Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8) (24 page)

Aaron nodded. "You can come."

"No, thank you, but I expect Tawni will have a grand time. That woman still has some anger management issues."

"One other thing. There is a stolen National Guard helicopter on the roof. Tell Nancy it needs to be taken apart and destroyed, but she can keep useful parts. I have to go."

Aaron jogged back to his office, but Perry wasn't at his workstation. Aaron looked around in confusion.

Perry ran in carrying a sheaf of papers in one hand and a new phone in the other. "Here you are, sir. Hot off the printer." He gave both items to Aaron.

Aaron inspected the documents. They looked like federal prison transfer forms and even included proper signatures. The cell had a special machine that could hold a pen and reproduce any person's handwriting perfectly.

Aaron turned his attention to his new phone. It was slightly thinner than the old one.

"New model?"

"Yes, sir," Perry said. "Longer battery life, better security. There is one cool new feature. It can unlock certain kinds of electronic locks by transmitting a radio pulse."

"Sounds useful. I'll read the manual later. Stay at your workstation until I get back. I may still need your help tonight."

Aaron hurried out of his office. He went back up to the dark rooftop and looked around. Only Boreas was there.

"Where is everybody?" Aaron said.

"Still gathering the implements of torture," Boreas replied.

He was standing by the blue helicopter that Aaron normally flew. It was big, sleek, and fast. It could carry four passengers in back and had plenty of cargo space. A secret compartment contained spare weapons.

Aaron sighed. "Whew. What a day." He allowed himself to relax for a moment.

"Indeed."

"I don't know much about you. Do you mind telling me a little about your background? How did you get that amazing gift?"

"You could say cold has always been in my blood," Boreas said. "Before I joined the Society, I was an arctic wildlife research scientist. I studied how animals survived the long dark winters up north. I even lived with the Inuit people for a few years. The cell in Yellowknife, Canada recruited me. They have the largest territory of any cell in North America: two million square miles."

"Impressive. What's the smallest?"

"Washington, DC. That team is responsible for watching the United States government only. It's a big enough job for a whole team."

Aaron nodded. "How did you get your gift?"

"It happened five years ago. An enemy of God convinced a battalion of Russian soldiers to attack Canada and start a war. They came across in boats during the night. Most of my team wasn't in a position to respond. It was just me and one other
legionnaire
against six hundred Russian troops in full battle gear. We had the advantages of skill, darkness, and surprise. God gave me another one: the ability to use cold as a weapon." Boreas smiled grimly. "The polar bears feasted for weeks. You can probably still find frozen bodies on the tundra, at least parts of them."

"I'm jealous. My gift is wimpy in comparison."

"I'd much rather be you than me."

Aaron drew back in surprise. "Why?"

"A widely respected commander and one of the legate's favorites," Boreas said. "Your team worships you. I can see it in their eyes. I'm just a thug with exceptional talents."

"I'm sure you're more than that. The legate wouldn't pick a mere thug to be her bodyguard."

Ethel, Tawni, and Norbert came up the stairway to the roof. Norbert was carrying a gray canvas duffle bag, and it made a metallic clanking noise when it moved. Aaron wondered what props Ethel had chosen for tonight's entertainment.

The whole group climbed into the blue helicopter. Aaron was the pilot again, and Ethel took the co-pilot's seat.

"I know you can fly an airplane, ma'am," he said, "but are you also a helicopter pilot?"

"I'm sure I can figure it out if I have to." She smiled. "It doesn't look hard, and I'm a quick learner."

"Ah."

Aaron started the engines. The whine of a jet turbine was like the voice of an old friend. He loved this helicopter. He pulled the collective, and the aircraft leapt quietly into the sky.

He made a wide circle around the mess near the United Center as he headed towards downtown Chicago. Even from miles away, he could see hundreds of flashing red, blue, and yellow lights. The traffic jam had hardly budged. No doubt the feds were still searching for him.

He approached the Chicago Metropolitan Correctional Center at a low altitude. The tall, narrow prison had a very distinctive architecture. The footprint was a right triangle, as if a regular building had been cut in half along a diagonal. The exterior walls were made of unpainted, thick concrete all the way up to the roof. Narrow slot windows were placed at seemingly random intervals.

