by Alex Siegel
"I'm certainly not bringing outsiders into my headquarters."
"Then we're at an impasse. Why don't you just interrogate them the normal way?"
"Because it sounds like they're on drugs or brainwashed," Marina said. "The usual interrogation techniques might not work. Wesley can get to the truth no matter what was done to them."
"You're just being lazy," Charles said.
"That's not true, and Wesley gave us the mission. He should help."
She stared at him. Years ago, when he had been the legatus legionis, he had scared the hell out of her. He had been a mythical figure who had travelled across the continent, destroying anybody who had opposed his will. His power had seemed limitless.
Times had changed. His scope of authority was now limited to Wesley and the protection team. Charles' lined face and silver hair revealed a man whose best years were firmly behind him. Now that Marina had penetrated his invisibility trick, he didn't even have that advantage over her. She could probably beat him in a fight.
Most importantly, San Francisco was her territory. She was the commander here, and he was just a guest. He didn't even have the final say over his own team. The Voice of Truth was the ultimate authority.
"No," Charles said. "I forbid it."
Marina raised her eyebrows. "Let's ask him. Where is he?"
His shoulders sagged with defeat. "Taking a nap in your bedroom."
"On my bed?" she said in a startled voice.
"You don't have a guest room, and the kid was tired. Speaking of which, we need to work out sleeping arrangements for everybody."
"Not now."
She went into her private quarters and found Wesley sleeping under her thick, gray comforter. With his flawless pink skin and perfect little face, he was an impossibly good-looking child.
"Wesley," Marina said softly. "Wake up."
The boy opened his eyes. "What?"
"We need to interrogate the two witnesses from the news. Do you want to help?"
"Sure, but let me sleep a little longer."
"No problem," she said. "I'll wake you up when we're ready to go."
She stepped out of the room and gently closed the door. She turned to Charles.
His expression looked like he had just bitten into a lemon. "You win." He sighed. "But we don't have to be stupid about this. Let's pick a very safe, isolated location for the interrogation."
"That's fair." She nodded.
Marina walked over to Min Ho. Both hackers were working late, but with legionnaires in the field and a mission in full swing, there wasn't much choice. Having immediate access to technical expertise was critical. At least one of them would have to stay up all night if necessary.
"We need a very safe location for an interrogation," Marina said.
Min Ho looked up at her. "You seem to like using the mountains for that sort of thing, ma'am."
"That's rugged land, difficult to traverse at night and difficult to secure. I'd prefer something more convenient."
He brought up satellite images on his computer. She had spent enough time in the Bay Area to recognize what he was looking at. The San Francisco Bay was huge, over a thousand square miles depending on how you counted it. The population occupied the band of relatively flat land between the Bay and the surrounding mountains. The largest cities were at the south end.
"The Crystal Springs Reservoir has some nice beaches," Min Ho said, "and nobody will be there at this time of night. It's right off Interstate 280. Convenient, private, and secure."
Marina studied the satellite photo. The reservoir was a long, skinny body of water between the City of San Mateo and the Santa Cruz Mountains to the west. It was right on the edge of civilization. If there was a serious problem, they could escape by hiking into the forested hills or by driving into the dense city nearby. A boat would provide a third viable escape route. The location was enticingly convenient.
She nodded. "Good. We'll do it right there." She pointed at the northern tip of the reservoir.
Charles leaned in to study the location. "I'll get my people ready. We'll wear full battle gear and night vision goggles, of course. For the record, I think this is a bad idea."
"Noted."
* * *
Katie was watching the brown house through a pair of binoculars. The windows were dark, and she assumed the witnesses had gone to sleep.
Ipo was sitting on a chair beside her with headphones over his ears. He appeared bored.
"Anything?" she asked him.
"Just snoring," he said.
She yawned. It was 1 AM, and she was beginning to wonder if she would stay up all night. This mission was her third since joining the Society, and sleep deprivation had been a problem the previous two times. She expected more of the same. Apparently, God didn't like His warriors to be well rested.
