't fall. Smythe didn't move at all.

  Ethel and the legate walked into the workout room.

  "Having fun, Atalanta?" Ethel said in a tight voice.

  "I needed some exercise," Atalanta replied coolly.

  "My legionnaires aren't your punching bags."

  "I let them all come at me at once. That seemed fair enough."

  Ethel looked down at Smythe, who still hadn't moved. "If any of my people are injured..."

  "You know my attacks are always precise. They'll have a few minor contusions as mementos, but no permanent harm was done."

  Ethel glared.

  "Why don't you challenge me?" Atalanta said. "I hear you still have some fight left in your old bones."

  "My old bones are too busy doing important work."

  "It will just take thirty seconds."

  "What if I get hurt?" Ethel said. "My duties won't wait while I heal."

  Atalanta snorted. "When did you become so fearful?"

  "See this gray hair?" Ethel patted her curls. "It's a badge of wisdom and accomplishment. Few people in the Society live long enough to earn this badge. I doubt you will, given your attitude. What you call fearful, I call intelligent."

  Ethel kneeled in front of Smythe and checked his vital signs.

  "You can't talk to me that way." Atalanta raised her chin.

  "This is my headquarters," Ethel said. "My home. I will talk to you any way I please."

  The legate stepped forward and said, "That's enough, ladies. Atalanta, it was inappropriate for you to beat up Ethel's staff. Their welfare is her responsibility. You owe her an apology."

  Atalanta hesitated. Then, she lowered her eyes and said, "I'm sorry." She walked out of the room.

  Ethel sighed.

  Smythe opened his eyes and blinked in confusion. "What happened?" he mumbled. "I feel like I got hit by a truck." There was a red mark on his cheek in the shape of Atalanta's hand.

  "Take is easy," she said. "I don't think anything is broken. Go into the kitchen and put some ice on that face before it swells up." She turned to Aaron and Marina. "Are you OK?"

  "I think so," Aaron said.

  Marina nodded. "Just a little wobbly. I knew fighting her was a stupid idea."

  "We need both of you in the conference room," Ethel said. "Yvonne, too."

  "Me?" Yvonne squeaked.

  Aaron and Marina followed Ethel and the legate back to the main conference room. Yvonne dragged her feet as she trailed behind.

  The five of them sat on the purple velvet chairs.

  "Ethel and I talked at length about Wesley," the legate said. "We decided we need more time to make permanent arrangements for his security. Anything less than a perfect job is unacceptable. While that process is going on, he can't stay here."

  "Why?" Aaron said. "Our headquarters is the safest place in Chicago. It's a secret fortress."

  "It's less than a mile from where his parents were killed. I assume his enemies are still prowling around. I want you and Marina to take Wesley far away."

  "Where should we go?"

  "You decide," the legate said, "and don't tell me."

  "Sir? I don't understand."

  "Chicago is toxic right now. I want a strong firewall between him and this mess until we're done cleaning it up. We may have to destroy his enemies to ensure his security. You'll have no contact with the Gray Spear Society for the duration of this mission. Wesley will be entirely your responsibility. Don't call us unless it's truly necessary."

  "Excuse me, sir," Aaron said, "but that seems a little extreme."

  "We don't know what we're dealing with. The situation here could get rough. I'll feel better knowing Wesley is completely out of reach."

  "Yes, sir. When should we return?"

  "In two weeks," the legate said. "That should give us enough time to do whatever needs to be done. Is that clear?"

  Aaron nodded. "Yes, sir, but while we're gone, the Chicago cell will be missing its two best legionnaires. What if there is another mission?"

  "Atalanta and I will be your temporary replacements." The legate turned to Yvonne. "Aaron's team needs a third member. You're going."

  Her eyes widened. "But, sir, I can't go on a mission! I haven't had an assignment in five years."

  "Why? Are your legs broken?"

  "No... I... uh..." Her face became pale and she trembled.

  "I've been exceptionally patient with you. You've had more than enough time to recover from your traumatic experience."

  Yvonne slumped down in her chair.

