Involuntary Control (Gray Spear Society) (37 page)

Both technicians glanced at Aaron. They shut their mouths and focused on their food.

Aaron took his tray back to the buffet. He topped off his bowl of chicken soup, which was surprisingly good. The other possibility was he was just very hungry.

He picked a new spot to eat. Now he was near two electricians who seemed to be having a very serious discussion.

"You know what happened to Sam?" one electrician said in a low voice.

It was hard to hear him over the noise in the cafeteria, but Aaron had good ears.

"No," the second electrician said. "What happened?"

"He was wiring lights on top of the south tower when the jarheads decided to turn on the deep field radar. The bastards think safety checks are for cowards. No warning. They went straight to full power."

"Jeez."

"Sam was fried like an egg. The guy had a wife and a kid. All they'll get is a letter full of lies from the government. No compensation. They can't even see the body."

"Fuck," the second electrician said.

"Watch my back from now on. OK?"

"Sure. You do the same for me."

The conversation ended. Aaron ate his food for a few minutes so his behavior would appear natural.

When a reasonable amount of time had passed, he went in search of his friends. Norbert and Smythe were already together at their own table, and Aaron joined them.

"Report," Aaron said very quietly.

"This place is still under construction," Smythe said. "Only half the barracks are usable. I heard complaints about the hot water supply. The electrical system is unreliable. The backup generators are still being installed."

"And the working conditions are miserable," Norbert said.

"I got the same impression," Aaron said. "It sounds like we pushed the enemy into occupying this facility ahead of schedule. That's good for us. The security might still have gaps."

"I looked at the backs of heads," Smythe said. "I didn't see any scars. I guess all the mind control victims died in Lemonseed, and Doolittle hasn't had time to do the surgery on these people. Or maybe he's being more cautious with the technology."

A squad of guards entered the cafeteria. One was carrying a metal box with antennas sticking out all over. He pointed the device in different directions while looking at the back of it.

"That's interesting." Aaron nodded towards the newcomers.

Smythe and Norbert casually glanced in the same direction.

"Some kind of radio detector I think," Smythe said.

"They're looking for a bug?" Aaron said.

"Or any kind of suspicious transmission."

"Our phones!"

The three men quickly reached up their sleeves and turned off their phones. The guard with the detector reacted with apparent surprise. Frowning, he shook his device and pressed buttons on the back.

"That was too close," Aaron said. "From now on, the phones stay off."

Chapter Twenty-two

Marina wiped sweat from her forehead. She had parked the garbage truck on the side of the road a few miles from the secret base. She had two hours to fix the hydraulic line. It was a messy job, but she was well prepared for it. All the needed tools and supplies were in the cab, and she even had a list of instructions from Nancy. Marina would have no trouble completing the task on time. Her only real difficulty was dealing with swarms of mosquitoes.

Her phone rang. She quickly checked the caller ID, and the numeric code indicated Bethany was calling.

She answered, "Hello?"

"Marina?" Bethany said in her characteristically quiet voice. "There's a problem, ma'am."

"What?" Marina was suddenly worried.

"We lost tracking on the entire team. It looks like their phones are off."

"Oh."

"Is that bad?" Bethany said.

"It can't be good." Marina grimaced.

"What should we do, ma'am?"

"Stick with the schedule. I'll try to pick them up when I supposed to. Hopefully, they'll be there."

"What if they're not?" Bethany said. "What if Norbert...?"

"Calm down. Did you just figure out being a Spear is a very dangerous business? If there's an unexpected problem, I trust Aaron will work out a quick solution. He's a genius at that. But I suppose it can't hurt for us to start working on a rescue plan."

"What do you need us to do?"

"Let me think." Marina clucked her tongue. "In an emergency, the simplest, most forceful solution is usually the best. You don't want to screw around. I'll use an attack helicopter. It has to be fast and stealthy enough to get in and out without getting shot down. I'd prefer to operate in darkness, so night vision is mandatory. And I'll need air-to-ground weapons to clear a landing area."

"We don't understand. You want us to buy an attack helicopter?"

"No. There are Army and Air Force bases in Illinois. My dream helicopter must be on one of them. Your task is to find it. Then, generate fake orders to have it armed, fueled, and ready to fly."

"How will you get the helicopter?" Bethany said.

"One problem at a time. I still have to fix this stupid hydraulic line. We did too good a job when we broke it last night. Is that all?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"One last thing," Marina said. "If I was rude to you before, I apologize. I'm really glad you're on the team. Without your help, this mission would've been a total bust from the start. You girls are amazing."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Now get to work. Norbert needs you now." Marina closed her phone.

* * *

"This could be a problem," Aaron said.

He, Norbert, and Smythe were still in the cafeteria. Guards had blocked all the exits. When people tried to leave, the guards would pat them down and scan them with a portable metal detector. Obviously, they were looking for the source of the radio transmissions.

"I should've realized our phones would cause trouble," Smythe said. "This situation was avoidable."

"It's obvious in retrospect," Aaron said.

"Are we going to try to talk our way out of here?"

"No. First, we don't have solid cover stories. If the guards get chatty with us, we're screwed. Second, that metal detector will find our phones."

"We could leave our phones behind."

Aaron shook his head. "They are our lifelines." He paused to think. "If we get into a fight, let me handle it. You two just worry about escaping. We'll rendezvous at the extraction point."

