Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8) (21 page)

"I appreciate the compliment."

"Hey," Templeton said, "if you ever want to take a nice vacation, I own a spread about fifty miles west of here. Fifteen hundred acres of pristine land. Nothing but natural grass, trees, and water the way God intended."

"What do you do with all that space?"

"Hunting and fishing. It's my own little nature preserve. After fighting in the financial trenches all week, I need a place where I can get away from it all. It's a great place. I have a big house which can handle plenty of guests."

"I'll keep that in mind," Haley said.

A Secret Service agent pressed a note into Haley's hand, which read, "Meet me in the showers." He recognized Ethel's elegant handwriting.

He looked around but didn't see her. Boreas had also disappeared.

"Excuse me," Haley said. "It was very nice meeting you."

He walked to the next room where the hockey players took their showers. Boreas was standing there. He pointed to the shower stall at the far end.

Haley went to the stall and peeked through the curtain. Ethel was waiting with a mischievous smile. She was still wearing her Secret Service costume, but she had taken off her sunglasses.

He stepped inside and closed the curtain. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"You looked bored," she said.

"So?"

She grabbed his head with a powerful grip and mashed her lips against his. He wasn't sure whether she was kissing him or mugging him. He staggered backwards into a wall, but she held on tightly.

He didn't try to push her away. Rejecting an ordinary woman's affection was dangerous. Rejecting Ethel was suicide.

Eventually, she relaxed her grip and stepped back. His lips felt bruised.

"Still bored?" she said.

Haley shook his head. "That was the worst kiss of my life. It was frightening and painful, not tender."

"I'm a little out of practice." She frowned.

"Let me show you."

He swept her up in his arms and gave her a proper kiss. It went on for a good long time. Holding a woman felt wonderful after so many months alone. She melted against his chest.

He released her and said, "Wasn't that better?"

"Much." She straightened her clothes.

"I should get back out there, or people will start to talk."

"I might need another kissing lesson later tonight."

He nodded. "I'll be happy to be your instructor."

Whistling to himself, he went back to his waiting fans.

* * *

Questions were tormenting Aaron. He still had no idea how an incompetent outfit like Pure America had smuggled dynamite into the arena. He had even less of an idea of what they had intended to do with it. That damn impact trigger was a thorn in his side. It made no sense.

Aaron was on the floor of the United Center. Thousands of delegates sat on temporary plastic chairs all around him. The regular seating rose up majestically on all sides of the oval stadium. Every seat was in use, all the way up to the top row near the ceiling.

He was dressed as an FBI agent, which was the perfect choice in camouflage. Federal agents were everywhere. He could hardly spit without hitting one. He was standing in full view of the crowd with a gun in his holster, and nobody had given him a second glance.

Norbert and Tawni were also on the floor and wearing similar costumes. The three Spears were arranged in a wide triangle so they could watch all directions at once.

As Aaron had expected, the speeches had been long and tedious. Vice President Darrow was almost at the end of the second speech of the night. He was a tall gentleman with distinguished gray hair. He had the appearance of a traditional elder statesman which lent credibility to the Haley/Darrow ticket. His deep voice had a soothing cadence.

"We are a nation of do-ers," Darrow thundered. "We measure ourselves by what we make with our hands, our minds, and our hearts. We need a President who values accomplishment like the rest of us..."

The nagging questions continued to rattle around in Aaron's skull.
Lighting technician. Impact trigger. Incompetent. Dynamite.
He grabbed a handful of his own hair and yanked it in frustration.

His eyes widened. Suddenly, he understood. The truth was obvious.

Aaron looked at the lighting panels above the main stage. Colored floodlights were arranged in ten by ten grids. The glare made him shade his eyes.

A single light directly above the podium was off.
There it is,
he thought.
The bastards almost fooled me. I'm dealing with a sneaky adversary.

He grabbed his phone and called Ethel.

"Ma'am," he said, "I'm about to detonate a bomb."

"Why?" she said.

"No time to explain. Norbert and Tawni are here. Manage them, please. I'll be under arrest."