  "Let me be even more clear," the legate said. "The Society doesn't need maids. If you won't use the marvelous gifts God gave you, then you'll have to retire."

  Aaron grimaced. In the Gray Spear Society retirement was synonymous with death.

  "Sir," Yvonne pleaded.

  "Of course you can retire right now if you want." The legate took a gun from inside his jacket and slid it across the table. "Just put the barrel in your mouth and pull the trigger. Problem solved."

  She stared at the gun in front of her. The room became very quiet.

  "But I'll just be a burden," she whispered.

  "Ethel believes otherwise."

  Yvonne looked up at Ethel.

  "That's right." Ethel nodded. "I've done everything in my power to help you heal. At this point I have to admit I failed. The scars in your mind are too deep. I'm hoping Wesley will be your salvation. Spending time with him could lead to the miraculous breakthrough you need."

  "Wesley can help me?" Yvonne said.

  "We hope so. The boy is very special."

  A hint of a smile appeared on Yvonne's face.

  "What is your decision?" the legate said.

  She looked at the gun again. Aaron wondered if she were seriously considering using it.

  Finally, she whispered, "I'll go."

  "Good," the legate said. "Pack your bags. I don't expect you to need weapons, but bring plenty of them anyway. Bring everything you might possibly need to protect Wesley. See if you can find some body armor in his size. Dismissed."

  * * *

  Aaron stood in the underground garage of headquarters. He was trying to decide which vehicle to take, and he had a number of good choices. There were four sedans, all nondescript but with plenty of power under the hood. If he wanted to be quick and nimble, that was the way to go. He could take a full sized van or even a delivery truck if he wanted space for plenty of baggage. The choice wasn't obvious.

  The legate walked into the garage. His gray suit was as spotless and wrinkle-free as ever. He wore formal elegance like a suit of armor.

  "Sir," Aaron said, "do you have any thoughts about what car I should take?"

  "Don't take a car at all. I don't like the idea of you driving Wesley through the crowded streets of Chicago. What if you have an accident or get caught in a traffic jam?"

  "What else can we do?"

  "Fly out of here," the legate said. "I believe Marina is a skilled helicopter pilot. You can switch to a car once you're safely far away."

  "I don't think there is a helicopter pad nearby, sir. And how would we get a helicopter into downtown without attracting attention?"

  "Then do something else, as long as your departure is swift. Don't linger in the city. But transportation isn't why I'm here. I want to be sure you understand how important your assignment is."

  "I get it, sir," Aaron said. "The order to protect Wesley came straight from the Big Man."

  The legate put his hand on Aaron's shoulder. "God will judge us by how well we care for him. Not just you or me. He will judge the entire Society. That's an enormous responsibility, and for the next two weeks it will be in your hands. I'm making you the commander of your team."

  "Me, sir? What about Marina? She has a lot more seniority. Compared to her I
'm still pretty much a rookie. And technically, Yvonne has even more years than Marina."

  The legate shook his head. "You know very well Marina isn't mentally stable. At times she isn't even rational. She can't lead such a critical mission. Yvonne is in even worse shape. That's why I must rely on you."

  "I'll do my best, sir." Aaron saluted.

  "Don't take any unnecessary chances while you're out there. Be suspicious of everyone. And when Wesley speaks, listen carefully."

  "But he's just a kid."

  The legate leaned forward slightly and spoke in a serious tone. "He's the only person you can absolutely trust. Don't forget that."

  "Yes, sir." Aaron looked up at the ceiling. "So, how do we get out of here? Can't drive, can't fly..."

  Edward ran into the garage. He was a black man with very curly, short hair. Wire-rim glasses were perched on his broad nose. His blue jeans had a coffee stain on one thigh, and he wore a blue T-shirt with the words "My Disk is Harder" across the front.

  "Sirs," he said excitedly, "I've analyzed some of the evidence. We're ready for you in the conference room."

  The legate nodded.

  He and Aaron followed Edward back to the conference room. Ethel, Marina, Smythe, and Atalanta were already seated.

