Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8) (22 page)

The federal agents in the room rushed forward to recapture him.

Boreas took off his sunglasses, and the whites of his eyes had turned aquamarine. Haley felt a sudden, biting chill in his chest. His legs weakened, and he dropped to his knees. All the federal agents were struck down simultaneously. They fell to the floor, totally incapacitated. None of them even had a chance to touch Aaron.

Two FBI agents remained standing. One was a tremendously muscular man with brown, curly hair. His face was a little puffy, but that was the only soft thing about him. The other was a gorgeous, black woman in her mid-twenties. She was tall and very fit. Wavy, black hair hung down past her shoulders. The two agents were obviously waiting for orders. Haley realized they were part of Ethel's crew.

"Take the lead," Ethel told Aaron.

He nodded. "Let's go!"

Ethel and most of her team ran to the door.

The young, black woman ran to Haley instead. He was too cold to speak. All he could do was stare at her pretty face and shiver helplessly.

"I'm a big fan," she said with a grin. "I love you. It's great seeing you in person."

"Come!" Aaron barked.

She ran off to join her comrades.

George Seferis was struggling to speak. He was shivering so much it looked like he was having convulsions. His skin was deathly pale.

With great effort, he forced the words, "I... told... you... so... sir."

Haley couldn't argue with that statement.

Chapter Eleven

Aaron walked into the hallway outside the exercise room. A few dozen federal agents were casually standing guard or chatting with each other. None of them knew the President had been attacked. Boreas' gift was wonderfully quick and quiet. The alarm would be raised very soon though.

Aaron already had a plan in mind. He guided his small group deeper into the United Center.

"Sir," Norbert said, "the nearest exit is that way." He pointed behind them.

"I know," Aaron said, "but escaping on foot would be too slow. We'd have to fight our way through the mess outside. We don't have time for that. I have a better idea."

Norbert looked at Tawni. She shrugged. Ethel and Boreas showed no reaction. The legate's total confidence comforted Aaron.

He found a stairway that went up. At a quick pace, he led his people up floor after floor. It was a long climb as they made their way to the top of the building.

He wanted to get onto the roof. He had reviewed the architectural plans for the United Center, but he couldn't remember the location of the roof access. It took several frustrating minutes for the team to locate the right ladder. Finally, they climbed up and reached the darkness above.

Aaron took a deep breath of cool, night air. City lights washed out the stars, but the few he could see were beautiful.

The roof was a vast, white dome with a slight curvature. The surface was smooth except for a few supporting ribs. A walkway ran around the outer edge.

Two Secret Service snipers in black body armor were looking outwards. Aaron pointed at them. Boreas' eyes turned blue, and the snipers collapsed to the walkway. Aaron rushed over to check their condition. They were alive but unconscious.

Aaron looked over the edge at the utter chaos in the parking lot below. Hundreds of police officers were trying to control tens of thousands of frightened civilians. Red, blue, and yellow lights flashed everywhere. Emergency crews were fighting the crowds to get into the buildings. The streets all around were jammed with vehicles going every direction, and none were moving. Aaron expected it would take hours to untangle the traffic snarl.

Ethel joined him. "You always did like to paint with broad strokes."

"If I had figured it out sooner," he said, "we could've avoided this mess. I should've realized right away that Pure America had hidden allies. May I borrow your phone, ma'am? The feds took mine."

She gave him her phone.

He unlocked it and went to the contact list. He was surprised to find hundreds of numbers, all labeled with sequences of seemingly random letters. He was unfamiliar with the code.

He dialed Perry's number from memory.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Perry answered nervously.

"This is Aaron. My phone was taken so I'm using the legate's. Send the self-destruct code to my old phone. Have a new one ready for me when I get back to headquarters."

"Yes, sir."

"I need two more things," Aaron said. "Tell the Chicago police five people are trapped on the roof of the United Center. Southern edge. Have them send a large rescue helicopter immediately."

"Are you those five people?"

"Of course."

Norbert and Tawni had joined Aaron. The
legionnaires
gave him looks of appreciation.

"Yes, sir," Perry said. "What's the last thing?"

"Locate Olaf Wagner. This is extremely urgent. If you have any trouble, ask the twins to help you. We have to get to him before the bad guys do."

