by Alex Siegel
"You seem nervous, general," Erika said.
He didn't turn to look at her. He didn't want to see what was happening in her enclosure. The grunting noises were too much information already.
"How many of these people are out there?"
"We don't know the size of the Gray Spear Society. They are a global organization though."
Walker frowned.
"Don't worry," she said. "We're not going to fight all of them at once. We don't have to destroy the entire Society. Our benefactors gave us specific, limited objectives. Our plan should accomplish those objectives very easily, and so far, it's going well."
He wasn't entirely convinced even though the plan included an enormous margin for error. His side would have an absurdly overwhelming advantage in military terms. Acidic saliva and black swords couldn't defeat the United States Army.
"You're right," Walker said. "Actually, I'm glad I saw the enemy in action. It clarified what we're up against. The plan is still solid. There is no reason to think it might fail."
Chapter Twenty-two
Aaron followed Otmar into the barn. Norbert and Tawni were already waiting there. They were holding flashlights which were aimed at a body on the floor. The unconscious man was a little shorter than Otmar but dressed the same.
"Any trouble?" Aaron said.
"No, sir," Tawni said.
"Good." He shoved Otmar's shoulder. "On your knees."
Otmar knelt awkwardly. His wrists were still cuffed behind his back. "What are you going to do to me?"
Aaron used a second pair of handcuffs to bind Otmar's ankles. "That depends on you. We have questions. The quicker you provide the answers, the less pain you'll suffer."
Tawni pointed her flashlight at a collection of hand tools lying on the dirt floor of the barn. There were clamps, chisels, hammers, pliers, knives, and a propane torch. Otmar gasped.
"Wake up the other one," Aaron said.
Norbert used rope to bind the other mercenary's wrists and ankles. Tawni gave him a prepared dosage of stimulant with a needle.
Aaron noticed part of the mercenary's right index finger was missing. The stump looked burned.
"What happened to his hand?" Aaron said.
"It got in the way of my sword," Tawni said.
A moment later, the man on the ground woke up. He groaned. He pulled against the ropes and then squinted into the light from the flashlights.
"Good," Aaron said. "Let's begin. We know you work for Unit K. We also know your commander is a man named Hess. We'll start with the obvious question. Why are you turning Chicago into the land of cannibals?"
Otmar shook his head. "There's only one way to make us talk."
"What?"
"Pay us."
Aaron stared. "You'd betray your own people for money?"
"Of course," Otmar said. "Making money is the only reason we're in Unit K. Besides, I'm not happy with the current management. I'd rather get paid now and walk away with my skin intact. I'm done with Hess."
The mercenary on the ground nodded in agreement.
"But they'll come after you," Aaron said.
"Not for long," Otmar said. "There's no profit in revenge. We'll take our chances."
Aaron was taken aback, but he wasn't ready to dismiss the idea of paying them off. The mercenaries looked like hardened veterans. They wouldn't break quickly under torture. Even Tawni's dark gift might not be enough to pull answers out of them in a short time.
"What's your price?" Aaron said.
"Let me speak to my associate." Otmar scooted over to the other mercenary.
They whispered to each other.
"One standard gold bar for both of us," Otmar said. "We'll share."
Aaron furrowed his brow. "That's a lot."
"It seems fair considering the risks involved."
"There are some difficulties with your proposal. I'd have to drive home to get the gold and then drive back. It's a long trip, and I'm not that patient. Also, I'm not sure how to execute this transaction in a way that guarantees both parties are satisfied. Which comes first? The gold or the information? Torturing you seems simpler, and we're already here." Aaron grabbed a ballpeen hammer off the ground.
Otmar shuffled away on his knees. "We'll trust you! Just show us the gold, and we'll talk."
Aaron smirked. "Does it have to be actual gold? Cash won't do?"
"Large bundles of cash look suspicious to the authorities. Diamonds might be acceptable. They're easy to move."
Otmar looked at the other mercenary and received a nod of agreement.
"OK." Aaron shrugged. "We'll try it your way." He stepped away and called Perry on his phone.
"Sir?" Perry said.
"I need to know where the nearest jewelry store is."
"It's late at night. I'm sure they're all closed."
"That's not a problem," Aaron said. "Just give me the address."
"Yes, sir."
"And I'll be committing burglary, so hack into the alarm company. Make sure the police don't get called."
"I was already planning on that," Perry said.
* * *
Commander Hess looked out the frosted window of his office. The darkness of the night was as impenetrable as the darkness that shrouded his life lately. Every mercenary faced the possibility of becoming a casualty in somebody else's war, and that was fine as long as the pay was right. Life was about balancing risks and rewards. This fight felt different though. The chilling presence of death was a little too close.
He heard the clomping of boots and turned towards his door. Two squad leaders entered. They were still wearing winter camouflage cloaks and snow boots. A trail of muddy footprints went down the hallway behind them.
"We're back, sir," one squad leader said.
Hess raised his eyebrows. "And?"
"We lost two men."
"How?"
"That's not entirely clear, sir," the squad leader said. "One group ran into a sniper, and the other group engaged in a firefight. We didn't actually see who we were fighting though. There was confusion."
