by Siegel, Alex
"You want me to take an eight year old boy into a seedy road house?" He raised his eyebrows.
She shrugged. "He's probably seen worse."
He gritted his teeth. The confrontation with Godzilla might turn into a brawl. Then Aaron could have bouncers, bartenders, and even drunk customers coming from all directions. He didn't feel comfortable facing that danger alone.
"OK, we'll all go," he said finally. "We might need Wesley's help with the interrogation anyway."
The four of them walked into the bar. The interior was poorly lit and smelled of cheap beer. There was a pool table in back, but Aaron didn't see any balls or pool sticks. He wasn't a fan of country music, and tinny speakers made it sound even worse than usual.
"Hey!" the bartender yelled. "No kids!"
He wore a black T-shirt and a single silver earring. Tattoos of flames decorated the top of his bald head.
Aaron walked over to the bar and flashed his FBI badge. "We're here on business. I need to talk Jeremy Franks."
"Who?"
"A.k.a. Godzilla."
"The boss's real name is Jeremy?" The bartender smiled. "I never knew."
Aaron noticed Wesley had wandered off. Aaron looked around and spotted the boy on the far side of the room. He was talking to a woman in a booth. She wore giant golden earrings and far too much makeup.
"Hold on," Aaron said.
He jogged over to Wesley, and Marina and Yvonne followed.
"What are you doing?" Aaron said.
"Talking to this lady," Wesley replied.
She didn't look like much of a lady to Aaron. A green sweater was stretched tight across her ample breasts, and her pudgy belly was exposed. He crossed his arms and kept quiet. There was no point in arguing with Wesley when he was clearly working.
"Do you have children?" Wesley asked.
"No," the woman replied.
"How are old are they?"
She gave him a funny look. "I told you I don't have children."
He stared at her.
"They were two and four," she said in a softer voice.
"What happened to them?" he said.
"Drowned."
"How?"
"In water," she said.
"You know what I meant."
"It was a bathtub accident."
"An accident? Really?" The blue in his eyes glittered like circular crystals as he gazed at her.
The blood drained from her face. "I drowned them."
"What are you going to do now?"
She slid out of the booth and stood up. "Take a bath." She walked off.
Wesley nodded and watched her go.
Aaron was dumbfounded. "What just happened?" he asked.
"She's going to be with her kids," Wesley said in a casual tone.
"But her kids are dead."
"That's right." Wesley started walking away. "Come on. Let's get back to work."
The group went to the bartender.
"Godzilla," Aaron said. "Where is he?"
"He's in his office," the bartender said. "I'll get him."
"No. We'll go to him. Just show us the way."
Everybody followed the bartender to a back room. Godzilla sat behind a desk with his feet up. He was facing a television with a remote control in hand when Aaron walked in, but the television was off. A DVD case with the title "Boobs in Bikinis" lay on the desk.
Godzilla was a big man in all ways. An oversized head sat atop a broad chest and a substantial gut. He sported a black Mohawk and a bushy mustache. His arms were covered with tattoos of green lizard scales.
"What's going on?" he said.
Aaron showed his badge. "We have some questions." He looked at the bartender. "Get out of here."
"Boss?" the bartender said.
"Go on," Godzilla said. "I can handle this."
The bartender nodded and left.
Aaron took out a picture of Dmitry Pavlova taken from his old police file. "We want to know about this man."
Godzilla examined the pictures. "I never met him."
"Liar," Wesley said.
"Who is this kid?"
"Forget the boy," Aaron said. "You and the man in the picture were in business together in Granite City. You knew him as Nikolai Serafimovich."
Godzilla crossed his arms. "Are you going to arrest me?"
"I just want information."
"Do you have a search warrant? A subpoena? Any kind of papers?"
Aaron sighed. "I'm not looking for trouble. Just tell me about your old partner, and we'll be on our way."
"I don't talk to badges," Godzilla said.
