Apocalypse Cult (Gray Spear Society) (22 page)

"And finally," he said, "there is no Federal Office of Domestic Terrorism. I asked friends who would know about it, and they've never heard of it. You lied to me, again."

An elderly black woman in a shabby coat shuffled towards them, barely bending her knees with each small step. Aaron couldn't recognize Ethel under all the makeup, but it was her. He signaled her with a slight nod.

A battered green van with tinted windows parked about twenty yards away, and the driver kept the engine idling. It was hard to see him through the windshield, but Victor was behind the wheel.

"So," Hoskins said, "we have a mystery. Why would a disgraced cop and a spook work together? What is their interest in the Church of One Soul?"

"You expect me to answer?" Marina said.

"My theory is you want the drugs and money that the cult has stashed somewhere. You're looking for a big score, and you're hoping Brimstone will lead you to it. The terrorist threat is a smoke screen."

"Not true."

"You were at the campgrounds because you thought the drugs might be there."

She shook her head. "Listen, I'm going to give you some very good advice: go away."

"No."

"You seem like a fine man, and I admire your dedication. That's why I don't want to see you get killed."

He drew his gun and aimed it at her chest. "Is that a threat?"

"I'm just trying to help."

Hoskins turned to Aaron and said, "Do you have anything to say?"

"Just that my partner isn't kidding," Aaron said. "You're in some really deep shit now."

"You're the ones who should worry. Both of you are under arrest. You may have noticed the police all around us. You can't escape, so come quietly. Actually, don't come quietly, so I can shoot you in self-defense."

Ethel walked up behind him. She struck so fast and so hard that Aaron's eyes couldn't follow the action. Hoskins' gun flew harmlessly into the street. He fell to the ground, grunting and clutching his ribs.

The green van pulled up in the same instant. Marina threw open the side door and climbed inside, quickly followed by Aaron and Ethel. The van sped off while Ethel was still closing the door.

Victor wore a cowboy hat and dark sunglasses. With the heavily tinted windows, it would be impossible to get a good look at his face from outside the van.

"Hold onto something!" he yelled. "This is going to get rough!"

There were no seats in the back of the van, but cross braces had been welded to the bare metal walls as internal reinforcement. Aaron grabbed one of the steel bars with both hands.

Police sirens blared from multiple directions.

"Do you know where you're going?" Aaron yelled.

Victor nodded. "Of course!"

He drove fast but with finesse, rarely squealing the tires. The engine roar included the high-pitched whine of a turbocharger. Aaron wished he could look out the window, but he was too busy holding tight so his skull wouldn't smash against the wall.

"Here comes a bump!" Victor said.

The van crashed down on its suspension and then leapt into the air. It flew for only a second or two, but the duration seemed like forever to Aaron. The van slammed into the ground again, jarring every part of his body.

The sirens were receding, a good sign. But then he heard a metallic crunch as some other car on the road had an accident. It reminded him of why he hated car chases. Innocent people tended to get killed. He had pursued many criminals in his life, but this was his first experience as a fleeing suspect, and he hoped it would be his last.

He looked at Marina and Ethel, who had stoic expressions on their faces. If they were anxious, they refused to show it.

Aaron forced himself to calm down. Victor seemed to know what he was doing.

"Where did this van come from, ma'am?" Aaron asked Ethel. "It handles like a race car."

"Nancy spent half the night upgrading it," she said. "New wheels, new suspension, new engine, remote control."

The van began to lurch and rattle violently. It seemed Victor was driving on a dirt road.

"Did you say remote control?" Aaron said.

Ethel nodded.

"Get ready to bail out!" Victor said.

Everybody moved towards the door. He slammed on the brakes, and the van skidded to a stop. Without hesitation Ethel threw open the door and leapt out. The sound of splashing water surprised Aaron. He looked outside and found that the van was adjacent to a canal full of dirty, green water.

"Get out!" Victor shoved Aaron out the door.

Aaron fell awkwardly into the canal, forcing cold water up his nose. He came to the surface gasping for air. All four of them were in the canal now, including Marina. The van's engine roared and it sped off in a cloud of dust.

