Teller of Lies (Gray Spear Society Book 13)

by Alex Siegel

  "How often does he come? Can you call him?"

  Sheila shook her head. "He comes whenever he wants. Can you untie me? My wrists hurt."

  "Sorry, no. You're just a helpless victim?"

  "No! The king loves me!"

  "He told you that?" Marina said.

  Sheila nodded vigorously.

  The crime was worse than rape in Marina's opinion. The victim didn't even know she had been violated. Both her mind and her body had been badly used.

  Marina turned to Katie. "Let's talk to the crew."

  "Yes, ma'am," Katie said.

  They walked off.

  "What about me?" Sheila cried.

  "Stay put," Marina said.

  She and Katie went back up to the main deck.

  Marina walked over to the surviving crewman who had spoken earlier. He had a full head of black hair cut short. A deep tan enhanced his natural good looks. His dark eyebrows formed straight, horizontal lines.

  "Who owns this yacht?" she said.

  The crewman straightened as much as he could with his hands cuffed around a railing. "The King of England, and when he finds out what you did here, he'll have the entire British Army after you!"

  "You're English?"

  "And proud of it."

  "That's funny," Marina said. "You have an American accent."

  He appeared confused.

  "I want to talk to the king. How do I reach him?"

  "Why? So you can attack him? I will never betray my monarch!"

  She sighed with frustration. "I believe you."

  Marina drew a gun and shot both crewmen in the head. Katie used a key to remove the handcuffs from the corpses. She and Marina pushed the bodies into the Bay.

  "Did you find a radio onboard?" Marina said.

  "Yes, ma'am," Katie said, "but I threw the microphone into the water. I didn't want any crew members calling for help."

  Marina frowned.

  "Sorry."

  "No reason to be sorry," Marina said. "It was the right choice at the time, but it's inconvenient now. Let's take a look at the radio anyway."

  Katie took her to a wooden cabin on the main deck. It had no windows and was built like a simple shed with a low roof. Marina went inside and found it crowded with nautical equipment. There were neatly folded sails, ropes, chains, tools, winches, spare wood, and contraptions she didn't recognize.

  Electronic devices were stashed in a shelf in the corner as if they were an embarrassment. She investigated one that had a speaker and a volume knob like a radio, but the other controls were unfamiliar. Fortunately, a little green light indicated the "link" was established, so she probably didn't have to mess with them.

  "Must be another satellite radio," Marina said, "but I didn't see a dish."

  Katie nodded. "It's probably disguised. There is a modern engine hidden down below also. Whoever built this yacht tried hard to make it appear old-fashioned. Maybe so it wouldn't conflict with the lie the crew was told. Everything looks like it came from 1936, and that's not an accident."

  "That's an interesting point." Marina touched the plug where the microphone would connect. "This is a standard connector. Grab the microphone from the radio in the powerboat. Maybe it will work."

  "Yes, ma'am." Katie hurried off.

  Marina looked at the shelves. Two diving masks gave her an idea.

  Katie returned with a microphone, and the connector fit perfectly.

  "It worked. What now, ma'am?"

  "We have to get wet," Marina said.

  Chapter Ten

  Yang parked in front of a green house on 39th Avenue in San Francisco. Like many of the homes in this neighborhood, it shared common walls with the homes on either side, creating a single building the length of the entire block. Having lived in China, he was very familiar with dense, urban environments, but he preferred open spaces.

  A black and white police car was parked in the short driveway. Yang frowned. Marina's instructions had been vague, and he had no idea what to do about the police, but he expected the answer involved violence. It was clear the Gray Spear Society considered itself to be above the law, at least the laws of man. Cold-blooded murder was apparently standard procedure. As a Marine, Yang had participated in some brutal fights, but the Society was at a different level entirely. They made killing seem effortless.

  That fact didn't bother Yang as much as he expected. He had the unshakable feeling that joining the Society had always been in the cards for him. He had spent his whole life training for this moment. The strange rules made perfect sense to him. He even believed his new commander talked to God.

