Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8)

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Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8) Page 23

by Siegel, Alex


  Boreas was standing on the other side of a clearing. She nodded to him. He threw a large stone like a pitcher hurling a baseball. She swung her sword and struck the center of the stone, cleaving it cleanly. She looked down at the two pieces on the ground. The cut was perfectly smooth as if a diamond saw had made it. Even solid rock couldn't stop a weapon coated in God's wrath. Nothing could.

  "Enjoying your new toy?" Ethel said.

  Tawni spun and looked into the eyes of the legate. Her pupils were holes in space that destroyed all light and warmth. Tawni's heart skipped a beat.

  "Yes, ma'am," she squeaked.

  "Boreas?" Ethel gave her bodyguard a dirty look.

  "I was helping her train, ma'am," Boreas said.

  "Looked like screwing around to me."

  She picked up a piece of chopped stone. She ran her fingers across the polished surface of the cut.

  "What do you think, ma'am?" Tawni said.

  "You have a powerful gift. Use it wisely and with restraint. The Lord will not forgive you if you abuse it. Aaron called. An Air Force general is behind the plot to kill the President."

  Tawni's eyes widened. "How did he figure that out?"

  "He'll explain when he gets here. It sounds like we're going to see some action tonight."

  Tawni grinned. Aaron plus action equaled fun times.

  * * *

  Kamal watched Bethany and Leanna with a mixture of jealousy and awe. They were performing the famous "Maxwell's Demon" experiment on a beaker of water. The idea had been proposed by James Clerk Maxwell in 1871. He had suggested using a tiny "demon" to separate hot molecules from cold, which would violate the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Later physicists had shown that such a thing was impossible. Lowering entropy in one place always raised entropy somewhere else. The total amount always increased. The proof involved complex equations, but no serious scientist doubted the Second Law these days.

  Apparently, the twins did. The water in the bottom half of the beaker was frozen solid, and the top half was boiling.

  It wasn't fair that they were so smart and knew so much. Kamal has spent his whole life studying physics. He considered himself one of the top experts in the world. Compared to the twins, he was a bumbling ignoramus. God had given them the keys to the universe and permission to open any door. They could ask any question, and the Lord would answer it. Meanwhile, Kamal had to watch from the sidelines like a stupid cheerleader.

  "Are you mad at me?" he said.

  "We're not capable of feeling anger," Bethany replied in her synthetic voice. Her attention remained focused on the beaker.

  "I meant no harm."

  "We told you the plasma bottle technology was privileged information. I don't see how sharing it with outsiders could not cause harm."

  Kamal looked down. "I'm sorry."

  "Your apology is irrelevant," Bethany said.

  "Do you think Aaron will kill me?"

  "I think he'll give you a fair hearing. I suggest you decide what you'll say to him instead of asking us useless questions."

  "Do you care if I die?" he said. "Do you even like me?"

  "I think you're a fine scientist."

  "That didn't answer my question."

  She finally looked at him. Her crystal eyes gleamed in the bright lights of the science laboratory. "Your death is undesirable."

  "Then could you put in a good word for me?" he said. "Aaron listens to you. If you tell him to not kill me, he probably won't."

  She faced the beaker again. "No."

  He sighed and tried to be brave.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Roy Haley was sitting in a study which was classic in every detail. Old books with impressively erudite titles filled tall bookcases. There was a big fireplace which burned real wood instead of gas. The large, traditional desk was stained almost black. French doors opened onto a balcony with a pretty view of native woodlands. Cool, fresh air was blowing into the room.

  Haley had two people with him. His chief campaign manager, Doug Irvine, sat across a table. His expensive, tailored suit was rumpled. His jowls sagged even more than usual, and he had circles under his eyes. At least his gray hair looked recently combed.

  The other guest was Sandra Holt, head of the convention planning committee. Her clothing was sunshine yellow, as always. She had thought her job was done when the convention had started. She had been wrong.