"Who's driving the van?" Aaron said.

"Edward," Ethel said, "from back in headquarters. Get down!"

Sirens and flashing lights were approaching fast. Aaron went under for as long as he could endure it. He gently broke the surface and looked around. The police seemed to be gone.

"That was exciting," he said, "but can we please get out of this cesspool now?"

"Stop whining," Victor said. "We got away clean, didn't we?"

"If this is what you call clean." Aaron splashed the filthy water. "What is Edward doing with the van?"

"Driving it until it runs out of gas. A shame. It was a nice set of wheels."

There was a rusty iron ladder attached to the wall of the canal some distance away. Everybody swam over and climbed onto dry land. The hot sun immediately began to bake Aaron's wet skin, making it sticky instead.

"Keep moving," Ethel ordered.

They were walking on a dirt road adjacent to a factory. Cement trucks came and went through the factory gates, and giant machinery made a constant clattering noise.

"Let's hear your report," Ethel said.

Marina spoke in a formal tone. "We left the tracking device with Agent Hoskins, ma'am. He has no choice but to use it, so that part of the mission was a success. He'll follow Brimstone, and we'll follow him. There is some bad news. He knows our true identities, Aaron's and mine."

"How?"

"Some cop recognized Aaron from his photo, and the CIA gave me up."

"Bad news, indeed." Ethel frowned. "When we have time, we'll tie up the loose ends."

"What does that mean, ma'am?" Aaron asked. "Hoskins doesn't deserve to die."

"The secrecy of the Society must be protected."

"With murder?"

"We'll see how it goes. In my experience those who know too much about us always meet their fate even without our help. Hoskins has put himself into that category, unfortunately."

"In other words," he said, "you're hoping he gets killed, so you don't have to bother."

"That's not what I meant at all, and I don't appreciate your tone. Hoskins' situation is tragic. When a normal person crosses into our world, he dies. It's inevitable. The Lord allows no spectators in this war."

Aaron kicked a rock. Marina held his hand, which wasn't the nicest experience because their palms were damp and sticky.

They reached the main road. He didn't recognize this part of the city, but it seemed to be a mix of industrial blocks and small, single-family homes.

A black Cadillac was parked on the side of the road, and Nancy stood beside it. Aaron had met her at headquarters just a couple of times and only briefly because she always seemed to be busy. As usual, there were smears of grease on her blue jean coveralls. Her brown frizzy hair was cut very short in a style that was more practical than attractive. Her thick lips curved up to form a big grin.

"Need a ride?" she called out.

* * *

Aaron yawned. He was sitting in the cargo section of a delivery truck with Marina and Edward. Marina was asleep on a foam pad, and Aaron wondered how she could manage to stay that way. The truck kept bumping and swaying, and the road noise was a constant annoyance. Her hair was actually vibrating. The sun had set hours ago so at least the air was pleasantly cool. Earlier in the day, the back of the truck had been so miserably hot dried sweat had formed patches on his skin.

Edward was crouched over a pile of surveillance equipment, his eyes focused on a laptop computer display. A transmitter was hidden in the briefcase that Marina had left with Agent Hoskins. The Spears team could follow both Hoskins and Brimstone on this long, slow chase because Brimstone was carrying his book with its own transmitter. Edward had both locations on his display, updated in real-time over a scrolling road map.

"Where are we now?" Aaron asked.

"Well north of Chicago," Edward said. "Near a tiny town called Winthrop Harbor."

Aaron wished he could look out a window, but his only view was of corrugated steel walls.

He looked at Marina instead, a far more pleasant sight. She wore a skin-tight, black and gray outfit suitable for covert operations at night. Her body had many very attractive features, but if he had to pick one in particular, it would be her legs. Sleek and muscular without being chunky, she had the legs of a professional dancer, or more accurately, a professional martial artist. She trained hard every day. Ethel had made it clear that Aaron would follow the same strict regimen as soon as this mission was done.

"I hear you and Marina have a thing going," Edward said in a low voice. He glanced at Marina.

"It's more than a 'thing,'" Aaron said.

"Good luck with that, sir."

"Why?"

