by Alex Siegel
"We're cut off," he said.
"We have plenty of legionnaires in the hotel," Charles said. "You told the Dragon to prepare for battle."
Aaron looked at the old man. He was still wearing his perfectly tailored gray suit and was carrying his silver cane. Not one of his silver hairs was out of place. He always managed to look fresh and composed under any circumstances. It was an admirable trait.
"Half of them still don't have decent weapons," Aaron said. "In a straight-up fight, they could get creamed. We don't even know how many soldiers are out there. We need a better plan." He punched his palm with his fist in frustration.
He listened to the tempest raging above. The thunder was coming so quickly, it was hard to tell when one blast ended and the next began.
"God made this storm," Perry said. "He knew this would happen. Why would He hang us out to dry like this?"
Aaron narrowed his eyes and looked at the hacker. "He wouldn't."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Grab your heavy coats, gentleman." Aaron smiled. "We're going up to the roof."
Perry blinked. "Are you serious, sir? It sounds like a war is being fought out there!"
"That's exactly right, and we don't want to miss the show. Come on!"
Aaron ran to his private suite. He grabbed his coat, gloves, hat, and snow boots. He put everything on as quickly as he could.
He waited impatiently until Perry and Charles joined him at the stairway. The group went up to the roof together.
Aaron had expected a loud and impressive spectacle, but the storm went beyond anything he imagined. The flashes of lightning left long, purple streaks in his vision. The thunder shook his body like a rag doll. All he could hear was the Lord's roaring fury.
Aaron jogged to the eastern edge of the roof. He looked down on the front parking lot. The only vehicle entrance was there, so he expected to see some action in that direction. Wind-blown snow stung his eyes as he stared expectantly.
A couple of minutes later, a column of tanks came into view. He recognized them as M1 Abrams. Their low-slung, angular profile made them look deadly. Ten tanks rolled into the parking lot and took up attack positions in front of the hotel.
The concussion from a lightning strike knocked Aaron onto his butt. He was dazed for a moment. His ears were ringing. He had actually felt the warmth from the superheated air. He staggered back to his feet and looked over the edge of the roof.
All the tanks were on fire. Some of the armor had melted and was still glowing orange. One of them exploded as the ammunition detonated.
"Yes!" Aaron yelled, but he could barely hear his own voice. He pumped his fist for emphasis.
He spotted trucks down the street. Lightning struck them with machine gun rapidity. Only smoking wreckage was left behind.
Aaron looked around for more action. He didn't want to miss a thing. He judged the troops approaching on foot would come from the north, so he ran to that edge of the roof.
Flashes of light were dazzling his eyes, but eventually, he saw a wave of soldiers coming towards the hotel. There were at least a thousand of them. They had body armor and were carrying assault rifles. It was an awesome sight.
The enemy flooded across a strip of grass and entered the north lot of the hotel. Aaron winced. He almost didn't want to see this.
The lightning strike blew him off his feet. He was too stunned to do anything but stare at the sky for a long moment. He was sure his hair was standing on end from static charge.
Finally, he got up and viewed the aftermath of the strike. It was even worse than he had feared. All the soldiers had been roasted alive. The parking lot was full of smoking meat wearing body armor.
Perry vomited onto the roof. Aaron couldn't blame him.
The battle ended shortly thereafter. As soon as it was done, the storm began to break up. After a few minutes, Aaron could actually see a few stars. He hadn't seen a clear night sky in weeks.
Thank you, Lord, he thought.
You're welcome, God replied. I got those. You get the rest.
Yes, Sir.
"Let's go back down," Aaron told Perry and Charles. "The show is over."
Chapter Fourteen
"Communication is coming back, sir!" a technician called out happily. "The interference is subsiding."
General Walker opened his eyes. He had tried to sleep on his cot but had failed utterly. He was far too stressed to settle down.
He got to his feet and walked to the edge of the raised platform in the command bunker. He looked down on the backs of the console operators.
"I want reports," he said. "What the hell is going on out there? What did we miss?"
Walker watched the men work at their consoles. Many were speaking softly into headsets. All of them had at least one computer. They had been chosen for their ability to process complex information quickly and adapt to fluid situations.
"Well?" Walker said.
"The units we sent to attack the hotel seem to be gone, sir," an officer responded.
"What do you mean?"
"Nobody is responding to our calls. No telemetry is coming through. We're not even picking up a carrier signal. It's like they vanished."
Walker stared in disbelief. He had sent a large and well-armed force which included tanks. "That's impossible."
"We're getting nothing, sir."
He rubbed his temples. He suddenly had a pounding headache.
He turned to Erika. She was sitting on the edge of her brass bed with a mournful expression. Her three surviving slaves were standing at strict attention with their eyes forward. They were shaking with fear. They knew one of them would probably die to appease their queen's anger.
"What do we do now?" Walker said.
Erika shrugged. "You tell me. You're the military expert."
"Clearly, tonight was an appalling failure. It seems we lost every soldier and piece of equipment we sent into battle. We have no choice but to give up for the night. Tomorrow, we'll regroup and try again. Fortunately, we still have the bulk of our forces. It will just take time to get them organized. We're still dealing with the chaos caused by the cyber-attack this afternoon."
