by Siegel, Alex
She sighed. "Jermaine, wake him up."
Jermaine walked over and slapped Hanley across the face. The blow was so forceful it knocked him out of his chair. He lay on the floor, gasping in pain. The whole side of his face was stinging.
"Are you still dreaming, Mr. Hanley?" Ethel said. "Does Jermaine need to ring your alarm clock again?"
"I'm awake," Hanley mumbled. A dream couldn't possibly hurt so much.
"Get back in your chair."
He considered trying to run. With his knee fixed, he could move fast now. One look around convinced him it was a bad idea though. He was in a room full of very dangerous people, and all of them were watching him. He wouldn't get far.
He returned to his chair.
Ethel nodded. "Now, answer the question."
"I don't cooperate with terrorists." He looked at the floor.
"You could be useful to me, so I don't want to torture you. What will it take to make you behave? If the director of the FBI ordered you to answer my questions, would you?"
"Maybe." He gave her a confused look. "Why?"
She took a notepad and a pen from a breast pocket. She flipped through the notepad until she found the right page. She made a call on a gray cell phone that was so bulky it looked like a model from twenty years ago.
"Director Clarence Felt?" Ethel said. "This is Ms. Pickenpaugh. Yes, that Ms. Pickenpaugh. I'm very sorry about getting you out of bed at this awful hour, but there is an urgent matter that requires a few minutes of your time. I have one of your men here. Race Hanley, chief of the Special Missions Unit. I need his assistance with some important business, but he's being very difficult. I was hoping you could encourage him to cooperate. Thank you."
She walked over and gave the phone to Hanley.
He put it against his ear. "Director Felt?"
"Yes, it's me." Felt's voice sounded right. "Are you really in the same room with Ms. Pickenpaugh?"
Hanley looked at Ethel. "I guess so. You know her?"
"I've never met her, but I know about her. The entire White House staff knows about her. Listen to me. Do whatever she tells you to do, and be very polite. You want to be on her nice side."
"Why?"
"Because nobody fucks with Ms. Pickenpaugh. Nobody! Do you understand? That's not just friendly advice. It's a scientific statement of fact." Felt sighed. "Please, give the phone back to her."
Hanley returned the phone to Ethel.
She sat down and continued her conversation with Director Felt. "Thanks. What's wrong? Really? That's awful. Three times? Unbelievable. Such behavior must not be tolerated in a free society. Give me his name." She took some quick notes on her notepad. "It will be taken care of on Monday. Of course, your hands will be clean. Don't gush like that. I enjoy performing good deeds for my good friends. We'll just remember this favor the next time I call you in the middle of the night. Go back to bed and rest easy." She put her phone away.
Hanley stared at Ethel. "That wasn't really the director."
"Do you want me to call him again?"
He thought about it for a moment. "No." He looked away. "But I'm still not cooperating with you. You may have the director in your hip pocket, but I don't have to be there with him."
"You're risking a lot more than your own life with that stubborn attitude. The Gray Spear Society operates according to very strict rules, and one of the most important is secrecy. We can't allow anybody else to know we exist. Unless you can convince me otherwise, I have to assume the entire Special Missions Unit has heard about us. All of them have to die."
He looked at her in shock. "You can't do that. Not the entire Unit."
Aaron walked over and handed several sheets of paper to Hanley. "Here are the names."
It was the most recent monthly report. Hanley knew it was accurate because he had written it himself. The report included the complete list of who had worked for the Unit that month and how many hours.
"And addresses." Aaron gave Hanley more papers.
It was a computer printout showing the home addresses and phone numbers of every member of the Unit. Hanley checked a few that he actually knew, and they were right.
"How did you get this information?" Hanley shook the papers. "Half these guys are military operators! Even I don't have access to some of this intel."
"Gathering information is what we do," Ethel said. "The fact is I have everything I need to completely annihilate your precious Unit down to the last man. I won't have a choice. The secrecy of the Society must be protected. Normal people can't know about us."
