Involuntary Control (Gray Spear Society) (38 page)

He immediately knew how this battle would end and how he might ultimately escape. But first he had some work to do.

The warehouse contained stacks of fifty-gallon drums of gasoline and fuel oil. He ran past the drums and spat at them. Petroleum gurgled out and flooded across the smooth concrete floor. It seeped under crates of ammunition, which were everywhere.

A door banged opened on the north side of the warehouse. The guards were coming from another direction. Aaron looked around for a way to slow them down. He wanted to give the gasoline another couple of minutes to spread out and evaporate.

He spotted crates containing M224A1 mortars. Conveniently, the ammunition was in the next pile. He crouched down behind cover while he put the components together. He could hear the guard's quick footsteps echoing in the vast space. They called to each other as they searched for him.

The mortar was designed to shoot high explosive rounds over great distances, almost like a cannon. It was a crazy weapon to use inside a building. Aaron braced the base of the tube against a box and lowered the angle until it was almost level with the floor. Then he threw a round down the tube.

The result was a spectacular explosion on the far side of the warehouse. The air vibrated with the power of the blast. He was temporarily deafened, but he imagined the guards were yelling and running for cover. He fired two more rounds in that direction to make sure they got the message.

He saw a flash of sunlight as another door opened on the east side of the warehouse, and he immediately reoriented the mortar. He was getting a feel for how to aim it, so he targeted a stack of 120 mm cannon shells. The first shot went right, which disappointed him. The second shot hit the cannon shells dead center.

A rapid series of secondary blasts stunned him. The shockwave knocked out a hole in the concrete wall on that side of the warehouse, exposing bent pieces of rebar.

More doors opened on all sides. The guards were arriving en masse.
Out of time,
he thought.

He ran back to the Stryker. Slats on the side offered convenient handholds as he scrambled to get on top. He needed one more gob of saliva to unlock the heavy hatch. When it was open, he waited and watched. Guards were pouring into the warehouse. There was no possibility of sneaking past them, but that was never his plan.

He allowed one more moment to pass. He wanted full attendance at this party.

Then he threw an incendiary at a pool of gasoline and jumped into the Stryker. Just as he was closing the hatch, a fireball exploded.

It was very dark and quiet inside the vehicle. He felt his way to one of the tiny viewing ports. He could see just enough to get a sense of what was going on outside.

Boxes of ammunition went off first. They sounded like firecrackers, and a few bullets pinged off the Stryker's armor. A series of louder explosions had to be grenades. Then a huge blast made the entire vehicle sway on its suspension. Through the viewing ports he saw orange light in all directions. The whole warehouse was burning.

Let them try and get me now,
Aaron thought.

A sobering realization cooled his excitement. Men were dying in bunches out there. Technically, it was a case of self-defense. Those guards had certainly intended for bad things to happen to him, and there were no innocent bystanders in this fight. Still, Aaron should've spent a moment trying to devise a less violent solution. Maybe he could've hidden in the warehouse instead of blowing it up. Without proof of supernatural interference, this kind of egregious slaughter was hard to justify.

Another powerful explosion rocked the Stryker and knocked him off balance. Something heavy bounced off the roof.

No use thinking about what could've been,
he thought.

* * *

Smythe was lying in the darkness inside the cremation oven. He had his pistol in hand. He wasn't sure how long he was supposed to wait here. Aaron's orders hadn't been specific.

The oven door opened abruptly. For an instant he was looking into the face of a very surprised guard. Smythe shot the man in the forehead before he had time to recover his wits.

Smythe looked outside the oven. The guard seemed to be alone. It was likely nobody outside of the building had heard the gunshot through the thick walls.

"Norbert!" Smythe said. "Come out!"

Norbert crawled out of his own oven. In the meantime Smythe stuffed the body of the dead guard into the oven he had just left. There was a puddle of blood on the floor, but hopefully, it wouldn't get noticed.

"What now?" Norbert said.

"Shh."

Smythe went over to the front door of the small building, silently opened it, and peeked through the crack. There was a lot of commotion outside. Guards were running in one direction, and everybody else was running in the other. Nobody seemed the least bit interested in the crematorium.

"We're going to walk out of here," Smythe said. "Nice and calm. Don't do anything that might draw attention."

Norbert nodded.

They left the building. Bright hot sunlight stung Smythe's eyes for an instant. It was immediately obvious what the excitement was about.

Flames were pouring out of the top of a huge building next door. The walls were broken, which was impressive considering they were made of reinforced concrete. Through the cracks he saw a raging firestorm. Frequent bangs sounded like bombs exploding.

"Must be Aaron's handiwork," Smythe said. "He likes to paint with a big brush."

"But where is he?" Norbert looked around.

Smythe had a grim feeling Aaron was in the burning building. It was the only place he could've run to. However, he wouldn't have started a fire if he had known it would kill him. The boss always planned everything at least two steps ahead.

A red fire truck zoomed past with its sirens blaring. Pedestrians scrambled to get out of the way.

"Let's stick around and see what happens next," Smythe said.

"Huh?" Norbert said. "Shouldn't we hide until Marina gets here?"

"Nobody will notice two extra guards in this chaos. This is the safest place for us to be right now. Come on. Let's help put out the fire."

Smythe chased after the fire truck.

* * *

The air inside the Stryker was uncomfortably hot. The warehouse fire had burned much more intensely than Aaron had expected, and now he was in trouble. He had planned to simply hide in the vehicle until the fire died down and there was an opportunity to sneak away. Now he realized he would be roasted instead.

