Teller of Lies (Gray Spear Society Book 13)

by Alex Siegel

  "She grows roots out of her palms, and they suck out the juices. This process supercharges her body, making her incredibly strong and resilient. She could tear you in half with her bare hands. That's not an exaggeration."

  Hanley grimaced. "I see."

  "Guthrum has a very spooky ability. He can see a few seconds into the future allowing him to anticipate attacks perfectly. He has a negative reaction time. He can even avoid his own death. If you spar with him, you'll understand how useful that is. Finally, there's good ol' Charles, the former legate. He can become invisible."

  "Are you kidding, ma'am?"

  "Technically, it's not true invisibility," Marina said. "It's more like psychological trickery, but it's the same thing from a practical perspective. It's possible to learn how to overcome his gift. Wesley can certainly do it, and Aaron claims he can with difficulty. It will be interesting to see if I can figure it out."

  He blew air through his lips. "That's certainly an impressive team."

  "Yes. They put the rest of us losers into perspective. But Wesley is the scariest of all. What he did to Ipo is just a taste of his powers. I've seen Wesley drive people to suicide with just a few well-chosen words. Enough chit-chat. I need to call the chief and tell him I'm coming."

  She took out her phone.

  Chapter Two

  Yang was utterly bewildered. Nobody was paying attention to him, and he considered just walking out the door. He was missing his first day of work at a prestigious security firm in San Francisco. The company specialized in protecting the rich and famous. The job wasn't as honorable as serving in the Marines, but it paid much better and promised an interesting life. He would be a fool to throw away the opportunity.

  Yang looked at Jia and realized he couldn't leave without talking to her first. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. She had been an awkward teenager at their first meeting, but now she was a grown-up woman. She was still small though. Her body was so petite, it made her head seem relatively large. Long, black hair flowed like silk around her adorable face. She was staring at her computer screens with total concentration.

  He walked over to her and looked at what she was doing. Her delicate fingers were typing fast enough to make her keyboard rattle. Information was popping up on her four computer monitors, and most of it looked like gibberish to him, but he picked out a few familiar words. She was doing something with police communication and dispatch channels.

  "Hi," Yang said.

  Jia paused and looked up at him. "Hi." She smiled.

  "I'm still freaked out."

  "The first day in the Society is always rough. I was so scared, I cried like a baby. You'll be fine."

  He raised one eyebrow. "You were scared?"

  "Of course. These people are dangerous! Marina has killed something like a thousand enemies."

  Yang didn't believe her. Marina had struck him as tough, perhaps even a threat, but not a mass murderer. Besides, killing so many people was impossible. He had been a soldier long enough to understand the difficulty of taking out even a single enemy.

  "Check out the armory." Jia pointed to a nearby closet in the southeast corner.

  Overcome with curiosity, Yang opened the closet door and went inside.

  "Holy shit," he whispered.

  The collection of weapons ran the gamut from .22 caliber target pistols to M249 light machine guns. There were grenades and demolition charges of every type. The collection of body armor included some kinds he had never seen before. He walked over and touched a black and gray outfit made of stiff fibers woven to form a thick mat.

  Many items were completely illegal for civilians to own. The assault rifles alone were worth a laundry list of felonies. There was an entire crate of armor-piercing ammunition.

  "Do you like what you see?" Wesley asked.

  Yang turned and saw that the boy had entered the room. Yang hadn't thought a male could be beautiful, but Wesley certainly qualified. His blue eyes sparkled in an eerie, unnatural way. Guthrum stood behind him and watched Yang closely.

  "Are you criminals?" Yang said.

  "No," Wesley said. "The Society is made of honorable warriors like you."

  "Who fight for God?" Yang's voice was full of doubt.

  "Will a miracle convince you?"

  "Are you going to make me cry like Ipo?"

  "No." Wesley shook his head. "Guthrum will provide the miracle."

  Guthrum was the tallest person Yang had ever met. Guthrum's skin was so pale, every vein was clearly visible, and there wasn't a single follicle of hair on his head. His body was thin and bony, and he was wearing a gray jogging suit. Steel gauntlets with spikes on the knuckles protected his hands.

