by Alex Siegel
Teller of Lies
By Alex Siegel
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2014 Alex Siegel
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For more information about this book and others in the series, please visit http://www.grayspearsociety.com/
The Gray Spear Society series is a long-running saga. It is recommended that the books be read in a specific order. The current list is:
1. Apocalypse Cult
2. Carnival of Mayhem
3. Psychological Damage
4. Involuntary Control
5. Deadly Weakness
6. The Price of Disrespect
7. Tricks and Traps
8. Politics of Blood
9. Grim Reflections
10. Eyes of the World
11. Antisocial Media
12. Sharp Teeth and Bloody Claws
13. Teller of Lies
14. Faith Defiled (COMING SOON!!!)
Revision 3/29/2014
Chapter One
Vulture looked across the huge table at his fellow Pythagoreans. The table was made of a bright red, crystalline material, and light bouncing off the surface gave the men and women around it a rosy hue. Everybody was also wearing robes the color of fresh blood. Most had hoods draped over their faces, so only their mouths were visible, but a few bold members weren't so cautious. Even though Vulture had met with these people a number of times, the identities of most of them were still a mystery to him.
A total of fifteen Pythagoreans were in attendance, and they represented most of the membership in the Western Hemisphere. It was a very exclusive club. To qualify, one had to be very wealthy, very powerful, and a pure sociopath. The meeting was taking place in a cave in the Rocky Mountains. The location was so secret, even Vulture didn't know the exact address. He had arrived in a bus with blacked out windows.
A man known as Tarantula spoke in a Latin American accent, "Los Rastrojos wants to pay us a hundred million dollars instead of the usual two hundred million. They claim aggressive competition from the Black Eagles is driving up costs and making the business less profitable, particularly in the heroin trade. Also, the DEA arrested a few lieutenants in Los Rastrojos, as I'm sure you know. They feel we should've done a better job of protecting them, and to be honest, they have a good argument."
Everybody looked towards Erika for a response. She was a Hispanic woman of medium height, but she had a light skin tone for her ethnicity. She simply looked well-tanned. Ruby clips held long, wavy, black hair which flowed down to her breasts. Her robes bulged over her pudgy belly.
She was sitting inside a glass enclosure with a triple-filtered air supply. The enclosure wasn't locked, and she could leave at any time, but if she did so, it would effectively disable everybody else in the room. Her body emitted a pheromone that caused men to fall hopelessly in love with her and women to become idiots.
She called herself the "Queen of the Pythagoreans," but the other Pythagoreans rarely referred to her that way. The group was more of a loose confederation than a disciplined unit built on real loyalty. Nobody had absolute authority. They supported each other simply because having powerful friends was better than having powerful enemies, and the Gray Spear Society was enough of an enemy by itself.
Still, Erika was the most influential Pythagorean in the room. She had the most money and connections. Her supernatural ability was the most powerful. She was so confident, she used her real name in these meetings. If she felt strongly about something, the others tended to fall in line.
"We're talking about common drug traffickers and hitmen," Erika said. A speaker carried her voice out of the enclosure. "Squeeze them for every penny. When they go under, another gang will take their place, and we'll squeeze them, too. Those Columbian cartels last about as long as my lovers."
The other Pythagoreans nodded in agreement.
"Los Rastrojos won't pay the full amount unless we remind them why they must," Tarantula said.
Erika turned to a woman who used the name Iris. The exposed lower half of her face was deathly pale.
"You still control that bloodthirsty pagan cult?" Erika said.
Iris nodded. "Yes, I'm their goddess, and they would enjoy a little mindless mayhem in the Columbian jungles, but I'll need compensation for their services."
"Tarantula will get the hundred million currently being offered. Every dollar we collect above that amount will go to you this time."
"That's acceptable." Iris smiled briefly.
Tarantula seemed less happy with the proposal, but after a moment, he said, "Agreed."
A ball of orange light suddenly appeared above the center of the table. It seemed made of ropes of flame which had been tied into knots. The coils pulled and twisted frantically as if in pain.
Vulture felt a sudden coldness in his chest. His heart was struggling to beat properly, and weakness made his limbs feel heavy. Despite his physical unease, he slid off his chair and pressed his forehead against the hard, tile floor.
"You have a task," the benefactor said in a voice that went straight into his brain. "Kill this girl."
An image flashed into Vulture's mind. It showed an adorable little girl with blonde hair, and she was between eight and ten years-old. The details were blurred and distorted as if the picture had been taken from a great distance through haze. Probably from outside the universe, Vulture thought. One of the girl's pupils seemed quite a bit larger than the other, but perhaps that effect was just a result of the distortion.
"What is her name, master?" Erika said.
"She will be called the 'Pathokinetic' in the future, but her current name is unknown."
"Where is she?"
"Near this object," the benefactor said.
Another image appeared in Vulture's mind, and he immediately recognized Alcatraz. The walls of the infamous prison were gray-brown. It stood on top of an isolated, rocky island in the middle of the San Francisco Bay.