His only option was trying to drive the Stryker out of the warehouse. Unfortunately, that meant revealing his presence, and he had no realistic chance of escaping. The enemy would surround him immediately. If he were lucky, he might take out a few more guards before he died. Still, a glorious final stand was better than being cooked like a pig.

He went to the driver's compartment. Orange light came through the thick, narrow windows and allowed him to see the controls. He found the ignition easily but it needed a key. Fortunately, he had learned how to hotwire cars as a teenager, and he had polished that skill his whole life. He poked his head under the dashboard. Using gobs of saliva as a universal cutting tool, he took apart the panels until he reached the wiring. It looked like a standard truck ignition. He pushed the correct wires together.

The engine sounded like it was lubricated with gravel but it ran. He stomped on the gas pedal. There was no point in using the steering wheel because he couldn't see where he was going.

The Stryker lurched forward just a few inches. Aaron realized the tires were probably melted. He already felt dizzy and nauseous from the heat.

The engine died.

In the quiet that followed, he had a moment to think.
This is how it ends. Nothing like how I imagined it would be. I guess death always comes as a surprise.
He sighed.
I hope Smythe and Norbert got away.

He settled into the driver's seat. It was surprisingly comfortable and as good a place to die as any.

He considered praying, but he didn't really have anything to say. Begging for rescue was pointless. If the Lord wanted Aaron to live, it would happen. Otherwise, it wouldn't. Any other topics of discussion could wait a few minutes until Aaron met God in person.

He was losing the strength to sit up straight. He had a crushing headache.

He noticed the fire outside was stopping for some reason. Suddenly, water sprayed onto the narrow front window. Heat stress shattered the glass and cold water trickled in.
The fire department finally got here.

He slumped forward onto the steering wheel and passed out.

* * *

It took several guards working as a team to hold the heavy fire hose. Smythe and Norbert were at the end of the line of men, but they held as tightly as the rest. Nobody had questioned their help during the crisis. Every extra pair of hands was more than welcome.

The fire was mostly gone, but some hot spots still needed dowsing. Rescue teams were already moving tentatively through the ashes. Only heavy pieces of equipment, such as vehicles and artillery, were still recognizable. The intense blaze had burned or melted everything else. It was impossible to believe anybody had survived.

One of the rescue workers started yelling for assistance. Smythe looked over and saw him standing next to a Stryker transport vehicle. The eight oversized wheels were destroyed but the blackened hull was still intact. The rescuer was pointing through the front window.

Others came to help. It took several minutes, but they managed to pull a body out of the hulk. Their excitement suggested the victim was still alive. The Stryker's thick armor had protected him from the fire for just long enough.
A very lucky man,
Smythe thought,
or very smart.

The victim was placed on a stretcher and carried out of the destroyed building. Smythe caught a glimpse of Aaron's unconscious face.

Smythe yelped with excitement.
I knew he would survive!
He and Norbert clasped hands, which was as much emotion as they dared to show in front of the others.

Aaron was rushed off to another building, presumably a medical facility. Smythe took careful note of its location. He was already planning his next moves.

"Let's go," he said softly.

He and Norbert put down the fire hose. They walked away.

Chapter Twenty-three

Aaron opened his eyes. The fact he had eyes at all came as a surprise. He had expected to wake up dead.

He was in a small chamber made entirely of concrete and steel. There were no windows. Several men were in the room, making it seem crowded. Some were guards and others looked like doctors.

Aaron tried to move and discovered he was bound to a steel chair. Nylon straps were wrapped around his arms, legs, and chest. The chair was bolted firmly to the floor. Clear fluid dripped from a bag into an IV needle in his arm. He had been stripped down to his underwear.

"I suppose I should thank you for saving my life," Aaron said calmly.

One of the guards stepped forward. "Who are you?"

The man had gray hair and a weathered face. His blue eyes held obvious intelligence. His body armor seemed of better quality than what the others wore, and he was much older than them.

"Are you in charge?" Aaron said.

"Yes."

"Then are you Nolan Doolittle, commander of the infamous Doolittle Hitters?"

Doolittle narrowed his eyes. "You're well informed. What else do you know?"

"You have a mind control device, which you implant in people's brains. I've seen what your technology can do. Horrifying."

Doolittle stood back and crossed his arms. He was strongly built for a man in his autumn years. A pink scar ran from below his left eye to the tip of his chin.

"We had some trouble in Lemonseed recently," he said. "Do you happen to know anything about that?"

Aaron nodded. "I've been a thorn in your side for a little while now. I also planted the transmitter on General Clark. I'd tell you more, but some conversations are better held in private. Do you mind clearing the room?"

It was a bold gambit. Aaron hoped he had teased Doolittle enough to make him take the bait.

"Why not?" Doolittle faced his guards. "Wait outside the door."

"Sir?" one of the guards said.

"He can't cause any trouble."

The guards and doctors left the room.

Aaron needed to keep the conversation going for as long as possible. It would give him time to think and recover his strength. Also, Doolittle might reveal crucial information due to overconfidence. Aaron had never tried reverse interrogation before, and he was curious to see how it would go.

"Are you here to steal my technology?" Doolittle said.

Aaron snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't need it or want it. You're long term plans don't interest me much either. As far as I'm concerned, you're just another maniac who wants to conquer the world. I've met your type before."