Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7)

by Siegel, Alex

  Sheryl reached into her pocket and found something unexpected. She pulled out two bent silver bracelets. Corrosion had made them black, and moist dirt clung to them. She screeched and dropped the bracelets.

  "Who are you?!" she screamed at the computer screen.

  "zero: I am the First Magician, the Prime Illusionist. the twins are working on an important project for Me. do not distract them. leave the room now."

  She looked down at the bracelets on the floor. She recognized them as the ones she had stolen from her mother. It was physically impossible for those bracelets to be here.

  Shaking with fear, Sheryl backed out of the computer room. She stood in the hallway for a moment, breathing rapidly.

  "Aaron!" she yelled. "Where are you?" She ran to his private suite and pounded on the door.

  "What is it?" Aaron replied from the other side of the door. His voice was muffled.

  "I think God just talked to me!"

  She heard quiet cursing. After a minute, the door opened. Aaron was wearing a gray bathrobe, and his face was flushed. Sweaty hair stuck to his scalp.

  "What did He tell you?"

  "To leave the twins alone," Sheryl said.

  "Why? Were you bugging them?" He looked past her shoulder. "Fuck!" He pushed her aside and strode over to Jack. "What the hell are you doing?"

  Jack remained focused on the monkey machine. Aaron kicked Jack in the shoulder hard enough to knock him onto his side.

  "Hey!" Aaron bellowed. "I'm talking to you!"

  Jack looked up from the floor. "Sir?"

  "Fifteen minutes ended well over an hour ago."

  "I was just..."

  "You were just addicted! This is exactly what I was afraid of."

  "I was in control, sir," Jack said in a quavering voice.

  "Bullshit!" Aaron roared. "You looked like a slobbering idiot. I should never have brought those damned machines into my headquarters. They're contaminating my home and my people. On your feet!"

  Jack stood up quickly. With a pale face, he cowered before his commander.

  "Pick up the machine," Aaron growled.

  Jack grunted and strained as he lifted the monkey machine. Aaron grabbed the other one with much less effort.

  "Follow me."

  Aaron led Jack to a nearby flight of stairs. Sheryl tagged along several paces back.

  They climbed up to the roof, and this was the first time she had seen it. There was a big, blue helicopter that looked sleek and fast. A white metal shed was off to the side. There was other equipment she didn't recognize including ten devices with arms that extended over the edge. The air was very warm and humid.

  Aaron peered over a lip that ran around the edge of the roof. "It's clear." Without ceremony, he tossed his machine off the building.

  Sheryl heard it smash on the ground a few seconds later.

  "Your turn," he ordered.

  Jack shook his head. "But, sir..."

  "Throw it, or I'll throw you."

  The strange shadows had returned to Aaron. Even though he was standing in bright sunlight, darkness clung tenaciously to the hollows of his face.

  Jack shuffled his feet as he approached the lip. With a sad expression, he put his machine down and pushed it off.

  "Go down to the parking lot and sweep up that mess," Aaron said. "Then go home and stay there. I don't want to see your face again until your next shift in the booth. I'm very disappointed."

  Jack lowered his gaze. "Yes, sir." He walked back to the stairs and went down.

  Aaron exhaled loudly.

  "You were pretty hard on him, sir," Sheryl said softly.

  "He disobeyed my orders and put himself in real danger. That's intolerable. I suppose it's my fault, too. I shouldn't have left him alone with the game. Damn it! I screwed up twice today. First Nancy, and now Jack." He shook his head.

  "Is Marina distracting you?"

  "I should be above distractions," he said, "especially when the safety and security of my team is at stake. Now, what was this conversation with God?"

  "He told me to stay away from the twins. They're working on an important project."

  "And how do you know it was God?"

  "He did an impossible trick," she said. "He told me things only He could know."

  Aaron nodded.

  "You believe me?"

  "Sure."

  Sheryl raised her eyebrows. "Usually, when a person claims she talked to God, she is told to seek psychiatric counseling."

