by Siegel, Alex
Her eyes widened. "Those are the technicians who are setting up the sound and lighting in the arena. We saw several of their trucks over there."
Aaron felt a tingle of excitement. This investigation was finally gaining traction. He moved to a quiet spot, took out his phone, and called Perry.
"Sir?" Perry said.
"I need a quick background check." Aaron read the name and driver's license number from the wallet.
After a moment, Perry said, "Lighting technician. Union member. Gun enthusiast. Several arrests for assault and battery but only one conviction. He has an apartment in Romeoville."
"Also, a member of Pure America. I want to know more about this guy. Keep digging."
"Yes, sir," Perry said.
Aaron hung up and called Norbert. "See the man in blue with the hideous mullet?"
Norbert and Tawni were still hiding in the weeds nearby. They were doing a good job of being invisible. Aaron had spotted them only a few times.
"You mean the one Sheryl just pick-pocketed?" Norbert said.
"Yes. When he leaves, follow him. He could be our assassin. Perry is already doing a full background check."
"Yes, sir," Norbert responded enthusiastically.
Aaron closed his phone. He walked over to Smythe who was still rubbing his eyes. Soot marked his face. Sheryl was already there with a very worried expression. Several other people had gathered to offer unwanted, useless medical advice.
"You OK?" Aaron said.
"Stings," Smythe said, "but I'll be fine."
Aaron wasn't actually concerned. He could tell Smythe was just acting hurt.
Aaron pushed the stolen wallet into Sheryl's hand and whispered, "Put it back."
She nodded slightly.
Aaron walked over to Olaf and the lighting technician. They were murmuring to each other like a couple of spies. As Aaron approached, the technician abruptly left and went to the tables with the food.
"How is your cousin?" Olaf said.
"Fine," Aaron said. "Just a little smoke in his eyes."
"Good."
"Hey, you want to go shooting after this party is over?"
Olaf shook his head. "I was planning on drinking with the boys tonight."
He sounded sincere. This response comforted Aaron because it meant Pure America wasn't going to try anything tonight at the convention. There was enough time for a careful investigation.
"How about tomorrow morning?" Aaron said. "I'll bring a special toy."
Olaf raised his eyebrows. "What kind of toy?"
"That would spoil the surprise, but I guarantee you've never fired one before. You've probably only seen them in movies."
Olaf's eyes widened.
"I know an old aircraft hangar," Aaron said. "It was abandoned twenty years ago. Nobody will bother us there. Do you have some kind of e-mail or text number? I'll send you directions. The place is hard to find."
"I'm just [email protected]."
"That's easy. Check your e-mail when you get home. I want to do this real early in the morning when the cops are still drinking coffee and eating donuts. We're going to make a lot of noise."
Olaf nodded. "That sounds smart. Six AM?"
"Perfect." Aaron smiled. "See you then."
He walked off.
He looked for Sheryl. She was at the food table with the lighting technician.
She dropped his wallet at his feet when he was looking the other way. She called his attention to the wallet on the ground. He picked it up and thanked her for noticing. Obviously, he assumed it had just fallen out of his pocket.
She's a natural, Aaron thought.
He signaled for her and Smythe to join him.
When the team was together, Aaron said, "It's time to go. The show begins in the United Center in two hours, and we have to be there."
"Why, sir?" Sheryl said.
"Just in case."
They started walking back to the car.
Aaron took out his phone to call the legate. It was time to give her an update.
She didn't answer. Her phone didn't even ring, which meant it was turned off or destroyed. Aaron's heart started beating faster. He quickly dialed Boreas' number.
The bodyguard answered immediately, "Hello?"
"This is Aaron. I'm trying to reach the legate."
"She disappeared."
"What?" Aaron said in too loud a voice. "Why didn't you tell me right away?"
"I don't think she's in danger. She had a tender moment with Haley on the cruise ship and then freaked out. I haven't seen her since. I assume she's hiding until she calms down."
"What kind of tender moment?"
Boreas hesitated. "It's possible she's falling in love with him."
This news stunned Aaron. "That would explain Wesley's mysterious comment on the phone."
"If she shows up, I'll tell her to call you. I'm still with the President. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Just keep him safe in her absence. Smythe, Sheryl, and I will be at the convention tonight. If a situation develops, we'll be right on top of it."
"I'll look for you," Boreas said.
Aaron closed his phone.
"What's happening, sir?" Smythe said. "A problem with the legate?"
"She might be in love with the President," Aaron replied softly. "I'm not sure if I should be happy, amused, or afraid. Either way, she's not handling it well."
Smythe and Sheryl stared in obvious disbelief.
Chapter Eight
Tawni felt a bug crawling across the back of her leg. She silently brushed it off. She couldn't do anything about the sun beating down on her head though. She hated working outdoors. Why couldn't the bad guys stick to air-conditioned offices?
The Pure America barbecue was finally winding down. Aaron, Smythe, and Sheryl had left hours ago. Norbert and Tawni had stayed behind to watch a bunch of racist bastards get drunk. She wanted to kill them in the worst possible way.
Finally, the lighting technician with the mullet started walking to his car. Norbert and Tawni had already attached a tracking device to the frame. Perry had provided a description and a license plate number, so finding the right car had been trivial.
