Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8) (20 page)

"She was showing off for you? Unbelievable." Aaron shook his head. "I've never seen her act this way."

"How many people has she killed? Tens? Hundreds?"

"Keep going."

Haley winced.

"She's a powerful force for good. She can also chop off your head in a blink. Always keep both facts firmly in mind as your relationship develops." Aaron snorted. "You're a lucky man. A woman like that can take you places."

"I'm already the President. What places are left?"

Aaron walked off with a knowing smile.

An instant later, Ethel was back at Haley's side. Her sudden appearance startled him.

"Well?" she said. "Did he tell you anything juicy about me?"

He raised his chin. "Why do you think we were talking about you?"

She pouted.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Her astonishment was priceless.

"Shouldn't you be picking pockets, Miss Pickenpaugh?" he said.

"Right." She looked around. "Pockets." She pranced away like a young girl.

Chapter Ten

Aaron walked into his office with a scowl. Perry was sitting at his workstation.

"Just the man I wanted to see." Aaron closed the door.

Perry tried to sit at attention. "What, sir?"

"How did you learn about Pure America?"

Perry turned to his computer and started typing. His fingers made the keyboard clatter.

"The FBI has a thick file on them. They were investigated three different times as a possible terrorist threat. They were one of the first names that popped up when I started searching."

"Is the FBI still monitoring them?" Aaron said.

"No, sir."

"Why not?"

Perry typed some more. He abruptly laughed like a donkey. "Here it is. 'Pure America is too stupid to be dangerous.' That's an exact quote from the final report."

Aaron smiled. "Yet those hillbillies were able to smuggle dynamite and a detonator past some of the best security in the business. They came dangerously close to killing the President. But why use an impact trigger?" He shook his head in confusion. "What am I missing?" He punched the palm of his hand in frustration.

"I wish I could help you, sir. I'm not an expert on assassination."

"What's the agenda for the convention tonight?"

Perry looked up at his computer screens. "Three speeches, just like last night. Congressman Hobbs will give the keynote. Vice President Darrow will go second. A businessman named Keller will go last. Finally, the audience will spontaneously sing America the Beautiful and We Will Rock You."

Aaron sighed at the thought of more boring speeches. "The President will appear this time. Right?"

"At the end of the second speech, Haley will shake the Vice President's hand. Then they will hug and pose for the cameras."

"That's what I remember. Pure America was planning to use the bomb at that time."

Aaron walked over to his desk and tapped his fingernails on the gray metal top. It sounded solid.

"What's wrong, sir?"

"If I knew," Aaron said, "I could fix it! I can smell the truth, but I can't see it."

He looked up, seeking inspiration from above. Pebbled tiles made of armor plate covered the ceiling.

"We already neutralized two clear threats: that assassin and Pure America. Maybe, we're done."

"No way."

"Why are you so sure?" Perry said.

Aaron faced him. "Because Wesley gave us this assignment. I've done two missions with that kid, and both involved massive bloodshed and shocking revelations. I'm betting the fun has barely begun."

Aaron's phone rang. The caller ID showed Tawni's code number. He answered it, "Report."

"Norbert and I are done with the tree huggers, sir," Tawni said. "They're crazy."

"Dangerous crazy?"

"No, but I think they want to have sex with trees. It's creepy. They talk about changing the culture of government, but they're too busy smoking weed to get off their fat asses. What's our next assignment, sir?"

Aaron looked at the pile of papers on his desk. He pushed them around distractedly.

"Tell me about what happened in the United Center today."

"We already gave you a full report, sir," Tawni said.

"Hit the highlights again," he replied in an irritated tone.

"We noticed the technician was acting suspicious around his tool chest. When he left, we investigated. I figured out the chest wasn't square, but it was so well made it was hard to tell. There was a secret compartment behind the bottom drawer."

"Sounds like something a magician would use."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Sheryl would've loved it. I chased down the technician and brought him back. Norbert convinced him to show us where the dynamite was hidden. We left after that."