Ipo's phone rang.
He yanked off his headphones and answered it. "Hello? Yes, ma'am. Really? OK. We'll see you there." He hung up.
"What?" Katie said.
"We're supposed to grab the witnesses and take them to an interrogation. It will be on the shore of the reservoir by San Mateo."
She nodded. "Good. Finally, we're doing something."
"The boss also told me to strip them naked and give them a cavity search. We have to make sure they're not bugged and nobody is following us. Wesley will be asking the questions."
"OK." Katie pursed her lips. "I'll do the woman, obviously. Do you want to use the anesthetic foam?"
Ipo furrowed his brow. "A light dose, just enough to make them groggy and quiet. We want them to be awake by the time we get to San Mateo."
They went outside and looked at the brown house across the street. There was a major highway behind the house, and even though it was late, the sound of traffic was continuous. The whooshing noise reminded Katie of the ocean waves, but otherwise, it was a quiet, still night.
The stolen green Chevy was parked in the driveway. After checking for witnesses, Ipo opened the trunk and dug through duffle bags full of supplies. He gave a gas mask with integrated night vision goggles to Katie, and he kept another mask for himself. He also found a can of foam, coils of rope, and disposable latex gloves.
He gave her the car keys. "Move the car across the street. Leave the doors open and the engine running. Enter the house through the front. I'll get the back."
After looking around again, he ran across the street. He was using his gift, and he bounced like his legs were made of rubber. He reached the brown house, slipped into the shadows, and vanished from sight.
Katie sighed with envy. She wanted a gift.
She drove the green car across the street and parked in the driveway with the front facing out. She left the engine running and all the doors open, but the headlights were off.
She slipped the gasmask over her head, and it felt like a heavy rubber bag. Her face started to itch almost immediately, but she ignored the sensation. She turned on the night vision goggles. They weren't as good as daylight, but she could see into the deepest shadows clearly enough.
Katie went to the front door and began to pick it. Six months of training had given her decent skills, and the door was open three minutes later. Marina could've done better, but Katie was still proud of her effort.
She entered the house with her gun drawn, and the only sound was the highway noise. She didn't see any threats. When she stepped on a loose floorboard, it squeaked, and she grimaced with embarrassment. Legionnaires were supposed to be silent.
The house was small, so finding the witnesses just took a moment. They were sleeping in the only bedroom. Ipo was already standing on the man's side of the bed, and Katie went to the woman's side.
Ipo squirted the man and the woman in the face with puffs of sticky, white foam. They sputtered for a moment before settling down again. They moaned and blinked slowly as they struggled unsuccessfully to overcome the anesthetic.
"Search them," Ipo said. He tossed a pair of latex gloves to Katie.
&nb
sp; She snapped on the gloves and threw off the blankets. The woman was wearing a nightgown, and Katie sliced it off her body with a knife.
The woman feebly resisted as Katie probed her mouth and vagina for foreign bodies. Katie also looked for fresh scars but saw none. It was possible a tracking device had been surgically implanted. Katie rolled the woman over and checked her anus. The process was a little bit disgusting, but Katie handled it like a professional. She absolutely didn't want to be the one who screwed up and endangered Wesley.
"She's clean," she announced. The mask muffled her voice.
"Same here," Ipo said. "There isn't even a tattoo."
He tied the wrists and ankles of both witnesses, and he made sure the knots were tight.
"Watch the street," he said.
Katie ran back outside. She pulled off her mask and stood at the end of the driveway, but no cars were coming.
A moment later, Ipo came out of the house carrying the male witness without much apparent effort. She signaled it was safe. He dumped the man on the back seat of the car and returned to the house.
Katie tapped her feet impatiently. This part of the operation was actually the most risky. If a nosy neighbor called the police, they would have an annoying issue to deal with.
Ipo came out with the woman. He was incredibly strong and needed only one arm to secure her on his shoulder. He tossed her into the back with her husband.