"But you wouldn't..."
He looked into her eyes and saw the cold abyss at the end of time. She most certainly would.
He had a terrible lonely feeling. He hoped he was just going crazy and none of this was real. That was the most comforting explanation. The alternative was that he was in shit so deep he didn't know which way was out.
"Xavier called you monsters and freaks," Hanley said in a dispirited tone. "I didn't believe him, but he was absolutely right. Only a monster would just kill everybody without thinking twice."
"What about San Francisco?" Ethel said. "You wiped out the whole team."
"No. We arrested as many as we could. We're a government agency, not criminals like you."
Her eyes widened. "There are survivors? How many?"
"Five."
"Are you telling me five of my people have been held in captivity for an entire month, and I didn't know it?"
"Yeah." He sneered. "I guess you don't know everything."
She grabbed a machete and hurled it across the room with a guttural scream. He looked back. The point of the machete was embedded in the oil painting, exactly between the eyes of the old man with a cane. Hanley faced forward in time to see Aaron and Guthrum slowly move away from their boss.
Ethel took a breath and appeared to calm down. She drew a dagger with a black blade. Spinning the dagger between her fingers, she stood up. The weapon spun at such an insane speed that it hummed like a fan. It was just a black circular blur. She walked over to Hanley and stood behind him. The humming noise was just inches from his ears.
"Where are my people being held?" she asked in a voice without any hint of emotion.
There was no point in withholding the information. She could get it from Director Felt or one of her other sources. "ADX Florence," Hanley said. "The supermax prison."
"Are they being treated well?"
"As well as any other extreme risk prisoners, I suppose. Solitary confinement. Continuous surveillance. No outside contact."
"Did you torture them?" Ethel asked.
The humming noise continued. Hanley didn't dare turn around.
"No!" he said. "We interrogated them with humane, legal methods."
"And did they talk?"
He shook his head. "No."
The humming finally stopped.
Ethel returned to her seat and said, "Unfortunately, I can't have my people freed, yet. This business with Xavier is too delicate. They'll have to suffer a while longer. However, you will do whatever you can to make their imprisonment as pleasant as possible. You'll call the warden first thing tomorrow."
"I don't take orders from you."
"Then I'll cut off your head. Either way, you need to address me as ma'am from now on. I'm getting weary of your disrespectful tone."
Those damned, dark eyes stared at Hanley again. He had been in many battles, but he had never felt so close to death as he did now. It was a tangible presence in the room, waiting to snatch him away. He could almost feel the specter breathing on the back of his neck.
He looked at the rest of Ethel's crew. Who were these people, really? Where did they come from?
"I'll do it, ma'am," Hanley said.
She smiled slightly. "Finally, an appropriate response. Now, what did Xavier tell you about us?"
"That you're terrorists, ma'am."
"Did he offer any proof?"
"He gave me a whole list of unsolved crime
s that you're responsible for," Hanley said, "including details that were never released to the public. For example, that massacre in Las Vegas six months ago."
"That group was going to poison the municipal water supply," Ethel said. "They were just hours away from succeeding when we intervened."
"So you say."
"Did you just call me a liar?" She was still holding her black knife. Her index finger stroked the blade like she was petting it.
He swallowed. "No, ma'am. A misunderstanding. Sorry. What about all those deaths in Maryland Heights, Missouri, almost a year ago?"
"I was there," Aaron said. "I did some of the killing."
"Then you admit it!"
"The dead were a Catholic order known as the Brotherhood of the Luciferian Child. They were trying to kill a boy they erroneously believed was the Antichrist. It was my job to protect the boy."
Hanley furrowed his brow. That wasn't anything like the answer he had expected. "What made him so special?"
"He's a prophet. The huge mess in Millennium Park a week earlier was part of the same mission."
"And the office building in Seattle four months ago? A lot of people died."