  Yang got out of the car. He decided he would see the girl first, and then decide what to do about the police if necessary.

  He ran over to the door and knocked loudly. He was dressed in civilian clothes, but he had three guns hidden underneath. He had already figured out that legionnaires were supposed to be well-armed at all times.

  A policeman opened the door. Yang looked past him and saw a small living room. Another cop was interviewing a family which included two boys and a girl. The little girl was adorable and blonde, but she didn't seem special in any particular way.

  "Can I help you?" the cop at the door said in a somewhat hostile tone.

  Yang took another look at the girl to be sure. Marina had told him it would be obvious if she was the one, and it wasn't obvious in this case.

  "Uh, no," he said. "I think I have the wrong address. Bye."

  He jogged back to his car.

  * * *

  "Sir," a console operator said, "we just got a batch of pictures from the team we sent to San Francisco."

  Vulture walked over. Photographs of a darling, little girl were arranged in a grid on the operator's display. He knew at once she wasn't the one. The images didn't correspond to the picture in his mind, even accounting for distortion.

  "Wrong girl again, damn it," he said. "Tell the team to go back to the furniture warehouse and await further orders. What took them so long? It seems like they're at least twenty minutes late."

  "They had a minor traffic accident and had to evade the police."

  Vulture raised his eyebrows. "What kind of accident?"

  "Struck by another car, sir," the operator said, "but the damage wasn't enough to prevent the team from completing its assignment."

  "Where?"

  "In Oakland, not far from the warehouse."

  Vulture narrowed his eyes. The circumstances of the accident were very suspicious. The Gray Spear Society could've instigated it so they could get to the girl first. If that hypothesis were true, then the Society was tracking the movements of the SAS. The furniture warehouse could be under surveillance. It was a tenuous conclusion but one that demanded further investigation.

  "Sir!" the communications operator yelled. "An emergency message from the Lover's Roost!"

  Vulture ran over. The yacht where he kept Sheila was the last place he expected trouble.

  "What is it?"

  "It's garbled, sir." The operator pressed his headphones against his ears. "A woman yelling about a fire." He typed on his keyboard. "That's all. We lost the link."

  Vulture snarled. He turned to his nearest bodyguard and said, "We'll go over to the Lover's Roost in two attack boats, ten men in each boat. The first boat will make sure the yacht is secure. I'll observe from the second boat at a safe distance. I want to be on the water ASAP."

  The bodyguard nodded and began talking to his radio.

  Vulture hadn't forgotten his concerns regarding the SAS. Only twelve soldiers were left, but they were still very valuable. He had to know whether he could rely on them. If not, they would have to be destroyed.

  He turned to the communications operator. "Send the following message to the SAS teams...."

  * * *

  Ipo watched Yang park the green SUV in a shadow where it couldn't be seen from Golden Palace Discount Furniture. Yang stepped out and walked over to Ipo.

  Even though Yang had done
nothing wrong, Ipo was still unhappy about him being a member of the team. It wasn't right for a legionnaire to get the job solely based on the word of a kid, even if that kid was the Voice of Truth. Legionnaires were supposed to go through a process of careful evaluation and testing. Backgrounds had to be checked. They needed to prove themselves worthy. Liam was a good example of what happened when crucial steps were skipped. He was dead, and Marina wouldn't make that mistake again.

  "Anything happening here?" Yang said.

  "No."

  "What about Marina?"

  "Still on that yacht with Katie," Ipo said. "They've set a trap, and they're waiting for the enemy to walk into it. You should refer to her as 'boss' or 'commander.' It sounds more respectful. Or you can use her formal title which is decurion. You haven't earned the right to be on a first name basis with her."

  "OK. That's fair. Does she have a boss?"

  "Yes. The legatus legionis of North America, also known as the legate. She's responsible for twenty-two cells spread across the continent."

  "And who does the legate work for?" Yang said.