"Millions of people live in that area, master," Erika said. "It will be very difficult to identify one girl without more information."
"You must. She has an important role in the Great Adversary's plans, and she is closely associated with the Voice of Truth. Whoever kills her will earn a great reward."
"Can you at least give us a test we can use to make sure we found the right girl?"
"She will resist your tricks," the benefactor said. "She will see through your lies. You will know she is the one."
The orange light faded, and the benefactor vanished.
Vulture was shaking as he returned to his seat. He had encountered benefactors before, but the experience was always terrifying. He felt like he got a little older every time. The other Pythagoreans appeared equally rattled, even Erika.
The idea of a "great reward" made Vulture burn with desire. He had earned one for a previous assignment, and it had led to an enormous increase in wealth and power. A benefactor had turned him into the "Teller of Lies." A second reward would take Vulture straight to the top of the Pythagorean pecking order. He might even displace Erika as the presumptive leader.
There was a moment of thoughtful silence, and he seized his opportunity.
"I'll do it," he said confidently.
The other Pythagoreans turned to him. He couldn't see their eyes, but their thoughts were obvious. Nobody wanted him to have such a juicy plum all to himself.
"It seem
s like the person with the best chance of success should have the job," Vulture stated emphatically. "Clearly, that's me. I have extensive contacts and interests in and around San Francisco. I still have control over the remnants of Bill Burch's business empire. My ability to tell lies is perfectly suited to this operation. After we find the girl, I can test her authenticity by simply lying to her. If she isn't fooled, I'll kill her."
"You've had your glory in the past," Erika said. "Let a newer member of the group take this one."
Vulture raised his eyebrows. She's afraid of me usurping her authority if I succeed, he thought. "Is this kindergarten? We give everybody a turn whether they deserve it or not? I don't think so. The Pythagoreans always choose the surest path to success. New members have to earn their shot. That's how it's always been. Are you going to argue that somebody else is more qualified than me?"
She had a bitter expression on her face.
"Of course," he added, "you could simply order somebody else to do it, but what if they fail? Some of the blame will fall on your shoulders. Are you ready to explain to a benefactor that the girl wasn't killed because we take turns now?"
She snarled and looked at the others at the table. She seemed to be waiting for somebody to make a counter-argument. The stakes were enormous, but he was confident she wouldn't do anything stupid. One didn't become Queen of the Pythagoreans by making poor choices.
"Fine," she said at last. "You win. What's your plan?"
Vulture straightened. He hadn't thought that far ahead, but the answer occurred to him immediately.
"Searching for the girl with our own people will take too long," he said. "There's too much ground to cover, and we don't have a good enough description. We need to get the public to do the legwork for us."
Erika furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"
"It will take just a simple lie...."
* * *
"Your table is ready, ma'am," the maître d' said. "Please, follow me."
He led Marina, Katie, Imelda, Jia, and Corrie through the French restaurant. Brown curtains covered the ceiling and walls, creating the impression of being inside a fancy tent. Fine china and real crystal wineglasses were placed on immaculate white tablecloths. The male diners wore jackets, and the women had nice dresses. For San Francisco, a city that prided itself on its casual attitude, it was ridiculously formal attire.
The five women of the San Francisco cell of the Gray Spear Society were taken to a private room in back. Marina was glad to see it was separated from the rest of the restaurant by a solid wall instead of just a curtain. A single chandelier provided subdued, romantic lighting, and a lush bouquet of flowers hung below it. She could tell from the scent that they were fresh.
The ladies took seats around the table.
"The waiter will be with you in a moment," the maître d' said. He left the room and closed the door.
Marina exhaled. "Finally, a little privacy!"
The five of them had spent the day getting pampered in beauty salons and spas. Marina had been washed, buffed, polished, painted, plucked, and steamed to the point where she just wanted to be left alone for a while. She had organized the outing in an attempt to bring the women on her team closer together. She wasn't normally so social, and the whole experience had been a bit of a struggle for her.
"This has been a wonderful day," Jia said in her sweet voice. "Thank you, ma'am."
Marina nodded to her. "My pleasure."
The young, Chinese woman had long, black hair which framed a pretty face. Her smile showed off her perfect, white teeth. Bubblegum pink lipstick, nail polish, and eye shadow were too cute for Marina's taste, and a little butterfly painted on Jia's cheek was just embarrassing. She was wearing a red dress with a golden hem cut in a traditional Chinese style.
"I just wish I had a boyfriend to be beautiful for." She sighed wistfully.
Marina didn't have an easy response. Romance was an awkward topic for members of the Gray Spear Society.
"I've always wondered if there is anything going on between you and Min Ho. You're both great hackers. You're alike in so many ways."
Jia shook her head emphatically. "No way, ma'am! He's a geek."
"But you're a geek, too."
"That doesn't mean I have to date one. I've only been in love once, and it was years ago. I was a teenager." She sighed again.
A waiter entered the room. He was wearing a black vest over a white shirt with a black bowtie. The shirt was so clean it almost glowed.
