Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8) (38 page)

BOOK: Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8)
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Wesley looked around. "Yes."

"Fine."

Aaron took out his phone and called Bethany.

She answered instantly, "Sir?" She didn't actually use a phone. The communication went straight into her artificial brain.

"I'm in the computer room in the Washington headquarters. The people here want to talk to you and your sister, and they want to see your faces."

"Is that a good idea, sir?"

"No," he said, "but do it anyway."

All the computer screens in the room changed at once to the same feed. It was a shot of the science laboratory in Chicago from a high, sharp angle. Aaron guessed the twins were using a surveillance camera for the video conference.

Bethany and Leanna stood in the middle of the frame wearing white lab coats. Their metallic skulls gleamed under the bright lights. Subtle, gray swirls gave their skin an interesting texture. Black, crystalline eyes stared up at the camera without any hint of emotion.

"Will this do, sir?" Bethany said. Her voice consisted of pure tones, hums, and clicks.

Several people gasped.

"Are they robots?" Todd whispered.

"Even more beautiful than I imagined." Wesley sighed.

Aaron ignored them and said, "We have a document for you to look at. Todd, send it to Bethany."

Todd typed on his keyboard for a moment.

Bethany didn't hesitate. "The extraneous notation is forbidden mathematics. An enemy of God wrote this note. The bad spelling is to be expected. They can't follow rules."

"That's what I suspected," Aaron said. "Thank you. I don't need anything else."

All the computer screens flicked back to their previous state.

Neal gave Aaron a serious look. "I assume they were normal women at one time. Am I allowed to ask what happened to them?"

"No," Aaron said.

"That's what I thought." Neal nodded.

Aaron looked at the surveillance feeds coming from the Pentagon. General Joseph was still chatting with his two friends using the stress balls. Aaron desperately wished to know what they were saying. This investigation had just become a full-scale mission.

Chapter Nineteen

"2: THIS PLAN IS INSANE."

"1: YOU HAVE A BETTER ONE?"

There was a long pause. "2: NO."

"1: WE HAVE TO IDENTIFY THE REAL THREAT. THAT'S THE FIRST TASK IN ANY BATTLE. THIS WILL FORCE OUR OPPOSITION TO SHOW THEIR FACES."

"2: WE'LL GET CAPTURED OR KILLED."

"1: WE'RE SCREWED ANYWAY."

"3: I AGREE WITH FIRST CORNER. NO CHOICE. WE CAN'T RUN UNTIL WE KNOW WHO WE'RE RUNNING FROM. WE KNOW NOTHING NOW."

"4: LET'S GET STARTED."

"1: YOU CAN DO YOUR PART?"

"4: AFFIRMATIVE."

"1: I'M LEAVING NOW. SEE YOU SOON. I HOPE."

"4: DRIVE SLOW. I NEED TIME TO GATHER THE TROOPS."

General Joseph put down his stress ball and turned off the television.

He walked over to the liquor cabinet in the corner. He grabbed his best bottle of whiskey and unscrewed the cap. He took a long pull straight from the bottle. The golden liquid burned like fire as it went down his throat, and it tasted like burnt honey. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and put the bottle back. He hoped he would get a chance to drink the rest of it, but it was a faint hope. The Second Corner was right about this plan being insane.

With a quick, confident gait, he walked out of his office.

* * *

"What do you want to do, Aaron?" Neal asked. "My
legionnaires
are in position. They can abduct our enemies as they leave the Pentagon. A vigorous interrogation will get the truth out of them."

Aaron pursed his lips as he contemplated his options. "I'd rather see where they're going first. Ma'am, do you have an opinion?" He turned to Ethel.

"I'm inclined to agree with Aaron," she said. "You put homing beacons on their cars, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," Neal said. "We'll have no trouble following them."

"Then let's give our enemies a little more rope. We can grab them later."

"Yes, ma'am."

President Haley leaned forward slightly. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Go on," Ethel said.

"I want to talk to George Seferis. He was on that bus all night with orders to look for a traitor. Maybe he has useful information."

Aaron shook his head. "It's not safe for you to go out, and we're certainly not bringing him down here. Stay hidden for a while longer."

