The Price of Disrespect (Gray Spear Society Book 6) (45 page)

"They nicked us a few times," one of the men said, "but my healers fixed us up. Tawni, you did a good job."

Tawni smiled. "Thank you, sir. I never knew being a weasel could be so satisfying."

"Who are you?" Gains said.

"Aaron. I'm the boss."

"Are you going to kill me now?"

Aaron shook his head. "Not yet. We're waiting for a special guest to arrive. He insisted on meeting you in person. I also have a surprise coming. It's an old friend you probably never expected to see again."

Gains couldn't imagine what he was talking about.

Aaron studied the thick glass partition. Gains grew excited but didn't show it. If Aaron touched that side of the glass, automatic guns would kill him instantly.

Aaron had a huge sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. He flipped it around and shot the partition. Tons of tempered glass shattered into a million fragments. The guns popped out of the ceiling as expected, but they fired at the floor uselessly. They were aiming at the spot where the rifle bullet had struck the glass.

Gains gasped as he realized he was breathing the same air as his enemies. Their germs would get into his lungs. His precious bubble had been popped. He covered his mouth with his hand and tried to breathe as little as possible.

Aaron walked across the room. "Interesting décor. Very white. Is a toilet in there? I could really use one right now."

He entered the bathroom and urinated loudly without bothering to close the door. Everybody could hear him. He didn't flush either.

He came out. "I got some on the seat. I sprayed all over your pretty tile floor, actually. I hope you don't mind the mess."

Gains was suddenly ill.

Aaron grinned in a very unpleasant way. Shadows fell across his face oddly.

"Is everybody upstairs dead?" Gains said through his fingers.

"Everybody we could find. A few stragglers got away, but we'll catch them later. It's important to always do a thorough job. Don't you agree?"

Gains was silent.

"I noticed you have a lot of very nice art," Aaron said. "It looks expensive. I'll have it all sold at public auction. The money will go to repairing the damage caused by the Chicago riots. I think I'll sell this castle, too. It should be worth a nice bundle."

"You can't do that," Gains said.

"Why not? It's just a matter of appointing the right trustee for your estate after you die. Smythe? Are you up for it?"

A man with red hair and a strong jaw nodded. "Gladly, sir. Liquidating and redistributing the Gains fortune sounds like a good hobby. I'm going to make a lot of lives a lot better."

"Just keep a low profile," Aaron said. "Anonymous donations. Don't forget the police when you're handing out lump sums. Many of Chicago's finest were hurt during the riots."

"Yes, sir. And we'll make new friends while I'm at it. It's a win-win."

This discussion made Gains even more miserable. It had taken a lifetime to build his business empire, and now they were going to hand all the money over to orphans and widows.

Aaron sighed. "Let's begin."

Without warning, he kicked Gains in the knee. Gains felt the joint snap like a dry stick. More vicious blows followed so swiftly, he became disoriented. Seconds later, his whole body was in pain. Aaron stepped back to admire his work.

Gains was left lying on the floor. His arms and legs were so horribly broken every twitch caused jolts of agony. He had suffered multiple fractures in each limb.

"Why?" he gasped.

"I didn't want to bother with tying you up," Aaron said. "This was just as effective and more fun for me."

A tall Asian woman and an old man entered. They were carrying a burlap sack between them, and it was squirming. Clearly, a person was inside the sack. A boy with brown hair brought up the rear, and he had the most beautiful face Gains had ever seen. It belonged on a movie poster. The newcomers were wearing the same peculiar black and gray body armor as the rest. The pattern seemed designed for night operations, and it reminded Gains of a tabby cat.

The boy walked over and looked down. "You must be Roger Gains."

"Who are you?" Gains remained very still to avoid aggravating his injuries.

"Wesley."

Wesley's incredible blue eyes caught the light like tiny crystals. Gains had never seen anything like it. The effect was hypnotic.

"Are you the special guest?"

Wesley nodded. "I just have one question. Why did you do it?"

Gains was about to rattle off his anarchist manifesto when something stopped him. He couldn't lie to those crazy, blue eyes. The truth bubbled up from the deep recesses of his mind.

"I like to watch things burn... like my family burned."

