Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7) (23 page)

Sheryl glanced at Tawni in the passenger seat. Prominent cheek bones and perfect skin made Tawni look like a piece of sculpture. Her skin color was reminiscent of fine, dark chocolate. Sheryl was still fascinated by her. Tawni's capacity for violence added spice to their relationship.

"One thing I still don't get," Sheryl said. "Sometimes God lets bad stuff happen. Other times, He gets involved. Why?"

"The twins tried to explain it to me once," Tawni said, "but I didn't really understand. I think when God intervenes, it causes some kind of damage. It's not good. The Society is supposed to do His dirty work so He can hang back and watch. When He gets busy, it means we failed."

A couple of days ago, Sheryl would've laughed at that explanation. Now it made a lot of sense.

Tawni's phone rang, and she quickly answered it. "Hello? Yes, sir. I got it. We'll meet you there." She hung up.

"What?" Sheryl said.

"Change of plans. We're supposed to meet the boss in downtown Chicago. We're going to hit Golden Spiral Investments tonight."

"What about me?"

"You're going with us," Tawni said.

Sheryl furrowed her brow. "When you say hit, what do you mean exactly?"

"We will get the information we need, one way or another."

"What if I have to kill somebody?"

"Then do it," Tawni said. "You have a gun, right?"

Sheryl shook her head.

"No? Fuck! You're a soldier now. You could get into a fight at any time. What were you planning to do? Wave your magic wand?"

"I'm not comfortable with guns."

"Get comfortable," Tawni said. "Get
real
comfortable! You're going to be carrying them for the rest of your life, and if you don't know how to use them, it won't be a long life."

Sheryl sighed. Tawni was right.

They were travelling south on the Kennedy Expressway. It was late enough in the evening that rush hour was over, but traffic was still slow. It seemed like that was always the case in and around Chicago. The city needed more freeways.

Sheryl could see skyscrapers ahead, and the Willis Tower was the most prominent. It looked like a man among boys. Light gleamed from countless windows, and she wondered how many people were working late tonight. She was very glad she had never suffered the grind of a regular job.

Tawni gave Sheryl directions into the city. Eventually, they came to a parking garage underneath a tall brown building. Sheryl drove the minivan carefully through several tight turns as she made her way into the garage. She found an open spot and parked.

She was about to get out when Tawni yelled, "Wait! You need to start doing a better job of protecting yourself. Did you look around? Were you just going to walk out like a blind fool?"

Sheryl shrugged.

"Take a few seconds to check your surroundings. Figure out where bad guys could be hiding before you expose yourself."

"You're so paranoid."

"That's what keeps us alive." Tawni glared.

Sheryl looked out the windows. Concrete pillars and other cars provided an abundance of places to hide. She realized there was potential danger all around.

"Maybe this isn't the best parking spot," she admitted.

"You think?" Tawni said. "Let's just go. The rest of the team is already waiting out there."

"I don't see them."

Tawni rolled her eyes. "They're not going to stand in the open like a bunch of dummies. Come on."

Sheryl cautiously stepped out of the van. She didn't see anybody in the area, but she knew that meant little. She looked harder. A slight movement caught her attention, and she focused on a reflection in a shiny hubcap. A person with red hair was hiding behind a car.

"Smythe!" she pointed. "I see you!"

Smythe stood up with a blushing face. He was still wearing his blue FBI suit.

"Embarrassing," Aaron said.

Sheryl spun around. He was standing directly behind her.

"Where is Marina?" she said.

"Up here," Marina answered.

She was sitting on the roof of the minivan Sheryl had driven. Marina slid off the roof and landed silently.

Sheryl shook her head in dismay. Either commander could've ambushed her easily.

Aaron gave her a blue suit. "Here is your costume. We'll stick with the FBI White-Collar Crime cover story since Tawni and Smythe are already dressed for it. Now we come to the tricky question. Who is going to lead tonight? Marina and I will be backup, so it has to be one of you three."

"Why not me, sir?" Smythe said. "I have seniority."