"I'll wear a disguise," Haley said. "Only George will know it's me. You can send somebody along as a bodyguard."

"Tawni is the only
legionnaire
available." Aaron looked at Tawni.

She brightened. "I'd love to be the President's bodyguard, sir!"

"I'm sure, but I don't feel comfortable putting so much responsibility on such inexperienced shoulders. And this isn't your territory. You don't know the city."

She pouted.

Wesley stepped into the circle of adults. "The President can also use Atalanta if he wants," he said cheerfully. "She and Tawni like each other. They'll make a good team. I'll just stay down here until Atalanta comes back."

Aaron looked down at his perfect, pink face. It was hard to argue that Atalanta would be inadequate protection. She was ranked among the most elite fighters in the world and had once been a legate's bodyguard.

"I'll help Roy disguise himself." Ethel smiled lovingly at Haley.

Aaron could see the tide was turning against him. "Yes, ma'am. I have to insist they also ride in the strongest armored car available."

"I have one they can use," Neal said. "It's practically a tank."

Ethel nodded. "Sounds perfect. Aaron, Boreas, and I are also going out. I want to participate in the capture and interrogation. Neal will manage the operation from here."

Both commanders nodded.

* * *

General Joseph's footsteps echoed on the tiled hallways of the Pentagon as he neared the exit. He had one task to perform before he left the building for perhaps the last time.

He needed a handheld radio with built-in encryption for secure communication. The perfect choice would be an AN/PRC-148, the tactical radio used throughout the Armed Forces. The Pentagon was not a good place to find military hardware though. It was more like an office building than a base.

He decided his best chance was to get a radio from the Pentagon Police. The building had its own dedicated police force which operated under the umbrella of the Pentagon Force Protection Agency. That agency was as much a civilian unit as a military one, but they did use secure radios.

The police occupied small offices scattered throughout the Pentagon, but there was always one near every exit. Joseph spotted a doorway with the police logo painted on the glass window. He went inside.

A big, African-American man in a gray-green uniform stood behind a counter. His nametag read, "Sgt. Collins." He snapped to attention when Joseph entered the room. The three stars on his epaulets always had that effect.

"I need to borrow a secure radio," Joseph said.

"Sir?" Collins said.

"You heard me."

"You want to take one of our radios? Why?"

Joseph glared at him. "That's none of your business. I'll get it myself."

He walked around the counter and went through a doorway to another room in the back of the small office. A second police officer was working at a desk. He looked up with a surprised expression. Joseph nodded politely to him.

Collins followed Joseph and said, "Sir, I don't think you should be back here."

A shelf held spare police equipment including radios. Joseph went over and picked through the badly organized collection of gear.

"Sir!" Collins said in a firm tone.

Joseph continued to search for the right kind of radio. "If it makes you feel better, I'll fill out a form."

"I don't think we have a form for giving away radios."

Joseph found the AN/PRC-148 that he was hoping for. The black case had a few dings, but when he turned it on, it seemed to function. He headed towards the door.

Collins stepped in front of him. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't let you take our equipment without authorization."

"What are you going to do? Arrest me? Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you lay a hand on a Lieutenant General of the United States Air Force?"

The two men stared at each other for a moment.

Collins stepped aside. "Have a nice day, sir."

"Thank you." Joseph nodded.

He hurried outside. The sky was clear and the sun was bright. A breeze was unusually chilly for September.

He headed towards his car which was parked in the huge, open lot to the south. As he walked, he surreptitiously checked for signs of a tail. He saw many other people coming and going. Around thirty thousand people worked in the Pentagon, so there was always plenty of activity. It was impossible to know if he was being followed.

After a long, vigorous walk, he found his car. It was a high-end, Chrysler sedan with a custom Air Force blue paint job. He looked around one last time but saw nothing obviously suspicious.

He got in and drove off.

He quickly found his way to Interstate 395. He headed south towards Virginia, but he would take the scenic route to his destination. The Fourth Corner needed time to prepare the trap.

