The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6) (30 page)

Odelia immediately stood up. The two of them walked back to the car at a brisk pace.

"What happened inside?" she said.

"I knocked the guy out and bugged him," he said. "I got his name and driver's license number. I didn't see anything interesting. Just a lot of equipment. What about you?"

"I planted two listening devices and two trackers."

"I love working with you. We make a great team. I wish it happened more often."

They reached the car. Odelia opened the trunk and started digging out the radio receivers for all the bugs they had planted.

Smythe called Aaron.

Aaron answered quickly, "Yes?"

"We found the building, sir." Smythe gave a quick summary of what had happened.

"Well done. The twins are still asleep, and I want them to stay that way for another hour. They'll work on this later. In the meantime, you're on stakeout duty. Listen and follow."

"Yes, sir."

Chapter Twelve

The Handyman rubbed his sore head. He felt like he had been hit by a truck. With help from the security guards, he got to his feet.

He looked around for the two mysterious technicians who had caused the trouble. They were gone, of course. He checked himself. He still had his gun and his wallet. Aside from a ringing headache, he didn't seem to be injured.

He told the security guards to leave him alone and went into his workshop. His assistant was lying on the floor with his eyes closed, but he was still breathing. There was a bloody cut on the side of his head.

"Fuck," the Handyman said.

He quickly checked the room. It didn't appear as if anything had been taken or disturbed. All the precious control modules were still on the shelves. The alarms on the windows and the back door were still active. He rubbed his sore head again. Lingering dizziness was making it hard to think clearly.

There were two white phones on the wall. Both were hardwired to the same location. The Handyman's instructions were to use the left one for normal communication and the right one for emergencies. He picked up the right one.

The call went through automatically, and he listened to the ringing at the other end.

"Yes?" a familiar but nameless voice said. "What's wrong?"

The Handyman only knew that his employer was a highly placed executive. They had never met in person. The Handyman was fiercely loyal though. The boss not only paid well, but he had helped the Handyman deal with an annoying ex-wife.

"We just had more trouble, sir." The Handyman described the incident.

"Damn," the boss said. "You're sure nothing was taken?"

"Pretty sure. I'll check again. The troublemakers were here for only a minute."

"How is your man doing?"

"Still unconscious," the Handyman said. "Looks like he took a nasty hit to the head. I should get him to the hospital."

"This is very troubling. There must be a mole. How else could anybody know about you? Your location is a secret, and our systems have the best security."

"Did you make your calls, sir?"

"Yes," the boss said. "I have people checking on people checking on people. If necessary, I'll turn my entire organization upside-down to get to the bottom of this. Everything was going so well until last night, and now I can't even trust my own employees. It's so frustrating."

"We are anarchists, sir."

"That's an interesting point."

"I need to call an ambulance." The Handyman looked at his assistant and frowned.

"Go ahead. Take care of your man. Then get back to work."

"Actually, sir, I might have a concussion. Maybe I should see a doctor, too."

"No," the boss said. "No breaks. We have to push forward. We can't let our enemies slow us down at this critical juncture."

The Handyman rubbed his head and felt nauseous. "Yes, sir. Of course."

"Good bye." The call ended.

* * *

Tawni was astonished as she watched Aaron and Norbert spar. Their moves were so quick and fluid they reminded her of a well rehearsed dance, but dancers didn't hit this hard. She could hear fists and feet pounding flesh. Both men seemed happy to push the boundary between training and actual combat. They would certainly walk away from this match with bruises. This was how God's warriors practiced.

Aaron performed a flipping spinning kick that should've been physically impossible for such a big man. Norbert evaded by dropping into a full split and punching upwards. Aaron grabbed his opponent's arm while still in mid-air. An instant later, the master had his student in a brutal arm lock.

Norbert slapped the mat.

Aaron released him and stood up. "You're getting good. Maybe you'll beat me some day."

"I'm not holding my breath, sir," Norbert said.