Ethel nodded. "A group in that building had planted bombs in electrical substations all over the United States. They were going to shut down the entire power grid. Unfortunately, that mission caused too many civilian casualties. I severely chastised the team responsible." She frowned. "None of us are perfect."
"I'm not buying it," Hanley said, "ma'am. I can't believe you're the good guys."
"Xavier was right when he called us monsters. We're monsters created by God to fight His enemies. Let me put it in terms you might understand. The Special Missions Unit was formed to fight human terrorists. We fight the supernatural kind. It's a war that's been going on since the dawn of history."
"Then why haven't I heard about this huge war? Why is it such a big secret? Your story doesn't make sense, ma'am."
She stood up. "When God made the universe, he pulled a curtain around the natural world. Inside this curtain, the laws of physics are always respected. Every effect has a cause. Men and women are free to live happy, rational, predictable lives. But it's an illusion created for the benefit of mankind. Only the Gray Spear Society is allowed outside the curtain. Only we can know the curtain even exists. And out here, sometimes effects precede causes."
She hurled her knife at Guthrum's chest. The move was impossibly quick. It seemed certain he was a dead man, but he stepped out of the way with plenty of time to spare. He actually started moving a half-second earlier even though he had no warning.
He pulled the knife out of the wall and hurled it back. Again, the weapon had deadly speed and accuracy. Guthrum had used all his strength. Hanley was sure Ethel would die this time, but she grabbed the knife when it was just inches from her chest. She calmly put it away.
She faced him and said, "Welcome to the Gray Spear Society. You work for me now."
He opened his mouth.
"Wait," she said. "You're about to say something foolish and probably suicidal. Let me save you from yourself."
She walked over to Aaron and put a hand on his shoulder. He was much bigger than her, but it was clear who held the power.
"Aaron is an interesting man," she said. "He lacks some of the qualities you normally expect in a leader. He isn't always kind. Sometimes he's a real asshole. Nonetheless, his entire team is devoted to him. They would follow him through the flames of Hell and back without question. It's because he has an exceptional quality: flexibility. He adapts to new situations more readily than anybody I know. His mental agility makes him extremely dangerous to his enemies and extremely valuable to me. He created the trap that caught you."
Aaron stood a little taller and smiled.
Ethel approached Hanley. "Now it's your turn to be flexible. You can accept your new situation and embrace the exciting possibilities, or you can be stubborn and die. What choice will you make?"
"Xavier didn't tell me any of this," Hanley said softly.
"Xavier is a traitor!"
Hanley had no idea what to do. He didn't know what to believe anymore. He felt like he had passed through an invisible curtain into an alien land.
He was certain of one thing though. He wanted to live. If that meant giving Ethel the benefit of the doubt, he would do so. It was as good a choice as any.
"I'll do whatever you want, ma'am."
"Good." She sat down. "Let's get back to Xavier. How did he communicate with you? What did he say? Did he talk to anybody else? Tell me everything."
Hanley took a deep breath. "He approached me three months ago. He came to my office in Washington, DC. It was the one time I saw him in person. We only communicated over the phone after that. He talked about the Society in general and presented a lot of criminal evidence. He was very convincing."
"I'm sure he was. Did he tell you why he was so angry at us?"
"He didn't want to discuss it, and I didn't press the issue. I was too excited about the case. It was exactly the kind of thing the Unit was created for. We cut a deal. He would give me the precise locations of your cells, and I would do the rest. Miami was our first try, and it didn't go well. We badly underestimated the level of resistance."
"The Society knows how to protect itself," Ethel said.
"San Francisco was more successful," Hanley said, "but the Unit still took heavy casualties. The entire battle was crazy. It was like we were fighting..."
"Monsters?"
"Yes. I still have bad dreams about that night. Then Xavier told me about the convention, and I knew we had to go all in. I brought the entire Unit with me. This was going to be the fight to end all fights." Hanley looked at Aaron. "The convention was your idea?"