  "Take a gun," Wesley said. "Make sure it's loaded."

  "You're serious?" Yang said.

  "Very."

  Yang selected a Colt .45 M1911. The pistol was standard issue in the Marines, and he was intimately familiar with every facet of the weapon. It felt like an old friend in his hands. Boxes of ammunition were piled on the floor, and he loaded two magazines just in case.

  "Now we need to find the gun range," Wesley said.

  "How is shooting at targets a miracle?" Yang said.

  "Depends on the target."

  Min Ho directed them to a steep, narrow stairway leading down. The group descended into an underground range with two shooting lanes. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of treated concrete. Paper targets were positioned fifty yards away in front of a wall of dirt. There were plenty more guns and boxes of ammunition on shelves.

  "Not bad," Yang muttered.

  "Guthrum," Wesley said, "go to the far end of the range. We'll do the usual training exercise."

  Guthrum nodded and jogged to where the targets were located.

  Yang furrowed his brow. "What's going on?"

  "Your job is to try to shoot him," Wesley said. "His job is to disarm you. As soon as you start firing, he'll come at you."

  "Huh?" Yang looked over at Guthrum. "I can't do that! It's insanely dangerous."

  The boy pulled a small revolver from under his shirt and fired directly at Guthrum. The tall man danced lightly on his feet as bullets struck the dirt all around him. They weren't blanks. Wesley was actually trying to kill him!

  "You're crazy!" Yang said.

  "No. I'm the sanest person in the world. Shoot your gun, and if you miss on purpose, you'll insult him and he'll hurt you. Guthrum is a proud man."

  The sound of gunfire had obviously attracted attention because Charles, Atalanta, and Katie came down the stairs. The first two didn't seem surprised to see Guthrum at the wrong end of a gun range. Katie, on the other hand, gasped and widened her eyes.

  "Let's make the stakes a little higher," Wesley said. "If you hit Guthrum, you can go. Nobody will stop you. You can have your life back. But if he disarms you, you're stuck here, and you'll serve Marina without argument. Deal?"

  Yang looked at the other people to see if anybody would stop this madness. Charles had a neutral expression, and Atalanta seemed mildly amused. Only Katie appeared shocked, but she kept her mouth shut.

  "Hurry up," Atalanta said. "This is getting tedious."

  "You actually want me to shoot your teammate?" Yang said.

  She pulled out a katana which had been hidden in a scabbard under the back of her shirt. The Japanese sword gleamed brilliantly in the lights. A wavy pattern was imprinted into the steel along the sharp edge.

  "Do it," she said with a snarl, "or I'll cut you in half."

  Yang didn't like being threatened. These people were lunatics, and it was time to run, but she was in his way. Fortunately, he had a loaded pistol in his hands. He shot her in the leg and took a quick step towards the stairway.

  The feel of the katana against his neck froze him. Atalanta was incredibly quick with that blade. Yang looked down, expecting to see blood gushing from her leg, but there was just a hole in her pants.

  "You doubt my resolve?" Atalanta whispered in his ear.
/>
  "Don't kill him," Wesley said. "Yang, please, follow my instructions. It will be alright."

  Yang backed away slowly, and Atalanta lowered her sword. A smashed bullet was lying on the floor. She picked it up and handed it to him, and the lead was still warm.

  "How?" he whispered.

  "God hardened my body and my mind," she said. "Shoot Guthrum now!"

  He felt like he had entered an alternate reality where the normal rules didn't apply. The insanity had begun the moment he had entered the Society.

  He decided to just play along until he figured out what was happening. He pointed his gun at Guthrum but aimed low. A hit would seriously injure but not kill him.

  Yang pulled the trigger. A second before the shot fired, Guthrum stepped out of the way. Then he sprinted directly towards Yang.

  He reflexively fired again, and Guthrum dodged just as easily. The tall man seemed to know exactly where Yang was going to shoot ahead of time.

