Eyes of the World (Gray Spear Society Book 10)

by Alex Siegel

  Tawni looked at the tall, Japanese woman. "What about when you were Charles' bodyguard? He was the legate before, right?"

  "He had a different jet. It was a little smaller than this one. We used the same pilots though. Hi, Tom! Hi, Will! It's good to see you again."

  Tom and Will were standing on the ground near the sharp nose of the aircraft. Both men had short, very compact bodies suitable for fighter pilots. Tom had a full head of luxurious, brown hair. Will was blond and a little younger. They wore casual, civilian clothes but had a military bearing.

  "We need to go to Washington, DC," Ethel said. "It's an emergency."

  "Is it because the President was kidnapped, ma'am?" Tom said.

  "That's right. Every second matters, so fly fast."

  The hatch of the aircraft was twenty-five feet off the ground, and there were no stairs. The only way up was by climbing a crew access ladder that extended from the bottom of the aircraft directly behind the nose gear. The pilots scrambled up first. Boreas pushed a couple of big suitcases up to Tom without effort even though they were probably heavy. Everybody else followed quickly.

  Once they were inside, Ethel said, "No time to look around. Sit down and buckle up."

  Tawni went into the passenger cabin near the front of the aircraft. The walls were plain metal, and the supporting ribs were exposed. Everything was painted dull gray. A dozen simple but comfortable chairs were bolted to the deck. She sat in one and pulled the seatbelt tight.

  Several large televisions were mounted on the front wall of the cabin. As the engines warmed up, the screens turned on. Some showed live video from the exterior, and it was almost as good as having real windows. Other screens showed maps, radar, and threat analysis.

  A satellite image showed a live view of most of North America, and Tawni could see the weather. A snowstorm dominated the Midwest. The freak blizzard had pounded Chicago for two weeks, and she didn't see any breaks in the cloud cover.

  The aircraft started to roll backwards. Tawni giggled with excitement. She loved flying.

  "How long will the flight be?" she asked.

  "We'll be travelling at Mach 1," Ethel said. "We should be there in an hour."

  Tawni nodded and sat back.

  * * *

  General Walker, the Director of the Defense Intelligence Agency and the former Fifth Corner of Freedom, was driving his car through the snowy, flat landscape of Illinois. This was farm country, and vast fields stretched beyond the horizon. An occasional tree dotted the landscape, but they looked lonely. Fences and straight strips of bushes marked the boundaries between fields. Silos and barns were the largest structures in sight. No animals were outside on a miserably cold day like today.

  Walker checked the navigation system on the dashboard. There were few road signs out here, and it was easy to make a wrong turn. Pretty much every farm looked like every other. Enough snow covered the road to make driving an adventure. He maintained a slow, controlled speed in case he hit an ice patch. The interior of the car was toasty warm.

  He made an unmarked turn onto a road that was barely wide enough to have two lanes. The snow here was thicker and chunkier, and he kept a tight grip on the steering wheel. Sunlight bouncing off the snow and ice dazzled his eyes.

  A battered, wooden shed stood near the road. It had been red at one time, but most of the paint had worn off. The walls leaned a little to one side. Walker gently slowed down and stopped by the shed.

  Two men came out to greet him. One wore an orange hunting parka, and the other was dressed in blue. They wore yellow baseball caps with the word "CAT" printed on the front. The men appeared to be civilians, but they were actually highly-trained soldiers.

  Walker rolled down the window and shivered at the blast of freezing air. He took his military badge out of his pocket and showed it to the men. They didn't salute in case somebody was watching.

  The soldier in orange took the badge into the shed. Walker glimpsed electronics and weapons through the open door.

  The other soldier was holding a device that looked like a hunting rifle, but it was actually a radio signal detector in disguise. He began to sweep the car using casual, unobtrusive motions. Walker knew that more sensors were buried under the road.

  After the sweep was done, the first soldier came out of the shed. He handed the badge back to Walker and said, "You're clear to enter, sir. Have a nice day."