"Let's move," Norbert said.
Tawni followed him through the brush in a crouched position. They went down the road, dashing from cover to cover, until they reached their own car. It was a brown sedan with rust spots on the bottoms of the panels. It looked like crap, but the brand new engine was a turbocharged V-8.
Norbert sat behind the wheel and Tawni rode shotgun. She pulled out the receiver for the tracking device from under the seat.
"We got a clear signal," she said. "The target is moving. Drive east."
He started the car and drove. The oversized engine purred like a lion.
"Those crackers didn't impress me," she said. "They seemed kind of stupid. It's hard to believe they can get to the President."
He glanced at her. "When you use racist language, you lower yourself to their level."
"Excuse me. Those rural Caucasian gentlemen were most unremarkable in regards to their perspicacity. It seems improbable that they would have the wherewithal to penetrate the Secret Service bulwark that envelops Mr. Haley."
"Indubitably. Nonetheless, our commander's mandate was unequivocal. We must persevere in our assignment."
She gave him a dirty look. He smiled smugly.
"For such a humble guy," she said, "you can be awful proud sometimes."
His smile vanished.
They followed the lighting technician back towards Chicago. He turned off the highway in a thinly populated suburb south-west of the city. After several turns, they arrived at a white apartment building which looked like it had only four apartments. Exterior stairs provided access to the upper story. Norbert parked across the street.
Tawni called Perry on her phone.
"Hello, ma'am," he answered.
"We followed the technician to an apartment building in Romeo
ville." Tawni gave the address.
"He lives there."
"We sweated in the stinking weeds for hours just to watch a guy go home?"
"Yes," Perry said.
She snapped her phone closed.
"We need to search his apartment," Norbert said. "It's a shame we didn't do it earlier when he wasn't here."
"Why does that matter?" Tawni said. "Let's just go in there, tie him up, and take the damn place apart."
"Which would tell Pure America they're in big trouble and possibly ruin the operation. That's not acceptable. I'm sure Aaron would agree with me."
She wrinkled her nose in frustration. He was right. Sometimes, having an experienced partner was a great annoyance.
"We'll wait for him to go to bed," she said slowly. "We'll sneak in there and give him a drug to keep him asleep. Then we'll search the place carefully without making a mess. When he wakes up in the morning, he won't know anything happened."
He nodded. "That's a good plan. Let's have dinner while we wait. I'm starving. We should also drop by headquarters, change our clothes, and pick up whatever we'll need for this job."
* * *
Aaron was sitting on a steel beam in the United Center. His feet were hanging over a hundred vertical feet of empty space, and the floor below was packed with people. Falling from this height would kill him and maybe one or two innocent bystanders besides.
He could see nearly everything from up here. He was using a pair of binoculars to scan the sea of excited faces. The arena could hold twenty thousand people, and it was full tonight. Delegates occupied about a quarter of the seating and were closest to the main stage. The Democratic Party faithful filled the rest. The excited buzz reminded him of a rock concert.
A sniper rifle was on the beam beside Aaron. The weapon fired .338 Lapua Magnum rounds which were powerful enough to take down large game and accurate at distances beyond a kilometer. In the relatively close quarters of the arena, he could literally shoot a button off a man's shirt.
Aaron located Smythe and Sheryl. The legionnaires were dressed as FBI agents. They had their backs against the main stage and were facing the audience. They seemed attentive but a little bored.
Aaron was sympathetic. He didn't expect much to happen tonight. The President wasn't scheduled to appear on stage until tomorrow and then only briefly. Opening night was reserved for lesser political lights so they could have their shining moment before the big boys took over. Haley would dominate the final day. His handsome face would be the last thing the audience saw and their strongest memory from the convention. If Aaron were an assassin trying to make a bold statement, he would strike then.
Aaron continued to scan the crowd regardless. He could always be surprised.
* * *
President Haley was in the locker room of the Chicago Blackhawks hockey team. It was a large, square room suitable for a celebration. Wooden lockers ran along the walls. The most prominent feature was a large Indianhead logo in the middle of the floor. An orange plastic fence surrounded the logo to prevent ignorant visitors from accidently walking on it. Apparently, the fine for that offense was "a hundred dollars and a punch in the face."
Dignitaries in expensive suits filled the room. All the important people had come here to escape the riff-raff in the arena. They could nibble from a buffet table laden with fruit, cheese, and wine.
The Secret Service had chosen this location for security reasons. There were no windows, the walls were made of cinderblocks, and access could be completely controlled. Getting into the room involved passing through multiple security checkpoints. Haley was effectively in a bunker surrounded by layers of armed guards.
Nonetheless, he didn't feel particularly safe. Ethel was still missing. In less than two days, that strange and magical woman had somehow become the focus of his life.
Haley walked over to Boreas who was dressed as a Secret Service agent. Ethel's bodyguard had become Haley's bodyguard in her absence.
"Any word?" Haley whispered.
Boreas shook his head. "No."
"Where could she be?"
"God only knows. She has her phone. She'll turn it on if she needs help, but I doubt that will happen. She's a very tough lady."