  Guthrum was moving fast, and Yang realized he didn't have much time left. He fired rapidly, aiming for the chest this time. At such close range, it was difficult to miss, but Guthrum danced around the bullets gracefully.

  Yang was certain he was dreaming.

  He fired a few more times, but it made no difference. Guthrum disarmed him with an elegant spinning kick and then took him down with a low sweep. Yang was too disoriented to put up much of a defense, and he fell hard on the concrete floor.

  Wesley looked down at him. "Welcome to the Gray Spear Society. You'll be answering to Marina for the rest of your life, and that's a very long time."

  He went up the stairs, and his bodyguards followed him.

  Yang was left alone with Katie. She was an attractive woman, and he particularly liked her shiny brown hair. Her blue eyes were pretty but not in an unnatural way like Wesley's.

  "Did that actually just happen?" Yang said.

  "Yes. I'd better go check on Ipo. You should just lie there until you settle down. The first day is always a big adjustment."

  Katie left.

  * * *

  Marina and Hanley were standing in a park behind San Francisco City Hall. The park was just a flat, open space covered in grass and concrete. There were some trees and a small playground on one side. A line of flagpoles ran down the center of the park.

  City Hall was much more impressive. It was a huge, white building with a classical architecture. The silvery dome was one of the largest and highest in the world. The granite exterior gleamed in the light of a setting sun. Railings, door frames, and windows were made of gilded bronze.

  Marina sighed with impatience. She had many places to go today.

  Finally, the police chief appeared. He had a big, round, bald head and pale skin. His face had the wrinkles of an old man, but he moved energetically. A dark blue uniform fit his slim body perfectly and clearly had been custom tailored. Four gold stars decorated his collar.

  "Miss Sharp," he said. "This is unexpected."

  "Yes," Marina said, "and hopefully, it won't take long."

  The chief appraised Hanley visually but didn't comment.

  "Did you hear about the little girl who was thrown into the trunk of a car?" she said.

  The chief nodded. "Of course. It's the story of the day. I assigned a few guys to look into it."

  "Great. If they find anything, I want you to immediately relay the information to me. I'm very interested in this girl. Tell me before you tell anybody else."

  "Why?"

  "You know I can't give my reasons," Marina said. "All I can say is that it's extremely important to me. If you help me, I'll owe you a huge favor. You can have anything you want, and I mean anything."

  The chief frowned. "Are you going to hurt the girl?"

  "Of course not! I have to go. I have a lot more stops to make. You have my number, right?"

  "Sure."

  "Don't hesitate to use it," she said. "This is a very big deal. Bye."

  Marina walked off at a quick pace, and Hanley stayed with her.

  "We're lucky the chief was still in his office," he said. "It's almost dinner time."

  "We'll visit people at home in the middle of the night if we have to. This can't wait."

  * * *

  News vans lined both sides of the road. We're here, Katie thought. She parked behind a van with a big black "5" painted on the side and a microwave mast on top.

  She turned to Ipo who was in the passenger's seat of the sedan. His usual stern expression was back on his dark face.

  "You ready?" she said.

  He nodded slowly. "I guess so."

  "I've never seen you like this. Even when our headquarters was destroyed, you didn't seem so badly shaken."

  Ipo looked down and spoke softly. "Wesley climbed inside my head and ripped out all the lies by the roots. He showed me the report card written on my soul, and it wasn't entirely pretty. Ten years of psychotherapy in one minute. I'm a different man now."

  "What did you actually see?" Katie furrowed her brow.

  "The white light of truth. My mind soaked it up like a sponge. That light is inside Wesley, and it's what makes him so important. When he grows up, the light will spread, and it will change the world."

  "Now you're a prophet, too?"

  "It's obvious," he said. "Come on. We have work to do."

  The two legionnaires got out of the car. The sun was setting, but there was still plenty of light. Sticky heat lingered in the air after a sunny, clear day. August in the Bay Area wasn't much different from any other month in terms of weather, but today had been unusually warm.