"The two men were killed?"
"I don't know. We didn't find any bodies. Our guys just disappeared."
Hess took a deep breath. "The 'creatures of darkness and death' must be out there. Somehow they tracked us down, and now they're taking prisoners. Fuck."
His instincts were telling him to run away, but the Unit hadn't been paid yet. He couldn't just walk away from a job and forget what was owed to him. It was bad for business. It was bad for the profession. Most importantly, it was bad for his health. His men would make him suffer a slow, ugly death if they didn't get their share.
"What are your orders?" the squad leader said.
"Pull back into a defensive formation. We'll occupy just the south side of the factory. Put four guards on every entrance. Concentrate the patrols around that section. We'll sleep in shifts. Let's try to get through this night without losing anybody else."
"What about the woman?"
"To hell with her," Hess said. "If she wants to wander around a big, empty factory, let her. We obviously can't stop her. And turn the phones back on. I need to be able to make calls from the barracks. Let's go. I'm sleeping in the first shift. I can't stay awake any longer."
He and the two squad leaders left the office.
* * *
Sheryl emerged from her closet. The office was empty. She listened for a long moment to make sure, and the silence was absolute.
The phone on the desk drew her like a magnet. She ran over and called Aaron again.
"Hello?" he said tentatively.
"It's Sheryl, sir."
"Are you OK?"
"I'm fine," she said. "I just overheard a conversation. You scared them. They're withdrawing to the south side of the building and setting up a defensive formation. Who are they?"
"A mercenary outfit called Unit K. The commander's name is Hess."
"An unpleasant man."
"You don't becom
e a mercenary leader by being nice," Aaron said.
"I could probably sneak away from the factory now, but it's very cold and dark out there. I'm worried I might freeze to death."
"We're off on an errand. Stay inside where it's warm. We'll be back to rescue you in a little while. If you can do it safely, try to gather some intelligence."
"Yes, sir," Sheryl said.
"One last thing. Don't call me again unless it's a real emergency. This isn't a secure line. Anybody could be listening. Bye." Aaron hung up.
She searched the desk first. The drawers were empty except for a blank notepad and a few pens. It seemed Commander Hess wasn't a fan of paperwork. She checked the rest of the office and had similarly disappointing results.
Her gaze settled on a trail of muddy footprints leading from the hallway. Typical messy males, she thought.
She followed the footprints out.
* * *
"We intercepted another call from the woman, sir!" a technician yelled.
"Play it over the loudspeaker," General Walker ordered.
He listened to a phone call from the woman in the factory who was giving Hess so much trouble. She was obviously speaking to her commander. The conversation only contained a small amount of new information. Hess knew he was in big trouble and was taking belated steps to protect himself. It wouldn't matter. The Gray Spear Society was coming for him. He would be lucky to see the dawn.
"You still can't figure out who she called?" Walker yelled.
"No, sir," the technician replied. "Something is blocking our trace. We can't work around it."
Walker nodded. He wasn't surprised the Society had their claws in the phone system. It seemed there was no limit to their reach.
He looked at Erika and said, "I think we'll soon be done with Unit K."
She was taking a bubble bath in a big, marble bathtub. Her slaves were using their mouths to blow fresh bubbles in the water.
"It's a shame we can't retrieve the gold we paid up front," she said. "That was a substantial sum."
"War is expensive."
"You're telling me. I'm financing a good chunk of this operation. Are you shedding a tear for the redoubtable Mr. Hess?"
"No," he said, "but it might be amusing to warn him. It would make the night more entertaining for us."
"Let's not mess with an operation that's going so perfectly."
Walker nodded.
He turned back to look at the big screens at the front of the command bunker. They showed three different overhead views of a blue van travelling along a snowy, country road. The Society team and two captive mercenaries were inside. A squadron of stealthy aerial reconnaissance drones was watching the van from high in the sky. There was no possibility of losing them.
"Where are they now?" Walker called.
"Approaching Geneva," another technician replied.
* * *
Aaron parked the van in front of James Street Jewelers. The shop was part of a long row of little stores in a semi-rural town west of Chicago. The jewelry store had a green cloth awning which was sagging under a blanket of thick, wet snow. A retractable, iron grate guarded the windows and doors.
Aaron looked back. The two mercenaries were sitting in the middle seat with their hands tied behind their backs. Norbert and Tawni sat in the far back with their guns pointed at the mercenaries' heads.
"I'll break into the store," Aaron said. "Wait for my signal."
"Yes, sir," Norbert said.
Aaron hopped out of the van. He was wearing an overcoat over his body armor in case a civilian saw him. He had taken off his big weapons, but his pistols and knives were concealed under the coat.
The street was slippery with ice. He made his way carefully to the sidewalk which wasn't much better. It looked like somebody had shoveled and salted the sidewalk but had given up partway through the job.
Aaron walked over to the jewelry store and rattled the protective grate. It felt solid. A heavy padlock held it closed. He checked for witnesses. The streets were very quiet tonight, and the only light came from widely spaced street lamps. He spat at the hasp of the lock, and a few seconds later, it fell off. He slid open the grate enough to squeeze by.
