by Siegel, Alex
Aaron smirked. "Sure." He looked up at the ceiling and yelled. "Jack! Tell Smythe and Norbert to come to the exercise area. They'll want to see this."
Jack's voice emanated from an overhead speaker. "Yes, sir."
Aaron and Wesley walked out to where blue mats were laid on the tile floor. Both of them were wearing loose, comfortable clothes so there was no need to change.
Wesley dropped into a defensive stance that looked flawless even to Aaron's expert eye. Maybe the boy had some skills.
Smythe and Norbert arrived and watched with interest.
Aaron came in with a soft kick-punch combination so he could see how Wesley moved. It turned out he moved very well. The boy nimbly dodged the attack, slid underneath, and kicked Aaron in the abdomen. Aaron allowed the contact so he could gauge Wesley's strength. The blow struck with enough force to make Aaron grunt.
"Nicely done," he said.
Wesley smiled.
Aaron became a little more aggressive. He used a double feint to make Wesley step backwards awkwardly. Aaron hooked the boy's legs, but instead of falling, Wesley performed a graceful back handspring. He landed squarely on his feet. Aaron shoved Wesley's chest before he could regain his balance. Wesley rolled and was back on his feet again an instant later.
Smythe and Norbert clapped.
Aaron performed a series of punches that forced Wesley to dodge and weave at a desperate pace. Wesley tried to counter-attack, but Aaron stayed just out of reach every time. There was a lot of quick movement but no contact. Wesley didn't get tired or frustrated though. He maintained excellent focus for a full five minutes until Aaron finally stopped chasing him around.
"You were trained by masters," Aaron said. "I'll grant you that much. But I'm still not convinced you can survive a street fight. If you go out on a mission, you'll go with at least two teammates, and only after I give you explicit permission."
Wesley opened his mouth as if to complain, then said, "Yes, sir."
Bethany and Leanna came out of the computer room and walked over.
"We located Tawni," Bethany said.
Aaron raised his eyebrows. "That was fast!"
"The NSA maintains a secret archive of all phone and text messages. We performed an adaptive search for relevant keywords until we determined which phone Tawni is carrying. It's in the name of one of her former boyfriends. We can triangulate her signal at any time, sir."
"Do it now." Aaron faced Smythe and Norbert. "The three of us will leave immediately. Tawni needs to be tested."
Smythe grimaced. "Sir, what kind of test did you have in mind?"
"I want to know if she's tough enough to work for me."
"In other words, she's about to have an absolutely miserable experience."
Aaron nodded.
* * *
Tawni was sitting in a tiny dining room by herself. She heard movement in the adjacent kitchen as a man prepared dinner for both of them. His name was Dante, Darnell, or maybe Darrell. She couldn't quite remember which name was right, but it didn't matter. He was letting her stay in his apartment for a couple of nights, which was as long as she allowed herself to live in one place. A lot of bad people were looking for her.
Dante came out of the kitchen carrying a big bowl of spaghetti. Bright red sauce covered the top. Tawni liked it when a man cooked for her. She might even have sex with him depending on how the rest of the evening went. A bowl of spaghetti alone wasn't enough to earn that honor.
His eyes widened. He placed the bowl on the table and raised his hands above his head.
She turned around and discovered two big, muscular men in the room. They had entered silently. They carried assault rifles of a type she didn't recognize, but they looked very expensive. They weren't weapons that could be bought on the street. The men wore black and gray camouflage clothing that seemed designed for night operations. Vests with the same color scheme protected their broad torsos. Smaller weapons hung from their belts or were strapped to their ankles. They appeared ready to go to war. Tawni had to admit the men looked hot.
One had blue eyes and short, rust colored hair. The other had brown, curly hair, and his face was a little puffy. Their expressions were as serious as a funeral.
"Lay down on the floor," the first man said in a deep voice. "Hands behind your back. Both of you."
Tawni had no choice but to comply. Her hands and feet were quickly bound with nylon ropes. A bag was put over her hands to make it harder for her to free herself. Finally, the men slipped a black cloth sack over her head. She could breathe through the coarse fabric but she couldn't see a damn thing.
"Who are you?" she said. "What are you going to do to me?"
She was ignored.
One man picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. His strong arms seemed to have little trouble lifting her even though she wasn't small.
A cool breeze and the sound of traffic indicated she was being taken outside. The man placed her on a surface covered with a thin carpet. She heard an engine running. A door was slammed closed and all light was cut off. She guessed she was in the trunk of a car.
Her heart was pounding like a drum. She desperately tried to free herself, but the men had done an expert job of tying her. All she accomplished was working up a sweat.
She listened to the road noises and tried to judge where the men were taking her. The road was bumpy for a while which suggested city streets. When the ride smoothed out, she guessed she was on the highway. She was travelling a long distance.
She tried not to contemplate her eventual destination. The Lake Street Vigilantes had made a lot of enemies in the past few months. It was possible the mob had put out a contract on her. She made another failed attempt at freeing her hands. She really didn't want to die today.
The long trip finally ended. Tawni was lifted out of the trunk and carried some distance. The air was cool and moist, and she heard waves lapping against a shore. She was placed on her feet.