  "I've met the Boss a few times. I think just about everybody on my team has, including your darling Tawni. When I told you we work for God, I wasn't speaking metaphorically. Of course, it's not normal to have a divine encounter on your first day. You must've really annoyed Him."

  Her legs felt weak. Of all the crazy things she had seen and heard since her arrival, this one topped the list.

  "I wanted to warn you about the twins," Aaron said, "but I didn't get to it in time."

  "Are they really doing a project for God?"

  "Yes, but don't ask about it. You're scared enough."

  She bit her lip. She couldn't imagine what that project might be.

  "Go back to Wisconsin," he said. "Take your rental car. The long drive will help you settle down, and you need to get ready for your show tonight. I'm expecting a spectacular and convincing death. Marina and I will catch up with you later."

  "Yes, sir. That sounds like a good idea."

  * * *

  Aaron hurried back towards his bedroom. He rushed down the stairs and almost ran into Nancy.

  "Oh, sir!" she said. "I was looking for you."

  He reluctantly stopped. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm fine. Just a sore throat. I wanted to talk to you about the Chinatown building."

  His shoulders sagged. "Now?" He could see the door of his private suite. Marina was waiting behind it.

  "It will just take a couple of minutes."

  "Quickly." Aaron sighed.

  "Yes, sir," Nancy said. "I've been working on the problem of creating a secret entrance. There is an empty lot across the road to the north. It's just being used for free parking now. We could buy it and build a little parking garage. We'll hide the entrance in the bottom, below ground level. A secure tunnel under the road will connect back to the basement of our building."

  "Good idea." He nodded. "Start making inquiries."

  "I've also been doing some structural analysis. We'll have to reinforce the floor of the..."

  "Hold on. Let's talk about this later—" He glanced at his door again. "—when I'm not so preoccupied. Tomorrow morning."

  "Yes, sir."

  He jogged to his bedroom and closed the door. Marina was lying in his bed under the blankets. She threw them off dramatically. She was wearing a tight, little outfit made of lace which was ridiculously erotic. He dropped his bathrobe to the floor and eagerly joined her in bed.

  "What was that about?" she said.

  He pulled her against his chest. "We had a little trouble." He told her what had happened with Jack and Sheryl.

  "It's a shame you had to destroy the machines, but I'm sure it was the right choice. Sheryl certainly had an interesting day."

  "She asked me a question which I'm still thinking about. Are you distracting me from my job? Nancy and Jack got into trouble this afternoon, and both incidents were avoidable."

  She furrowed her brow. The room was dimly lit, and velvety shadows gave her a mysterious air. She was so beautiful.

  "It's possible," she said softly. "This is why Ethel separated us."

  "I'm not going to send you home early. I couldn't. But I have to be more focused and less horny."

  "No more sex?"

  "One more time," he said, "then we're done for today. And only one time tomorrow... or maybe twice."

  She kissed him on the lips. "You have an iron will."

  * * *

  Tawni looked out the window at the Indiana countryside. It was very flat and very boring. She coul
dn't imagine why anybody would choose to live here.

  Enormous farms occupied most of the land. She recognized corn, but the other crops just looked like shrubs to her. The corn stalks were remarkably tall, straight, and close together. There was hardly enough room to walk between them. She wondered how farmers could work in those fields.

  She was sitting in the center row of a minivan with heavily tinted windows. Norbert was driving, and Smythe was riding shotgun. They hadn't spoken much during the four-hour drive. Aside from a short discussion about Sheryl, there was nothing to talk about.

  Norbert turned off the road and parked in front of a brown building. "We're here," he announced, "finally."

  The Ultrastar Pinball factory was just one story high but very wide. Thick paint covered brick walls with few openings. A rusty air-conditioning unit was rattling loudly on the flat roof.

  Tawni got out of the van. The humid air outside was like a warm, sticky slap in the face. She stretched her back and tried to work the stiffness out of her body. Her spine popped.

  She checked her surroundings. A line of trees and bushes provided the factory with a little privacy from neighbors. Through the gaps, she saw distant barns. The landscape in the immediate vicinity was tall grass, weeds, and the occasional wild flower. The thick foliage would provide good cover if she needed it.

