by Alex Siegel
Todd grimaced as if in pain. "I think you should go. Both of you."
"But we were having a nice conversation."
"Get out of here. You ask too many questions."
"Sorry." Ipo bowed his head slowly.
He left the house, and Katie followed him. They walked out to the street where none of the reporters would overhear.
"I don't quite understand what just happened," Katie said. "If they were working undercover, they did a terrible job preparing. They were just making it up as they went along."
Ipo nodded. "I'd better call Marina."
He put his phone in speaker mode and dialed a number. She leaned in.
"Yes?" Marina said.
"We just talked to the witnesses, ma'am," Ipo said. "They lied to our faces. We definitely need to question them further. I'm starting to think they were brainwashed or drugged. Their reactions weren't normal."
"Just watch them for now. If we snatch them, it will alert the enemy. Let's keep a low profile."
"Yes, ma'am. Where are you?"
"Driving south to the home of El Toro," Marina said. "He's my next appointment."
"That promises to be an interesting meeting. Bye." Ipo hung up. "We need to setup a stakeout."
Katie looked at the small homes on the street. "Maybe we can pay a family to let us borrow their house for the night."
He nodded. "Come on." He headed towards the nearest house across the street.
* * *
Yang was trying to calm himself by watching television in the "living room." It was just a section of headquarters with some nice couches, chairs, and a coffee table. Soft, blue material covered the couches, and he was taking advantage by stretching out. The entertainment system included a stereo and all the popular gaming consoles, but there were only a few games. The giant television was the crown jewel of the system, and he could see the sweat on the players in a basketball game.
Yvonne sat next to him. Ridiculous bulging muscles and flushed skin made her a freak. He could see the arteries pulsing in her face. She had obviously taken massive doses of steroids and perhaps more exotic drugs. It was a terrible shame. He could tell she had once been a beautiful woman instead of a science experiment gone horribly wrong. Her frizzy, blonde hair was still nice.
"You look antsy," she said.
"Is that a surprise?" Yang said. "I just met a bullet-proof woman, a man who can dodge bullets, and an invisible man. How did they get these superpowers?"
"We call them gifts, and they come from God. They help us win His battles. Only the most valiant warriors are chosen for that honor."
He wanted to tell her she was crazy, but he had no better explanation for what he had seen.
"What's your gift?" Yang said.
Yvonne showed him her palms. Wriggling, white tendrils emerged like worms coming out of an apple. He jerked backwards in shock and disgust.
"I suck out the juices of my enemies," she said, "and they make me much stronger."
"Is that how you got your muscles?"
"Yes. I feed off the strength of my foes literally."
He swallowed. "That's horrible."
"I agree, and it leaves a terrible mess behind, but every gift comes with a price. Atalanta paid a very high price for hers. She lost most of her emotions."
Yang still had a suspicion that he was having a nightmare. The impossibilities were piling up.
"Go talk to Jia," Yvonne said. "Maybe she can settle you down. You obviously like each other."
"A beautiful girl like her has probably had many boyfriends. I'm surprised she remembered me at all."
"I saw how she looked at you. She remembered you very well. Go on."
"But she's busy," he said.
"She can spare a few minutes for you. The Child of Destiny brought you together, after all. If that isn't God's seal of approval, I don't know what is. Let me put it another way. If you don't talk to the woman of your dreams, I will snap your bones like toothpicks." She raised her eyebrows.
There was no humor in her voice, and he decided not to call her bluff. He got up and walked across headquarters to where Jia was working.
Her workstation was impressive. There were computers under the table and on top, and cables formed a tangle that looked impossible to unravel. Jia was lying on a padded, reclining chair. Movable armrests and trays allowed her to put keyboards and mice exactly where she wanted. She looked like a child in the big chair, especially with her playfully pink lipstick. Her red and gold dress was gorgeous on her slim body.
"Hi," Yang said awkwardly.
She looked up at him and smiled. "Hi! I'm sorry I haven't talked to you much. I'm busy trying to find Wesley's girl."
"How are you doing that?"
"We're tapping all of the police networks in the area and running the data through various kinds of recognition software. Basically, if an officer reports that he found the girl, or if a citizen calls in a report, we'll be notified immediately."
"Cool." He nodded. "You're the smartest person I've ever met."
"Thanks." Her smile brightened. "But I'm not the best hacker in the Society, or even the best female hacker. The twins in Chicago make me and Min Ho look stupid."
"I've never met them so my statement stands." He looked around. "Can we talk privately?"
"Uh, sure." She stood up.
She led him to a closet on the south side of headquarters. When they went inside, he gasped. The closet was packed full of clothes on racks and in shelves. There were men's and women's outfits of every conceivable style, from bathing suits to business attire to wedding gowns. Fake mustaches, beards, scars, and other disguise elements were in shelves above a makeup table.
"What's this?" Yang said.
"Legionnaires work undercover a lot," Jia said. "You need costumes. What did you want to talk about?"
He sighed. "I'm very disturbed. I don't know what's going on, and I keep wondering if I should run away. If you weren't here, I'd be gone already."
