The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6)

by Siegel, Alex

Odelia gave him a wry smile. "You just like looking at my butt."

  She started climbing the ladder. He took a moment to admire her very fine ass before following her up.

  They stepped onto the catwalk and looked around. From up here, they could see most of the structures inside the enormous factory. It looked like a shantytown built by a madman with poor carpentry skills. The layout was entirely random, and nothing was level or square. Walls arbitrarily divided up the space to create a clumsy maze. Plywood was the primary construction material, but there was plenty of sheet metal. Some rooms had no ceiling, allowing him to look inside from above.

  Odelia pointed down. "Carlos!"

  Smythe looked at the base of the ladder and saw Carlos starting to climb. About three quarters of his skin had grown back but random chunks were still missing. His hollow interior was visible. He looked like a piece of modern sculpture, except he was moving fast and full of homicidal rage.

  Smythe knew escape was impossible. Carlos would simply outrun them on the long, straight catwalk. Guns and knives were useless against him.

  Smythe still had grenades though. He grabbed one from his belt, pulled the pin, and dropped it down the ladder. The grenade fell through an opening in Carlos' shoulder into his dark interior. Carlos continued to climb.

  Smythe huddled down and covered his face with his arms. The explosion knocked him off his feet. Shrapnel struck his body with painful force, but the body armor kept it from penetrating.

  The catwalk shifted beneath him, and he desperately tried to grab a railing, but he was too slow. He slipped off. His stomach turned as he fell helplessly through the air, unsure of which way was up. He landed hard on his hip and heard a crunch. He could tell at once that he had suffered multiple fractures from the long fall.

  "Smythe!" Odelia yelled.

  She rushed down the ladder to join him.

  Smythe propped himself up on one elbow. Pieces of Carlos were scattered across the floor, and they were flopping like fish. A hand was crawling towards an elbow. He would pull himself back together before long.

  Odelia's body was already glowing brightly when she reached Smythe. She put her hands on his face and comforting warmth spread through him. He felt better immediately.

  "I have broken bones," he said. "Right hip."

  "Can you fix yourself?"

  "I don't know. I've never tried. Help me straighten out."

  She pulled his legs, causing sharp pain, but he didn't make a sound. His bones needed to be in the right position before he healed them. She pulled down his pants so he could reach the affected areas without going through body armor. His hip was already red and swollen.

  "I'm ready," he said. "Give me plenty of juice."

  She wrapped her arms around his chest. Her skin was so bright he had to squint against the glare. So much healing energy coursed through his body that he felt uncomfortably hot.

  He reached into his own hip. It was a disorienting sensation, but he forced himself to stay focused. He found the broken bones and began to push them back into place.

  "How are you doing?" she said.

  "Pretty well," he said.

  "I hate to hurry you, but Carlos is also doing pretty well. We only have a couple of minutes at best."

  He concentrated. He molded his bones like chunks of clay to fuse them together. It wasn't his best work. When he had time later, he would smooth and shape the bones properly.

  He sat up and saw that Carlos was mostly reassembled. His entire torso and head was a single piece now. Fortunately, the legs and arms were still detached.

  Smythe got to his feet. His balance was off, and he realized one leg was slightly shorter than the other. It was a rush job, he thought, but fixable.

  He and Odelia ran off.

  * * *

  Norbert looked up at a giant, steel tank. It was labeled "WATER," but according to the information Wesley had extracted, it actually contained the control room.

  "Careful. The guy told us it's electrified."

  "I remember," Wesley said.

  There was no obvious way to get in. The massive tank stood on steel supports with about three feet of open space underneath. It didn't even have a hatch.

  Norbert looked around. Dust covered the smooth concrete floor, and their footprints were clearly visible. It gave him an idea.

  He walked slowly around the tank, staring down. Eventually, he found a path through the dust that had seen a lot of foot traffic. That section of the floor was almost clean. He walked along the path until it ended at a vertical pipe big enough to conceal a ladder.

  He tapped his foot as he considered his next step. He was afraid to touch the pipe.