  Walker rolled up the window and continued driving.

  After travelling half a kilometer, he approached a two-story, wooden building. Like the shed, the walls were weathered and a little crooked. All the windows were dusty, and a few were broken. A big chimney came up through the middle of the steeply sloped roof. The words "Underhill Coal Mine" were painted on the side in black letters, but they had faded almost to illegibility.

  The road abruptly dipped down into a parking lot below ground level. It held over a hundred cars. The entire lot had been excavated to a uniform depth of five meters. A tent covered the lot, and the white fabric was perfectly level with the ground. From above or the sides, it looked exactly like an empty, snowy field. It was effectively invisible.

  Walker parked the car and got out. No sunlight penetrated the tent, so the only light came from flood lamps. The air was still and cold, but not quite as cold as outside. His breath made clouds of fog.

  He walked quickly across the parking lot. A staircase took him back up to ground level, and bright sunlight made him blink when he emerged into the open air. He wasn't properly dressed for the weather, so he jogged across the snowy ground.

  The entrance to the Underhill Coal Mine was simply a big hole in the ground. No guards were visible. Rusted, metal signs warned of hazardous conditions in the mine. The words "serious injury or death" were highlighted. Walker smiled briefly at the irony. The conditions in this mine were indeed hazardous but not for the usual reasons.

  Narrow gauge railroad tracks came out of the mine and terminated about twenty meters beyond the entrance. A rusty mine cart was parked on the tracks, and it didn't look like it had moved in decades. The metal walls were riveted together. Walker climbed awkwardly into the cart which had a layer of fresh snow on the bottom.

  He opened up a metal panel to reveal a futuristic palm scanner. He put his hand against the glass plate.

  "General Sandy Walker," he said slowly. "We follow in the footsteps of the husband of Theano and the father of Telauges."

  With a jolt and a squeak, the mine cart began to move. It descended into the mine, picking up speed as it went. The wheels looked rusty but they rolled smoothly, driven by hidden electric motors. There was no light at all inside the mine, and Walker couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He held the sides of the cart tightly as it navigated through black passages. He knew he was passing automatic machine guns, flamethrowers, and other defensive systems. The air grew warmer as he went down into the Earth.

  Finally, Walker saw light ahead. The cart stopped in front of a huge, steel door guarded by four soldiers. Unlike the soldiers in the shed, these wore proper Army uniforms. They carried assault rifles and wore advanced body armor. They snapped to attention when Walker climbed out of the cart.

  The steel door looked like it belonged on a bank safe. It was half a meter thick and weighed many tons. He swiped his badge through a reader beside the door and typed in a code. He heard the hiss of huge, hydraulic pistons as the door moved out of the way.

  Walker entered the underground base. He walked through gleaming, modern corridors with rooms on both sides. The walls were a cheerful green. Original bedrock poked through in spots, reminding him that he was deep underground. All of this had been built at great expense in the last three months.

  He descended through two levels until he finally reached the command bunker where the real action happened. His identity was reconfirmed twice along the way.

  The bunker itself was encased in layers of solid steel. To get inside, he had to pass through a doorway that was more like a short tunnel.
The bunker had an independent air and water supply, and the occupants could survive for weeks even if the rest of the base fell. The interior was the size of a gymnasium.

  Twenty officers and technicians sat in front of elaborate control consoles. All operational intelligence converged here. Walker could follow troop movements in real time down to the level of individual soldiers. Stealth surveillance drones and satellites let him see everything, day or night. He had the City of Chicago under a microscope.

  Of course, the part he really cared about was the Rosemont Tower Hotel. He looked up at giant screens at the front of the bunker. Video projected onto the screens showed various views of the hotel. The glass sides reflected the sunlight with the color of a new penny. A sleek, blue helicopter was parked on the snowy roof. Two white, metal sheds made him wonder what was inside them.

  The parking lot around the hotel was mostly empty, but a car drove into the lot as Walker watched. He furrowed his brow with concern. The Army was in the process of imposing a quarantine. The hotel wasn't supposed to have new guests. Maybe it's an employee, he thought.