"But..."

Aaron hung up. He spotted Haley beside the main stage. As soon as the Vice President finished his speech, the President would join him for a congratulatory hug. Aaron had maybe thirty seconds to save their lives.

He drew his pistol. Hitting a four-inch target at this range with iron sights was going to take all his skill.

He fired. The first bullet struck the wrong floodlight. A few sparks and pieces of broken glass rained down. He was using a suppressor, so the gunshot went unheard in the noisy environment, but the people around him saw him fire his weapon. They started yelling at once.

Haley was climbing up the steps to reach the stage.
Fifteen seconds left,
Aaron thought.

He sighted down the barrel for his second shot. This one had to count.

He pulled the trigger.

The flash of orange light startled him. A shockwave slapped his chest hard enough to rattle his body. The sharp boom left his ears ringing.

He made an instant damage assessment. There was a lot of flying debris, but the fire hadn't burned anybody. He judged the casualties would be minimal. There might be a few unlucky deaths in the audience. If the bomb had dropped as intended, the carnage would've been much worse. Most importantly, he had saved the President's life.

Aaron looked around and saw federal agents converging from all directions. He dropped the gun and raised his hands in surrender.
Arrested twice in the same day,
he thought.
This is becoming a habit.

* * *

President Haley was walking across the stage when the world exploded. Concussive force stunned and partially deafened him. It was like being struck by an invisible sledgehammer.

He looked up. A chunk of metal debris started falling straight towards him. A slim figure flashed through the air and kicked the debris out of the way. Startled, he looked at his savior. Ethel had landed in a three-point stance.

"Move!" she bellowed. He could barely hear her over the ringing in his ears.

The command spurred Haley into action. He headed towards the nearest stairway that would get him off the stage. He hadn't gone far before Secret Service agents swarmed over him. Strong men rushed him down to the floor and through an exit tunnel. He barely had a chance to walk on his own feet.

As he left the arena, he glanced over his shoulder. It was a scene of utter chaos as the entire audience tried to flee at once. They were crawling over each other to reach the exits.

People were yelling orders all around, and it didn't seem like anybody was listening. Haley had no idea where he was being taken. He was jostled on all sides as the Secret Service rushed him through the halls. Eventually, he ended up in some office in the United Center.

Chicago Bulls memorabilia was all around. Four signed basketballs were in a trophy case. Photographs of championship teams hung on the walls. There were shoes, hats, jerseys, and even a pair of red shorts with the number 23 on them.

Haley tried to calm down and catch his breath. He seemed to be safe. Several agents were in the office with him, and more were just outside. He heard yelling and rapid footsteps in the corridor.

He noticed Ethel and Boreas weren't in the room. Haley wanted their protection most of all.

George Seferis burst into the office. "Sir! Are you all right?"

"Fine. Just a little shaken up. What happened?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Was anybody killed?" Haley said.

Seferis shrugged. "It's a total mess out there. Impossible to get an accurate casualty assessment."

He was wearing a radio earpiece like the rest of his Secret Service agents. He put his finger on the bud and listened for a moment.

"What is it?" Haley said.

"An FBI agent was shooting at the lights when they exploded. We think he set off the bomb."

"Why?"

"I don't know, sir," Seferis said. "He's being held for questioning."

Ethel and her bodyguard entered the office. She had a deeply troubled expression.

"Do you know anything about this?" Haley demanded.

She nodded. "I'm afraid I do. Mr. Seferis, take us to your prisoner so we can hear the explanation together."

"He'll talk to you?" Seferis said.

"I should think so. I'm his boss."

Haley stared at Ethel in disbelief.

Seferis gathered his Secret Service agents into squads. Everybody went back into the hallway with Haley in the center of the group. They travelled in a more dignified manner this time, and he was allowed to walk on his own feet. The agents pushed other people out of the way to make a path.

The chaos had already started to subside. The crowd was streaming out of the building at a quick walk instead of a run. Haley didn't see any injuries besides minor cuts and bruises, but everybody was scared.