Aaron spotted a parking structure just to the south of the prison. It was difficult to fly a helicopter in a stealthy manner, but he did his best. He touched down on the exposed, top floor of the structure. Only a few cars were there, so he had plenty of room to land. He immediately killed the engines.

"If it's all right with you, ma'am," he said, "I'd like to send Norbert and Boreas to fetch Olaf. He knows my face, so I can't go, and he might react badly if a black woman came for him."

"Fine," Ethel said.

Aaron gave the transfer papers to Boreas.

"We'll be back soon," Boreas said.

He and Norbert hopped out of the helicopter and jogged off.

Aaron stepped onto the parking lot and looked up at the sky. City lights made low lying clouds glow orange. No stars were visible.

Ethel and Tawni also got out. Tawni began to stretch her arms and back. Nobody had had time to exercise for the last few days, and she was probably feeling it.

"Attack me," Ethel said.

"Ma'am?" Tawni said.

"We have a few minutes. We might as well put them to good use. Try your hardest to knock me out."

Aaron smiled. He had sparred with Ethel many times and knew how this fight would go.

Tawni gave Ethel a fearful look. "Can I warm up at least?"

"Quickly," Ethel said.

Tawni hurried through a routine of stretches and calisthenics. Aaron could see the impatience on Ethel's face. She hated to wait.

"Enough," Ethel said. "Attack me now."

"Yes, ma'am," Tawni said.

She came at the legate with a flurry of punches and kicks. Tawni's martial arts abilities had improved dramatically since she had joined the Society. With her long legs and natural athleticism, her kicks looked almost elegant. Aaron wouldn't call her an expert, but she was skilled enough to defeat most ordinary opponents.

The legate wasn't an ordinary opponent. She dodged each attack with casual ease. Tawni used a variety of tactics, but it was like trying to hit fog. Just touching the legate required a great deal of talent and cleverness. Defeating her was beyond even Aaron's abilities.

"Don't get frustrated," he cautioned. "That leads to stupid mistakes."

"Yes, sir," Tawni said with a clenched jaw. "Do you have a suggestion?"

"Have fun."

Tawni charged forward and leapt with her leg extended in a kick. Ethel grabbed Tawni's foot and flung it sideways. Tawni spun like a helicopter in the air. She landed badly, stumbled, and fell onto her hands.

"That wasn't fun," she muttered.

"Get up," Ethel said, "and try again. Don't be so aggressive. You're rushing into your attacks without a plan."

"Yes, ma'am. Aaron tells me that all the time. I'd really like to see you fight him instead."

Ethel shook her head. "I'm enjoying my time with you. It's like meeting the daughter I never had."

Aaron watched the two women go back and forth on the parking lot. Tawni eventually settled down and got into a rhythm. She still couldn't hit the legate, but at least the misses looked good. Ethel didn't bother to hit back. She seemed content with dancing in the darkness.

About twenty minutes later, Boreas and Norbert returned with Olaf held between them. Olaf wore a red prison jumpsuit, and his hands were cuffed behind his back. His long, red hair desperately needed to be combed. His lower lip was swollen and cracked.

Olaf stared at Aaron. "Rip?"

"The name is Aaron, and just so we're clear, we're not friends. I hate everything about you. This is Ethel. She's your worst fear: a powerful black woman. She'll be your interrogator this evening."

"Interrogator? What's going on? Who are you?"

Ethel walked up to Olaf with a cruel smile. He stood tall and tried to appear aloof.

"Tie him to the outside of the helicopter," she ordered. "That piece of shit isn't riding inside with me."

* * *

Tawni was bubbling with excitement. She was about to see Ethel torture the shit out of a guy who really needed it.

Olaf was kneeling on the dirt with his hands behind his back. His wrists were bound with barbed wire, and a few of the spikes had pierced his skin. He was completely naked. His neck was chained to a stake in the ground, which prevented him from standing up. There was just enough slack for him to kneel with his head bowed.

Ethel stood in front of him, but everybody else was well back. This was her show.