  "Anything happening at the hotel?" he asked out loud.

  "Not much, sir," one of the technicians replied. "People have been coming and going, but it's a hotel. You'd expect that."

  "Let's try to estimate how many are inside."

  "Yes, sir. Air traffic control saw something interesting a little while ago."

  Walker went over to an officer sitting behind a console. He was relatively young for a lieutenant, and his head was shaved almost bald. An elaborate headset covered his ears and held a microphone in front of his mouth. He was having a continuous conversation, but the language was all codes and call signs.

  Walker tapped the lieutenant on the shoulder. "You saw something?"

  "Yes, sir!" He took off his headset. "This aircraft flew out of Chicago fifteen minutes ago."

  Walker looked at an image on one of the monitors. It showed a B-1B bomber with an unusual black and gray paint job. The members of the Gray Spear Society had worn black and gray body armor during the battle with Unit K last night.

  "Did you identify it?"

  "I tried, sir," the lieutenant said. "It has an Air Force call sign, but it's not on any of my lists. I couldn't find any record of it anywhere. The skin seems to have some stealth properties. Notice the hump on the back, sir. It's been upgraded. The plane flew east at Mach 1 until radar lost contact."

  Walker nodded. "That's an enemy aircraft."

  "That was my assumption, sir, but we couldn't shoot it down without your authorization."

  "It's better that you didn't. We're not ready for hostilities to begin. Our troops are still arriving. Have some assets on standby in case we see that plane again. Next time, we will shoot it down, ready or not."

  "What kind of assets, sir?" the lieutenant asked. "Fighters?"

  Walker studied the aircraft on the monitor. The odd bulge in the fuselage made him worry. The Gray Spear Society was notorious for having surprising capabilities. He had watched the battle with Unit K last night, and he had seen things that were impossible. A man had destroyed an assault rifle by spitting at it. A woman had chopped apart an armored truck with a black sword. This black and gray bomber was probably harder to kill than Walker would expect.

  "Let's put a couple of Black Owls in the air," he said.

  The lieutenant stared at Walker. "Sir? Isn't that overkill?"

  "Better overkill than underkill."

  "I don't have the authorization. I don't think you do, either, sir. You'll need to ask... her." The lieutenant looked over his shoulder and shuddered.

  Walker followed his gaze. A raised platform was behind the rows of console operators. Erika lived up there.

  "She's not a horror movie monster."

  "Close enough, sir," the lieutenant said.

  Walker headed towards the back of the bunker. He climbed a flight of stairs to reach the upper level. He was afraid to see what Erika was doing, but he forced himself to be brave and look.

  The "Queen of the Pythagoreans" spent most of her time in a giant, glass box. It was air-tight and had separate ventilation from the rest of the bunker. Her body emitted a powerful pheromone that forced men to love her and do anything she asked. They unwillingly became her adoring slaves. The same pheromone reduced women to drooling idiots. The effects weren't permanent, but they could linger for days even after Erika was gone.

  She was a Hispanic woman of average height. Her skin tone was light enough that she could be mistaken for a white woman with a tan. Her face was plain, but her long, black hair was attractive. It cascaded across her shoulders in waves. She was well-fed but not really fat.

  She had four male slaves in the box with her. They were uniformly young, handsome, and muscular. They wore nothing but elastic bathing suits which showed they were also well-hung.

  Her enclosure also contained some nice furniture including an antique brass bed. An ultra-modern entertainment system stood against one wall. A curtain screened off a toilet and shower area, and it was the only place where she had privacy. She wasn't a shy woman.

  Two of the men were wrestling while Erika watched from a tall, velvet chair. Her slaves were really going at each other. One was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, and the other had a broken finger. She was clearly enjoying the violent spectacle.

  "Erika," Walker said. A system of microphones and speakers allowed them to communicate through the glass.

  "Wait." Erika raised her hand. "Let them finish."

  He sighed.