The cloth sack was yanked off her head, and she looked around. She was standing at the end of a short pier on the shore of Lake Michigan. A small, white house stood a short distance from the water, but otherwise, she saw only trees along the shore. The night was very dark and quiet. She couldn't even see the lights of Chicago.
A third man came out of the house and walked down the dock. Like the other two, he wore black and gray clothing and a vest. Weapons decorated his body like Christmas tree ornaments. He had straight brown hair and a very handsome face. Bushy eyebrows gave him a wild appearance.
Tawni suddenly recognized the men. They had worn masks before but their bodies were distinctive. "Hey! You're the assholes from the alley last night!"
The man with bushy eyebrows nodded. "You're perceptive."
The man with red hair ran a thick rope around her chest and under her arms. He tied it tight but left about ten feet of rope hanging loose.
"We want the names and addresses of your friends," he said.
"My friends?" she said.
"The punks who call themselves the Lake Street Vigilantes. Give them up. Save yourself."
"Fuck you."
She was pushed off the dock. She hit the water hard and sank quickly. With her hands and feet bound, she could only thrash helplessly. Cold water was forced up her nose. She coughed reflexively and sucked more water into her lungs. Darkness closed on her like the lid of a coffin.
Her lungs were burning when she felt the rope around her chest tighten. She was hauled out of the lake and dropped on the wooden planks like a fish. For a minute, all she could do was lie there and spit up water. She was already exhausted from her ordeal.
The man with bushy eyebrows leaned over her. "We want names."
"Fuck you again." She spat at him.
He pushed her back into the lake with his foot.
This time she didn't thrash. There was no point. If she was going to drown, she would do so with dignity at least.
After about a minute that seemed to
last an hour, she was hauled out again. She gasped for air.
"We can do this all night," the man said calmly.
She spoke through her chattering teeth. "I needed a bath anyway, asshole."
She went back into the chilly water.
After six more plunges into the lake, the men stepped away to confer with each other. She was left shivering and helpless on the dock. Hypothermia made her feel a little numb and sleepy. Her shoulders ached from being in an awkward position for so long. She was proud of herself though. She hadn't betrayed her friends and never would.
The man with bushy eyebrows seemed to be the leader of the crew. He went back to the house and emerged a moment later carrying a sniper rifle. She recognized it as a M107 .50 caliber. It was a monster of a weapon capable of penetrating light armor at extreme range. He knelt on the dock and aimed the rifle in her direction.
"Names," he said without emotion.
"Go to hell!" she screamed.
He fired. The barrel belched flame and boomed like a cannon. The bullet passed so close to her head, the shockwave caressed her face. It took all her self-control to keep from pissing in her pants.
"Mother fucker!" she yelled.
"You like my gun?" he said. "It's one of my favorites."
He pulled the trigger again, and this time the bullet zipped by her ear. She instinctively tried to curl her body into a fetal position. She had no way to protect herself, and it was the worst feeling in the world.
"I don't have to miss," the man said. "Where do you want me to shoot you? The foot? The knee?"
"You're a fucking piece of shit!"
He aimed straight at her face. "Last chance. All I need are some names."
"I got three names for you. Go! Fuck! Yourself!"
He settled into a solid firing position. She could see straight down the barrel, and she knew the next bullet would take her head off. She had never been this close to death before. It was like an icy presence standing on the dock and breathing on her neck. This was the end.
"Say goodbye to your old life," the man said quietly.
He pulled the trigger.
The rifle clicked.
He stood up. All three men walked over and looked down at her. Her heart was beating so hard she thought she might have a heart attack.
"What's your assessment, gentleman?" the man with bushy eyebrows said in a clinical tone.
"Not bad," the man with red hair said. "The profanity was amateurish, but that's just a quibble. I never got the sense she was about to crack."
"I like her spirit," the man with curly hair said. "A tenacious fighter."
"What the hell are you assholes talking about?" Tawni said.
The leader knelt down and got close to her. "This was a test."
"A test?"
"I actually don't care about your gang or your friends. This was all about you. I needed to know what kind of woman you are, and you impressed me. My name is Aaron."
"You're a sick bastard, Aaron." She yanked on her ropes.
He smiled a little. "You can calm down. You're safe now. I was never going to kill you."
"Untie me!"
"Not yet."
"Why are you doing this?" she said. "What do you want from me?"
"That's the big question, isn't it?" He stood up and crossed his arms.
She snarled and squirmed. She heard a beeping noise.
He took a gray phone out of his pocket and put it against his ear. "Hello? Thanks." He put the phone away. "We're out of time, so I'll just give you the answer. It's because you're smart, strong, sexy, brave, and tough. You're a diamond in the rough, and I'm going to polish you until you shine."
He walked away and his two companions followed.
"Hey!" she yelled. "You can't just leave me like this!" She flopped around on the dock.
Aaron glanced over his shoulder. "Don't worry. Somebody will be along to free you quite soon."
The three strange men disappeared into the forest.
A minute later, a police car with flashing lights parked on the shore. Two cops got out and walked over to her. Their expressions showed surprise and amusement.
