Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8)

by Siegel, Alex

  "Do you know who paid for the hit?" Seferis said.

  "Sean Coulter," Ethel said.

  Haley knew that name well. Coulter was a rabid ultra-conservative with enough money to make him dangerous. His anti-liberal diatribes were popular on the internet.

  "Do you have any evidence?" Seferis said. "Can you prove that claim? You could be making up this whole story."

  Ethel pointedly ignored him. She turned to Haley and said, "This assassin isn't the one I came to stop. In the interest of establishing a cooperative relationship, I'll let you decide how you want this matter handled."

  Haley furrowed his brow. "What are my options?"

  "Whatever you want. I should mention he was severely injured during his interrogation. Death might be a kindness."

  He didn't want to know the details. It was becoming clear she lived in a world without the usual ethical or legal constraints.

  "I suppose a professional killer deserves what he gets." The words sounded strange coming from his mouth. Haley was normally a strong proponent of the legal process, and he wasn't an advocate for the death penalty.

  Ethel nodded. "His body will never be found."

  "But what about Coulter? If you kill the assassin, we'll lose the most important piece of evidence against him."

  "We can find evidence of other crimes, I'm sure. Is that your decision? You want your enemy sent to prison? Will that make you happy?"

  Haley had an intoxicating feeling of power. He could ask for anything, and she would have her minions take care of it. His hands would be clean.

  "I'm starting to understand why you have so many friends in Washington."

  "It's good to have friends." She smiled. "Personally, I don't like to use the court system as a weapon. It's a slow and clumsy means of revenge. But it's your choice."

  "You prefer simple murder," he said.

  "When I have a problem, I take the most direct route to a solution. That policy has served me well during my long career. My Boss certainly approves."

  "What about the sanctity of life? You can't take shortcuts when the ultimate punishment is being considered."

  "People like the Plumber have no sanctity," she said coldly.

  Haley was still no closer to figuring out Ethel's motives. Her organization seemed criminal at some times and heroic at others. Her attitude was certainly chilling.

  She had a point though. Coulter had enough money to hire the best lawyers. A trial might go on for years and accomplish little. Having him killed wasn't a good option either. Requesting a counter-assassination would put Haley at the same level as his enemy. He just wasn't the kind of man who ordered "hits."

  "A scandal," Haley said at last. "A ruinous scandal that destroys his life. I want the whole world to see Coulter as the embarrassment he really is."

  Ethel nodded. "Excuse me." She walked away and took out her phone.

  Her bodyguard, Boreas, trailed behind her. Haley hadn't even known the big man was in the hallway. He moved as silently as a ghost.

  Seferis leaned forward and whispered, "I can't believe you're going along with this, sir. It's criminal activity. What is this crazy woman doing to your mind?"

  Haley couldn't dismiss the criticism. In just one day, Ethel had become the dominant factor in his life. He couldn't stop thinking about her. She was such a unique and exciting woman. The whole world seemed to bend to her fierce will. Before she had come along, his life had been a dull slog through days filled with politics and government. In her presence, he felt like a young man again.

  "I'm struggling with an ambiguous situation. I do believe she's trying to protect me, but I can't tell you why I trust her. Either way, messing with her would be very dangerous. My dad had a saying. If you're trapped in a cage with a hungry lion, feed the lion."

  "That attitude seems a little cowardly."

  Haley shrugged helplessly.

  Ethel returned. "The arrangements have been made. The scandal will hit the headlines in the next few days. Speaking of arrangements, we have to discuss who is sleeping where tonight. I'll take the second bedroom in the suite. My bodyguard can sleep on the couch. That way, he'll protect both of us."

  Seferis stared at her with his mouth open.

  "Fine," Haley said. "Whatever you feel is best."

  * * *

  Aaron and his legionnaires were sitting around the big oak table in the conference room. Everybody was tired. The team had spent all day yesterday and a good chunk of the night investigating threats against the President. Now it was morning and time to start again.