"Is this kind of behavior normal for her?" Haley said.
"No, and it's disappointing. She has enormous responsibilities and needs to be reachable at all times."
"That sounds like my job."
Boreas responded with a cool look.
"Why is she so upset?" Haley said.
"You'll have to ask her when she shows up. I can't speak for her."
"Can we talk to somebody else? Maybe Aaron?"
"Aaron is busy doing his duty," Boreas said. "He's in the arena looking for trouble with his team."
"Does Ethel have a boss? Can you call him?"
"I'm sure her Boss is already aware of the situation. Go back to your party, sir. Have fun. Ethel will appear when she wants to appear and not a second earlier."
Haley frowned and walked off. He wasn't in a mood to have fun.
* * *
Tawni crept towards the front door of the lighting technician's apartment on the balls of her feet. Norbert was guarding her back.
They had changed into black and gray tights suitable for a night operation. She loved how the light fabric allowed free movement, but it wasn't much protection from the cool air. She was slightly chilled. A Kevlar vest gave her a little comfort.
She took out her lock picks and went to work on the cheap lock. A minute later, the door was open. Aaron would've complained she had taken too much time, but she was satisfied with her performance.
Tawni and Norbert slipped inside. They were perfectly silent as they padded through the dark apartment. They quickly found the bedroom where the lighting technician was sleeping. He appeared to be alone.
Norbert took a squirt bottle from his utility belt. He sprayed a fine mist into the technician's nose. Tawni stayed well back and held her breath.
Norbert checked the man's pulse. "Let's get to work."
She turned on the light.
A messy bedroom made her wrinkle her nose with disgust. Dirty clothes were all over the floor, and foot odor emanating from old sneakers wafted through the air.
Norbert held a bomb detector which looked like a portable vacuum cleaner. He turned it on, and Tawni heard the whir of fans.
"I'll check in here," he said.
"Fine by me," she responded.
She left the bedroom to search other parts of the small apartment. Stacks of pamphlets, magazines, and videos were on the kitchen table. They had titles like "White Rights" and "The Genetic Destiny of Man." She wanted to set fire to the whole pile of racist shit. It took all her self-control to look the other way.
The rest of the kitchen was as disgusting as the bedroom, but she held her nose and dove in. She picked through all the garbage, checking every bit of soiled paper. She found nothing of interest. She painstakingly put all the garbage back exactly as she had found it.
Tawni eventually moved to a second bedroom. Pieces of lighting and sound equipment were stacked on the floor in place of a bed. Shelves held a great assortment of tools. Two disco mirror balls hung from the ceiling. A long wooden workbench stood in the corner.
Norbert entered. He waved his bomb detector back and forth as he walked around the room. When he reached the workbench, he stopped and swept it several times.
"Find anything?" Tawni said.
"Yeah. TNT molecules. Our friend was working on a bomb here."
She took a closer look at the workbench. The surface was littered with small hand tools.
"Look around for more evidence," Norbert said.
She checked the rest of the room carefully and found nothing of interest, but she wasn't sure what to look for. She didn't know a lot about building bombs.
"I think the bomb is gone," she said. "Maybe it's already at the arena."
"I doubt the bad guys plan to use it tonight. Oth
erwise, the technician would've stayed awake. I'll call Aaron."
Norbert dialed Aaron and put the phone in speaker mode so Tawni could hear.
"Yes?" the commander said.
"We're at the technician's apartment. We found evidence he was working with dynamite, but the bomb isn't here."
"Where is the technician?"
"Unconscious, sir," Norbert said. "We gave him a sedative. We can probably wake him up with a stimulant if we have to. Should we interrogate him?"
"No. I can't condone torture at this point in the investigation. It's too early."
"Then what should we do?"
Aaron paused. "Plant some bugs, go home, and sleep. Come back in the morning and follow the technician. Hopefully, he'll lead you to the bomb. If he doesn't, we'll figure out a plan B."
"Yes, sir. How are things at the convention?"
"Winding down. I was about to head home, too. I'm exhausted, and I'm going shooting with Olaf at dawn tomorrow. Good night."
"Night, sir." Norbert closed his phone.
* * *
Haley was in bed when something woke him up. The clock showed 1:30 AM. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement. There was an intruder in his bedroom.
The presidential suite was guarded day and night by squads of Secret Service agents who controlled the whole floor. In addition, Boreas was sleeping on the couch outside Haley's bedroom. He knew of only one person who might be able to slip past all that security.
"Hello, Ethel," Haley said. "I'm glad your back. I was worried." He turned on the nightstand light.
Ethel was standing at the foot of the bed. She was still wearing the gray dress from the party on the cruise ship, but now it was dirty and torn. She held her silver-plated machetes in her hands. Blood was spattered across her chest, and it didn't seem to be hers. Her pupils were so large there was almost no white left. She looked like a demonic killer from a horror movie.
Boreas appeared at the doorway wearing only his underwear. "Ma'am!"
Ethel faced him and spoke in a humble tone, "I'm very sorry about my behavior today. It was inexcusable, and no apology is sufficient. I will say the madness has passed, and it won't happen again. Let me speak with Roy privately."