  "It's going to take at least two weeks to get the convention up and running again," she complained. "The damage to the United Center will take months to repair, so we have to find another venue. We've just begun those negotiations. You can't book a large arena without plenty of advance notice."

  Haley shook his head. "Unacceptable. We can't ask four thousand delegates to hang around Chicago for that long. How are they going to find accommodations? They have families and jobs to get back to. We don't need much. I just want to call an official vote, accept the nomination, and give a rousing speech. We could do it in a high school football stadium. Find something for tomorrow."

  Her face paled. "You're joking, right? Tomorrow? That's physically impossible, sir."

  "Sandra, this is your opportunity to be a hero to the entire Democratic Party, to the nation. It's a truly historic moment. Make it happen."

  She swallowed.

  "Doug," Haley said, "how does the election landscape look?"

  Doug smiled. "Pure America is the best thing that ever happened to your campaign, sir. The whole world is talking about the evils of racism. Millions of people will vote for you now just because they feel obligated to reelect an African-American. Even your opponents are being forced to take your side. Don't get me wrong. I feel terrible for the victims who were injured and killed, but from an ugly, selfish point of view, this disaster pretty much locked up the election for us. Your news conference this morning was brilliant. Even I cried."

  "Which reminds me. Sandra, we need to have a memorial service for the victims tomorrow. Doug, for the record, I don't like that ugly, selfish point of view."

  "Yes, sir," Doug said sheepishly.

  George Seferis walked into the study without bothering to knock. The Secret Service Director looked like he had seen a ghost. He was shuffling his feet, and his gaze wandered.

  "Looks like I have another meeting," Haley said. "I'll call you on the phone later."

  Doug and Sandra left the room.

  "What's wrong?" Haley said with genuine concern.

  Seferis sat down on a couch. "Something happened."

  "Tell me."

  "You remember my sister?"

  "The one with AIDS?" Haley joined Seferis on the couch. "As I recall, Miss Pickenpaugh wanted her to fly to Los Angeles, but you were reluctant."

  Seferis nodded. "I sent my sister to Los Angeles after all. I figured it couldn't hurt. She was dying anyway. This morning, a strange woman came to her hotel room. White hair, pink skin, red eyes. Probably an albino. She told my sister she was a very special kind of doctor."

  "Then what happened?"

  Seferis cleared his throat. "According to my sister, the doctor's skin began to glow with a blinding white light. It looked like her hair was on fire. It sounds crazy, doesn't it? Then the doctor gave my sister a hug." He looked down. "Do you believe in miracles?"

  "Lately, I've started to," Haley said.

  "My sister had a very hard time describing the experience. She claimed she could hear the heartbeat of the universe. A billion watts of healing energy blasted through her body. She was babbling and crying like a little girl. This woman is a criminal defense lawyer. She never breaks down."

  "What about the AIDS?"

  "The doctor claimed the disease is gone," Seferis said. "My sister believes it. She'll get tested, of course. We'll see if it's true. The doctor left without giving her name or asking to be paid."

  Haley furrowed his brow and sat back. He didn't doubt the sister was healed. His repaired heart was proof enough of Ethel's miraculous capabilities.

  "Nex
t time you see Miss Pickenpaugh, you'll have to thank her."

  "I don't know if I can, sir," Seferis said. "I'll give it a shot."

  "Any word on the Pure America prisoners?"

  "All still missing. A body was found in a field south of Chicago. The victim was burned after suffering many crippling injuries. His wrists were bound with barbed wire. Evidence suggests it might be Olaf Wagner, but identification has been difficult."

  Haley sighed. This was the dark side of Ethel's work. She gave life with one hand and took it with the other.

  "You're correct," a new voice said. "That was Olaf. I broke his bones, flayed his skin, and roasted him alive. And I enjoyed it."

  Haley spun around. Ethel walked in from the balcony. She was wearing black and gray tights with a striped camouflage pattern. Body armor, a combat helmet, and a military-style utility belt gave her a rugged appearance. In addition to an assortment of ordinary weapons, her machetes were strapped across her back, and the handles were in easy reach.