A big, red alarm bell was mounted high above the door. He spat at the bolt holding the bell in place. Yellow goo dissolved steel, and the bell dropped into his hands. He set it quietly aside.
The front door was also locked, but another gob of spit unlocked it in a few seconds. He went inside the shop.
A security keypad beside the door started flashing red. Aaron ignored it. Perry had disabled the connection to the alarm company.
The jewelry shop was small. Glass cases held necklaces, rings, and bracelets. Short, steel drawers behind the counter looked more interesting. He went over and tried to open one of the drawers, but it was locked. A little more spit took care of that problem. His mouth was starting to get dry.
The drawer contained rows of loose diamonds, each labeled with size, cut, and clarity. This will work, he thought.
He went to the window and waved at the van. The mercenaries came out first, and Norbert and Tawni were right behind them. Everybody hustled into the shop.
"We didn't agree to stolen diamonds," Otmar said.
"Why do you care?" Aaron said.
"Some diamonds have serial numbers etched into them. If they're stolen, they can only be sold on the black market. We'll be lucky to get half their value."
"Then take twice as many."
Otmar frowned.
Aaron was planning to compensate the owner of the store for damage and losses. This wasn't really theft. Aaron just couldn't wait until morning to conduct this business in a legitimate way.
"You wanted to see diamonds," Aaron said, "and here they are. That was the agreement. After you tell us what you know, you can fill your pockets. Otherwise, we'll find someplace private and do this the hard way. I'm tired of messing around." He pounded his fist into his palm.
The two mercenaries exchanged looks.
"OK," Otmar said. "What do you want to know?"
"What I asked before! Why are you turning Chicago into the land of cannibals?"
"Because we're being paid to do it."
"Why are you being paid?" Aaron said.
Otmar shrugged. "We don't ask those questions."
"You must have some idea. Who's paying you?"
"I don't know. All communication is with the commander."
"Then how do you get paid?" Aaron said.
"Two months ago, a courier delivered three thousand ounces of gold to the Unit. That was the down payment. We'll receive twenty thousand ounces when the job is complete, plus five thousand for every live captive we deliver."
Aaron furrowed his brow. "That's a lot of gold. Where did the bacteria and the bed bugs come from?"
"Our employer provided the biotechnology," Otmar said. "They furnished the factory for us and told us what to do with it. All the logistics were taken care of. Unit K is just labor, and we're getting paid enough to keep our mouths shut."
Aaron pounded on a display case with his fist and cracked the thick glass. He had already suspected Unit K was just hired help, so this conversation wasn't surprising him. It seemed he needed to peel back another layer of this conspiracy to find the hidden truth.
"So you don't know why you're doing it, who you're doing it for, or what the ultimate objective is."
"That's correct," Otmar said. "Our assignment was just to infect as many people as possible. Are we done?"
Aaron was very good at reading body language, and the mercenary wasn't showing any signs that he was lying.
"I suppose. Untie them."
Norbert untied the ropes that bound the mercenaries' wrists.
Aaron waved his hand towards the display cases filled with jewelry. "We're leaving. Take what you want. In ten minutes, I'm sending the police, so don't be too choosy."
"Hey!" Otmar said. "That's not fair."
"Be glad you're still a
live." Aaron looked at Tawni and Norbert and said, "Let's go."
The three Spears hurried out of the shop and back to the van. When everybody was seated, Aaron drove away. He was cursing softly to himself.
"I can't believe you just let them go, sir," Tawni said. "Those guys are scum."
"We're trying to avoid violence."
"But..."
"We'll catch them later if necessary," Aaron said. "The mercenaries aren't the people I'm worried about now. We don't know who our real enemy is."
"We still have to deal with Unit K, sir," Norbert said. "We can't let them continue to sell bed sheets full of death. That has to end tonight, and Sheryl is waiting for us to save her."
"I know!" Aaron barked.
Norbert and Tawni became quiet.
Aaron pulled over to the side of the road. He was too upset to drive.
After stewing for a while, he decided to call Ethel. He was hoping her much greater experience would help.
"Hello?" she said.
"We captured two mercenaries, ma'am," Aaron said. "The conversation with them was uninformative. Somebody else is paying Unit K to spread the cannibal plague, but they have no idea who or why. Unit K is just hired muscle."
She was silent for a moment. "This is awkward," she said finally. "We can't allow this abomination to go on, but we still have no proof that God's enemies are involved. We need more information."
"The only person who might have that information is Hess, the commander of Unit K. I suppose I could just pay him for answers. That's what we did with the mercenaries."
"You bribed them? What happened to them afterwards?"
"I let them go. What else could I do?" Aaron said.
Ethel grunted. "This is a disgusting situation. We've been reduced to paying criminals because we're helpless to do what is right and proper. Meanwhile, Chicago is descending into Hell. Rampant looting has begun in the poorer neighborhoods. Civil order is breaking down completely."
"What are your orders?"
"I have none. I need to think."
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "We'll head back to the bedding factory to keep an eye on things there. Please ask Smythe and Odelia to join us at their earliest convenience. Full armor and weapons."