  "That's everybody," Edward said. "I'll get started."

  "Not yet," the legate said. "We're missing Yvonne."

  "Yvonne? Sir, she never comes to these meetings. She's not a legionnaire."

  "That's incorrect. Aaron, please get her. We'll wait."

  Aaron walked back out of the conference room. He checked the kitchen first but Yvonne wasn't there. He went door to door until he finally located her in the laundry room. She was sitting on a stool with her back to the wall and her hands in her lap. A basket full of folded laundry was on the floor in front of her.

  "We're having a meeting," he said. "You're attendance is required."

  She didn't move.

  "Did you hear me?" he said.

  "Yes." She spoke so softly she was barely audible.

  "Then come on. Everybody is waiting, including the legate."

  He noticed she was trembling.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I can't go on this mission," she said.

  "You can't back out, Yvonne. That's suicide."

  She remained on her stool. Snarling, he walked over and reached for her arm. With surprising speed she hopped away and ducked behind a water heater.

  "What is your problem?" he said. "You'll be with Marina and me the entire time. We'll take care of any trouble. This isn't even a combat mission. Hopefully, it will just be a nice vacation."

  She watched him silently from behind the heater.

  He offered his hand. "Come out. Now!"

  She shook her head. He gritted his teeth in frustration. If he reported this situation to the legate, he might have her executed on the spot for insubordination.

  Wesley entered the laundry room. He was wearing fuzzy, gray pajamas that were several sizes too large.

  "What are you doing here?" Aaron said. "You're supposed to be taking a nap. It will be a long night for everybody."

  "The yelling woke me up."

  Wesley walked over to Yvonne and looked up at her face. She flashed a tentative smile at him.

  "The old man said you would protect me," he said. "Will you?"

  "I..." She swallowed.

  "You seem very nice."

  "Thank you."

  "But now you're being mean," he said.

  "I don't understand." She furrowed her brow.

  "You don't want to help me."

  "No! No. I'm just very afraid." She stepped out from behind the water heater.

  He held her hand. "Me, too."

  She knelt down and gave him a hug.

  He stared directly into her eyes. "My parents died today. They can't protect me anymore. Will you?" His sweet voice sounded angelic.

  Her face twisted with rapidly changing emotions. Her mouth opened and closed but only gasps came out.

  Finally, she forced out the words, "Yes. I will."

  "Promise?" Wesley said.

  "I promise."

  "Thank you. I have to go back to my nap." He walked out of the room.

  She was shaking like a leaf. Her face was flushed, and her gaze wandered randomly. Aaron put his arm around her shoulder to make sure she didn't fall over.

  "What the hell just happened?" he asked. "Some kind of mind control?"

  She grimaced. "No. Worse. He made me see the truth."

  "About what?"

  "My life. How I wasted the last five years. The things I failed to accomplish. The steps forward I refused to take. It was like having my brain scrubbed with a wire brush." She shivered. "Let's go to that meeting. The legate has been waiting too long."

  They quickly returned to the conference room. The legate frowned at Yvonne but didn't say anything about the delay.

  "Good," Edward said. "I can finally start. I spent a lot of time looking at the photos and other evidence. Most of it was standard crime scene stuff. But there was one unique item."

  He passed out copies of a photo. It showed a peculiar crucifix hanging around a dead man's neck. Tightly nested, concentric circles formed the arms of the cross, and flecks of jade dotted the centers. The whole thing was made of bronze.

  "Smythe suggested these guys are Catholic monks," he said, "so I worked that angle. Some religious orders have their own special crucifix. I just needed to find out which order uses this particular one. That question turned out to be tough to answer. I called the Society cell in Rome for some expert help."

  "What did they tell you?" the legate said.

  "The Brotherhood of the Luciferian Child. They are a Catholic order that was officially abolished a couple of years ago."

  "They obviously still exist, unofficially. Why were they abolished?"

  "The directive came from the Pope," Edward said. "No explanation was given. All the records are locked away in the Vatican. Information about the Brotherhood is scarce, but I did find out they are searching for Lucifer's Child, i.e., the Antichrist. Obviously, they believe he is Wesley. I'll keep digging."