  Smythe and Norbert joined her.

  "Does everybody remember our cover story?" Smythe said.

  Norbert and Tawni nodded.

  "Let me do the talking," Smythe said.

  She frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "Why?"

  "You're the most honest guy I know. The dictionary has your picture next to the definition of integrity."

  "Thank you. That's very nice." He grinned.

  "What I'm trying to say is you suck at lying. Maybe Norbert should do the talking."

  Smythe raised his eyebrows. He turned to Norbert.

  "She has a point." Norbert shrugged. "Undercover work isn't your strength. I'm not saying you're incompetent. It's just that one of us would probably do a better job."

  "It's hard to argue otherwise. Norbert, you do the talking. My integrity and I will keep quiet. Let's go."

  Tawni brought up the rear as the three of them walked toward the front door. They all wore blue coveralls, work boots, and white plastic hard hats. Smythe carried a clipboard and a pen.

  A man sat on a wooden chair by the door. His military-style haircut didn't match his dense, irregular beard. A leather jacket was much too heavy for the warm weather, but it was zipped up. Tawni imagined he had concealed weapons underneath. His face was flushed and sweaty.

  She expected a confrontation, but the man just glared with open suspicion.

  Norbert led the team inside, and the air was only marginally cooler indoors. The building had no internal walls, but tall shelves full of spare parts divided the space into sections. Strips of fluorescent lights ran the length of the building. A dozen or so workers moved slowly as they assembled pinball machines. They looked half-asleep in the stifling warmth.

  Tawni didn't see any Super Double Monkey machines. Aside from the guard at the door, there were no apparent threats. The place seemed like a dreary, old factory.

  Norbert went over to an overweight man sitting behind a desk. He was the only employee wearing a shirt with buttons. A disorganized clutter of paperwork covered the scratched and dented surface of the desk.

  He looked up with an expression of surprise. "Hello?"

  Norbert offered his hand. "I'm Mr. Merton. We're from the Federal Office of Insect Control. You are?"

  "Henry Sands." The man shook Norbert's hand. "What can I do for you?"

  "The Brazilian Nut Beetle has been spotted in this area. We're here to inspect your factory for infestation."

  "The what beetle?"

  "It's a major pest," Norbert said. "It can cause millions of dollars in crop damage. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it. The beetle lays its eggs in enclosed spaces like this building."

  Sands raised his eyebrows. "You want to look around?"

  "Yes."

  Tawni noticed the guard from the front door had come inside. A bulge under his jacket confirmed he had a big gun. She was also well armed, but her weapons were better hidden.

  "Go ahead." Sands shrugged.

  "Thank you," Norbert said. "We'll try not to get in the way."

  He went deeper into the factory, and Tawni and Smythe followed.

  As she walked through the factory, she began to appreciate the hidden complexities of a pinball machine. They had multiple circuit boards and labyrinthine wiring. The hundreds of little components were installed by hand. Below the playing surface was another layer just for catching the ball.

  The workers displayed only mild curiosity about the visitors. Worn-out T-shirts and jeans seemed to be the company uniform.

  "Fan out," Smythe said quietly.

  Tawni nodded and wandered off alone. She made a show of inspecting the dusty corners as if she were looking for beetles. As far as she knew, there was no such thing as a Brazilian Nut Beetle, but it sounded good.

  She still didn't see any evidence of monkey machines. She expected to find some wooden balls at least, but all the ones in the factory were made of metal.

  She stopped in front of one of the workers. She was a middle-aged woman with poorly combed gray hair. A roll of fat bulged over the top of her jeans.

  "Hi!" Tawni said in the most cheerful tone she could manage.

  The woman looked up from her workbench. She was using a jig to drill oddly shaped holes into planks of wood.

  "Do you need something?"

  "We're looking for beetles," Tawni said. "Have you seen any?"

  The worker shook her head. "Just some mice."

  "You're sure? These beetles are sneaky."