Tawni sighed with frustration. Witnessing them spar reminded her how much training she needed. All the other
legionnaires
were so much quicker and stronger than her.

"Tawni," Aaron said, "spar with Wesley."

She looked at the boy and his amazing blue eyes. She was more than a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than him. It didn't seem fair.

"Sir?" she said. "Really?"

"You're sure you can beat him?" Aaron said.

"He's just a kid."

"Think about it. Who is this child? What sort of people does he hang out with?"

She looked at Wesley again. He smiled innocently at her.

Damn it,
she thought. She had already sparred with Aaron and Norbert, and those experiences had been completely humiliating. Now the little twerp was going to teach her a lesson, too.

"Go on," Aaron said. "This is how we get better."

Tawni nodded sadly. "Yes, sir."

She got into the best stance she could manage.

Everybody wore white karate uniforms and gray belts, even Aaron. The outfit looked cute on Wesley's little body. When he stepped into a perfect fighting stance and tightened his fists, it was less cute.

He came at her all at once. He wasn't tall enough to hit her face, but he could certainly reach her body. His little feet smacked her ribs, chest, and stomach with enough force to hurt. She tried to fight back, but she was always a step too slow.

"Think," Aaron said. "Analyze your opponent. He's very skilled but he has weaknesses."

Tawni didn't see any weakness. All she saw was a short, white whirlwind with perfect technique and the quick twitch reflexes of a child.

She was a lot bigger than him though. No amount of training could change that fact. He was also too aggressive. He was fighting as if he had something to prove, and that gave her an idea.

The next time he kicked her stomach, she froze instead of trying to block or evade. She made her stomach muscles as tight as possible. He wasn't expecting such a rigid target, and the impact knocked him off balance. Before he could recover, she gave him a hard shove backwards. He fell onto his butt awkwardly.

"Good," Aaron said. "Your best weapon is always your brain. Don't forget that lesson."

Tawni smiled. It was a minor victory, but it meant a lot to her. She wasn't a total loser.

Wesley jumped to his feet. "This is stupid! What am I doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Aaron said.

"I should be out on the battlefield. I should be meeting the enemy. Why am I just practicing when I could be fighting for real?"

"If Smythe needs help, he'll call, and he hasn't."

"This is so boring!" Wesley yelled.

There was no sympathy on Aaron's handsome face. "We have a video game system attached to the television. Do you want to play with that?"

"I can't. Video games aren't truth. They don't make sense to me."

That comment caught Tawni by surprise. She hadn't realized Wesley's gift could also be a disability.

"Then work on your math problems," Aaron said. "That seems to keep you quiet. I noticed you were doing calculus."

Wesley growled and stalked off. Aaron watched him go.

"Are you trying to drive the kid away?" Tawni said.

"I'm trying to help him grow up. I feel bad for him. He has greater responsibilities than any of us can imagine, and there is nothing we can do to help him. He has to wrestle with his destiny on his own. We're done sparring. Let's move to the shooting range. Tawni, it's time for you to learn how to shoot a gun correctly."

"Yes, sir." She was looking forward to the lesson. She couldn't ask for a better instructor.

* * *

Wesley was simmering. He hated being treated like a child, and even worse, like a prisoner. He was stuck in a concrete box with adults who didn't understand his needs. His dream of living the exciting and glorious life of a
legionnaire
was crumbling, and nobody cared.

Before his death, Wesley's father had often told him to never give up on dreams. Wesley decided he would force the issue. He would show Aaron that he was just as capable and competent as the others. Wesley would help destroy the Nonsectarians even if it meant defying Aaron's orders.

First, Wesley needed a way to escape headquarters. He didn't doubt Aaron would physically restrain him to keep him out of harm's way. Charles and his protection team were just as obnoxious. To get away, Wesley would have to sneak past some of the best security and most observant people in the world.

He smiled. It was a challenge worthy of a
legionnaire
, and it would make Aaron look like a fool.

The obvious place to start was the security booth. Wesley was hoping to find a gap in the security there. He went down the hall and knocked on the door.

