Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8)
Page 13
"Yes, ma'am." Boreas backed out and closed the door.
Ethel turned back to Haley. She was more frightening now than ever before. Her machetes were smeared with blood. Her whole body was poised in an attack position.
"Whose blood is that?" he said.
She looked down at her chest. "I was running through the city when I saw a bank robbery in progress. The cops were there. The robbers were holding hostages. I held back and didn't kill the bad men."
"What did you do?"
"I cut off their hands and let the police take them."
He swallowed. "You're a model of restraint."
"I thought so." There was no irony in her voice.
"What's wrong with you?"
She furrowed her brow. She placed her machetes on the end of the bed and began to take off her soiled clothes.
"When I'm with you," she said, "I have feelings."
"That's normal, isn't it?"
"They're a weakness. A person in my position can't afford those feelings. I thought I had rid myself of them many years ago. They came back with a vengeance today, and I was overwhelmed."
She placed her dress on the bed. Small guns and knives were strapped to her body, and she took those off, too.
"That's ridiculous," he said.
"God agrees with you. He set me up. He's always teaching lessons."
She was naked now. The total lack of fat made her appear gaunt, but she had plenty of lean muscle. She certainly wasn't weak. Her body was exotic and fascinating, but he couldn't call her beautiful in the conventional sense. Nothing about her was conventional. She was perfect in her own unique way.
She just stood there. He waited. Whatever she wanted to do, he would agree with. He wasn't stupid enough to argue with her.
Eventually, she said, "I'm going to bed. I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning."
She walked out, leaving her clothes and weapons behind.
He exhaled with relief.
He leaned forward and grabbed one of the machetes. The silver plating was gorgeous. The weapon was lighter than he expected, and he wondered if it was made from an alloy instead of regular steel. He touched the sharp edge and accidently nicked his finger. Like Ethel, her blades needed very careful handling, but it was worth it.
* * *
Aaron saw the aircraft hangar in the distance. Rust had eaten through the galvanized steel walls in a few places. Vines had grown over one side. Weeds and weather had shattered the surrounding pavement.
He had listened to news radio during the long drive from headquarters. Two stories dominated the headlines, and one was the convention. According to the experts, last night's show had been a great success. Aaron didn't understand that conclusion. The speeches had struck him as uninspired, repetitive, and blatantly manipulative. The audience had responded with obligatory enthusiasm. Overall, the night had been good political theater and nothing more.
The other story was about an explosion in France. A blast had demolished a laboratory in the Institut de Recherche Nucléaire, killing several scientists and technicians. The circumstances were suspicious, but Aaron didn't let himself think about it. France was part of the European division of the Society. Some team over there would investigate if necessary.
He was driving a black pickup truck. He stopped on the dirt shoulder of the narrow road.
He turned to Sheryl who was sitting beside him. She had both hands wrapped around a big travel mug full of coffee. Her eyes were bloodshot. She was wearing green camouflage tights, and a matching green hairnet held back her hair. Basic tools and light weapons hung from her utility belt. She was equipped for reconnaissance not combat.
"Why are we here so damn early in the morning, sir?" she whined.
"I didn't want to waste any part of the day," Aaron said. "Be glad I didn't have you work the night shift in the security booth like Smythe last night, or me the night before. Get out. Watch for trouble. If you see any, call me."
She hopped out of the pickup truck. Still clutching her coffee mug, she walked into the surrounding woods.
They were at an abandoned airport in a rural part of Illinois. Aaron drove over to the hangar and parked inside. Morning sunlight streamed through big holes in the roof. Piles of bird droppings marked the floor. It was very quiet.
He checked his watch. He wasn't surprised to find that Olaf was late.
A short time later, another pickup truck entered the hangar. It was big and blue, and a row of floodlights was mounted on the roof.
Olaf got out. He was wearing the green and brown camouflage of a hunter. He took a .50 caliber sniper rifle out of his truck.
Aaron stepped out of his own truck with a smile. "You brought a toy."
"You ever fire one of these?" Olaf held up the rifle.
Only about a hundred thousand times, Aaron thought. "I brought something, too." He walked around to the back of his truck and yanked off a plastic tarp with a dramatic flourish. "The Heckler & Koch GMG. German engineering at its finest."
The long muzzle was so big he could fit three fingers into the bore. The body of the gun was a complex, rectangular mechanism with multiple sights. A belt fed grenades from an ammunition box on the side. The grenades were much larger than any bullet and looked more like miniature cannon shells.
Olaf approached with an expression of awe. "Holy fuck."
"It fires 40 mm grenades at 350 rounds per minute. The effective range is 1500 meters. This thing can seriously mess up your day. I only have 100 rounds, so we'll have to use short bursts."
Olaf put his pathetic rifle back in his truck.
Setting up the grenade launcher took several minutes. It was mounted on a heavy steel tripod like a machine gun. All together, the weapon weighed over a hundred pounds.
Finally, Aaron and Olaf were ready to have fun. They stuffed ear plugs into their ears and also used plastic ear muffs.