"I'm confused. I thought Olaf was one of the bad guys."

"No," Aaron said. "He's just a patsy. He'll be a dead patsy soon. Our real enemy is going to kill him tonight to make sure he never talks. I need that helicopter
now
!"

"Yes, sir!"

Aaron closed the phone and gave it back to Ethel.

She smiled. "It sounds like I get to interrogate a white supremacist tonight."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm expecting to see your best work."

"I won't disappoint you." Her eyes gleamed.

He looked down at the chaotic scene in the parking lot. Small teams of federal agents were fanning out in a systematic search pattern. Aaron felt sorry for those men and women. It was going to be a tiring and frustrating night for them.

"While we're waiting for the helicopter, there is something we need to talk about. It's not a pleasant topic, ma'am."

"What?" Ethel said.

Aaron paused to gather his thoughts. "Did you hear about those French scientists who died?"

"Some kind of accidental explosion."

"Those scientists were working with technical information given to them by Kamal. Our Kamal. It was forbidden knowledge he received from the twins."

She stared at him. "Why would he do such a thing?"

"You know how he is. Always trying to save the world with science. In this case, the technology was a source of free, clean energy. God intended the twins to use it for their special project only."

"Why didn't you inform me immediately?"

"Both of us were busy, ma'am," he said. "I felt it could wait a few hours."

"It couldn't! I have to call Europe." Snarling, she dialed a number on her phone. "Petri, this is Ethel. We have a problem."

She related the information Aaron had given her. He presumed she was talking to the
legatus legionis
of Europe. Aaron made sure to be very quiet. Norbert and Tawni had wide eyes.

After the call ended, Ethel said, "Petri will do his best to clean up the mess in France. He'll keep the forbidden knowledge from spreading. You have to deal with Kamal."

"You want me to retire him, ma'am?" Aaron said softly.

"His offense is very disappointing. There is no excuse for such a severe lapse in judgment, especially for a long-time Spear like him. I would certainly kill him. Roy would probably let him off with a severe warning. There is an argument for either choice. You're Kamal's commander. Do what you think is right."

That wasn't the response he wanted to hear. If she had simply told him to kill Kamal, Aaron would've done so without question. Instead, he had to make a decision and live with the guilt.

"Yes, ma'am," Aaron said glumly.

Ethel sighed and looked down. There was an expression of sadness on her face that he had rarely seen.

"You feel bad about Kamal? I know you worked together for many years."

"Yes," she said, "but that's not the only thing. I think I did irreparable harm to my relationship with Roy tonight. He kissed me earlier. It was my first real kiss in decades, a perfect moment. I think he actually cares for me. At least he did." She wiped her eyes.

Nobody spoke. The only sound was distant sirens.

* * *

General Arnold Joseph was sitting in his office in the Pentagon. A large television hanging on the opposite wall was showing live news from Chicago. Practically every channel was covering the breaking story.

Slow motion footage of the explosion was being repeated over and over. The many television cameras within the United Center had recorded the event from all angles. As far as he could tell, the bomb had detonated with the right amount of force at the right time. The problem was the location of the blast. Apparently, the bomb had failed to drop due to some malfunction.

The reports were confusing and contradictory. There was still no official word on whether President Haley or Vice President Darrow had survived. Nothing else really mattered to Joseph.

Many photographs on the wall surrounded the television, chronicling his long and proud career as an Air Force officer. The earliest showed him standing next to an F-105 Thunderchief Wild Weasel. He had flown that plane during the Vietnam War and still had a particular fondness for the aircraft despite its limitations. Later pictures showed him with units he had commanded. Perhaps his favorite was from Operation Desert Storm. He had been one of the architects of the bombing campaign that had laid waste to the Iraqi army.

Joseph's gaze drifted to a signed photograph of Brigadier General Robin Olds. Meeting the ace pilot was a memory that Joseph cherished. The Air Force had changed so much since the days when Olds had flown. Daring, seat-of-the-pants pilots like him were a quickly vanishing breed. War was a video game now.

Bright red words began to appear on the television screen, overlaying the news coverage. The letters were a special holographic projection which was only visible from the desk. Anybody else in the room would just see the news and not even realize communication was occurring. The system was designed to be utterly covert.

"2: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? IS HALEY STILL ALIVE?"