"Ethel provided the inspiration," Aaron said. "I just filled in the details. I knew the only way to expose the traitor was to invite an attack."
"Where is the convention, really? It sure wasn't at Camp Zonta."
"You don't need that information. Did Xavier talk to anybody else?"
"No," Hanley said. "Just me. He was very cautious about everything. I wasn't allowed to mention his name to anybody. I could only refer to him as 'my contact.' I also wasn't supposed to talk much about the Gray Spear Society. He was afraid if the information leaked out, it would eventually come back to you, ma'am." He looked at Ethel.
"He was right to be cautious," she said. "The Society has many good contacts in the FBI. The bureau is sometimes an important resource for our own missions."
"But these contacts don't know who you really are."
"Each believes a different lie. Some are paid. Others think it's their patriotic duty."
"Where does all the money come from?" Hanley said.
"Don't worry about that now. I need to know who else has heard about the Society. Give me names, and don't try to protect your friends. I'll discover the entire truth eventually. It will be much better if we have a calm discussion now instead of an angry one later. I become very irritated when my own people withhold crucial information from me."
Hanley didn't doubt that statement, but he was still reluctant to tell the truth. If felt too much like betrayal.
"Colonel Rosecrans is the only one," he said at last. "He runs the military side of the Unit. I had to confide in him."
Aaron shuffled his papers for a moment before finding the right one. "Colonel Arnold Rosecrans, age fifty," he read. "A very impressive military record."
"He's a great man and a great friend," Hanley said. "A true American hero. You can't kill him, ma'am."
Ethel raised her eyebrows. "Never tell me what I can't do. However, because you've been helpful, I'll give you one chance to save him. Talk to your great friend. Convince him to quietly retire and forget we exist. We'll even arrange a very generous pension for him. Do you think you can do that?"
"I'll certainly try, ma'am."
"You'll have to succeed if you want him to live. This is a big favor from me. According to
the rules, this colonel should already be dead."
"I understand, ma'am." Hanley nodded. He was actually grateful to her.
"And don't be surprised if this ends badly," she added.
"I'll take my chances."
Her expression showed surprising sadness. "Aaron, you have a new piece in this game. What are you going to do with him?"
Aaron crossed his arms and stared. Hanley felt small under that intense scrutiny. He had completely lost control of his own life.
"Xavier will probably call you tomorrow," Aaron said at last. "Behave normally. As far as he knows, you're still his ally. If possible, get him to confide in you, but don't be obvious about it. He's smarter than you and much more experienced. If you try to get clever, he'll see right through you."
"OK."
"And address me as sir. I outrank you."
"Yes, sir," Hanley said.
"Until this business is settled, you'll continue your duties as chief of the Special Missions Unit. Send your men home. Get them out of harm's way as quickly as possible."
"Yes, sir."
"Try to maintain contact with Xavier," Aaron said. "We'll be closely monitoring all your communications, of course. We'll know where you are at all times."
"Why am I pretending, sir? Why don't you just kill Xavier now?"
"There may be other traitors. We have to watch him a while longer to be sure he's working alone. In the meantime, it's essential that he doesn't know anything has changed. We don't want him to run."
Hanley understood. He was very familiar with the rules of the spy game.
"Ideally," Aaron said, "you'll be back in your office in Washington by Monday. Take that opportunity to start getting your affairs in order. After Xavier is finally dead, you'll die, too."
"What?" Hanley's eyes opened wide.
"It will be a fake but convincing death. The Race Hanley identity must be destroyed to protect your family and yourself. You have to cut all ties to your current life. We don't want our loved ones to be used against us by an enemy."
"But what about my wife, sir?"
"She'll receive a shockingly large death benefit," Aaron said. "Don't worry about her. The Society watches out for those we leave behind. After your untimely passing, you'll be permanently assigned to a cell. Then you'll begin your new life as a Spear."