She nodded. "I suppose we have no choice."
"Of course, there is another option. We could nuke the damn hotel and just walk away. This isn't a fair fight. The Gray Spear Society can do whatever the hell they want, while we have to act like pussies. We can't even use artillery! How am I supposed to win when I'm fighting with my hands tied behind my back?"
She stared at Walker and her eyes widened. A violet light made him look up. A ball of violent, electric sparks was just inches from his face. A biting cold gripped his heart. He immediately dropped to the floor.
"You will not nuke the Rosemont Tower Hotel," a deep voice bellowed inside Walker's skull. "My orders were clear. Enter carefully and report what you find. Learn the secret that the Great Adversary is hiding from us."
"Yes, master," Walker said in a humble tone.
"Somebody must pay for tonight's disaster. It will be the queen. She bears the ultimate responsibility."
A jagged bolt of electricity jumped across the room and struck Erika. The glass wall of the enclosure shattered. She writhed and screamed in agony as sparks danced on her skin. The torment went on for quite a while.
Finally, the benefactor vanished. Erika was left on the floor with her hair smoking. She was still breathing, and her eyes were open, but she wasn't moving.
Walker realized he was vulnerable to her pheromones now that the enclosure was broken. He ran down the stairs and sprinted to a door on the far side of the room. He waited to see what would happen. If it appeared the pheromones were affecting anybody else, he would leave immediately.
Her male slaves began to behave oddly. They shook their heads as if waking up from a dream.
One of them, a big man with brown hair and a mustache, pointed at Erika and said, "You sadistic, evil bitch."
Walker was shocked. He had never hea
rd any of her slaves speak that way.
Another slave clenched his fists, and his face turned red with obvious anger. He glared at Erika. He took a step towards her with murderous intent in his eyes.
Walker realized the pheromones had stopped working. The benefactor had taken away her special power, and now she was in trouble.
Walker walked back towards the raised platform, but he didn't hurry. He wouldn't mind seeing the queen take a well-deserved shot or two.
The first slave got to her first. He gave her a savage kick in the gut that almost lifted her off the ground. She feebly tried to protect herself with her arms. The second slave leaned down and punched her hard in the face. The third slave was looking for a way to get into the action. Meanwhile, the first slave gave her another brutal kick.
That's enough, Walker thought. He drew his sidearm and shot all three men in the head. The gunshots echoed from the steel walls of the command bunker.
He walked through the broken wall of the enclosure. The interior smelled faintly of perfume. He had never seen it from the inside, and he looked around with interest.
Erika rolled onto her side and coughed. She had a bloody lip and a bruised cheek.
"Are you OK?" he said.
"No," she croaked. "Thank you for killing them."
"I'm just serving my queen."
She squeezed her eyes shut. "I won't be queen much longer. The Pythagoreans will never accept me now. I'm normal." She spoke the last word with utter disdain. Tears trickled down her cheeks.
"You're still fabulously wealthy and very well connected," he said.
"Doesn't matter."
With difficulty, she propped herself up to a sitting position. She coughed again.
"What are you going to do?" Walker said.
Erika looked up at him. "We have to win. We have to beat the Gray Spear Society. Then I'll get my powers back and more!"
"I suppose that's true."
He helped her to her feet. She leaned against him for support, and the contact made him uncomfortable. He had never touched her before, and he didn't have any desire to. She was a disgusting person in so many ways. His alliance with her was out of necessity.
"We're not going to win tonight," he said. "The best thing would be for both of us to get some sleep and come at the problem fresh in the morning."
She nodded. He helped her get into her brass bed. She sighed as she laid down.
He left the enclosure.
The doors of the bunker were guarded by soldiers, and he pointed at two of them. "Come here and clean up this mess! Get these bodies out of here. It's safe."
"Yes, sir!" they replied.
* * *
Leonardo was standing at the front of his bus as it entered the parking lot of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. The first thing he noticed was the destroyed tanks. He tried to imagine what weapon could do that kind of damage to steel behemoths weighing sixty-tons. The armor had melted in spots and had formed pools on the pavement. Some of the tanks had detonated. That wasn't from mortars, he thought.
Leonardo noticed something odd on the north side of the hotel. He pointed, and the driver drove the bus over there. As they approached, he realized it was a field of dead bodies. They were still carrying weapons and wearing full body armor. Charred skin suggested they had been cooked alive. There were so many corpses, he couldn't even count them. The headlights didn't reach far enough.
Lo que pasó aquí, Dios? Leonardo thought.
He took out his phone and called Aaron.
"Yes?" the Lord of the Society said.
"We're finally here, sir," Leonardo said.
"You took your sweet time."
"The storm made travel difficult. Navigation stopped working. We got lost."
"Have a paper map next time," Aaron said.
"Yes, sir. What happened? I'm looking at a great many dead bodies."
"God flexed His muscles, but we won't be able to count on His help next time. We're on our own from now on."
"What are your orders?" Leonardo said.