"Hello!" he called. "It's me! Can I come in?"

The door opened. Jack ushered Wesley into the darkened room and closed the door.

The security control console was very impressive to Wesley. Hundreds of buttons, switches, and small displays were packed together on the broad surface. A bank of monitors showed live surveillance video. The images changed every few seconds as the system continuously scanned the interior and the exterior of the hotel.

"This is cool," Wesley said.

Jack nodded. "Do you need something from me?"

He was obviously a tough guy. With his bald head, narrow eyes, and solid build, he looked the part, but it went deeper than appearances. Wesley saw the subtle signs of a man who had fought his way out of tight spots and wasn't afraid to do it again.

He saw troubling weakness, too. Jack had spent a lot of time alone in a dark room, maybe too much.

"I want to look around," Wesley said. "Please, go back to doing what you were doing."

"Don't touch anything," Jack said. "That's all I ask."

He sat in his chair and faced the monitors. Wesley could tell some kind of software was helping Jack do his job. Red circles and boxes highlighted portions of the images. Wesley recognized the sophisticated and understated touch of the twins. They were the most intelligent people he had ever met by far. God's compelling influence was making them even smarter every day.

Jack had a deck of cards in his hands. While keeping his eyes on the monitors, he rapidly shuffled and dealt. It took him half a minute to deal the entire deck perfectly. He gathered up the cards and repeated the procedure.

Wesley leaned in for a closer look. Jack was doing something very sneaky with the cards, but he was so good at it that Wesley couldn't quite see it.

"Are you cheating?"

"Card manipulation," Jack said. "It keeps my hands busy while I sit and watch."

"You're really good."

"I practice several hours a day. I know just about every card trick in the book."

"Let me see one," Wesley said.

Jack spread the cards in his hand. "Pick a card. Look at it. Put it back anywhere in the deck."

Wesley picked a card and saw it was the three of clubs. He returned it to the deck in a different location. Jack shuffled several times. Wesley watched very closely. His gift was telling him Jack was playing a trick, but Wesley's eyes weren't perceptive enough to see how it worked. The mystery delighted him.

Jack placed the entire deck on the console. "Pick up the top card."

Wesley examined the top card, and it was the three of clubs. He furrowed his brow and checked the rest of the deck. It seemed normal.

"You should do a magic show for the team."

"Entertainment isn't my thing," Jack said.

Wesley returned his attention to the control console. He was still searching for a weakness in the system.

"I overheard the argument between you and Aaron," Jack said.

He turned a knob and voices came through speakers. The security system had many microphones as well as cameras. He turned the sound back down until it was just audible.

"He doesn't understand me," Wesley said.

"He's trying to take good care of you. Maybe you should be more grateful."

"I can take care of myself. I'm not a baby."

"Sometimes you act like one," Jack said.

"Do you want to fight me?" Wesley said. "I'll win, and you know it."

"You don't understand what it means to be an adult. Even though I'm big and strong, people still look out for me. If I were in trouble, Aaron would run through a brick wall to rescue me. It's a great feeling knowing a guy like that has my back. I'm not ashamed of it."

"I just want him to take me seriously."

"I don't go out on missions," Jack said. "That's not my role. But I've never felt that Aaron doesn't take me seriously. He respects my contribution."

Wesley turned away angrily. Jack was telling the truth.

Wesley had to change the subject. "Could you show me how all this stuff works? I'm curious."

"No problem," Jack said. "I have to watch the monitors though. I'm not on a break."

He started explaining the complex controls. Wesley paid close attention as he continued to search for a gap in the security. He didn't need much of one.

"Where is my protection team?"

Jack started pressing buttons. He found Atalanta and Yvonne in an empty ballroom on the second floor. They were sparring with each other using techniques that would've killed most people. Yvonne was strong enough to throw Atalanta across the room, and Atalanta was tough enough to bounce back every time. As they fought, they spent more time in the air than on the ground.