  Wesley walked over. "I'm surprised nobody is attacking us."

  "Why?" Norbert looked at him.

  "The enemy must know we're here." Wesley pointed at a surveillance camera mounted on a wall.

  The lens was aimed directly at them.

  "I noticed it's been getting quiet. I haven't heard any gunshots or explosions for a few minutes. I hope Smythe and Odelia are all right."

  "I bet the protection team came for me."

  "That would explain the silence," Norbert said. "Dead men aren't very noisy. If we could just turn off that jammer, we could find out what's going on."

  He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. A guard was kneeling on a catwalk with a sniper rifle. He was aiming through a scope.

  Norbert threw himself in front of Wesley. A bullet struck Norbert in the chest. He returned fire with his pistol. It took three shots to knock the sniper off the catwalk.

  Norbert felt pain in his chest. The body armor had saved him again, but he was hurt.

  "That bullet was meant for me," Wesley said. "Thank you."

  "Is the prophesy fulfilled?" Norbert coughed. "I saved your life. Are we done?"

  "Not done at all. You'll be my full-time guardian angel one day."

  "What does that mean? I'll be on your protection team?" Norbert gently rubbed his sore chest. It felt like he had a cracked rib.

  "You'll be the whole protection team," Wesley said. "But don't worry about it now. The twins still need you, at least until their project is done."

  Norbert furrowed his brow. He was coming to the conclusion that Wesley's prophesies were intended to be annoying and cute rather than helpful. There was no useful information in them. It was a way for him to demonstrate his superiority over everybody else.

  Norbert refocused his attention on the problem of getting inside the control room. His first task was dealing with the electric charge on the tank. He spotted a heavy chain lying in the corner and ran over to it. When he tried to pick up the chain, pain in his chest made him groan.

  "Let me help you," Wesley said.

  Working together, they wrapped one end of the chain around a steel post in the floor. They tossed the other end over a copper pipe connected to the tank.

  A blue spark dazzled Norbert's eyes. The place where the chain touched the pipe glowed red, and he heard a hum. The pieces of metal were being welded together. Something popped loudly, and the hum stopped.

  "Is it safe?" Wesley said.

  "Only one way to be sure."

  Norbert quickly brushed the tip of his finger against the tank. He jerked his hand back just in case, but he felt nothing. He touched the tank again with more confidence.

  "Safe," he announced.

  The next problem was getting into the pipe. There was probably a hidden latch or something, but he didn't want to waste time looking. He stuck a demolition charge onto the pipe. The explosive package was designed to breach stubborn doors.

  He and Wesley ducked behind cover. The explosion echoed from the hard walls of the huge building. When Norbert lifted his head to look, he saw the pipe torn open.

  He ran over and put his arm through the hole. He felt around until he discovered an interior handle. A hidden door popped open, and there was a ladder inside as expected.

  It was difficult to climb with
a broken rib, but Norbert put the pain out of his mind. Smythe would heal him later, if Smythe was still alive.

  Norbert reached another door inside the pipe. It was made of solid steel and had an electronic keypad.

  "They take security seriously here," he said. "I guess when you work in a building full of insanely violent people, you can't be too careful."

  Wesley nodded.

  Norbert had brought only one breaching package, but he did have another detonator and several grenades. He made a pile at the base of the door and set the timer for two minutes. He and Wesley hurried back down the ladder.

  "I never get any training in demolitions," Wesley said. "The focus is always on martial arts."

  Norbert shrugged. "I guess they don't want you handling high explosives. Makes sense."

  The grenades went off. The pipe contained the explosion, but the force visibly stretched the metal. Hot gases blew out the open doorway. The entire structure rang like a gong.

  Norbert led the way. Smoky haze made it hard to see as he labored slowly up the ladder. He held a gun in his right hand.

  The steel door was bent open at the bottom. Red light was leaking out of the gap, and as soon as he saw it, he knew he was in trouble. He squeezed his eyes shut, but it was too late. Crushing depression hammered his mind. He wanted to stick his gun in his mouth and pull the trigger.