"We intercepted communication that indicates the enemy is withdrawing. They've clearly had enough for one night. We killed at least five thousand. You might as well come back into the hotel and sleep in a comfortable bed tonight. You'll head out again in the morning."
Leonardo looked up at the side of the hotel. In the darkness, the seamless glass surface appeared dark brown. Flood lamps illuminated only the lower floors. The top was completely black.
"Yes, sir."
"I'm going to bed, too," Aaron said. "I'll see you bright and early. Bye."
* * *
Marina looked out the front window of the truck at the Chinatown building. It was just five stories tall, but it was very wide. The massive structure squatted on the banks of a river channel. All the bricks and concrete made it look like a real fortress. It had been built at the end of World War II when bombing was a real concern.
It didn't look that old now. All the pollution had been scrubbed off, and new windows had been installed everywhere. Even at night, the building looked polished.
"You guys did a nice job of cleaning this place up," Marina said. "You would never know it was once a toxic waste site."
"Thanks," Nancy said. "It took a ton of money, but the results are worth it. Of course, the big upgrades are hidden. Every structural component was heavily reinforced."
"How do we get inside?"
"Through the garage." Nancy pointed at another construction site across the road. "The secret entrance is on the bottom level."
Marina looked in that direction. A chain-link fence surrounded a half-completed parking garage. It was made of reinforced concrete, and some of the rebar was sticking out. Two levels above ground were complete, and she could tell more levels were below ground. The open sides had allowed snow to get inside. A thick blanket of the white stuff covered the top.
Marina drove over and parked in front of a gate. She left the engine running and the headlights on. A chain and a padlock held the gate closed. She pulled on a knit hat and gloves, and she wrapped a thick scarf around her neck. After summoning her courage, she opened the door and stepped out into the bitterly cold night.
She ran over to the gate. She was reaching for her lock picks when a night watchman came out of a little booth. A heavy green coat went down to his thighs, and a hood was pulled tightly around his head. A ski mask left only small parts of his face exposed.
Marina smiled. "Hi. We need to get in." She glanced back at the long convoy of trucks and buses which had stopped on the road.
"Who are you?" the watchman said suspiciously.
She realized she would probably have to kill this guy. She couldn't let him hang around, and if she sent him away, he might talk to the police.
The sound of crunching snow made her turn. Wesley was walking up to the gate. His bright red coat and red snow boots were adorable. His protection team was right behind him.
The watchman stared at the boy.
"Why are you here?" Wesley asked.
"What do you mean, kid?" the watchman said. "I work here."
"In the dark? Alone? That's a terrible job."
"It pays the bills." The watchman shrugged. "Why do you care?"
"Was this your dream?"
"No. Of course not, but a man has to work."
"What was your dream?" Wesley's blue eyes glittered in the headlights.
The watchman looked down at those eyes, and his confidence drained away. "I wanted to paint paintings, but nobody would buy my art. I have a family to feed. I had to quit."
"You gave up too quickly. There is great art in you. Your patient wife will support you until your talent is recognized. Go home. Sleep. In the morning, begin the life you should've had."
"But..." The watchman looked at the parking garage.
"Don't worry about this place. Its true guardians have arrived. Thank you for keeping it safe for us. Fame and success will be your reward. Go."
The watchman star
ed at Wesley for another moment. Then he unlocked the gate and walked away into the darkness.
"Sometimes having you around is convenient," Marina said. "I could live without the drama though."
Everybody got back in their vehicles. Marina drove her truck across the snow, and the giant wheels had no trouble pushing through it. She entered the garage.
Nancy guided Marina down two levels to the bottom. There was no snow down here, but it was pitch black, and the turns were tight. Headlights provided the only light as Marina wound around the impressive concrete columns.
"Stop, ma'am," Nancy said.
Marina parked in front of a blank wall. Nancy took out her phone and punched in a combination. A big section of the wall pulled back and up. Huge pistons supported the massive block of concrete. Lights came on in the white tunnel beyond.
"Cool," Marina said.
She drove down the tunnel, and the caravan followed right behind her. The tunnel had surprising bends and dips which forced her to slow down.
"Why is it so curvy?"
"To prevent enemies from blasting straight through here," Nancy said. "We'll have weapons all over the place in a couple of months."
"Actually, I don't think you will," Marina said. "This headquarters will never be finished. We won't need it."
"Why, ma'am?"
"Because everything will be different after this."
Nancy appeared disappointed.
"Don't feel sad," Marina said. "This place is exactly what we need, when we need it. It's a miracle, and you were part of it. Be very proud of yourself."
Nancy smiled. "Thank you, ma'am."
The tunnel ended in a spacious, underground area. Marina parked against a wall, and the rest of the convoy began to fill in behind her.
She got out. She was expecting cold, but the air was delightfully warm and comfortable.
"The heat works," she said happily.
"Everything works," Nancy said. "The only thing we really lack is weapons."
Marina walked through a doorway and entered the actual headquarters. The giant room was still open from wall to wall. A regular grid of octagonal pillars supported the roof, and they were very thick. Tiles made of metallic armor covered all the surfaces, and the metal gleamed in iridescent colors.