  The wrestling match ended when one man suffered a dislocated shoulder. The winner was granted the privilege of kissing Erika's bare toes. The loser was sent off to his room, still with his arm out of its socket.

  She finally looked at Walker. She was wearing a purple gown cut in a regal style. Diamonds dotted the hems.

  "I'm back," he said.

  "I see that." She smiled. "There was some excitement while you were gone. An enemy bomber flew out of Chicago."

  "I heard. I don't like enemy aircraft in my airspace. Let's fly a couple of Black Owls over Chicago."

  She furrowed her brow. "What are those?"

  "The latest word in air-superiority," Walker said. "Unmanned vehicles that fly at very high altitude for many hours at a time. They shoot pulsed lasers from above and can knock almost anything out of the sky. The problem is I don't have the authority to use them. The technology is highly classified. You'll have to make a call."

  "Of course."

  She took a small, black notebook out of her pocket and flipped through the pages. After finding what she was looking for, she went to a table and picked up an old-fashioned phone. She dialed the number on an actual rotary dial.

  "Chaz," she said, "this is Erika. How are things? Oh? Really? That's unpleasant. I hope you taught her a strong lesson... Yes, she certainly won't forget that! Anyway, General Walker wants something called a Black Owl. Actually, he wants two... I'm sure a little red tape isn't a problem for a man like you. Get it done. Don't make me call a second time. OK? Thank you, darling." She hung up and looked at Walker. "You'll have them within an hour."

  He nodded. "Thank you."

  "Are we still on schedule?"

  "I'll check."

  Walker had set up his office on the side of the raised platform. He had a wooden desk, a comfortable chair, and a computer. He used the computer to check the latest progress reports from the unit commanders in the field.

  After several minutes, he said, "The deployment is proceeding smoothly. Some units are already in position. We should have no problem with attacking tonight. I'll spend the rest of the day working out the battle plan in detail. I was thinking about starting off with an artillery barrage to soften up the enemy and make them shit their pants."

  A ball of violet light appeared in the air between them. Jagged electric sparks danced in the center of the ball. It pulsed like the heartbeat of an angry animal. Walker felt a painful chill in his chest,
and his extremities tingled.

  He and Erika immediately threw themselves onto the floor. They looked up from a submissive position.

  "No!" the ball said in a voice that bounced around inside Walker's skull. "There will be no artillery barrage. No bombs. No missiles. No explosives of any kind. Your objective is to conquer and control the fortress, not destroy it."

  "I'm not sure I understand, master," Walker said weakly.

  "A powerful secret is hidden there. The Great Adversary has used all His tricks to keep that secret from us. His attention is entirely focused on that place. Even the Voice of Truth has come out of hiding to be there. We must learn the secret! We must understand what is so important. Your soldiers will enter carefully without excessive destruction. They will study what they find and interrogate captives. I will hear the reports. That is your task."

  Walker swallowed. "Yes, master, but why can't you just see the secret for yourself? You can go anywhere you want."

  "I can't enter a stronghold," the violet ball said. "The Great Adversary guards them too well. That is why I must rely on weak worms like you. Do this for us, and you will be granted your heart's desire."

  The light faded away.

  My heart's desire, Walker thought. A free wish. That was the prize at the end of this mission. He had some specific ideas of what to ask for. Immortality sounded useful. He also liked the idea of being emperor of the Earth. He wasn't sure if these were real possibilities, but it didn't hurt to ask. Erika had received her ability to emit pheromones as a result of a similar bargain years ago. The benefactors weren't constrained by the laws of physics.

  "The benefactors are wise and just," she chanted. She stood up and straightened her gown.

  Walker also stood. His heart was still beating fast. "I guess an artillery barrage won't happen. We'll have to do this by throwing warm bodies at the enemy. Good thing we have plenty to spare."

  He took another look at the big screens at the front of the command bunker. The Rosemont Tower Hotel was still on display in glorious color and detail. He noticed a big, white plastic ball on the roof. It looked like the housing for a radar dish. Interesting, he thought.