  "What's wrong?" Wesley said.

  "The light..." Norbert was feeling so bad he could barely speak.

  "Stay calm. Climb back down, one step at a time."

  It took all of Norbert's willpower to come down safely. He finally reached the floor.

  Wesley stood before him. "Now look at my eyes."

  "No." Norbert shook his head. "I'll fight this myself."

  "You're sure?"

  "The enemy's tricks won't beat me a second time."

  Norbert fought with the depression. He knew it wasn't real, and he had no good reason to kill himself. He was young and healthy. He had loyal friends. He was in a relationship with two beautiful, amazing women who loved him dearly. He served a truly great commander. Best of all, he was a legionnaire in the Gray Spear Society. There was no better job anywhere. A stupid red light wasn't going to take all that away from him.

  Norbert nodded. "I think I'm all right now."

  "That was impressive." Wesley raised his eyebrows. "You've gotten a lot stronger, and not just your body."

  "Thank you, but I don't know if I can do it again."

  "Then I'll go up by myself."

  "What about the light?" Norbert said.

  "It can't do anything to me. I only see the truth."

  Norbert didn't like the idea, but he had no alternative suggestion. Wesley was the only person who could get into that room safely.

  The boy went up the ladder. Norbert paced anxiously as he waited. The lingering effects of the red light were still bothering him, and it would be days before he felt completely normal again.

  After what seemed like an hour, Wesley yelled down the pipe, "You can come up now. I turned off the light."

  Norbert went up. He had to squeeze through the gap under the door, which didn't make his broken rib feel any better.

  He stood up in the control room and looked around. There were about a dozen dead security guards and technicians. It appeared they had shot themselves with their own guns.

  "I bet none of these guys are Dr. Rascher," Norbert said.

  Wesley pointed at a dark, square hole in the wall. "He went that way. I found the switch for the red light in that tunnel."

  Norbert touched the blood on one of the bodies. "Cold. He must be long gone. Find a way to turn off the phone jammer."

  There were a number of consoles with lots of buttons on them. As he examined the complex controls, he kept an eye on the many surveillance feeds. The room was full of monitors. He started to see familiar faces on the screens.

  "Aaron and Tawni are here," Norbert announced. "I also see Atalanta. And Yvonne. Oh, good Lord, she's eating." He shuddered in revulsion.

  "She gets hungry," Wesley said.

  "How often?"

  "To stay at peak strength, she must digest a live adult at least once every three days."

  Norbert grimaced. "How does she find victims?"

  "She goes out at night alone. She walks around in a bad neighborhood until somebody messes with her. Her meals choose themselves."

  "That's horrible."

  Wesley shrugged.

  After a little more searching, Norbert found a set of controls labeled "radio interference system." He turned off the entire panel.

  Seconds later, his phone rang.

  With a smile, he answered the call. "I'm alive."

  "Thank God!" Bethany cried. "We were so afraid!"

  "I know. I'm sorry you had to suffer. I need you to get an urgent message out to everybody. I'm with Wesley in the northeast corner of the building. We're inside a room disguised as a big water tank. The whole team should meet us here ASAP."

  "I got it. Can you plug in the network tap? We want to start downloading all the data."

  "Sure." Norbert closed his phone.

  "You didn't talk about the injury," Wesley said.

  "They have enough to worry about. Help me look for a place where I can plug in a network cable."

  Norbert had a gray device which would create a wireless link back to headquarters. He found an appropriate outlet near the floor and plugged it in.

  After a short time, his phone rang again.

  He put it against his ear. "Yes?"

  "The tap is working," Bethany said. "We're in the system now. We tried to call everybody on the team and deliver your message."

  "Tried?"

  "Aaron, Tawni, Charles, Atalanta, and Yvonne responded. Carlos, Smythe, and Odelia did not."