"But we're a team," Smythe said. "We fight together."

"Not this time. Losing one man is a regrettable occurrence. Losing three is ridiculous. That won't be the tale of my first and last mission as a commander. If we get to that point, I'll cover your escape. Get off this base. Those are my orders, and they're non-negotiable."

Smythe frowned and appeared uncomfortable.

Aaron looked around. A wide opening led into an unlit kitchen. It was a good escape route except for two guards blocking the way. A men's restroom was just to the left of the kitchen.

"Follow me," he said.

Smythe and Norbert went with Aaron into the restroom. It contained standard stalls and urinals. The exterior walls were made of solid concrete, just like every other building on the base. The only window was far too small for a grown man to squeeze through.

"Watch the door," Aaron said.

He went into the stall at the end. One side was made of drywall, and if his judgment were correct, the kitchen was on the other side. He spat at the wall. His saliva bubbled and hissed, and a hole formed. He stuck his fingers through the opening to find the studs. With patience, brute strength, and plenty of spit, he created a mouse hole big enough to crawl through.

The kitchen was indeed on the other side. In the darkness, he saw industrial stoves, mixers, and refrigerators. Some of the equipment had been installed, but most of it was still in crates. Shelves and counters were partially built. Aaron wondered why no work was being done in the kitchen today.
The construction workers probably have higher priority projects,
he thought.

"This way," he whispered to Norbert and Smythe. "Very quietly."

The three men forced their muscular bodies through the hole. Aaron could see the guards blocking the passage into the cafeteria, but they were facing the other way. The noise from people talking and eating provided cover.

When Smythe and Norbert had cleared the hole, Aaron led them deeper into the kitchen. As he went from room to room, it became very dark, and he had to wait until his eyes adjusted. He finally found a door leading outside. Gently, he opened it and slipped into the bright sunlight. Smythe followed and Norbert brought up the rear.

Norbert allowed the door to close with a bang.

Aaron gave him a dirty look. "Move!" he hissed.

They walked briskly away.

"Somebody will see that hole in the bathroom wall," Smythe said. "The guards will know there is an intruder."

"I realize that," Aaron said.

He noticed one of the smaller buildings had a wide brick smokestack. It was an unusual feature, and he decided to check it out.

He walked over to the front door of the building. After checking in all directions for witnesses, he went inside. The interior was very dark. He found a light switch and flipped it on.

The spacious room was dominated by three large gray machines. They were about six feet wide, eight feet tall, and more than ten feet deep. Each had a square metal door on the front. He also saw sturdy metal gurneys with built-in hydraulic lifts. Shelves held a variety of hand tools, small brooms, and rakes. Thick leather gloves hung on the walls.

Aaron sniffed the air. "Smells like ashes."

"That's because this is a crematorium," Smythe said grimly, "and it was used recently."

Norbert muttered a quick prayer.

"Very convenient," Aaron said. "General Doolittle can dispose of his mistakes on site."

He walked over to one of the machines and looked inside. The interior was lined with fire bricks, and a thin layer of white ash covered the bottom.

"They didn't clean this one very well."

Norbert made a choking noise.

"Can we go?" Smythe said.

"Sure," Aaron said.

Smythe opened the door, took one look outside, and immediately closed it again. "Trouble."

"Hide inside the ovens."

"Sir?"

"Do it!" Aaron said. "I'll draw them away."

Smythe and Norbert scrambled to get into the ovens. Aaron closed the oven doors but didn't lock them. They could still be pushed open from the inside.

Aaron calmly exited the building, turning off the lights as he left. A squad of six guards was approaching purposefully. He nodded to them politely and continued forward.

"Hey!" a guard yelled. "Stop where you are!"

Aaron sprinted away.

He knew it was a matter of seconds before they started shooting, so his first priority was finding cover. He shrugged off his heavy rifle and let it drop. It would just slow him down.

He dashed to the next building and went around the corner. A bullet whistled past his head just as he turned. He came to a hard stop when he saw a doorway. It didn't matter what was on the other side. He slammed it open and ran into the building.

He found himself in a huge warehouse full of military equipment and supplies.

He grinned.
Thank you, Lord, for the bounty laid before us.

First things first though,
he thought. He drew his sidearm and threw himself flat on the ground. He aimed back at the door.

The squad burst through. Four men caught bullets in their faces within a couple of seconds. The large caliber rounds blasted through their skulls and carried chunks of brain out the far side. The two surviving guards managed to get back outside before Aaron had a chance to kill them.
Always be cautious when going through doors.

He knew the respite would be brief. He jumped to his feet and jogged through the warehouse. He was looking for anything that could help him survive. A crate of incendiary grenades caught his eye. The crate was locked, but a gob of his saliva solved that problem. He opened the lid and discovered twenty-four beautiful, gleaming canisters of fiery death inside. He only had four pockets, so he stuffed a grenade into each one.

He heard a door open on the south side of the warehouse behind him. It seemed the two guards from earlier were trying to sneak in. He tossed an incendiary in that direction to make them reconsider that foolish plan. Brilliant, white light brightened the entire warehouse.

An eight-wheeled Stryker transport vehicle was parked nearby. It had ceramic armor layered over a heavy steel hull. It was designed to protect troops from poison gas, fire, mines, grenades, and any other weapon lighter than an armor piercing shell. He could get inside through a hatch on top.