He used his remote to turn on the television. The video showed young women with enormous, jiggling breasts. Tiny bikinis were stretched to the limit.
"Let me handle this," Yvonne said, "my way."
Aaron stared at her in horror. "Again? You did it 'your way' yesterday. Your muscles still look swollen."
"It will be quick, and we'll get the information we need."
Aaron looked at Godzilla. The man was a thug and a creep but those qualities didn't merit a horrible death.
"The boy needs my protection," Yvonne added. "I have to be strong."
"I don't like this idea," Aaron said.
"What's your suggestion? Take this asshole out back and beat the crap out of him until he talks?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Godzilla said. "Nobody will beat the crap out of me. I could take all of you."
Yvonne hopped onto the desk and kicked him in the face. He fell back, crashing into the wall. When he raised his head, blood was trickling from a broken nose.
"Shut up," she said.
Marina hurried out of the office.
Godzilla scrambled to open a desk drawer. Yvonne jumped down, landing on his arm with both her heels. He grunted. She took a revolver from the drawer and tossed it across the room.
"You see?" she said to Aaron. "This is what happens when we don't take care of business."
Godzilla tried to grab her leg. She punched him across the face with enough force to twist his head around. He collapsed onto the floor.
"Do I have permission to do my job now?" she said.
Aaron leaned over Godzilla and spoke into his ear. "You're sure you won't talk?"
"Yeah," Godzilla mumbled.
"God help you."
Yvonne nodded towards the door. "You can step out if you want. I don't need an audience."
"Try to keep it quiet." Aaron left the office and closed the door.
Wesley stayed behind. Apparently, the boy wanted to help with the interrogation. Fine by me, Aaron thought.
He found Marina standing in the hallway.
"This has to end," she whispered urgently. "Dmitry isn't worth all this bloodshed."
"I won't stop looking for him. I can't ignore what he did to you. And let's not forget your murdered parents. I expect he was part of that, too."
She grabbed his arm. "Listen. I'm so angry I can barely speak his name, and I'll have those feelings for the rest of my life. I'm only now beginning to understand the damage he did to me. But I made a decision. I won't let the rage control me anymore. I want you to do the same."
Aaron heard a loud thump from inside the office.
"Are you OK?" he called.
"I'm fine," Yvonne said calmly.
He turned his attention back to Marina. "What are you going to do when you actually meet Dmitry face to face? Will you stay in control?"
"Yes," Marina said. "Even then."
"I don't believe that for a second." He shook his head.
She furrowed her brow. "You'll see. I'm a changed woman now."
He heard a gurgling noise, followed by a moan of agony. Then something snapped. There was a sharp cry, abruptly cut short.
Marina grunted. "And I'm starting to have a big problem with Yvonne."
"I'm not happy, either," Aaron said, "but you heard her. She has to stay strong."
"In the old days she had a system. When she
needed to feed, she hunted people who deserved to die. Serial killers, child molesters, and drug lords. The new Yvonne isn't nearly as selective. You're the commander here. You should talk to her about that."
He nodded and sighed. "OK. We'll have that discussion at the next convenient opportunity."
"I wish we could call Edward." She sniffed. "He'd find Dmitry for us."
"The legate's orders were specific. No contact."
A few minutes later, Aaron smelled rotting fish, a sure sign Yvonne was done. She and Wesley came out of the office. All her muscles had swelled even more than before. Her face was so flushed he could see the blood vessels pulsing under her skin. Her blonde hair had grown a couple of inches.
"Let's get out of here," she said urgently.
At a brisk walk everybody left the bar and returned to the van. They were still using the plain, white van they had rented at the start of the trip. It was serviceable transportation with plenty of storage, but it was time to change vehicles. Aaron couldn't be too careful.
Once they were back on the highway, he said, "Yvonne, did Godzilla tell you anything?"