Aaron looked at the shelves behind his desk. They were meant for mission trophies, and he hoped to live long enough to fill the shelves. Only two items were on display now. The first was a white phone used by billionaire Roger Gains, deceased. The second was a travel-sized monkey machine designed by Neville Cantrell. The levers and buttons were welded in place to make the game unplayable.

"Think hard," Aaron said. "There was nothing else?"

"I only saw one stick of dynamite, sir," Tawni said. "It was covered in hard plastic. Oh! I remember one thing. The dynamite was green."

"That's odd." He paced back and forth in his office.

"What are your orders, sir?"

"You and Norbert will go back to the United Center," he said. "Hang out and watch the show. I'll meet you there."

"Are you expecting an attack tonight?"

"There's no reason for one, which is why I'm so worried."

"Sometimes, you don't make much sense, sir," Tawni said.

Aaron closed his phone.

He faced Perry again. The computer expert had a small table beside his workstation. Empty soda cans and plastic wrappers littered the surface. Perry liked to snack while he worked. Aaron frowned at the sugary, salty junk food. When the mission was over, he would encourage Perry to snack on fruits and vegetables instead.

"There is one other topic," Aaron said. "Kamal."

Perry winced. "I was hoping you'd forget, sir."

"Not likely. Do you have anything for me?"

Perry's shoulders sank. "Twelve hours before the French scientists were killed, Kamal sent them an e-mail."

The statement felt like a slap in the face to Aaron. "Let me see."

Perry hit a few keys and pointed at one of his screens. Aaron leaned in for a close look. The message was packed with scientific jargon, and he could make little sense of it.

"I think Kamal wanted the scientists to experiment with a new kind of magnetic field," Perry said. "He used a false name and the e-mail is untraceable. It wasn't a security breech, at least not an obvious one."

"That doesn't sound too bad. We need Bethany to look at this."

"I'll send her a note."

A short time later, Bethany entered the office. Her black crystalline eyes reflected the light. As always, she wore a white shirt and a pleated, red skirt. He imagined her closet was full of copies of exactly the same outfit, and she wore a new one every day. It was the kind of thing she would do.

"What does this mean?" Aaron pointed to the message on Perry's screen.

Bethany looked. "Oh. This is very bad, sir. I told him this information couldn't be shared."

"Explain."

"Leanna and I are experimenting with a fusion power source. Kamal wanted to give the technology to mankind. It would provide unlimited energy and eliminate the need for fossil fuels."

"That sounds like a noble objective. Clean electricity for everybody." He raised his eyebrows. "What's the catch?"

"The design uses the principle of constructed symmetry, which is one of the secrets God taught us. That principle could be used to build a weapon."

"What sort of weapon?"

"In theory, you could detonate the sun," she said. "Only Leanna and I are allowed to know about it. The technology is strictly forbidden."

"Kamal understood this?"

"I was explicit, sir. He ignored me."

Aaron was crushed. He didn't know what to do. Kamal had made a terrible error in judgment. He had acted like a regular scientist instead of a member of the Gray Spear Society.

"I need to think about this." Aaron squeezed his eyes shut. "Damn it! You can go."

Bethany walked out.

"You, too," Aaron told Perry. "I need to be alone."

"Yes, sir." Perry left quickly and closed the door.

Aaron slouched. The weight of his responsibilities felt like a thousand pounds on each shoulder. He had never killed a member of his own team. There was a good chance Kamal had just earned the honor of being the first.

Aaron walked over to a stool in front of a gray curtain. A studio quality video camera was aimed at the stool, and a television monitor was beside the camera. It was a secure video conference system which connected to similar equipment in San Francisco. He turned everything on and sat on the stool.

For a few minutes, he stared at a blank screen. Finally, Marina appeared in the frame. Her strawberry blonde hair was blown back and wavy. Freckles dotted her flushed face. She had been exercising. The green in her eyes was gorgeous on the high-resolution display. The world was a better place whenever Aaron saw her, even if it was just a video image.

"You look upset," she said in a concerned tone. "What's wrong?"