  "Freeze!" Seferis said. He was holding a gun aimed at her chest.

  "Lower the weapon," Ethel said calmly, "or I swear to God, you will lose that hand. I have no more patience with your foolishness."

  Haley looked into her enlarged, impossibly dark pupils. "George, put the gun away now."

  Seferis reluctantly holstered the gun.

  "Mr. Seferis," Ethel said, "the next time you do that, it will be the last. Am I clear?"

  He nodded.

  "I heard your sister was treated for her illness this morning. I trust she's feeling better?"

  "Yes." He looked down. "Thank you."

  "You owe me for her life." She looked at Haley. "Roy, my team is here. I want you to come into the woods and talk to them. Go straight west. It's urgent."

  "How long have you been here?"

  "Since this morning."

  He found this news comforting and disturbing at the same time. The Secret Service had gone to great lengths to keep this location a secret.

  "I can't go walking in the woods alone," he said. "It's not safe."

  "It's safer out there than in here. If it makes you feel better, bring your lapdog along." Ethel nodded to Seferis. "Nobody else though. If you attempt to surround us, arrest us, or spy on us, we will take it as a hostile act. I'm sure your agents are good men. I'd hate to see them die needlessly."

  Ethel turned, went back to the balcony, and jumped off. It was a three-story drop, but apparently, she didn't care.

  Haley hurried over to the balcony. She was already gone. Four Secret Service agents were standing in the grass with bored expressions.

  "I guess we have a meeting now," Haley said softly.

  "Not until I send some men to check it out," Seferis said.

  Haley faced him. "Are you crazy? They'll get murdered."

  Seferis frowned.

  Haley pointed towards the forest outside the window. "These people cure incurable diseases. They walk through the world's tightest security like it isn't even there. They know all our secrets. They are creatures of myth and legend. Stop fucking with them!"

  "You want to just walk into the woods like a couple of boobs without even taking the most basic precautions?"

  "That's exactly what we'll do. If Miss Pickenpaugh came here in person to tell me a meeting is urgent, I must believe her."

  "They're criminals," Seferis said. "Anarchists."

  "They certainly play by their own rules. Whether those rules are right or wrong is open to debate. Let's go. I'm curious to hear what's so important."

  The two men went downstairs and left the house without telling anybody where they were going. The sun was setting outside. The air was getting chilly, and Haley thought about running back for a coat. He decided not to. He hoped this meeting wouldn't take long.

  Seferis told his agents to stay back and continue to protect the house. They gave him very curious looks. The President wasn't supposed to wander off with only one guard. Protecting the house seemed pointless when he wasn't there. Seferis just shrugged in response.

  He and Haley proceeded through grass and brush towards the trees.

  "I can't believe we're doing this," Seferis said, "especially after what happened in the United Center."

  "They saved my life."

  "They knocked out a room full of federal agents, including us."

  "Without killing anybody," Haley said. "You have to admit that was very impressive."

  Seferis grunted. "They tortured a man to death."

  "Not necessarily a bad thing in his case."

  They entered the forest. Dark shadows made the cool air feel even cooler. The sun provided barely enough light to see the uneven ground. Haley had to watch carefully to avoid tripping over a root.

  Four figures appeared in front of him. He recognized Ethel, Aaron, and Boreas even in the poor light. A gorgeous, young, black woman was with them. Haley had seen her in the United Center after the bombing. She had dressed like an FBI agent then.

  Nobody was disguising their intentions now. The group had enough weapons to fight a war. Their black and gray camouflage made them difficult to see in the twilight.

  "You came quickly," Ethel said. "I appreciate that."

  "What's so important?" Haley said.

  "Wait," Seferis said, "before we get into that. What happened to Pure America? All my prisoners disappeared last night."

  "The enemy took them," Aaron said. "I'm sure they're dead by now. The only one we got was Olaf, and we were lucky to get him."

  "What enemy?"

  "All in good time. We're going to play a shell game tonight, but instead of balls, we'll use human lives. I'm hoping to lure the enemy out of hiding. It will be dangerous though. You have to follow my instructions precisely."