"Yes," Yvonne said, "He and Nikolai started Godzilla's Road House together. They were business partners for a year until they had a falling out over a woman. Both men were interested in the same waitress. Godzilla beat up Dmitry and sent him away. Ironically, the waitress left with Dmitry. She is the next link in the chain."
"Did you get her name?"
"Ruby Calvino. Brunette with very large breasts, according to Godzilla."
Wesley gave a piece of paper to Aaron. "I wrote everything down so we wouldn't forget."
Aaron glanced at the paper while driving. "Good work. Anything else?"
"That's all," Yvonne said.
"Then it's time to have that discussion," Marina said. "You promised."
Aaron glanced at her. "Right now?"
"Discussion?" Yvonne said.
"She is upset about your methods," he said. "She wants to dial back the violence."
She snorted. "Marina is squeamish? Unbelievable. She once rammed a broken broom handle up a man's ass and let him bleed to death from the inside."
"I'm not squeamish!" Marina yelled. "I'm just trying to be normal for once."
"Sorry, but the 'normal' train left your station a long time ago. I understand you had a traumatic childhood and your uncle was a horrible man. It's very tragic. But your incredible talent for causing mayhem is instinctive. You were born to kill, just like the rest of us. I bet you came out of the womb biting and scratching."
"Not true. I was fine until my parents died."
"Really?" Yvonne said. "You were just a sweet little girl? No trouble at all?"
"Well..."
Aaron used the rear view mirror to look at Marina. She was staring out the window.
"God marked you as a Spear from birth," Yvonne said.
Marina remained quiet.
"There is something else," Wesley said. "You haven't told us everything."
Aaron waited for Marina to answer. He wasn't eager to hear yet another revelation about the woman he loved. He was upset enough already.
They were driving west towards St. Louis for no reason other than that was the direction of the hotel. Bright sunlight illuminated a wide open highway. Scattered clouds dotted the sky. It was a good day to be on the road.
"My parents left Russia for a reason," Marina said at last. "They were protecting me."
"From who?" Wesley said.
"The police. I was very young, about as old as you. There was an... incident. I was suddenly in a lot of trouble. My parents had to flee to keep me out of juvenile prison."
Aaron shook his sadly. He didn't want to hear the rest.
"What incident?" Wesley said.
"We lived in a small apartment," Marina said. "Another family lived next door. I played with those children almost every day. The father was mean drunk. Some nights he came home late and beat his entire family. I heard the screaming through the thin walls. My parents told me to ignore it, but I couldn't. I had to do something. One day when I was visiting, I put rat poison in the bastard's vodka."
"Jeez," Aaron muttered.
"A couple of days later the father died of internal bleeding. My parents noticed I was acting strangely, and I confessed to them. We left that night." She took a deep breath. "I was too young to really understand the consequences of my actions. I used poison just because it seemed obvious. Every apartment had a box of the stuff under the sink."
"You have no reason to feel guilty," Wesley said. "You were protecting the weak and the innocent."
"I guess so." Marina clucked her tongue. "I just wish I had followed my parents' advice and minded my own business. I'd probably be a lot happier now."
"Destiny pulled you down a certain path. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. I feel that pull every day."
Aaron checked the rear view mirror. She was staring into space with a sullen expression.
"I'm curious," she said. "How many people have you killed?"
"Twelve," Wesley replied calmly.
"But you're just a little kid!"
"My parents taught me to protect myself."
Aaron realized this entire conversation was crazy. He was in a car full of people who talked about murder the way ordinary people talked about getting a haircut. Just another day in the Gray Spear Society, he thought.
"Which brings us back to the original topic," he said. "Yvonne, we have to discuss your eating habits. I agree with Marina. You need to choose your victims a lot more carefully."
"I've been in the Society a lot longer than you," Yvonne said. "I don't think you should tell me how to act."
"I'm leading this mission. I'll tell you anything I damn well please. I also have to point out you weren't sane until very recently, and you haven't fully recovered."
Aaron checked the mirror. Her bright pink face was her normal color these days, so he couldn't tell whether she was angry.