"You drive," Ipo said. "I'll keep an eye on them."
Katie nodded and sat in the driver's seat. When the doors were closed, she quietly drove away.
* * *
A voice on a loudspeaker woke Vulture from a deep sleep. "Sir! You're needed in the command center."
He grumbled softly as he turned on the light and got out of bed. The master cabin of the Fearless Star had knot-free wood paneling on the walls and the ceiling. Alternative types of wood had been placed in a repeating fishbone pattern. A brass astrolabe, a quadrant, and other traditional instruments of a seaman were in glass cases on the walls. Vulture expected they were authentic antiques, but he didn't know because they weren't his.
He found a white bathrobe and shrugged it on. He shuffled out of the cabin, down a long corridor, and into the command center. He hated being woken up.
"What?" he said with a snarl.
A console operator in a red uniform faced him. "Our tracking indicates the witnesses are moving, sir. They're not responding to calls. There was nothing on the police channels."
Vulture raised his eyebrows. This development wasn't a great surprise, but it was happening quicker than he expected. It was more evidence that the Gray Spear Society was involved.
"The tracking is working?" Vulture said.
"Perfectly, sir," the console operator responded.
Vulture nodded. The enemy wasn't infallible after all. "What top-tier assets are available?"
"Twelve SAS teams are deployed."
"Forty-eight men." Vulture frowned. "It doesn't seem like a lot, but I guess it will have to do. Send them all. Tell them to follow at a safe distance until the witnesses stop moving. We'll plan our attack once we know where it will happen."
He allowed himself to feel some optimism. The operation might achieve early success after all. Killing a few members of the Society was always worth the trouble.
* * *
Hanley was driving the car down Interstate 280. It was a wide, smooth highway with gentle curves, and during the day, the views were spectacular. At night, he could just see the dark hills on the right. Light pollution from the city and a little mist in the air made it impossible to see any stars.
He checked the rearview mirror. Wesley's gray bus was following with Wesley and his protection team onboard. Hanley was still getting used to their company. In an organization of elite killers, that team operated at its own level. They were the feared among the feared.
Yang was sitting on the passenger side, and Marina was in the back seat. Hanley glanced at the new recruit and saw plenty of anxiety. He had no idea what was going on except that it was very dangerous.
"Hey," Hanley said in a friendly manner, "do you have any more questions? This might be a good time to ask them."
"Sure," Yang said. "I'm curious about you, actually."
"I was a Navy Seal for five years. After that, I was the chief of the FBI Special Missions Unit. That was an elite anti-terrorist squadron."
"Wow."
"I joined the Society in an ass-backwards way," Hanley said. "The commander of the cell in Houston was a man named Xavier. He recruited me under false pretenses to strike against the Society. The commander of Chicago was given the job of tracking down the traitor. His name is Aaron, and he happens to be Marina's boyfriend."
Yang drew back. "She has a boyfriend?"
Hanley glanced at Marina in the back of the car. "Yes. He's a very impressive man. He caught me using a clever trap and turned me into a double-agent. I helped catch Xavier and joined the Society at the same time."
"There are a few additional details worth mentioning," Marina said. "Hanley and his Special Missions Unit destroyed the previous San Francisco cell. Five members were killed, and the rest were imprisoned."
"I thought they were terrorists."
"True, but there might still be some hard feelings floating around. Ipo and Katie are two of the survivors from the previous administration. It's tough to work with the man who killed your boss and your friends."
Yang looked at Hanley.
"It was a mistake," Hanley said apologetically.
"What's your background, ma'am?" Yang said.
"I've been in the Society for eleven years," Marina said. "Before that, I worked for the CIA. I operated in Eastern Europe."
"A real spy?"
"Yes, but it wasn't as glamorous as you might think. I traded sex for information. I was the CIA's prize whore, and I had to sleep with a lot of very unpleasant men. But I did get to have some fun once in a while. There are plenty of unmarked graves in Hungary that were dug because of me. How many people have you killed?"