  Aaron had managed the operation from headquarters while he and Perry had continued to do research. In addition, Aaron had worked the night shift in the security booth because nobody else was available. At times like this, the loss of Jack was particularly painful. The security chief had always volunteered to take extra shifts during missions.

  Aaron picked up a stack of papers and examined them. "Here are your first assignments for today..."

  "Sir," Sheryl interrupted, "it seems like we're running down a lot of blind alleys. The convention is about to start. The President could be attacked at any moment. Is there any way to speed up this process?"

  He looked up at her. She had circles under her pretty blue eyes.

  "I've done my best to prioritize the assignments," he said. "We can only investigate the leads we have."

  "But I'm worried."

  "So am I." He turned his attention back to the papers. "Smythe and Sheryl, you will investigate a group of extreme white supremacists. They call themselves Pure America. If you want to see the most racist shit ever written, check out their website." He pushed a piece of paper across the table to Smythe.

  "Can I have that assignment instead?" Tawni said eagerly. Her skin was too dark to show circles, but her eyes were bloodshot.

  "No."

  "Why not, sir?" She pouted.

  "Because you'd kill them," Aaron said. "We're still in the early stages of this investigation. Bloodshed is to be avoided, not embraced enthusiastically. You and Norbert will check out a cult instead. They think Haley is the Antichrist. That's familiar territory for you, Norbert."

  Norbert nodded. "Yes, sir."

  Aaron gave him the top sheet of paper. "Move quickly. Sheryl is right. We don't have much time. Dismissed."

  * * *

  A soft thumping noise woke Haley from a deep sleep. He opened his eyes. Orange light streaming through the window indicated it was early morning. The clock showed 6:30 AM. A good time to get up, he thought.

  He heard the thumping noise again, and it had come from outside his bedroom. He remembered he was sharing accommodations with Ethel and Boreas. Haley shrugged on a bathrobe and looked out his door.

  All the furniture in the main room had been pushed aside. Ethel was exercising in gray tights, and she held her silver machetes in her hands.

  She leapt, spun, and tumbled. She was a constant whirlwind of motion as she sailed through the air, seemingly unconstrained by gravity. Her blades flashed like liquid lightning. She landed in a perfect attack stance every time.

  Haley had never seen anything like it. Her movements were impossible. Nobody could be that fast, that limber, or that graceful, much less an old woman.

  Boreas was standing with his back to the door, blocking it with his massive body. He obviously didn't want Ethel's workout to be interrupted.

  "Good morning," she said without stopping.

  "You're not human." Haley's eyes followed her back and forth across the room.

  "I won't argue with you."

  "And I'm starting to wonder why you need a bodyguard."

  "I have a dangerous job," she said. "An old lady like me needs the protection of a big, strong man."

  He looked at her bodyguard. Boreas was indeed extremely big and strong.

  "Why does he always wear sunglasses?" Haley said.

  "The whites of his eyes are tinted blue," Ethel said. "It's a little embarrassing."

  "Can I
see?"

  Boreas took off his sunglasses. The whites of his eyes indeed had a strange, bluish hue.

  "Were you born that way?" Haley said.

  Boreas shook his head. "I've had this condition for five years."

  "How did it happen?"

  Boreas just put his sunglasses back on.

  Ethel landed and pointed at a desk. "I ordered breakfast. We already ate, but there is plenty left for you. The food came from a local bakery that was one of my favorites when I lived here." She sprang into the air again.

  Haley sat at the desk. There was an assortment of Danishes, muffins, and donuts. He could wash down the sweets with coffee or juice. He started munching on a chocolate chip muffin. It was delightfully fresh and moist.

  "This is good," he said.

  "You're surprised?" Ethel said.

  She performed a spinning attack in the air that left him dizzy just watching. Her machetes were a silver blur. She probably could've cut somebody in half. She landed like a cat and wasn't even breathing hard.

  "That's enough exercise," she announced. "I'll just take a quick shower." She went into the bathroom.

  Haley was left alone with Boreas.

  Feeling pressure to be friendly, Haley said, "How long have you been her bodyguard?"