  "God."

  "How does that work? Do they have meetings? I mean, a lot of people claim they work directly for God."

  "I actually don't know how it works," Ipo said. "I only met the current legate once, and of course, I didn't ask her. One doesn't irritate legates by pestering them with questions. One simply obeys their orders. If they're around, it usually means something very bad has happened... or will happen."

  His phone rang, and the caller ID showed Hanley's code number. Ipo looked towards the red walls of the furniture building. Poor Hanley had been stuck on the roof all day.

  Ipo answered his phone, "Yes?"

  "They're moving out," Hanley said. "All of them."

  "Where are they going?"

  "The orders were to drive east, find an isolated location, and await further instructions. At least, that's what I heard."

  Ipo saw eight soldiers run out of the building and enter two Humvees. The remaining four soldiers were still driving back from San Francisco.

  "We can't wait for you to get off the roof," Ipo said. "Yang and I have to follow them right now."

  "I agree," Hanley said. "I'll stay here in case the others show up. Go."

  Ipo put away his phone and jogged to the green SUV. "You drive," he told Yang.

  They got into the car and drove off. Ipo took a portable tracking signal receiver from his pocket. He turned it on, and the display showed a map of the area.

  "East," he said.

  They soon reached the hills above Oakland. The roads became narrow and much curvier as they wound up steep terrain. There were still plenty of homes at the high elevations, but Ipo expected commuting up and down the hill was a pain. He did appreciate the beautiful setting though. Redwoods dominated because of their size, but there were also maple trees, oak trees, willow trees, many kinds of bushes, and beautiful little flowers.

  Yang followed the Humvees across Highway 13 to an area where the homes were even more widely spaced. Ipo tracked the enemy with the device in his hands, and he made sure Yang stayed well back.

  After making several more turns, the road came to a dead end in the forest. Ipo told Yang to park before making the final turn.

  The two legionnaires stepped out. Ipo inhaled the warm, pine-scented air and smiled. He loved the countryside. It was a better place for men to meet in battle than the sterile surfaces of the city.

  Ipo and Yang walked cautiously down the road, staying in the shadows cast by the many tall trees. Ipo's footsteps were perfectly silent, of course, but Yang didn't do badly for a raw recruit.

  "You move like a warrior," Ipo whispered.

  "I should," Yang whispered, "I served in two armies."

  "Did you have a specialty?"

  "Infiltration."

  "That will be very useful in your new line of work," Ipo said.

  "Speaking of work, how much do we get paid?"

  "Nothing, but the Society takes care of all our needs."

  "Sounds like a communist slogan," Yang said.

  "It does, actually."

  They came around a corner and saw the two black Humvees parked on the side of the narrow road. The vehicles appeared empty. A private driveway led to a small, yellow house buried in the forest.

  "Damn," Ipo said. "Now we have to find them and see what they're up to."

  He put the tracking signal receiver in his pocket. It was tracking the Humvees, not the soldiers.

  Yang looked around. "They could be anywhere."

  "I'll take a quick look from up high."

  Ipo walked up to a very tall redwood tree with impressively thick bark. The lowest branch was about fifty feet off the ground, but it didn't matter. He used his gift to make himself weigh only a hundred pounds, light enough that he could pull himself up by just holding the bark. He ascended the tree like a giant squirrel. The great strength in his muscles wasn't reduced at all, and it was an easy climb.

  He reached a branch and looked out. At this height, other mountains were visible and the view was spectacular, but the dense forest prevented him from seeing anything on the ground. He descended as quickly as he dared.

  "How the fuck did you do that?" Yang said in a tone of wonder.

  "My gift allows me to change my mass," Ipo said. "It was like climbing on the moon. I couldn't see anything, so we'll have to find footprints."

  They walked around the Humvees until they spotted boot prints in the dirt. The soldiers had walked in a single column.

  Ipo drew his gun and followed the trail. It was the middle of the afternoon, so there was still plenty of light, but the shadows were getting longer. He would lose the light if this pursuit took too long.