"Wesley," she said, "what's your opinion?"
Aaron didn't like that she was ignoring him and turning to the boy. It was rude.
"Why did God give you your special abilities?" Wesley said.
She paused. "To fight His enemies."
"Was Godzilla one of His enemies?"
"No, but I have to stay strong so I can protect you. I have to eat."
"Yes," he said, "but Godzilla wasn't a good choice. There are other people who deserve to be eaten."
"You want to pick my victims for me?" she said in a sarcastic tone. "An eight year old will tell me who I can kill?"
"I need to."
Aaron smiled. Yvonne wasn't expecting that, he thought.
"There is something else," Marina said. "I think we should stop searching for Dmitry. Too many people are dying. This whole thing is getting ridiculous."
Wesley shook his head. "We can't stop. We've really been looking for him since we left Chicago. Our journey will end only when we find him."
"How can you say that? Can you see the future?"
"No, but the path is bright and clear. And there is a man I have to meet."
"Dmitry?" Aaron said.
"No, no. Somebody much more important, but I don't know his name yet."
"Sure," Aaron said. "I vote we take a break from all this drama. Let's forget about Marina's uncle for a day or two and try to enjoy our vacation. We really need to relax some. Any objections?"
Nobody spoke. He nodded.
Chapter Twenty
Norbert studied the naked prisoner. Straps held Edward to a wooden board and wires were taped all over his body. Every few seconds he twitched as a machine delivered an electric shock to a random location. A hood covered his face.
"I need to speak to him," Norbert said.
"Of course you can," Ishii replied, "but he may not be completely responsive. He is still resisting treatment."
"It's been four days."
"He's a remarkable case. I've made progress, tho
ugh. There is a good chance he'll answer your questions."
The doctor wore a white lab coat with a few yellow stains. He had bags under his eyes, and his spiky, black hair needed a good combing.
"Then let's try," Norbert said.
They went into the hyperbaric chamber. Ishii turned off the shock machine and removed the hood from Edward's head. The prisoner squinted.
"Hello, Edward. I'm Brother Norbert. I have some questions."
Edward rolled his head. The expression on his face spoke of suffering and exhaustion far beyond the limits of human endurance. He had no strength left.
"We're planning to fight your people tonight at midnight," Norbert said. "I want to know what to expect."
"Expect to die," Edward muttered.
"Your attitude still needs improvement."
Edward just stared.
"Do you worship the Devil?"
"No," Edward said.
"What about the rest of your gang? Do they have satanic rituals? Do they perform blood sacrifices?"
"Never."
Norbert looked at Ishii.
The doctor shrugged. "I'm still working with him."
Norbert turned his attention back to the prisoner. "Tell me more about your comrades. I've studied the pictures. Who is the tall Asian woman?"
"Atalanta," Edward said. "Extremely dangerous."
"How?"
"Skin as tough as steel. Supreme martial artist. Warrior of God."
"She has nothing to do with God!" Norbert yelled. "Your people live underground like moles. Your hands are soaked with the blood of your victims. That is not how men of the Lord act. Do you see the contradiction?"
Edward just blinked slowly.
Norbert grunted in frustration. "Back to the original question. I need to know what tactics to expect tonight. How will your people attack us?"
"Like monsters in the shadows."
"That's not very helpful. At least tell me how many enemies we'll face."
"Ethel," Edward replied in a sleepy voice. "Atalanta. Smythe. The legate."
"Just four?" Norbert raised his eyebrows. "There must be more of you in Chicago."
"The rest don't fight."
Norbert relaxed a little. "My side will bring more than a hundred men to this battle. We'll have an overwhelming advantage."
"Doesn't matter," Edward stated flatly. "In the morning you'll be dead." He smiled slightly. "Say hi to Ethel for me. You'll know her when you see her. She's as dark as the night and as fast as lightning. The Lord's wrath is in her eyes."