"This is an undercover assignment. You're a man of many extraordinary talents, but lying isn't one of them. I'm tempted to choose the woman who built a successful career on deception." Aaron looked at Sheryl. "But she has no training. Maybe in a few months, she'll be ready. It seems Tawni will be the star tonight."

"Yes, sir," Tawni said. "I'll make you proud. Sheryl, you need to change."

Sheryl climbed into the van. Putting on the suit in the awkward space was annoying, but at least she had some privacy. The blue material was cheap, thin, and scratchy.

She got out. "How do I look?"

"Much too pretty to be a fed," Tawni said.

Sheryl smiled.

"The building is across the street," Aaron said. "Silver with green windows. You want office number 771."

"Yes, sir," Tawni said.

She, Smythe, and Sheryl walked out of the garage.

The night air was warm and moist, but being close to Lake Michigan helped keep the temperature down. It had been warmer up in Wisconsin. Traffic oozed through the city streets at not much faster than a walking pace.

Sheryl looked across at the building. The architecture was an open grid made of glass and polished steel. She could see into the offices on the lowest floors. Rectangular support pillars ran from the ground straight up to the roof.

Tawni waited for a break in the traffic, and then led the team across the street. They went into a tall lobby. The interior was so air-conditioned it was chilly. Square lighting panels on the ceiling emitted stark bluish light. Tawni headed straight for the nearest elevator.

A couple of security guards at a desk looked curiously at the team. Sheryl gave them a polite and confident nod. The guards remained at their desk.

While waiting for the elevator, Sheryl noticed Smythe was frowning.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"I just feel a little... insulted," he said.

"I'm sure that wasn't Aaron's intention."

"I know, but he could've handled it more tactfully. Of course, if I'm expecting tact and sensitivity from him, it's going to be a long wait."

The elevator doors opened. Tawni pressed the button for the seventh floor. She had an intense look in her eyes, which Sheryl tried to emulate.

"I guess I need a gun," Sheryl said in a dispirited tone.

Tawni and Smythe both produced guns at once. Sheryl took them and stuffed them in the pockets of her jacket.

"Just so we're clear," Smythe said, "we're not leaving empty-handed. Tawni, your job is to convince whoever we meet to cooperate. You can be sweet, or you can be scary. Your choice."

Wisps of darkness were forming around Tawni's hands. Sheryl knew what choice she would make.

The elevator doors opened. They walked down a long hallway with white walls and square lights in the ceiling. The carpeting was an ugly yellow that looked shabby to Sheryl.

They came to office number 771. The single wooden door was closed, and there was no window. A small, yellow sign read, "Golden Spiral Investments - No Solicitors."

Tawni pounded on the door hard enough to make it rattle. Nobody answered, so she pounded again.

Finally, the door opened. A big, muscular man with a shaggy black beard glared at them with obvious suspicion. He was wearing a black button-up shirt which did a poor job of hiding a gun bulge above his belt.

"What do you want?" he said in a thick Russian accent.

Sheryl realized he was one of the Shkotovo mercenaries.

Tawni took out her wallet and flashed a badge. "We're from the FBI. Let us in."

The mercenary didn't budge.

"Did you hear me?" Tawni said loudly. "We're federal agents. Get out of the fucking way."

Her bravery impressed Sheryl. The man was much bigger and stronger than her, but she didn't seem intimidated at all.

He grunted and stepped back.

Everybody went into a small, white office. There was a reception desk, but nobody was behind it. A second man sat on a couch with a pornographic magazine in his hands. He wore a blue shirt, jeans, and black sneakers.

"Where is your boss?" Tawni said. "Who is in charge?"

"Wait here," the first mercenary said as he headed towards a door.

She grabbed his arm. "No! Just show us the way."

He looked down at her hand and snarled. She let go of him.

His partner stood up. He also had a gun bulge above his belt. Sheryl was glad she was armed, or she would be the only one without a weapon.

Tawni boldly went to the door and opened it.

"Stop!" the first mercenary said.

She went through. He chased after her. Smythe and Sheryl followed close behind.

They entered a spacious corner office with glass walls on two sides. A young man in a black T-shirt sat behind a marble desk. He had three computers and six monitors. It was an impressive setup by normal standards, but it was nothing compared to the twins' workstations.