Wesley frowned and turned away as if disappointed. He walked into the office and looked around. Nobody else spoke. All the adults were patiently waiting for the boy to go about his business. Wesley came back out.

"Well?" Aaron said. "What's the verdict?"

"He's a pyromaniac, a sociopath, and a bacteria-phobe." Wesley seemed confused.

"What's bothering you?"

"There is a basic truth here that I'm missing. It's important. I need to think."

"Do you still want to talk to Gains?" Aaron said.

"No," Wesley said. "I'm done with him. Rascher was more interesting."

Aaron smiled in a way that made Gains queasy.

"This is what will happen," Aaron said. "We're going to leave you here. We'll lock the big door and demolish the entry, so nobody will ever find you. This room will become your permanent tomb."

"I'm going to starve to death?" Gains said in a tone of horror.

"No. Your friend in the sack will finish you first."

Aaron gave the burlap sack a swift kick. The person inside it squealed and thrashed violently.

Aaron continued, "His arms are gone. He'll have to kill you with his teeth. I expect it will take quite a while for him to chew you to death. Feel free to defend yourself, but it might be difficult in your condition. I suppose you could use your teeth, too. It's too bad I won't be here to watch."

Gains started to hyperventilate.

"After you're dead," Aaron said, "your friend will still be trapped down here. He'll have to eat your body to survive. When he gets thirsty, he'll drink from the dirty toilet like a dog. Eventually, the scraps of meat on your rotting corpse will run out. He'll starve to death slowly, in darkness, alone. He'll share your tomb."

Out of desperation, Gains tried to lift his head. "No! I don't deserve this!"

Aaron went into the office and grabbed one of the white phones from the desk. He yanked the cord out of the wall.

He came back out and said, "This will make a nice trophy, the first for my new headquarters. Good day, Mr. Gains. It's time for us to go home. We have to celebrate today's victory and Tawni's first successful mission. It should be a nice party. We'll think about you while we're enjoying ourselves."

All the members of the Gray Spear Society filed out of the room. They ignored Gains' pleas for mercy.

Aaron was the last to go, and he untied the burlap sack before disappearing.

A moment later, Gains heard the safe door slam closed. It rang like a funeral bell. The tumblers clicked as the handle was spun.

He looked over at the burlap sack. A head was emerging, and with a shock, Gains realized it was Dr. Rascher.

"Ernie?" Gains said. "Are you OK? What did they do to you?"

Rascher turned his head like a blind man searching for the source of a sound. He wasn't blinking. Something was definitely wrong with his eyes. His lower lip had been torn off. His upper body emerged, and Gains saw that his arms had been brutally amputated.

"We're friends," Gains said. "We worked together for two years. I paid you a ton of money. Calm down."

Rascher freed himself from the sack. His ankles were tied together, so he had to squirm across the floor like a worm. He grunted with each violent thrust as he approached Gains.

"Listen to me!" Gains yelled. "Whatever they did to you, it's over now. There is no reason for violence. We're men, not wild animals."

There was no intelligence in Rascher's dead eyes. The sound of Gains' voice only seemed to excite him. The doctor was covered in filth that looked and smelled like feces.

He opened his mouth.

"Ernie! Stop!"

Rascher bit Gains' arm with enough force to tear skin. Blood oozed out. Gains screamed in pain and horror.

Chapter Eighteen

Tawni was still grinning when she returned to headquarters. She couldn't imagine a more satisfying conclusion to the mission. Everybody was in such a great mood that even Atalanta looked happy.

The whole group stepped out of the elevator together. Jack was sitting in the security booth.

"Sir," he said, "you have a surprise visitor waiting in the kitchen. She wants to congratulate everybody."

The crowd suddenly became very quiet. Aaron straightened his clothes. Tawni looked around and saw uneasy expressions on several faces.
Who the hell is this visitor?
she wondered.

"Aaron?" Odelia said nervously. "What about me?"

Aaron shrugged. "She said everybody. Don't worry. I got your back."

He led the group to the kitchen.

Tawni walked in and saw a black woman in a gray suit sitting at the table. Her hair was white as snow, and there were wrinkles around her eyes. She had the lean body of a marathon runner. The bones in her face stood out prominently.

Aaron bowed slightly. "Ma'am, it's a pleasure to see you again."