"Untie me," she said, "please."
One cop took a small piece of paper from his pocket and read, "Tawni Williams, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney..."
She screamed in frustration.
Chapter Three
Aaron entered his headquarters. The first door he passed was the science laboratory, and he peeked inside. Kamal had made a lot of progress on unpacking his equipment, but he was still only halfway through the huge project. He was fiddling with a microscope that had two eyepieces and an attached video monitor.
Aaron checked his watch. "It's eight o'clock at night. You've been at this for thirteen hours. Get some sleep."
Kamal turned to his commander. He had bloodshot eyes and a droopy expression. "But sir, what if we have a mission? What if I need to do some analysis?"
"Your mind is your most important piece of equipment. You're useless to me if you're too exhausted to think."
"Yes, sir." Kamal nodded. "I'll just finish this bit, and then I'll go home."
Aaron walked down a hallway and passed three more doors. A grinding sound drew him into the machine shop. Shelves covered the left wall, and they were full of every kind of hand tool imaginable. Impressive pieces of machinery filled the rest of the shop. Most of the equipment was painted dull green or gray, and thick power cords connected to outlets on the floor.
Nancy was bent over some equipment that had wheels and belts moving at dangerously high speed. It was making a terrible screeching noise. Bright yellow ear muffs protected her ears. A white bandage was wrapped around her hand, and it had fresh blood spots on it.
Aaron walked over and tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped in surprise and looked at him.
"What happened to you?" he yelled.
She turned off the machine. Her blue jean coveralls had even more stains than usual, and there was a splotch of black grease in her brown, frizzy hair.
"A minor argument with a pipe cutter," she said. "Dr. Smythe fixed me up. I'm fine now."
"Maybe you should go home before you hurt yourself again. You look worn out."
"I'm on security duty, sir. I have the ten o'clock shift."
Aaron frowned. "That was poor planning on my part. I'll take your shift. I have to go out one more time tonight, but I'll be back by ten."
"Your day was even longer than mine."
"But I don't plan on operating machinery that could cut off my hand. As soon as I get back, I want you to go home. In the meantime, be careful."
"Yes, sir," Nancy said.
Aaron headed to the computer room which was just to the left of his private suite. He walked through the open doorway.
Bethany and Leanna had completed the assembly of their ergonomic workstations. The chairs were fully reclined and made of soft stretchy webbing. Cushions held the occupant in the proper position without any strain. Keyboards and mice were on trays that could be locked in any orientation. Curved metal bars supported banks of computer monitors, and each workstation had a dozen screens.
The twins were nestled in their chairs. Their big eyes looked up at the many displays while their hands danced across exotic keyboards. Rapid keystrokes sounded like a sewing machine.
Wesley stood behind Bethany, his attention fixed on one of her monitors. Aaron walked over. The display showed hundreds of strange symbols arranged in geometric patterns.
"Do you actually know what that alien gibberish means?" Aaron said.
Wesley's sparkling blue eyes looked at him. "Not really. God wrote that gibberish. It's divine mathematics, and I can see the profound truth in it, even if I don't understand it."
Aaron took another hard look at the symbols. Ever since the twins had joined the Society, they had been working on a huge project with Go
d. The eventual goal was to make some kind of improvement to the entire universe. The idea scared the hell out of Aaron. The twins seemed to know what they were doing, and God approved, so Aaron just tried not to think about it.
"I wish I understood any of it. I was never good at math. Too abstract."
"The twins are teaching me math," Wesley said. "I had my first lesson while you were out."
"You like math?" Aaron said.
"It's the purest form of truth. Charles taught me arithmetic but stopped at basic algebra. He couldn't go any further. That's all he knows."
"I imagine getting a good education on the road is tough."
Wesley nodded. "Why didn't you take me with you when you tested Tawni?"
"I didn't need you. Smythe and Norbert were more than sufficient for the job."
"But I wanted to go. It sounded fun."
"We're not in the entertainment business," Aaron said sternly. "You can have fun on your own time. Besides, none of us enjoyed tormenting Tawni."
Wesley pouted. "You can't just leave me here all the time."
Aaron sighed with annoyance. "We'll do something together tomorrow. I promise." Now I sound like Wesley's father, he thought.
"Something interesting."
Aaron glared at Wesley.
"Sir," Wesley added.
"I'll choose an appropriate activity which will make good use of your talents," Aaron said. "That's my job as your commander. Interesting isn't a criteria."
Wesley frowned.
The twins had continued to type during the entire conversation. When they were working, almost nothing could distract them. Aaron tapped lightly but persistently on Bethany's shoulder until she finally responded.
She looked at him. "Sir?"
"Norbert is down in the lobby," Aaron said. "He's waiting to take you home."
"Yes, sir." She climbed out of her chair. "There is another printout for you. We did a little more research on the protests."
He walked over to the printer and grabbed a short stack of papers.
Meanwhile, Leanna also stood up. She stretched her arms and showed off a body that had grown increasingly attractive as the months had passed. Norbert made sure the twins got plenty of exercise despite their persistent whining about it. He took very good care of them in every way.