"Go ahead," Aaron said. "Take the first shot."
Olaf aimed at a pile of rusty equipment in the far corner. Aaron ducked down behind his truck in case a piece of shrapnel came back at him. Firing live grenades in an enclosed space wasn't normally recommended.
Olaf rattled off a burst of three grenades. Even with the ear protection, the weapon made an unbelievable amount of noise. It shook Aaron's whole body. Dust drifted down from the roof.
He stood up to check the damage. The equipment in the corner had been shredded, and there were big holes in the wall.
"Fuck, yeah!" Olaf yelled.
He walked over for a closer look at the destruction. He stopped half-way and looked at the floor instead. The concrete at his feet had been shattered in a circular pattern, as if an enormous wrecking ball had crushed it. A puddle of steel had melted and solidified at the center.
"What happened here?" Olaf said.
Aaron knew the answer. One of God's enemies had struck that spot during his first mission. The cult leader known as Simon had died there. His ashes were mixed with the steel.
Aaron heard a muffled phone ring. He realized it was his, and he quickly pulled off his ear protection.
He put the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
"This is Sheryl, sir. You have a lot of company. They look like FBI. They're surrounding the building."
Olaf was followed, Aaron thought. His mind jumped to several conclusions.
"I'm going to get arrested," he said. "Tell Smythe what's going on. Have him notify the legate if she can be reached. I want you to follow my phone signal and stay near me."
"Yes, sir, but I don't have a vehicle."
"I'll leave the keys in the truck." He put his phone away.
Olaf came over with a curious expression. "Who was that?"
"My fucking lawyer." Aaron spat. "My ex-wife is trying to get more money out of me. Greedy bitch."
He walked over to his truck and dropped the keys on the seat. Then he went to the grenade launcher. He put his ear protection back on.
Olaf hurried to get behind the line of fire.
Most of the wall fell out. Some cowering FBI agents stared through the hole at Aaron. He waved at them.
Other agents flooded into the hangar with their guns out. Aaron calmly knelt on the floor and put his hands behind his head.
* * *
"Thank you, Mr. Felt," Ethel said. "You've been very helpful. I'm indebted to you." She snapped her phone closed.
She got out of bed. She rummaged in her luggage until she found a gray bathrobe and slipped it on. Getting dressed properly could wait until after she dealt with more urgent business.
She remembered she had left her weapons in Roy's bedroom including her precious machetes. She shook her head in dismay at her own ridiculous behavior. She hadn't been thinking clearly at all. A tidal wave of emotion had carried her to places she hadn't visited in decades. Hopefully, some sleep had restored her equilibrium.
She walked across the suite. Boreas was sleeping on the couch, and she didn't wake him up. Her footsteps were perfectly silent.
She peeked into Roy's bedroom and found him snoozing peacefully also.
Ethel watched his chest rise and fall. He was a magnificent man. He was kind, generous, warm, and compassionate. People loved him because he genuinely loved people. He could stand in the brightest public spotlight and not feel the least bit self-conscious. He led with inspiration instead of fear or intimidation. In other words, he was the exact opposite of Ethel in almost every way.
Why did this happen, God? she thought. Why did I fall in love with a man I can't have? Why is my life so out of control?
Because the time had come, God replied.
She rolled her eyes. The Lord rarely gave her a straight answer.
Ethel sat on the bed beside Haley and tapped him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes and became startled when he saw her. She didn't mind. She always got that reaction.
"We have a problem," she said. "My man, Aaron, was just arrested by the FBI."
He sat up. "Why?"
"He was with Olaf Wagner, leader of Pure America. They were shooting weapons together. Aaron was about to get information out of Olaf when the FBI showed up and arrested both of them."
"Were the weapons dangerous?"
"Knowing Aaron," she said, "I'm sure they were extremely dangerous and illegal."
"Then the FBI acted properly."
"I asked Director Felt to look into the matter. The FBI was tailing Olaf because of a request from the Secret Service. To be specific, Director Seferis made the request personally."
Haley's face fell with obvious disappointment.
"Now, we have a mess," Ethel said. "If Aaron is simply released, Olaf will become suspicious. A valuable source of information will be lost. I did ask Director Felt to keep the prisoners together so Aaron can continue to work on Olaf, but Aaron can't stay in jail for long. He has a team to lead and crucial duties to perform. He must be released this morning."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Use your awesome executive powers to fix it. I'm going to take a shower and get dressed."
Her weapons were in a neat pile on the floor, and she gathered them up. When she left the bedroom, she found Boreas had woken up. He was stretching his massive arms.
He nodded to her. "Good morning, ma'am. Feeling better?"
"Good morning," she said. "Again, I must apologize for my behavior. It was shameful. I'm feeling much better."
"Already forgiven and forgotten."
Ethel went into the bathroom, put her weapons down, and turned on the shower. In her eyes, the world always moved in slow motion. She watched the individual droplets take a journey from the shower head to the tub. Just for fun, she weaved her hand between the flying droplets without touching them.