"It's Kamal. He shared information with outsiders."

"What kind of information?"

He explained the situation.

She winced. "This is very serious."

"I know."

"Kamal is one of the old-timers. It's hard to believe he would make such a bad mistake."

He nodded sadly. "That's the problem with old-timers. They get sloppy. They lose focus. Jack got into trouble pretty much the same way. It's a lesson both of us need to remember."

"Oh, Aaron." She sighed. "I wish I could be there to comfort you. You're a great commander. You don't deserve problems like this. Maybe you should call Ethel and get her opinion."

"Conveniently, she's in Chicago. I'll talk to her tonight."

"Why?"

"She's with the President," he said. "She's protecting him."

Marina stared with wide eyes. "The President of the United States?"

Aaron nodded. "The craziest part is she has fallen in love with him."

"What?" She cocked her head. "I think we just had a glitch in the connection."

"You heard me. Grumpy old Ethel and Roy Haley are an item."

She was silent for a long moment. A smile spread across her face. "That may be the most delicious bit of gossip I have ever heard. Have they slept together?"

"I don't know," he said, "and I'm not going to ask."

"Did you give her the speech about the dangers of love?" She smirked. "How it puts everybody at risk?"

"I'll let you take that bullet, dear. Or machete in this case."

"They must be adorable together. Take a picture and post it on the internet. Draw little hearts around her face."

"You're enjoying this far too much," he said. "I love you. I have to get back to work. A little voice in my head is telling me this will be a busy night."

She kissed the air. "I love you, too. Don't beat yourself up about Kamal. It's not your fault."

"Sure." He got up and turned off the camera.

* * *

Haley sighed with boredom. He was naturally social, but three solid days of smiling, shaking hands, and earnest engagement had worn him out. The worst part was he had two more days to go. A political convention was a brutal marathon.
Part of the job,
he told himself.
You take the bad with the good.

He was in the Blackhawks locker room in the United Center again. A crowd of staffers, politicians, and selected reporters swirled around him. The Secret Service was permitting supplicants to approach one at a time. Haley didn't know how they were choosing winners, and he didn't really care.

A woman with curly, blonde hair wearing a green suit was next in line. He recognized her as a prominent reporter for a national news network. She had perfect skin and the cheekbones of a fashion model. In the business, they called those features "talent."

She held a microphone in front of Haley's face and said, "Mr. President, experts are calling your budget proposal the most important piece of legislation of the twenty-first century. They say it will redefine the federal government. How do you respond to that?"

He smiled for the cameras. "I'm just doing what the people of this great nation elected me to do. They want money going to jobs and education, not special interests."

"Are you calling the Armed Forces a special interest?"

He didn't flinch. "Our brave soldiers will still be paid. The big cuts are in procurement. We don't need any more billion dollar bombers. Just one B-2 could pay for the education of a hundred thousand children. A guided missile costs the same as retraining a hundred unemployed workers. More jobs leads to more revenue and a balanced budget. To my critics, I say, do the math." He posed for another photo.

"When do you think the legislation will be ready for your signature?"

"It should be on my desk when I get back to Washington. We've wrangled over the details for months. The Republicans tried every possible delaying tactic. I believe the will of the people has finally prevailed. Next."

The Secret Service escorted the reporter away.

A man stepped forward to take her place. He had short, gray hair and a perfect tan. He had the body of somebody who drank too much and then tried to work it off in the gym.

He shook Haley's hand with a strong grip. "I'm Bernard Templeton."

"Oh." Haley raised his eyebrows. "I've heard of you. Billionaire fund manager and noted philanthropist."

"That's right." Templeton smiled. "And a major donor to your campaign."

"An investment that will reap handsome rewards. What can I do for you?"

Haley was curious about this guy. Wealthy men normally sided with the Republicans.

"Nothing. I just wanted you to know how much I admire you. You're the first President in my lifetime that isn't a mouthpiece for partisan politics. You're a legitimate leader. It's inspiring. I can almost forgive all the new taxes in your budget."