"Those feelings are expected. The Gray Spear Society exists outside the natural world, and we do things that are impossible for normal people. You'll get used to it."
"I can't believe you can keep all of this a secret." He frowned.
"It's what God wants. The natural world isn't supposed to know about the war. It wasn't part of the master plan. Oh, crap! That reminds me. I need to delete you."
"Huh?"
"Your identity must be erased for your safety," Jia said. "We'll give you new identities to use when you go out, and you need a special phone."
"Oh."
Yang couldn't stop staring at her beautiful face, and her delicate voice was equally delightful. She was demure and petite but also bold and intelligent. She was the perfect woman for him.
He touched her hand.
"Yang..." She blushed.
"Tell me I'm supposed to be here. I'm not making a mistake."
"You're supposed to be here... with me."
They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment.
"I have to work," Jia said finally.
She brushed past him and left the closet.
Yang decided he would stick around for a while longer.
Chapter Three
"Very nice," Marina said. "And they say crime doesn't pay."
Hanley parked the car in front of a two-story house with orange stucco walls. Spanish tile covered the roof. All the windows had arched tops and old-fashioned wooden shutters. A stone stairway led to a front door made of elaborately carved wood. A separate three-car garage was beside the house.
They stepped out of the car. The sun had set, but the air in San Jose was still warm. Marina could feel the heat coming up from the pavement.
"What do you want me to do, ma'am?" Hanley said.
"Stay sharp. If it looks like the meeting is going south, start shooting."
"But these are civilians."
"Criminals," she said, "and we always have the right to defend ourselves."
&nbs
p; "Yes, ma'am."
They walked up to the front door. A Mexican man in a cheap brown business suit was sitting on a lawn chair beside the door.
"We're here to see El Toro," Marina said.
"There is no man here by that name," the guard replied in a thick accent.
"Just tell him Ms. Couteau is here. I called ahead. He's expecting me."
He furrowed his brow. "I don't know El Toro, but I will check if somebody knows you."
He knocked on the door, and after a moment, another Mexican man opened it from the inside. They exchanged a few words in Spanish, and the second man walked off.
After a few minutes, a big, bald, chubby man came to the door. The only hair on his light brown head was a pencil-thin mustache. Tattoos portraying scenes of violence covered both his arms, and a pair of bull's horns was tattooed on his shiny forehead.
"Ms. Couteau," El Toro said with a distinctly Spanish flair, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you know where I live. I thought it was a secret."
"Few secrets can be kept from me," Marina said. "May we come in?"
"My men will have to pat you down."
"We won't give up our weapons without a fight. You decide what you want to do."
He looked at her for a moment, and then he looked at Hanley.
"I suppose if you wanted to kill me," El Toro said, "I'd already be dead. Come in."
"It's a pleasure meeting with such a wise man," Marina said.
She and Hanley entered the foyer. It was two stories high, and a massive crystal chandelier was hanging from the ceiling. Green marble tiles covered the floor, and they were polished to a mirror finish. A sweeping staircase went up to the second floor. A traditional Spanish religious scene was painted on the plaster ceiling.
"You have a beautiful home," Marina said.
El Toro bowed his head. "Thank you. I presume you came here on business."
"I'm sure you've heard the news reports about the little girl who was abused in the parking lot."
"Yes. Tragic. Of course, I've seen many abused children in my life, and the pretty white ones always get the attention."
"I can't argue with that," she said. "Regardless, I'm very interested in this particular child."
A man in the next room began to curse loudly in Spanish. Marina peeked through the doorway and saw a tall teenager on a couch. He was wearing a dirty white T-shirt and brown slacks. His thick black hair was greasy. The family resemblance to El Toro was obvious.
The teenager was playing a video game on a giant television. He had a headset with a microphone, and he was holding a controller in his hands.
"Mis disculpas," El Toro said. "My son is very loud."
Marina shrugged. "No problem. As I was saying, I want this child. If you deliver her to me safe and sound, I'll be extremely appreciative."
"How appreciative?"
"This is a special situation. I can give you anything you want."
He raised his eyebrows.
The teenager cursed loudly again, and Marina also heard a thud. El Toro blushed.
"A million dollars?" he said tentatively.
"Expand your horizons," she said. "You're talking to Ms. Couteau. Is there something you desperately need but can't buy? Something that is beyond your grasp? A secret wish?"
She heard a huge crash. She looked into the next room and saw the television on the floor, and the screen had shattered. The teenager walked off, stomping his feet angrily.
"My son is a great disappointment," El Toro said softly. "He has taken all the bad things from me and none of the good. He has no honor. He only cares for drugs, whores, and guns. He will be dead soon, I fear. He won't listen to my advice. He is filled with the stubborn pride of youth."
Marina nodded. "I understand. I can save him, but afterwards, he'll be different. He may not like you."
"A son who dislikes his father is better than a dead son."
"It's a deal. Give me the girl, and I will give you a son you can be proud of."
"Can you describe her?" El Toro said.
"Unfortunately, no. What you heard on the news is all I know. I have to go. Thanks."