* * *

President Haley looked up at the brick and glass exterior of the Secret Service Headquarters. There was barely any signage to indicate who occupied the nine-story building. A passerby could've easily missed that it contained a universally respected and feared government agency.

"Make the call," Tawni said.

Haley was sitting in the back of a mid-sized sedan which looked like many others on the streets of Washington. It had inch-thick windows, but that wasn't such a rarity in this town. The tungsten-carbide armor plate concealed in the doors and roof was more unusual.

Tawni was at the wheel, and Atalanta was riding shotgun. They wore civilian suits, but he knew they were well armed underneath. With her Japanese features and unusual height, Atalanta was a striking woman. Her eyes never stopped checking for threats.

Haley took his new, gray phone out of his pocket. The weight and thickness alone marked it as different from a regular phone. He had barely had time to skim the manual describing an extraordinary list of features. It was like a gadget from a science fiction movie.

He also had a scrap of paper with a phone number on it. He unlocked his phone and dialed the number.

"Hello?" George Seferis answered.

"It's me," Haley said. "I'm parked in front of your building. Come alone."

"Yes, sir. I'll be there in five minutes." Seferis hung up.

Haley settled back in his seat. The only sounds were the whisper of the air-conditioning and the purr of the engine.

"What's going to happen to General Joseph and the others?" he asked.

"They'll be captured, interrogated, and killed," Tawni said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to torture them to death?"

"Yes. They're working with an enemy of God. They'll get no mercy." Her tone indicated nothing else needed to be said.

Haley wanted to argue on behalf of due process and the rights of the accused. He believed that "innocent until proven guilty" was more than just a slogan. He had sworn an oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States which included a prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment.

He didn't argue though. The Gray Spear Society clearly didn't give a shit about such things.

"It sounds like you've done this before."

"A few times," Tawni said. "Atalanta is the veteran."

"I've been a member of the Society for twenty years," Atalanta said. "Thirty-six successful missions."

A knock on the window startled Haley. Seferis was standing outside the sedan. Haley unlocked the door and let him in. As soon as Seferis was safely seated, Tawni pulled away and merged with traffic.

"Are you wearing a disguise?" Seferis said.

Haley stroked his false beard and mustache. "Do you like it?"

Seferis grimaced. "It looks weird, sir." He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face sagged.

"You're tired."

"I spent all night on that damn bus. You were right about the traitor though. It's Julie Zimmer, the Secret Service agent with red hair."

"I think I know her." Haley nodded. "She was assigned to me a couple of months ago."

"I'll launch a formal investigation today."

"Don't bother," Tawni said. "She'll be taken care of."

Seferis looked at her with a distasteful expression. "I remember you from last night. The woman who slices rocks with a sword." He turned to Atalanta. "Are you another one of Miss Pickenpaugh's freaky thugs?"

She shook her head slightly. "I don't work for her, but I am a freaky thug."

He sighed with exasperation and refocused on Haley. "What's going on, sir? Do you know who tried to kill us?"

"Yes," Haley said, "and they'll be taken care of, too. This isn't your problem anymore."

"What happened to you last night?"

"I wish I could tell you about it. All you need to know is that I'm in good hands." Haley nodded towards the women in front.

Seferis snarled. "Drive me back to my office, please. My work is actually appreciated there."

"George..."

"Don't bother, sir. I understand how it is. The Secret Service has to play second fiddle to a clandestine criminal organization that controls the President of the United States. Nothing unusual about that."

Haley's shoulders sagged.

Tawni turned left at the next intersection. Traffic was slow and getting slower. It took five minutes before she could make another left in the direction of Secret Service Headquarters. Haley noticed people carrying signs a few blocks ahead.

"Fuck!" Seferis rolled his eyes. "The protest march. I forgot all about it. Take the next right. We'll have to go the long way around."

* * *

General Joseph drove into the parking lot of the Potomac and Rappahannock Transportation Commission Transit Center. It was a very long name for a bus station, but the station almost justified it. It was two stories tall with a blue, sloping roof. There were offices on the second floor. The parking lot was large, but he was pleased to see relatively few cars in it. He didn't want a lot of innocents getting in the way.

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