  "Good work," the legate said.

  "Thank you, sir." Edward bobbed his head.

  "Smythe and Edward will continue this investigation. The Brotherhood is somewhere in Chicago, and our first task is locating them."

  "Yes, sir," Smythe said.

  "And if you need help, Atalanta will assist you. Use whatever resources you require. The enemies of God may be behind all of this."

  Atalanta made a sour face.

  "The meeting is adjourned," the legate said. "Aaron, it's time for you and your team to go."

  Aaron nodded. "Our cell has a speed boat docked in DuSable Harbor, which is just half a mile away, straight up Wacker. There is no traffic at this time of night, so the drive should take just a couple of minutes. The quickest way to escape the city is Lake Michigan. The boat has radar, so if anybody tries to follow us, we'll know it."

  "Is the boat fast?"

  "Very, but we'll bring a ton of firepower, just in case. I'll make sure we're prepared for any kind of trouble. Is that satisfactory, sir?"

  "I can't think of a better idea," the legate said. "Proceed."

  Chapter Five

  Somebody was shaking Brother Norbert. "Sir! Wake up!"

  Norbert opened his eyes. He was lying on a cot in the empty office on the north side of the Chicago River. "What time is it?" he muttered in a hoarse voice.

  "1:30 in the morning. Look out the window!"

  Norbert stumbled over to the telescope. In the dark room it was hard to avoid bumping into sleeping men or their equipment. He rubbed his eyes and peered through the telescope.

  A black van was emerging from the garage door on Lower Wacker. Suddenly, Norbert was fully awake.

  He grabbed a radio attached to his belt. "I need a pursuit team!" he yelled. "Right now!"

  A male voice answered, "This is
Brother Jeremiah. We're ready."

  "Black van, headed east on Wacker. Go!"

  "Yes, sir!"

  Norbert peered through the telescope again. The van was moving fast, and there was no traffic to get in the way. After just a few seconds he lost sight of it.

  He spoke into his radio, "Jeremiah, report!"

  "We're almost there, sir."

  "Where are my spotters? Who else is on duty?"

  Another voice responded, "This is Brother Thaddeus. We'll intercept them at Lake Shore."

  "Good." Norbert's heart was pounding. "I'll meet you there."

  He sprinted out of the office. He ran down the stairs taking two at a time.

  A moment later he emerged onto the street. Except for a distant siren the city was quiet at this time of night. The air cooled his sweaty face.

  He looked around for transportation. He had a car but it was parked in an underground garage two blocks away. He spotted a blue and white cab in front of a hotel across the street.

  He ran over and climbed into the cab. "Lake Shore Drive!" he yelled at the surprised cabby. "Hurry!"

  "Where on Lake Shore?"

  "Just go!" Norbert threw a hundred dollar bill at the cabby.

  The cab pulled away from the hotel.

  Brother Jeremiah's voice came through the radio on Norbert's belt. "Sir! We lost the van!"

  Norbert grabbed the handset and pressed the talk button. "What do you mean?"

  "We don't see them. I don't think they turned onto Lake Shore, but there was no other way to go."

  Norbert rubbed his scalp as he tried to visualize a local map of Chicago. "Isn't a harbor near there?"

  "We're stuck on the expressway, sir," Jeremiah said. "We can't see the harbor."

  "Then get out of your car and pursue on foot! Do I have to explain everything?" Norbert turned to the cabby. "Take me to the harbor."

  "DuSable Harbor?" the cabby asked.

  "Sure."

  Norbert's mind was racing. If the enemy was at the harbor, it meant they intended to take a boat. That was bad news. The Brotherhood didn't have any boats in the area. Stealing one would take too much time.

  "Sir!" a new voice called on the radio. "This is Brother Menahem. I'm at the harbor. The black van is parked at the dock entrance, right on the sidewalk."

  "What else?" Norbert said.

  "There are two women and a man. They're loading luggage onto a boat. Big duffle bags and suitcases."