  The witnesses from the news report lived in a brown, single-story house. The walls were made of wood and had vertical ribs, and asphalt shingles covered a nearly flat roof. There were only a few, small windows. The house was next to a busy highway, and the sound of continuous traffic reminded Katie of ocean waves.

  Some reporters were standing on the yellow grass in front of the house. They were writing notes, messing with their phones, or chatting with each other. Katie guessed they would leave soon.

  She was wearing a cheap but nice suit appropriate for an underpaid news professional. Ipo was wearing a sloppy green T-shirt, jeans, and a well-worn leather jacket. He had a very expensive camera hanging from a strap around his neck.

  They walked up to the front door of the house, and she knocked.

  After a moment, a man answered the door, and Katie immediately recognized the male witness. His thick beard was perfectly even beneath his chin, but his mustache, the front of his chin, and his scalp were shaved clean. His brown eyes were a little bloodshot.

  "Hi!" Katie said. "We're from the Berkeley Gazette, and we'd like to hear your story."

  "I've already told it twenty times."

  "Then you should be good at it. May we come in?"

  He frowned. "I suppose so." He stepped out of the way.

  Katie and Ipo went inside the small house. The living room, dining room, and family room were combined together. A tiny kitchen was visible through a door. Most of the furniture was made of plastic or particle board and had clearly been chosen for price rather than comfort. A yellow couch had thin foam pads which looked all but useless.

  Katie took out a notepad. "Your name is?"

  "Todd Sanders," the man said. "My wife is Becky."

  A woman came out of the kitchen. Her narrow face was smooth and pretty, but Katie didn't like her outfit. Becky was wearing a black and white, zebra stripe dress with a low neckline. A sapphire necklace was obviously costume jewelry. Katie guessed Becky had dressed up for the reporters.

  "Let's start with you telling us what you already told everybody else," Katie said.

  "Why?" Becky said.

  "Maybe you'll remember something new. You want this girl to be rescued, right? Seems like there is no such thing as too much publicity."

  Becky sighed. "OK. It happened in the parking lot of the Alpha Foods on Shoreline. The mother slapped the little girl three times. You
could hear it across the parking lot. The father kicked her hard enough to knock her down. Then they picked up the girl, dropped her in the trunk of the car, and drove off."

  Katie was watching very closely, but Becky wasn't showing any signs of lying. There was a slight twitchiness which Katie associated with drug use. She took notes for the sake of appearances.

  Ipo snapped some pictures of Todd and Becky. They posed together, and Ipo pressed the button a few more times.

  "Describe the people, please," Katie said.

  "The girl was very cute," Todd said. "Blonde, maybe eight years-old. Caucasian. Pink dress. The mother was a red-head, and the father had brown hair. He was big. The parents had sunglasses."

  "Can you describe the car?"

  "Err... no. I didn't really look."

  Katie raised her eyebrows in surprise.

  Ipo shifted his feet and crossed his arms. He clearly wasn't satisfied with the interview.

  "Boy," he rumbled in his powerful voice, "that highway noise is annoying."

  Todd glanced towards the highway behind the house. "I guess so."

  "You must've gotten a real deal though. What did you pay for this place?"

  "Uhh." Todd appeared confused. "Three hundred, I think."

  "Wow! For a single-family, detached home in Mountain View? What a steal. Is there a toxic waste dump buried underneath?"

  "We bought it a long time ago."

  "You don't seem that old," Ipo said.

  "Our parents lived in it before us."

  "Whose parents? Yours or Becky's?"

  Todd looked to Becky for help. He was clearly tangled up in his own lies, but Katie didn't see signs of guilt. It was a peculiar reaction.

  "I don't know," Becky said hesitantly. "I forgot."

  Ipo stared. "Really? Seems like a strange thing to forget."

  She shrugged.

  He looked down. "I noticed the carpet is new."

  "It is?" She knelt down and touched the cheap, yellow carpet. "Oh. We had water damage and replaced it."

  "It hasn't rained in months."

  "There was a fire," Todd interjected. "The water was from the fire hoses."

  "Which part of the house burned?" Ipo asked. "I didn't see any damage on the outside."