The interrogation was taking place in an empty field south of Chicago. A slow-moving river gurgled nearby as the water made its way to Lake Michigan. Weeds and brush covered the rest of the landscape. Tawni could see the headlights of cars on a highway in the distance. It was a cool, misty night.

Ethel held two long, aluminum rods in her hands. She was spinning them with her fingers so quickly they were humming in the air.

"You want my people to become slaves again," she said in a soft voice. "You want to turn back the wheels of social progress and justice. You want to oppress us. Tonight I'll teach you how it feels to be a slave."

"Fuck you," Olaf growled.

"Imagine you've been working in the cotton fields. Your muscles ache from the hard labor. There is pain in your knees from bending and lifting all day."

A rod lashed out like a lightning bolt and struck his right knee. The blow sounded like a baseball bat hitting a ball. Olaf cried out and fell onto his side.

"Pain in your feet from standing on hard dirt," Ethel said.

She struck again and mangled the toes of his right foot.

"Your shoulders and your elbows," she added.

Olaf suffered a smashed collar bone and a fractured elbow. The attacks were too quick for Tawni's eyes to follow. He already looked like he had been in a car accident.

"And it's not just your joints," Ethel said. "There is pain in your belly from a poor diet."

She struck his stomach so hard his whole body moved. He wheezed.

Her eyes gleamed. "Of course, this is before modern dentistry. A man your age will have lost most of his teeth by now."

She cleaned out his front teeth with a vicious whack to the face. He coughed and spat blood.

Ethel walked over to Boreas and gave him the rods. He gave her a piece of thin, steel cable clamped to a wooden handle.

"The slave experience wouldn't be complete without the feel of the master's whip," she said. "Unfortunately, there wasn't time to get a real whip. This will have to do."

She returned to Olaf. She reared back and laid the steel cable across his thighs. It left a red welt that hurt just looking at it. He screeched. She struck five more times, decorating his body with long stripes. By the time she was done, he was weeping from the pain. He lost control of his bowels.

Tawni was impressed. This was more than just torture. It was an actual history lesson.

"I think you're finally starting to appreciate how my ancestors suffered," Ethel said, "but that isn't the only reason we're here. Aaron has a few questions."

Aaron walked over and knelt before Olaf. "I know you weren't working alone. You had help with the assassination attempt. Who helped you?"

"Nobody." Olaf shook his head.

"You're a bad liar."

"I won't talk," Olaf said with a lisp because of his missing teeth.

Aaron stepped back.

Ethel turned to Tawni and said, "Darling, I shouldn't hog all the fun. Would you like to take a turn?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Tawni said excitedly.

Ethel handed over the crude whip. Tawni noticed her hands were cloaked in flowing, black mist. Her shadows were just as excited as she was. She gripped the wooden handle tightly.

Her first attempt was a clumsy failure. She did more damage to the ground than Olaf. It was hard to get the distance and timing right. She tried again and again, getting more accurate each time. Soon, she was drawing screams of agony from her victim. Fiery red welts crisscrossed his skin.

Her shadows began to flow along the steel cable. She didn't understand what was happening. She stepped back abruptly, and the darkness retreated.

"Why did you stop?" Ethel said.

"My shadows were acting strange, ma'am," Tawni said.

"Try it again. Let me see."

"No!" Olaf cried. "Please, no!"

"Feeling talkative, yet?" Aaron said.

"It was Jed! It was always Jed. He came up with the plan. He designed the bomb. He smuggled the dynamite."

"Does Jed have a last name?"

Olaf shook his head. "I don't know."

"Where did you meet him?"

"A bar. He bought me drinks."

"Do you know why?" Aaron said. "Did he explain his motives?"

"No," Olaf said. "He just wanted to help me kill the President. I was good with that."

Aaron narrowed his eyes. "Let me get this straight. A total stranger gave you the means to perform a high-level assassination for no obvious reason. He even provided the necessary plans and materials. Did it ever occur to your puny, redneck brain that this was suspicious?"

"Well..."

"Jed set you up," Aaron said. "You're the fall guy, the mark. He should be lying here in his own shit, piss, and blood, not you. How do I find him?"

Olaf hesitated.

Aaron grabbed the whip from Tawni and snapped it across Olaf's face. The hard blow tore off the top of his ear.