  "Three months," Boreas stated in a deep, scratchy voice.

  "Do you like your job?"

  "Sometimes."

  Haley frowned. "You don't sound very enthusiastic."

  "Being her bodyguard is a unique honor and privilege. That doesn't mean it's always fun. Her duties can be... unpleasant, and I have to watch."

  "Like slaughtering Mexican gangs?"

  "No," Boreas said, "that was entertaining."

  Haley shook his head in dismay.

  Ethel came out of the bathroom wearing a damp towel.

  "You're done already?" he said.

  She nodded. "I do everything fast. By the way, I got a report this morning from Aaron."

  "Who is Aaron?"

  "The brown-haired man who was with me yesterday. He's in charge of the team that's trying to stop your assassination. They identified a hundred threats worth checking out. They're working down the list."

  "Sounds like a long list. Maybe the Secret Service could help him? They have plenty of resources."

  "Not a good idea," Ethel said. "My people don't like working with outsiders. We're shy and secretive." She went into her bedroom and closed the door.

  That's an understatement, Haley thought.

  He finished the delicious muffin and drank a big glass of orange juice. It was enough for breakfast. He didn't like weighing himself down in the morning.

  "What is she like?" Haley asked.

  "Ethel?" Boreas gave him a funny look. "Why?"

  "I'm curious about a woman who has become a central figure in my life."

  "Actually, I don't know much about her. She shares her thoughts and feelings only with her closest friends, and I'm not one of them. I will tell you one thing. She's sneaky."

  "How?"

  "Turn around," Boreas said.

  Haley looked over his shoulder. Suddenly, he was staring into a pair of black holes leading to nothing. Surprise and fear made him jump away. He accidently knocked over a pitcher of coffee.

  Ethel snatched the pitcher with an impossibly fast reaction. She set it down without spilling a drop.

  He breathed rapidly and tried to recover his composure. "How did you...?" He glanced at her bedroom door which was still closed.

  "You want to know about me? I'm a creature of darkness and rage. A witch with a frozen heart. Black death."

  "You have low self-esteem."

  "I know my role," she said.

  She had changed into her Secret Service outfit. She grabbed a donut with sprinkles and gobbled it down aggressively.

  His weak heart was beating fast. He felt a wave of dizziness and almost fell over.

  She grabbed him. "I'm sorry. I forgot. I should be more careful."

  "Yes, please."

  The wooziness slowly passed.

  "Ready to begin the day?" she said. "What's on the agenda?"

  He stood up carefully. "Parties, parties, and more parties until the big speeches tonight. These conventions are all about raising money, making connections, and being seen."

  "I'm not interested in any of those things. I'll just watch you be a wise and charismatic leader."

  * * *

  Norbert looked at the row of mobile homes. They were shabby by even the most forgiving standards. Paint was peeling from the aluminum siding, and the rubber on the exposed wheels had rotted away. Stacked cinderblocks supported the sagging frames.

  The landscaping was not an improvement. There were gardens of bare dirt and weeds. Train tracks ran twenty feet behind the back doors. Some of the trees were completely dead and had become a fire hazard.

  "This is fucking depressing," Tawni said. "Do we have to go in there? I'm sure these losers are no threat."

  "We don't know that," Norbert said. "When I was a monk, we were taught to be humble. This is certainly humble. It doesn't mean they aren't dedicated to their cause."

  She rolled her eyes.

  He went to the door of one of the homes and knocked.

  After a moment, it opened, and a man with a shaved head peered out. He wore white robes that went down to the floor. The robes had a few stains and torn seams.

  "How may I help you?" the monk said.

  "We came a long way to learn the truth about the Antichrist," Norbert said in an eager tone. "Can we come in?"

  The monk's eyes lit up. "Please."

  Norbert and Tawni were ushered inside. He was shocked when he saw how many people were packed inside the home. Men, women, and children occupied every available spot, and some had to sit on the floor. Mothers were openly nursing babies. The odor of dirty diapers was pervasive. Everybody wore robes, but some were more yellow than white. Tall stacks of books suggested the cult spent a lot of time reading.