When the water was hot, she began to wash off the sweat and grime from last night. The realization she loved Roy had thrown her into a strange kind of madness. She had avoided that emotion most of her life, and it had ambushed her.
She knew why she distrusted love so much. As a young woman, long before joining the Society, she had given birth. The infant had died a few months later. On that day, she had sworn she would never allow herself to feel love again. Now that promise was broken beyond repair.
She finished washing up. She wrapped herself in a towel, grabbed her weapons, and went to her bedroom.
Unfortunately, she had to wear her black Secret Service suit again. She hated this particular costume. It made her look like she was pretending to be a man. She wanted to be pretty for Roy instead.
She stopped herself. I'm turning into a bubble-headed teenage girl, she thought. This whole experience is humiliating.
When Ethel was properly dressed and armed, she went back to Haley's bedroom. She didn't bother to knock before entering. Asking permission wasn't her habit.
He was pulling on his underwear. He blushed and tried to cover himself when she walked in.
"Sorry." She turned around.
"You have terrible manners," he said.
"It's because I don't care. What's happening with Aaron?"
"I made some calls. Your man will be released within an hour or two. Is that acceptable?"
"I suppose."
"A thank you would be appropriate," Haley said.
"Aaron is trying very hard to save your life. It's in your best interests to get him released. You should thank me for bringing the matter to your attention."
"You never explained why my life is suddenly so important to you. Why am I getting so much personal attention from the powerful and mysterious Miss Pickenpaugh, when I didn't even know you existed before?"
"I can't tell you," Ethel said.
He grunted. "You and your damned secrets."
"If I started revealing the truth, you'd become one of us, and that would be very problematic. It's better this way. Did you talk to Seferis yet?"
"That's my next unpleasant task." His shoulders sagged.
He finished getting dressed. She turned back around and found him wearing a blue suit with a tiny American flag pinned to the lapel. He was so handsome she wanted to kiss him on the lips.
This is a disaster, she thought. God, are you amused?
Very much, God replied. Did you think I would forget what you did to Aaron and Marina last winter?
Ethel and Haley left the suite together. Secret Service agents were posted up and down the hallway. The men in black body armor snapped to attention when they saw the President walking past.
"By the way, how did you get into my suite last night?"
"I descended from the roof and entered through the window," Ethel said.
"That's insane. Did you use a rope?"
"No. Why would I?"
He furrowed his brow.
He knocked on another door and yelled, "Mr. Seferis, I need to speak with you immediately!"
A moment later, the door opened, and the Director of the Secret Service looked out. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. He was a well-built man by normal standards, but he would've made an inferior legionnaire.
He looked at the President and then turned his attention to Ethel. The relationship between Seferis and her had started badly and had never improved. She was comfortable with the situation though. Hatred and distrust were emotions she understood well.
"What's wrong, sir?" Seferis said.
"The FBI arrested one of Miss Pickenpaugh's people this morning," Haley said, "and it's your fault. You asked the FBI to investigate Pure America after I ordered you to keep your hands off. You tried to sneak one past me."
Ethel knew how she would've handled such blatant insubordination and betrayal. Seferis would already be a headless corpse.
He stood at attention. "Those morons at the FBI weren't supposed to interfere. I
was very clear, sir."
"That's not the point."
Seferis glanced at Ethel with obvious loathing. "My job is to protect you and investigate threats against your life. If you're telling me I'm not allowed to do my job, maybe I should find another one."
"That's not what I'm saying at all. You can investigate all the threats you want except for Pure America. Another department has that case."
"Now she's a department?" Seferis raised his eyebrows.
"This is an official reprimand, George," Haley said. "The next time it happens, maybe you will lose your job. Don't make me look like a fool again."
"Yes, sir." Seferis lowered his eyes.
Haley headed back to his suite at a quick walk. Ethel stayed with him.
"That's it?" she said. "He just gets a warning?"
"Seferis is a good man. Extremely dedicated. I'm not going to fire him for trying to do the right thing. I don't mind people making mistakes as long as their intentions are noble."
She shook her head in dismay. His response made no sense to her.
He sighed. "I need coffee. It's going to be another long day."
"More fundraisers?" The thought was depressing. After two days of attending party after party, she never wanted to smell champagne again.
"I may have a meeting where an actual decision is made, but let's not get our hopes up."
Chapter Nine
Kamal walked into the white concrete entry chamber of headquarters. The bright lights always made him feel like he was under a microscope. There was nothing to hide behind except a small, wicker couch.
Smythe was in the security booth. His slack face looked out from behind the bulletproof glass. He was obviously exhausted.
"Good morning, sir," Kamal said.
"Your shift starts in fifteen minutes."
"Yes, sir. I didn't forget."
The side door buzzed. Kamal hurried out of the entry chamber and went straight to the kitchen. He started the coffee machine. While that was going, he ate a banana and a bagel. Shifts in the security booth lasted eight hours, and there were no breaks for meals. He could only ask his teammates to bring him snacks and drinks. At least the booth had its own restroom.
The coffee finished brewing. He filled the biggest mug he could find, carried it into his science lab, and sat behind his desk.