"Good afternoon, ladies. Welcome to Parfum d'une Fleur. Can I get you started with anything? A little wine, perhaps?" He handed out menus bound in black leather.
Everybody looked to Marina for approval.
She shrugged. "Go ahead. Enjoy yourselves. I'll just stick with iced tea."
The rest of the team ordered glasses of red wine. The waiter nodded and left.
Marina looked at her menu and frowned. The selection included "beef cheeks," "Muscovy duck," and "swordfish loin." She considered herself to be a sophisticated eater, but she was out of her depth this time. She eventually chose jumbo Louisiana prawns mostly because she knew what she was getting.
"I don't think I've ever been in love," Imelda said. "I like guys, but for some reason, I've never met Mr. Right. Plenty of Mr. Very Wrongs though."
She was a tall, Mexican woman with a very thin body. Black hair was braided down her back. Her brown face was bony, but a pleasant smile brightened it. She usually wore no makeup at all, but today, a little purple eye shadow gave her an exotic air. She was wearing a black velvet dress with red ruffles.
"Give it time," Marina said.
"I'm always cooped up in headquarters, ma'am," Imelda said. "At this rate, I'll be old and gray before I finally meet my man. Even if I do, I can't tell him who I really am or what I do."
Marina had no words of comfort. Being a Spear sometimes involved painful sacrifices.
Imelda lowered her voice. "Do you think Ipo...?" She bit her lip.
"It's possible," Marina said.
"He's so big. I mean, I've seen him naked, and he's really... big. I like that." Imelda blushed.
"Just be careful. You've been around long enough to know dating a legionnaire is always a gamble. They tend to have short lives with horrible ends."
Marina glanced at Katie. The only legionnaire in the room had a pensive expression.
She had dark brown, straight hair with lighter highlights. Her olive skin color revealed her Mediterranean heritage. Six months of training had hardened her muscles and had thickened her shoulders, but some feminine softness clung stubbornly to her body. She was a few inches shorter than Marina and several years younger. Katie was wearing a red and blue paisley sundress.
"Is that what you expect with Aaron, ma'am?" Katie said.
"I suppose," Marina said. "I don't see how it can end well. There's no way we can live together. The best we can hope for is an occasional visit until one of us dies." She tried to shake off the feeling of gloom. "Have you ever been in love?"
"Yes. I was even married, but my husband couldn't handle me being a Special Investigations Officer. I guess he always felt a little intimidated, or maybe he was afraid I might arrest him. Either way, he left me for a young waitress with big breasts and no brains."
"You deserved better anyway."
"That's what I keep telling myself," Katie said.
"You and Hanley seem to spend a lot of time together."
"He's a great guy, ma'am, but we're trying to be professional with each other. We're just friends."
"That's good," Marina said.
The waiter returned and took their orders. As he wrote down the exotic dishes, Marina idly wondered what the bill would be. The menu hadn't shown prices for individual items. They were paying a fixed cost for a five-course meal.
When they had privacy again, Marina turned to Corrie and said, "What about you? Do you regret not having a man in your life?"
The scientist was a Native American, b
orn and raised on the Navajo Reservation. She had a round face and a pudgy body despite Marina's encouragement to get more exercise. Corrie just wasn't interested in getting in shape. Her long, black hair was silky and luxurious, but her nicest feature was certainly her winning smile. She was wearing a black and white dress with a repeating eagle pattern. Her necklace mixed turquoise and emeralds, and the colors matched her nail polish.
"Science is my first and only love, ma'am," Corrie said, "but I do regret never having kids. I grew up in a large family, and all my friends were part of large families. It doesn't feel natural to go through life without hearing young voices."
"That's one thing I don't regret," Marina said. "I'd be a terrible mother. I'm a vicious, sadistic, ill-tempered monster. I should be kept very far away from children."
She noted that nobody disputed her.
"I wouldn't mind a few kids," Imelda said. "They'd be fun. Like a construction project that never ends."
Katie shook her head. "Messy, smelly, and loud. None for me, thanks."
Eventually, the food arrived. The conversation continued as they ate, but Marina didn't participate much. Talking about past missions would only darken the mood, and she didn't have much else to say. She was reminded of how duty dominated her life and left room for little else. Being an instrument of God's will and a commander in His army was an all-consuming job.
The culinary adventure went on for two hours and included items like chilled beet borscht and roasted fennel. Marina didn't like all of it, but at least the choices weren't boring. By the end, she felt the team, at least the female part of it, had grown a little closer. The outing had been a success.
It was time to go home. The group finally left the restaurant and emerged into the light of a setting sun.
They were beside a busy avenue in the northwestern corner of San Francisco. This neighborhood was aptly named Nob Hill because of a steep hill in the center. A dense mix of tall commercial buildings and condominiums made Marina feel like she was in a big city even though the population of the City of San Francisco was much less than Chicago. The dignified architecture featured plenty of decorative stonework, and everything was clean.