  He stopped and looked at the trees all around. Perfect place for an ambush, he thought, and the SAS knows how to set an ambush.

  He turned to Yang. "Follow the trail without me. I'll be on your flank."

  "Hold on," Yang said. "You're setting me up as a target to draw the enemy out of hiding."

  "That's exactly right, but one of us has to do it, and I'm much more capable of protecting you than you are of protecting me. I've been trained to do things you've never even seen before."

  Yang frowned.

  "And this is your chance to prove your worthiness," Ipo said.

  After a moment, Yang nodded. "OK. I'll be a target. It won't be the first time."

  "Good man." Ipo patted Yang on the shoulder.

  Ipo dashed into the woods. His gift allowed him to leap over obstacles like a silent gazelle. Speed was his ally. The quicker he moved, the better chance he had of seeing the enemy before they saw him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he monitored Yang's progress. The Chinese warrior glided forward with a gun in his hand. Ipo made big loops around him. Yang kept his eyes forward and never gave away Ipo by looking at him.

  They proceeded deeper into the woods. Ipo heard birds in the branches and the buzz of insects on the ground. His only complaint about the beautiful day was the air was a little too warm.

  He spotted a telltale shadow. A man was waiting behind a tree directly ahead of Yang. It was the ambush Ipo had feared.

  He ran forward, leapt, and kicked the man in the neck. The only sounds were bones breaking and a body hitting the ground. Ipo had snapped the vertebrae of one of the SAS soldiers. The body twitched once before expelling its last breath.

  Ipo continued onwards at a run. His guts felt like they were on fire, and the Lord's strength was flowing through his veins. He was sure he could run through a brick wall or snatch a flying arrow out of the air.

  Yang jumped behind a tree just as automatic gunfire shattered the stillness of the forest. Bullets tore up the ground where he had stood.

  Ipo spotted the shooter sitting on a tree branch. Ipo picked off the man using two quick shots.

  Yang was clutching his arm, and blood was seeping through his fingers, but he didn't look like he had suffered any o
ther wounds. He'll live, Ipo thought.

  He kept running. There were six more enemies in the forest.

  * * *

  Vulture was holding onto a railing with both hands. He was aboard one of two CB90 fast assault boats shooting towards the Lover's Roost. Even though the waters in this part of the Bay were relatively calm, it was a bumpy ride. The attack boat was plowing through the waves in a straight line.

  The CB90 had been designed to carry eighteen amphibious infantrymen and their equipment. Twin water jets could drive the boat at speeds up to forty knots, and its agility was even more impressive. A grenade launcher and twin .50 caliber Browning machine guns provided plenty of punch, but plastic covers concealed the weapons at the moment. Instead of the usual green camouflage paint job, both boats were a generic, civilian white. From a distance, it was hard to tell they were military craft.

  Each boat held ten of Vulture's bodyguards now, so there was plenty of room. The men had some of the best weapons and body armor money could buy.

  The man at the wheel of the CB90 yelled up at Vulture. "Sir! The command center is trying to reach you!"

  Vulture stepped down into the armored cockpit and put his face near the radio. "What is it?" Engine noise made it hard to hear.

  "The two teams we sent into the forest are engaged in a firefight, sir." It was the voice of the operator for the tactical communications console.

  "With who?"

  "Unknown."

  Vulture sighed. He was certain the Gray Spear Society had followed the SAS teams into the forest. The whole point of the exercise was to determine if the soldiers had been compromised, and the answer was now clear.

  "Terminate the rest of the squadron immediately," Vulture said.

  "Sir?" the operator replied.

  "You heard me. Do it now. Out."

  Vulture stepped out of the cockpit, and a blast of cool, moist air caught him in the face, but the refreshing breeze failed to improve his mood.

  I really need those reinforcements, he thought.

  * * *

  Ipo heard multiple explosions. They sounded like large firecrackers going off in the woods.