Marina left, and Hanley followed her outside. They walked quickly towards the car.
"How do you plan to save the son, ma'am?" he said.
"Ten minutes with Wesley will straighten him out permanently."
"Ah. How convenient."
"When the Child of Destiny is involved," Marina said, "everything is part of God's plan."
* * *
Vulture looked across the black waters of San Pablo Bay. Technically, it was a separate body of water from the San Francisco Bay, but he considered it one and the same. A damp, chilly breeze was blowing off the Pacific Ocean. According to legend, Mark Twain had once said, "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." The words weren't actually his, but everybody loved a good lie. Vulture shivered.
He could see the lights of Richmond in the distance. At night, they seemed like fairy lights, and he automatically spun a tale in his head. He imagined a kingdom of fairies that only came out at night. If an intrepid adventurer crossed the water to catch them, he would be killed by their powerful magic. Only a net woven from black widow silk could catch them safely.
"Sir!" a voice announced on a nearby loudspeaker. "You're needed in the command center."
Vulture turned around and looked at the ship named the Fearless Star. The enormous vessel had the general shape of a World War II frigate, but it was actually a private yacht suitable for a sultan. He had heard it displaced 1,600 tons and could reach 25 knots in open water. He hoped he wouldn't have to test the limits of its speed.
He didn't own the Fearless Star. Even though he could afford it, he would never think of buying something so ostentatious. He usually lived the quiet life of a man who did everything possible to avoid the notice of the Gray Spear Society. He was merely borrowing the ship to use as his home base for this operation, and the real owner had no idea what was going on.
Vulture went through a doorway and down a flight of stairs. The interior was covered in lacquered wooden panels with polished silver accents. Tiny lights provided elegant illumination. He passed a couple of his bodyguards, and they nodded respectfully to him. They wore black armor and carried assault rifles.
After passing through a labyrinth of narrow corridors, Vulture arrived at a room that had once been an indoor movie theatre, but he had converted it to a command and control center. Six console operators sat behind state-of-the-art computer systems. Large monitors hanging on the walls showed the most critical information. Every local news channel and law enforcement agency was being monitored continuously.
One of the operators turned to Vulture. "We just got a report, sir," the man said. "The police are investigating a house in Redwood City. The girl could be there."
"Do we have a team in the area?" Vulture said.
"Team 12 is 1.3 kilometers away."
"Send them. Their orders are to secure the location and take pictures of the girl. After I see the pictures, I'll decide whether to bring her in."
"Yes, sir," the operator said. "What if the police get in the way?"
"Tell the team to do whatever is necessary to comply with my orders."
"Yes, sir."
* * *
Katie peered through a pair of binoculars at the brown, single-story house where the "witnesses" lived. Not much was going on. Ipo was sitting on a chair with headphones over his ears. He was listening to bugs he had planted inside the house despite the witnesses being home. He was a big guy, but he could sneak around like a true ninja when necessary.
They were in a house across the street, and all the lights were off. A large cash payment had convinced the owners to spend the night in a hotel.
Katie sighed with boredom. She had been on stakeouts before, and this one was no different. It was a lot of tedious waiting and watching, but when something happened, it would happen fast.
"Hear anything?"
she said.
Ipo shook his head. "They're just watching television. Some end-of-the-world crap involving visions of angels."
"Sounds terrible."
"It is."
"Are angels real?" Katie said.
"I don't know," Ipo said. "I don't think God has ever mentioned them to us."
His phone rang.
He whipped off his headphones and answered it, "Hello? Yes, ma'am. We'll leave immediately." He hung up.
"What's going on?" Katie said.
"The police may have found the girl in Redwood City. We have to check it out. We'll come back if she isn't the one."
She nodded. "Let's go!"
* * *
Vulture paced back and forth anxiously. His footsteps clicked on the hard, metal deck. The chances were against the girl in Redwood City being the one, but it was possible. The operation could end the same day it had officially begun. He wondered what reward the benefactor would bestow upon him. Past Pythagoreans had received astonishing abilities such as the power to walk through walls or create illusions. Vulture wanted to become one of those legendary figures. His ability to lie was very useful, but it lacked showmanship.
"Pictures are coming in now, sir," a console operator said.
Vulture sprinted over and looked at the computer screen. It showed a photograph of a terrified little girl with blonde hair. She had the basic features he was looking for, but he knew immediately she wasn't the one. The benefactor had implanted a permanent memory of the right girl, and that mental image was blurred and twisted, but there was enough detail to tell the difference. The Redwood City girl had a face that was too fat and hair that was too straight.
"It's not her," Vulture said. "Tell the team to pull out and return to their original position."
"Yes, sir," the operator said.
Vulture sighed with disappointment. Time was not his ally.
* * *
Katie looked out the front window as Ipo parked the car in front of a blue and gray apartment building. It was only two stories tall, and it appeared to have just four small apartments.
A police car with flashing red and blue lights was parked at an angle in the driveway. There was also a black Humvee, and it was the original, wide-bodied type used by the military. It even had a snorkel and a heavy-duty grille guard.