Eventually, Haley was ushered into a large exercise room. Free weights were lined up along one wall, and a heavy bag hung on a chain. Bare fluorescent bulbs provided stark white light. Mirrors made the space seem twice as big.

A mix of Secret Service and FBI agents were standing around. They snapped to attention when the President entered the room.

The prisoner was sitting on the concrete floor with his hands cuffed behind his back. Haley was shocked to find the prisoner was none other than Aaron. One side of his face was bruised, and that eye was a little puffy. He didn't seem anxious. Rather, he was smiling proudly which Haley couldn't understand at all.

Ethel stood before Aaron and said, "Explain."

"Yes, ma'am. That bomb was set to drop onto the stage and explode on impact. It would've killed the President, the Vice President, and God knows how many other people. I only had a few seconds. There wasn't time to clear the area. I had to detonate the bomb before it fell."

Seferis came over and yelled, "You want us to believe you're some kind of hero?"

Aaron looked at him with disdain. "Yes, and a thank you would be appropriate."

"Not in a million fucking years."

"How did you know about the bomb?" Ethel said.

"I realized Pure America was just a scapegoat," Aaron said. "They were the obvious culprits. A much more competent enemy was supplying needed help, such as smuggling in dynamite. The idea was that we would blame Pure America for the bombing while the real perpetrators got away clean."

"Who is this other enemy?"

"I wish I knew, ma'am. I also realized they couldn't trust Pure America to get the job done. Our mysterious enemy planted a second bomb as insurance. I would've done the same. And the best time to use it was when President Haley walked on stage tonight. Nobody was expecting an attack."

Haley was starting to believe Aaron. The man certainly sounded confident, and his explanation had some sense to it. If he were telling the truth, he really was a great hero.

"Except for you," Ethel said. "What was the trigger for the drop?"

"Maybe a radio remote," Aaron said, "or somebody in the rafters pulling a string. Those details are unimportant. What matters is our enemy is still out there, and we haven't even begun to identify him. I need to start working on that problem immediately, ma'am. I can't stay here."

She studied her subordinate for a moment. Then she turned to Haley and said, "Release him."

"You must be joking," he said.

"I'm satisfied with his explanation. In my opinion, he acted properly, even brilliantly." She crossed her arms. "Let him go."

"Do you understand what just happened?" Haley pointed at Aaron. "He detonated a large bomb in the middle of the Democratic National Convention on live television. People were hurt. Probably a few were killed. He endangered tens of thousands of lives! It doesn't matter whether he acted properly or not. He has to answer a lot of questions."

She took off her sunglasses. Her black pupils were as large as pennies. "My people answer my questions and nobody else's. Let him go."

Haley shook his head. "You're asking for the impossible. I'm sure this news is already making international headlines, and we have the man responsible. Besides, if he's truly a hero, he has nothing to worry about."

"Roy, I can't allow you to hold him captive."

The warning tone in Ethel's voice gave him pause. He looked around to make sure he had numbers on his side. There were about twenty FBI and Secret Service agents in the room, all well-armed and alert. More were just outside the door, and there were hundreds in the building.

Ethel walked over to Boreas and whispered in his ear. Her bodyguard nodded solemnly.

"Don't even think about it," Haley said. "There is no way you can fight your way out of here. I know you have amazing abilities, but you're surrounded by an army of federal agents."

"And I don't want to fight them," Ethel said. "Those fine men and women aren't my enemy. You're the one who is forcing my hand. You're putting their lives at risk. For the last time, I'm begging, don't make me do this."

He shook his head. "I can't just cut a guy loose because he tells a convincing story. Unlike you, I follow the rules. People who blow up bombs have to stick around and answer for it. I'm sorry."

"So am I." She looked at the floor with a forlorn expression.

"Now, ma'am?" Aaron said.

She nodded once.

He wrenched his arms around and spat at his handcuffs. Yellow, sticky goop struck the metal and began to dissolve it immediately. Haley couldn't believe his eyes. The liquid was some kind of super-acid. Seconds later, Aaron was on his feet and his hands were free.