  "Tell me," Norbert said, "please."

  "Roy Haley is the Antichrist," the first monk said. "He was sent up from Hell to destroy the world."

  "Oh?"

  "His wife is a demon."

  "I thought his wife died of cancer," Norbert said.

  "No!" The monk leaned forward eagerly. "She was sent down to prepare Satan's army. If Haley is reelected, it will be the Apocalypse!"

  Norbert sighed. "What is your proof?"

  "His father lived in house number 969."

  "So?"

  "It's the number of the beast!" the monk yelled. "Just flipped around a little. And when Haley was in the Navy, he was wounded in the forehead. That's the mark of the beast."

  "It's so obvious. What are you going to do about it?"

  "Destroy him. Fate brought him to Chicago so he would be near us. We are the soldiers of God!"

  "Obviously." Norbert looked around. "I don't see any guns. Soldiers usually have guns."

  The monk looked down and clenched his jaw.

  "You have a weapon, right? One strong enough to destroy the Devil's spawn? Can I see?"

  "No stranger may see the divine weapon," the monk said.

  That statement got Norbert's attention. Maybe there was something here after all. He looked at Tawni, and she nodded.

  All the people in the room were staring suspiciously. Norbert wasn't worried. He was sure he could take the whole bunch without difficulty. Most of the cult members were obviously malnourished.

  "It sounds like you're embarrassed," Norbert said.

  "That's a lie!" the monk said. "The weapon shines with the Lord's glory."

  "I'll see for myself." Norbert walked forward.

  The monk grabbed his arm. "No!"

  Norbert knocked him down with a brutal elbow to the jaw. The others became anxious, and some of the men started to get up. Norbert drew a gun and fired at the ceiling. The concussion rattled the windows. All the babies started crying.

  "Stay where you
are!" he bellowed. "I'm tired, I'm grouchy, and the stink in this place is making me nauseous. If anybody gets in my way, they'll get a taste of my divine weapon." He clenched his left hand so hard the knuckles popped.

  He and Tawni proceeded to search the filthy home. The bedroom had so many sleeping bags on the floor it was a joke. If this place had been a prison, it would've been considered cruel and unusual punishment.

  Norbert discovered a small shrine. Defaced pictures of Haley covered the walls. They showed the President with devil horns, tails, crazy eyebrows, and goatees. A thick haze of incense made it difficult to breathe.

  A wooden chest was in the middle of the floor surrounded by white candles. The divine weapon, Norbert thought. There was a large padlock on the hasp.

  He took out a knife and jammed it into the crack under the lid. He kicked the handle of the knife to break the hasp. He wasn't in a mood to fiddle with lock picks.

  What he saw inside the chest made him laugh out loud.

  Tawni came over and looked. "You got to be kidding." She snorted.

  The divine weapon was a plastic water gun. It was dressed up with colorful ribbons and bits of shiny wrapping paper, but the decorations only made it more ridiculous. Wire was wrapped around the nozzle like an electromagnet, but there wasn't even a battery.

  Norbert took the plastic gun back to the main room.

  He held it up to the monk's face. "This is it? You're going to kill the President with this piece of garbage?"

  The monk nodded. "It's very powerful, but you have to believe."

  "Show me." Norbert handed over the toy.

  The monk held it awkwardly.

  Norbert pointed at his own chest. "Shoot me right here. If that thing can take down the Son of Satan, it should have no trouble killing a regular guy like me."

  "But..."

  "Do it!" Norbert yelled. "Let everybody see."

  The monk pulled the trigger. A little stream of water dampened Norbert's chest.

  "That's what I thought," he growled.

  He grabbed the toy, threw it to the floor, and stomped on it. The cheap plastic broke easily. The monk stared at the remnants in horror.

  "Belief is a dangerous thing," Norbert said. "It can blind you. It can consume you. It can make you unable to admit you're wrong."