Edward grimaced. "Of all the people on our team, she's the scariest."

"What about Victor?" Aaron said. "He was an enforcer for the mob."

"But at least he's predictable. When he snaps your neck like a dry twig, you'll know why, and it will be a quick death. Ethel is the same. Marina is like a performing bear in a circus. She's a good friend until the one day she decides to rip your face off with her claws."

"Why is she that way?"

"I wish I could tell you, sir." Edward shrugged. "All I know is you better not press her buttons. She has a habit of exploding. I hope she'll be different with you."

Aaron leaned back, stretched, and accidently bumped into a cardboard box. The delivery truck was packed with supplies and gear, enough for an extended mission. They didn't know how long they would be away from headquarters, so they had prepared for every contingency.

"What's your story?" Aaron said. "Everybody in this crowd seems to have one."

"Me?" Edward raised his eyebrows. "I guess you could say I was a computer genius as a kid. I spent all day in my mother's basement taking things apart and putting them back together. My best friends were circuit boards and technical manuals."

"No harm in being a geek."

"Except that my family didn't have any money, certainly not enough to buy the top-end computers and instruments I wanted, so I stole them."

"Your mother didn't notice?" Aaron said.

"She was just happy I wasn't in a gang or taking drugs, sir. She didn't care what I did in the basement. I was a very good thief, but nobody is perfect. Eventually, I got caught and put in juvenile hall."

"That's rough."

"It turned out getting caught was the best thing for my criminal career," Edward said. "Word got around that I was a hot, young talent. After I got out, the professional thieves started inviting me to help with serious heists. Success led to success, and I built up a solid reputation on the street. I became an expert in hacking security systems. The scores got bigger, and eventually, a gang asked for my help with tackling a riverboat casino."

Aaron opened his eyes wide. "Ambitious."

"Extremely, and we pulled it off, too. Five of us got away with two million dollars in cash. Then the killing started."

"Killing?"

"Simple arithmetic," Edward said. "Two million divided by five is 400 grand. Subtract one thief, and you get 500. That's a nice bonus. Subtract two thieves, and you get 666. You see how that goes?"

"Yeah. It goes until there is only one thief left."

"Yes, sir, and I wasn't the one. I woke up in a hospital with two bullets in my chest and several quarts of blood missing. The cops had enough evidence to put me away for life, assuming I survived to stand trial. My injuries were bad. At times like that, an intelligent man starts to think about what's important. About the questionable choices he made. He has regrets."

"I can imagine." Aaron nodded.

"A black nurse named Ethel came to me, and we had a conversation that lasted all night. When the sun came up, I was a new man with a new plan."

"You never went to jail?"

"The Spears paid my bail, which was set at a million dollars, and that was the last time I appeared in court. They bought my life with cash."

"Sounds like a movie script," Aaron said.

Edward chuckled. "It wasn't that glamorous, sir. Nobody looked like George Clooney. Really, it was a lot of seedy motels, bad body odor, and cheap whores. I don't miss that life at all. Uh-oh." He stared at his computer display for a moment. Then he flipped his phone open and said, "Hoskins stopped moving, sir. We should pull over and talk about it."

"Roger," Victor answered through the phone. The van immediately slowed.

Aaron tapped Marina on the arm. "Time to wake up."

Her eyes opened immediately. "I was already awake," she said. "You blabbermouths won't let a girl have her beauty sleep."

"How much did you hear?" Edward said nervously.

"Starting from the part where you called me a performing circus bear."

"Oh." Edward swallowed.

"Don't worry. I've been called worse. Just don't do it again." She curled her fingers, exposing her black fingernails. "Unless you want to see how this bear uses her claws."

"No, ma'am!"

Chapter Sixteen

Aaron lay in grass that had recently been mowed. There was little cover, barely enough to conceal two people, so Marina's body was pressed against his. They were hiding in the side yard of a small house, and just a single row of bushes separated them from a busy street.

Aaron looked through a pair of binoculars at a large hotel with an attached conference center. The walls were made of pale red brick. Three identical brown sedans were parked in a row. Aaron knew that Agent Hoskins and his team had driven those cars to this location.