The man stood up. "What's going on? Who are you?"

His T-shirt showed a demon kissing a naked girl. His brown hair desperately needed a trim.

"We're looking for Golden Spiral Investments," Tawni said.

"You found him."

She showed him her badge. "We're from the FBI, White Collar Crime office."

He slapped a red button on his desk. All his computers made an odd humming noise.

"What did you do?" she yelled.

Smoke began to seep out of the ventilation grills of the computers.

"I destroyed all the evidence." He crossed his arms and stood tall.

Sheryl noticed Smythe was drifting backwards towards a corner of the room. The second mercenary had entered, and both of them had angry expressions.

Tawni narrowed her eyes. "What's your name?"

"Lenny," the trader in the T-shirt said, "and that's all I'm going to tell you. Now, show me a search warrant or get out of here. This is private property."

"You're brave for a punk."

"I know my rights, and I'm not a punk. I can make more money in a day than you earn in a year."

"Dirty money," she said.

"It's still green."

"It's certainly well laundered."

He curled his lip. "I asked you to leave."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" She raised her eyebrows. "We're the FBI! We'll leave when we want to leave."

"Then I'm going. Search the office if you want. There is nothing left for you to find. I don't keep paper records. There aren't even receipts in the garbage."

He walked around the desk with his eyes towards the door. She moved quickly to block him.

"You don't understand," Tawni said in a husky voice. "We already have all the evidence we need to put you away. Ever hear of the Huhawira Casino? John Wilman is going to testify against you."

Lenny hesitated. He was trying to appear confident, but Sheryl could see fear in his eyes.

"We'll see about that," he said at last.

"We know you're just a middleman," Tawni said. "There are bigger fish out there. If you help us hook them, we'll toss you back in the ocean."

Her performance was impressing Sheryl. Tawni had all the bravado and arrogance of a real federal agent.

Lenny shook his head. "I'm not playing that game. I know what happens to snitches. The people I work for are very unforgiving. Get out of my way."

He tried to push her aside. She grabbed his arm, twisted, and bent him over. She held him in a painful arm lock.

Both mercenaries drew their guns.

Smythe moved fast. He kicked one mercenary in the leg from behind, breaking his knee. As the mercenary fell, Smythe disarmed him and dislocated his right shoulder with a single move.

The second mercenary turned towards the commotion. Smythe slapped his gun away, spun, and landed an elbow on the man's jaw. Sheryl could hear the crack from across the room. The mercenary dropped like a sack of potatoes.

The first guy tried to get up. Smythe knocked him out with a brutal kick to the face.

The fight ended five seconds after it began. Sheryl stared in astonishment.
That's how a legionnaire fights,
she thought.

Smythe quickly checked the unconscious men for more weapons.

"Lenny," Tawni said, "you're not getting rid of us that easily."

Lenny's eyes were wide open. Being hunched over in an arm lock was making his face red.

"You can't beat people up like that!"

"Of course, we can," she said. "We just did. Are you ready to talk?"

He shook his head. "I can't tell you anything."

"Why not?"

"They'll kill me, and I don't know much anyway."

"You know something." She twisted his arm and made him wince.

"This is harassment. I'll sue!"

"My partners will testify that I didn't touch you. It will be your word against ours, and we're not crooks."

Lenny clenched his jaw.

"You're not helping yourself," Tawni said. "Do you want to spend the next twenty years behind bars?"

"Better than being dead."

She grimaced with obvious frustration.

"Let me try." Sheryl stepped forward. "Let go of him."

Tawni released Lenny and backed away.

He looked at Sheryl. "What do you want?"

"We can always say you handed over evidence, even if you didn't. Your employer will try to kill you no matter what you do. You need our protection. Cooperation will keep you alive." She was proud of herself for coming up with that line. She had delivered it with just the right snarl, too.

He furrowed his brow. "You wouldn't."

"Why not?" She shrugged. "It doesn't matter to us if you get whacked, and the government will save money by avoiding a long, complicated trial."