"Ten confirmed kills while I was in the Corps, ma'am," Yang said proudly. "I guess your number is bigger."
"I lost count after a thousand."
There was silence in the car for a long moment. Yang had a distant expression.
"We are God's chosen warriors," Marina said, "and He chose us because we're good at destroying His enemies. It's not always a nice job. We commit atrocities in His name."
"But God is supposed to be good."
"The Lord created good and evil, and we try not to pick sides. Our mission is simply to keep His enemies out of the mix. In this case, Wesley's mysterious girl is part of God's plan, and therefore, we must protect her. It has nothing to do with saving her innocent, young life. I've killed children in the past when the mission demanded it. I'm not squeamish."
"How do you know all that is true?" Yang said.
"Because He talks to us. I've felt the Lord's presence countless times, and He's spoken to me directly on a number of occasions."
"A lot of crazy people make that claim."
"How many of those crazy people have venomous fingernails?" Marina said. "You've seen a little of what we can do. Tell me miracles are impossible."
Yang furrowed his brow.
"God talked to me, too," Hanley said. "I'm as cynical as they come, and there is no doubt in my mind about what happened. I even have proof."
He showed his right palm to Yang. A red circle of raised flesh in the center of Hanley's palm was about two inches across.
"Is that a burn?" Yang said.
"No. It's a gift. My palms are a second set of ears which are far more sensitive and precise than my normal human ears. I can hear a mosquito from the other end of a football field. I can even hear echoes which allow me to fight in the dark. If God didn't do this to me, who did?"
Yang looked out the window. "This is impossible."
"That's what normal people think," Hanley said.
H
e exited the highway and drove along a narrow frontage road. A minute later, he turned left and entered a golf course. The roads here weren't well marked, and he was depending on a navigation system for guidance. There were no street lights at all.
He looked at the fairways on either side of the narrow road. "Do you know how to play golf, ma'am?"
"Not really," Marina said.
The road turned back and forth as it descended. The golf course gave way to native forest, and Hanley slowed down to avoid hitting a tree. He was close to a dense urban area, but it sure didn't look like it.
Eventually, the car's headlights reflected off of water. Hanley saw the grassy shore of the Crystal Springs Reservoir. The waters looked like black ink, and he couldn't see the far side. He parked on a relatively flat patch of dirt.
"We're here," Hanley announced.
He got out. The night air was cool, but his advanced body armor and the sweat suit underneath were keeping him warm. The armor had a black and gray, striped camouflage pattern, and the fabric was a woven mat of thick fibers. Triangular ceramic plates covered critical areas. Marina was wearing the same armor, and both of them were heavily armed. The precautions seemed excessive to Hanley, but apparently, when Wesley was involved, it was impossible to be too paranoid.
Yang hadn't found a suit in his size, so he was wearing standard Kevlar armor instead. The camouflage pattern was the same though, and he also had more weapons than any ordinary soldier would ever carry. His primary gun was a Heckler & Koch HK 417 battle rifle, a weapon so new most armies were still just evaluating prototypes.
Hanley opened the trunk and pulled out three sets of night vision goggles. He gave one set to Marina and one to Yang.
Wesley's gray bus parked on the grass beside the car, and the giant vehicle's wheels created deep ruts in the soft dirt. The protection team emerged first and immediately spread out to check for threats. They already had goggles on their heads.
Yvonne was wearing advanced body armor, but Atalanta had just a dark gray ninja outfit. Perhaps the Japanese warrior felt her hardened skin was enough protection. She carried a katana in her right hand and a .45 caliber pistol in her left.
Guthrum was the most oddly dressed. He looked like he was wearing football pads and a helmet except the armor was made of a bluish metal. He also had his gauntlets with spikes over his knuckles. The rest of his tall, skinny body was covered by just a gray sweat suit. His head, arms, and legs had no protection.