  Norbert had a sick feeling. He pressed buttons to switch between surveillance feeds in an effort to find his missing teammates. He saw dead bodies all over the building. Some rooms were littered with them. He couldn't find any wearing black and gray body armor though.

  Finally, he discovered Smythe and Odelia in a long hallway. They seemed to be running for their lives with desperate expressions. A moment later, Carlos came into view, chasing after them.

  "Oh, no," Wesley said. "The bad light is in Carlos. He's going to kill them."

  Norbert's throat tightened. His best friends were about to die right in front of his eyes.

  "Give me the phone!" Wesley said.

  Norbert handed him the phone.

  "Bethany," the boy said, "we need my light right now! Use the equation I wrote. Send that signal through every television in this building. Hurry!"

  "What are you talking about?" Norbert said.

  "No time to explain. You need to guide our friends to a place with lots of televisions."

  Norbert found a paper map of the facility on a table. The surveillance feeds were numbered and corresponded to marks on the map. He pinpointed Smythe and Odelia's location.

  Norbert grabbed a microphone labeled "general announcements."

  * * *

  Smythe's lungs were burning, but he didn't dare slow down. He had no more grenades to throw, and Carlos was getting closer every second. Smythe pulled on Odelia's hand to help her keep up. If they were going to die tonight, at least they would be together at the end.

  They entered a big room full of pipes and stainless steel tanks. It looked like the guts of a refinery or a brewery. Solid ice covered some of the pipes which gave Smythe an idea. He identified one of the tanks as containing something extremely cold.

  He fired several rounds into the tank. Clear liquid poured out, and it immediately began to vaporize. Liquid nitrogen, he thought. Exactly what I need.

  He and Odelia jumped over the spreading pool on the floor. An instant later, Carlos' feet splashed in the liquid, and he let out a bellow of rage.

  Smythe glanced over his shoulder. Carlos' frozen feet had broken off, but he was proceeding forward on the stumps of
his legs. The liquid nitrogen had slowed him down though.

  "Smythe," a voice boomed from above, "this is Norbert. Wave your arm so I know you can hear me." Echoes of Norbert's voice bounced around inside the vast building.

  Smythe waved his arm.

  "I'll lead you to safety," Norbert said. "When you leave that room, turn right."

  Smythe nodded. He wondered what Norbert had in mind. As far as Smythe knew, there was nothing in the world that could stop Carlos.

  Smythe looked over his shoulder again. Carlos had left chunks of frozen skin on the floor, but he had escaped from the liquid nitrogen. It wouldn't take him long to heal and return to full strength.

  Smythe and Odelia took the next right. They entered a room that was cold enough to be a refrigerator. Dead bodies were stacked against the walls like piles of wood. Some of the victims had died of horrific injuries. He also saw signs of badly botched surgeries and amputations. He swore the doctor who had committed these atrocities would pay dearly.

  "Keep going!" Odelia said. "Don't look."

  Smythe nodded.

  Norbert's voice thundered again, "There is a long, straight hallway ahead. Follow it."

  Smythe left the refrigerator room. He found himself in a confusing intersection with several choices, but only one was long and straight. He pulled Odelia's hand in that direction. Their feet pounded on the concrete as they ran.

  They went through a doorway and entered a wide circular area with television sets placed all around. It was similar to the place where all this trouble had started. The televisions were showing a test pattern.

  "Wait there," Norbert said. "The twins are still working."

  Working on what? Smythe said.

  He and Odelia leaned on each other as they caught their breath. Running in body armor and carrying a full load of weapons was hard work.

  Two men and two women entered the arena through another door. Smythe knew immediately they were insane. Their naked bodies were marked with injuries, some old and some still bleeding. They carried chunks of wood and pipes as primitive weapons.

  Smythe drew his gun.

  "Don't kill them!" Wesley yelled through the announcement system. "They're innocent."

  Smythe and Odelia assumed defensive postures, and within seconds, fists and feet were flying. Smythe had difficulty adjusting his technique to match his opponents. They had minimal skills, but their attacks were completely reckless. They didn't seem to care how much pain they suffered.