Joseph reached into his desk drawer and took out a soft, foam ball. It looked and felt like a stress ball used for exercising the muscles in the hand. He placed his fingers in the right spots and squeezed. He felt a gadget with buttons hidden inside the foam. By pressing specific combinations, he could send text messages. He held the ball in his lap in a natural position in case somebody barged into the room or peeked through a window. A spy would think he was just watching television and working off stress.

He sent, "1: DON'T KNOW. BOMB EXPLODED IN WRONG PLACE."

More words appeared, "3: SECRET SERVICE CONTACT TOLD ME PRESIDENT SURVIVED. VICE PRES TOO. MISSION FAILED TOTALLY."

"1: FUCK!" Joseph replied.

"3: FBI AGENT USED GUN TO DETONATE BOMB. NO MALFUNCTION. AGENT KNEW BOMB WAS THERE."

Joseph shook his head in disbelief. The conspirators called themselves the Corners of Freedom. They had spent months planning and precisely executing the assassination. Every precaution had been taken. They had even arranged for a real military operative to plant a second bomb in case the first failed.

"3: FBI AGENT ARRESTED."

"2: WHO IS AGENT?"

"3: UNKNOWN. ESCAPED. DETAILS CONFUSING. THERE WAS SOME KIND OF FIGHT. HALEY INVOLVED BUT NOT HURT."

"1: DON'T UNDERSTAND. AGENT DID NOT WANT CREDIT FOR SAVING PRESIDENT'S LIFE?"

"3: THAT IS MY INTEL."

"4: I HEARD RUMOR. KILLER COLD RAY USED DURING FIGHT. NOT CREDIBLE."

"1: FRIGHTENED PEOPLE MAKING UP CRAZY STORIES."

"4: YES. WE MUST TIE UP LOOSE ENDS TONIGHT. CAN'T WAIT."

"1: I CONCUR. KILL OLAF WAGNER AND REST OF PURE AMERICA ASAP. NO MORE USE FOR THEM."

"4: I WILL TAKE CARE OF IT."

"2: CAN'T LET HALEY GET BACK TO WASHINGTON ALIVE. NEW BUDGET JUST NEEDS HIS SIGNATURE."

"1: AFFIRMATIVE. GATHER INFORMATION FAST. MEET AGAIN IN MORNING AND MAKE NEW PLAN."

"3: I WILL TALK TO CONTACT AGAIN."

"1: THIS IS JUST A SETBACK. CORNERS OF FREEDOM WILL WIN. HALEY WILL DIE. GOOD NIGHT."

Joseph put the rubber ball back in his desk and turned off the television.

He walked over to an old-fashioned wooden cabinet in the corner of his office. He opened a door to reveal several bottles of the finest liquor. He had planned to have a celebratory drink tonight. Instead, he needed a shot to calm his nerves. He was accustomed to the fog of war, but what had happened tonight was more than that. There was no possible way the FBI could've known about the bomb.

He poured himself two fingers of whiskey. He drank it all in one shot.

* * *

Aaron looked up as a helicopter approached. He was expecting the blue and white markings of the Chicago police. Instead, this helicopter was green and quite large. It looked like something the Army might fly.

It will work just as well,
Aaron thought.

He and the rest of the Spears began to wave their arms frantically. The helicopter descended to their position. The roof of the United Center was too weak to support its weight, so it hovered in the air instead. The side door opened.

A man wearing a National Guard uniform leaned out and yelled, "You need help?" His voice was barely understandable over the engine and rotor noise.

Using hand gestures, Aaron made the soldier understand that everybody needed a ride. The soldier tossed down a rope ladder.

The whole team went up quickly. It was a snug fit, but there was just enough room in the passenger compartment for everybody. Aaron recognized the helicopter as a UH-72A Lakota. The engine whined as it struggled with a full load.

Aaron put his mouth near the pilot's ear and yelled, "Find open space. Get us on the ground."

The pilot nodded and flew off. The sky was crowded with other helicopters. The logos of local television stations marked the smallest ones. The police and fire departments also had their birds in the air. A couple of fearsome, black Vipers were part of the President's security detail.

The pilot went half a mile north and found an empty parking lot. The helicopter descended quickly to the asphalt and touched down.