The woman smiled. "I know you didn't want me to come, but I had to. I'm sorry if I'm intruding."

Tawni realized the stranger was Aaron's boss, Ethel. There was something wrong with her eyes. The pupils were enlarged and extraordinarily dark. Even though the kitchen was brightly lit, shadows clung to her skin.

A very tall man with no hair stood behind her. His skin was so pale the veins were clearly visible. He wore a blue jogging suit that fit loosely. Steel gauntlets with sharp blades welded to the knuckles protected his hands.

"Was the mission successful?" Ethel said.

"Yes, ma'am," Aaron said. "We just finished."

She looked around the room, and her gaze settled on Odelia. Ethel frowned. "Shouldn't you be in Los Angeles?"

Aaron spoke quickly, "Odelia was a great asset during the mission. She participated fully and accepted the same risks as the rest of my team. She was the perfect
legionnaire
. We were very lucky she happened to be here during this challenging time."

"I see." Ethel walked over to Odelia.

Odelia was shivering but kept her mouth shut.

"This is awkward," Ethel said. "I should be angry, but after such a strong endorsement from a highly respected commander and a close friend, that's not possible. The only solution is to pretend you're not here. As far as I know, you're still in Los Angeles. Now go away."

"Yes, ma'am." Odelia ducked and fled the room.

Tawni felt sorry for her. Odelia would miss the party.

Ethel turned her attention to Wesley. "All is well with you?"

Wesley shrugged.

"I heard you wanted to be a
legionnaire
. How did that go?"

"It was a disaster," he said.

She snorted. "Always truthful." She looked around. "I see most of your protection team, but where is Carlos?"

"Gone. The light of truth wiped out the lie that he was still alive."

"I can't say I'm sorry to hear that news."

"Ma'am." Charles came forward. "I need a replacement for Carlos. Atalanta and Yvonne are certainly very fine warriors, but the Child needs more protection than that."

Ethel nodded. She tapped her toes and looked down for a moment.

"You can have Guthrum." She faced the tall man with pale skin. "Wesley's safety is much more important than mine, and finding another bodyguard won't be very difficult. Guthrum, is that all right with you? Are you ready to protect the Voice of Truth? The entire world will be depending on you."

In a scratchy voice, Guthrum replied, "It will be an honor." He seemed to have difficulty getting the words out.

"Thank you," Charles said. "He'll do nicely."

Atalanta was staring at Guthrum with a very interested expression. Tawni wondered what made him so special.

Ethel turned back to Wesley. "What are your plans now?"

"I'll tell you in a few minutes," he said.

She raised her eyebrows.

She looked around again, and this time her gaze settled on Tawni. The legate walked over. At close range, her eyes were even more disturbing. It was like staring down the barrels of twin sniper rifles or into a dimension without light or warmth.

"And who is this lovely young woman?" Ethel said.

"My new recruit," Aaron said. "Tawni."

Ethel silently studied Tawni.

"It's an honor to meet you, ma'am," Tawni said. "They told me you grew up in Chicago, like me."

"That's right. This is my home town. When I look at you, I see myself from thirty years ago. It's remarkable." Ethel touched Tawni's cheek.

"Do you have a gift?"

Ethel moved so quickly it was like a camera trick. Suddenly, she was behind Tawni, and a knife was pressed against her throat. "Yes," Ethel whispered in Tawni's ear. Just as quickly, Ethel was in front again, and the knife was gone.

Tawni twitched in surprise.
That is a nice gift,
she thought.

Ethel smiled. "Aaron, I like her."

"I thought you would," Aaron said.

Tawni was surprised at the snap decision. "Why, ma'am? You don't even know me."

"There are two kinds of people in the Society," Ethel said. "One kind stands in God's light. For example, Smythe, the twins, and of course, Wesley. These are the teachers and the healers. They fight to protect life."

"What is the other kind?"

Ethel's pupils became even larger and blacker. "They roost in darkness. These are people like Aaron, me, and you. We kill because it's fun."

"You see that in me, ma'am?" Tawni said.

"The shadows are already gathering around you like moths to a black flame. Learn everything you can from Aaron. He will mold you into the terrifying monster you were born to be."