  "Wait a minute," Haley said. "Since when do I follow your orders? I just came here to talk. You're lucky I did that much."

  Aaron walked over. With his great size, thick muscles, and heavy eyebrows, he was a menacing figure. "I'm doing everything in my power to save your life, but I require your cooperation. I was right about Pure America being just a decoy. The real threat is far more insidious."

  "You have to give me some information. Otherwise, how can I trust you?"

  "I will tell you this. Your true enemy has been watching you since this morning, just like us. Somebody gave them your location. There is a traitor in your midst." Aaron looked at Seferis. "Perhaps one of your Secret Service agents."

  "Hey!" Seferis said. "Every one of my men is completely loyal."

  "I don't think so. Until we find the traitor and neutralize the enemy, we're going to play by my rules."

  Haley noticed the young woman was carrying a sword in her right hand. The blade was jet black and smoking, but that effect was probably just a result of the poor light.

  "Roy," Ethel said, "this is one of my best men. His accomplishments are extraordinary. You can put your life in his hands with complete confidence, as I would."

  He frowned. She was asking him to take an enormous leap of faith.

  The smoking sword was distracting him. "What's going on?" He pointed. "Is your sword burning?"

  The young woman looked at her weapon. "Ma'am, may I show him?"

  "Go ahead," Ethel said in a tone of resignation. "We've bent enough rules already. Bending one more won't make a difference."

  The woman slashed a rocky outcropping. Astonishingly, the blade cut the stone like it was cotton candy. She held up her sword, and the darkness melted away, revealing ordinary steel.

  "It's not the sword that's burning," she explained. "It's me."

  Haley shook his head in dismay. These people were made of magic.

  "Enough show and tell," Aaron said impatiently. "Time is running short. I need you to gather up your entire staff and move them to the largest room in the house. I mean everybody. Pull all the guards. Templeton and his people, too. Anybody who isn't there will die."

  "I don't understand," Haley said.

  "Just fol
low orders. Take all the phones and radios away. We don't want the traitor tipping off the enemy that something is amiss. Enforced radio silence is essential to this operation. The only person allowed to carry a phone is you. It will be this one."

  Aaron gave Haley a gray phone. It felt unusually thick and heavy as if it were armor-plated. Ethel had a similar phone.

  "I'll call you when it's time to evacuate the house," Aaron said. "Get everybody out in an orderly manner, and do it quickly, but wait until I give the word. Follow this escape route. Do not deviate from it."

  He gave Haley a piece of paper. It looked like a map, but the darkness made it hard to tell.

  Aaron continued, "Travel on foot. Leave the cars behind. If I see any stragglers, I'll blow their heads off."

  "Why?"

  "Because it means they're not trustworthy. Seferis, use your agents as shepherds to keep the flock together. I'm counting on you to be an asset instead of a liability this time."

  "But...," Seferis said.

  "Quiet," Aaron growled. "This has to be done exactly right. The escape route will take you to a back road. You'll receive further instructions there. Look for other men dressed like us. Mr. President, keep everybody moving no matter what happens. The people who follow orders are the ones who will survive."

  "What if I don't like this plan?" Haley said. "What if it doesn't work?"

  "Then we'll kidnap you and kill anybody who tries to stop us. I was told your life is the only one I must protect."

  Haley looked at the deep, fresh cut in the rocky outcropping. "Who told you? Miss Pickenpaugh?"

  "No," Aaron said. "All of us are operating under the orders of a higher authority."

  "Even her?"

  "Her most of all."

  Haley had a hard time imagining anybody giving orders to Ethel. She seemed to do exactly as she pleased.

  "Go," Aaron said. "It's getting dark. We're almost out of time."

  "Why?"

  "Go!" Aaron gave Haley an abrupt shove.

  Haley stumbled away in the darkness.

  Seferis caught up to him. "Are you actually going to do this, sir?" Seferis whispered.

  "What choice do we have?" Haley tripped over a root and almost fell.

 

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