  "I'm sure."

  "How long have you had this job?" Tawni said.

  "Fifteen years."

  Tawni winced inside. She couldn't imagine working for so long in such a boring place.

  "You must've seen a lot of changes over the years."

  "Not really," the woman said in a dull voice.

  Tawni decided this conversation was too depressing. She nodded politely and walked off.

  The team searched the factory for another twenty minutes. She, Smythe, and Norbert gathered in the parking lot afterwards.

  "I didn't see anything," Norbert said, "except for the armed thug in front."

  "There was another by the back door," Smythe said. "What about you, Tawni?"

  Tawni shook her head. "They make pinball machines, not monkey machines. I think Aaron got some bad information."

  "I'll call him."

  Smythe took out his phone and made the call. He put it in speaker mode so everybody could hear.

  "Hello?" Aaron said.

  "We searched the pinball factory, sir," Smythe said. "Except for some extra security, we found nothing of interest."

  "You looked everywhere?"

  "We gave ourselves a nice long tour. I even checked the closets. All I found were mouse droppings."

  Aaron sighed. "That's disappointing."

  "Where did you get the information?"

  "From a Russian commander, and he sounded confident. I'm inclined to give my colleague the benefit of the doubt. I want you to stay through the night. Perform covert surveillance. If dawn comes and you still haven't seen anything, come home."

  "Yes, sir," Smythe said.

  "And be careful. I still have a bad feeling. Bye."

  Smythe closed his phone and looked at Tawni and Norbert. "Let's find a good observation point. It's going to be a long night."

  * * *

  Aaron was standing in the right wing of the main theater of the Huhawira Casino. Stagehands were working in the dim light behind the black backdrop. There was a surprising amount of activity, even when nothing was happening on stage. It was a dance that the audience never saw. Just like being a Spear, he thou
ght.

  Sheryl was performing her show. He was watching from the side, and the angle made it much easier to see the secrets behind the tricks. From here, some of them looked so simple and obvious he wondered how they could fool the audience. In magic, as in life, point of view was everything.

  She wore a silky, white gown suitable for a formal dinner party. A diamond necklace and earrings glittered under the bright stage lights. She obviously wanted to look fabulous on the infamous night of her death.

  Aaron was dressed as a cowboy. A tall hat sat awkwardly on his head, and rattlesnake skin boots squeezed his toes. He even had spurs that jangled when he walked. A gun belt hung low on his hips. The costume was old-fashioned, but the gun was modern and exceptionally accurate.

  Sheryl smiled at the audience. "Tonight, I'm going to try a brand new trick." Her amplified voice boomed across the theater. A microphone on her ear was wired to a box on her belt. "It's never been seen on this stage before, and I'm very excited to debut it tonight. To help me, I have a special assistant. Please, put your hands together for Gunslinger Gary!"

  Aaron heard mild applause. That's my cue, he thought.

  He boldly walked onto the big stage. As soon as the hot lights hit his face, he froze. He looked to his right, expecting to see the audience, but instead there was just darkness. With the light blinding his eyes, it was impossible to see the dark auditorium. He knew the people were out there though, hundreds of them. All those eyes were staring at him in his ridiculous cowboy costume.

  "He's a little shy," Sheryl said. "This is his first time doing this kind of show. Give us a moment, please."

  She turned off her microphone and hurried over. "What's wrong, sir?" she whispered.

  Aaron was shivering. "I hate bright lights. I hate big crowds. I hate being watched. This is a nightmare for me."

  "You have stage fright?" She raised her eyebrows.

  "I thought I could fight through it." He glanced at the dark auditorium again. "It's worse than I expected. I don't belong here. People are never supposed to see me."

  "You're a commander in the Gray Spear Society, a feared killer among killers, and the only person in this room with a gun. You'll survive."

  His face grew warm with shame.

  He looked across the stage and saw two paramedics waiting in the wing on the other side. They were Marina and Kamal dressed in blue jumpsuits. Marina gave Aaron an encouraging smile. He couldn't let himself fail in front of her.