Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7) (39 page)

"Noted."

"Are we done?" Cantrell said. "I have to go to the airport in four hours. I'm trying to get as much sleep as possible."

The phone clicked.

Cantrell hung up. He laid back in bed and stared up at the ceiling.

His beautiful, golden casino was gone. For the first time in many years, he felt a tear on his cheek. He didn't know whether the cause was sadness or fear.

* * *

Aaron woke up when he sensed somebody in his bedroom. He cracked open his eyelids. Two identical women were standing at the foot of his bed. Their eyeballs glowed faintly in the darkness.

He turned on the light and saw Bethany and Leanna. Smoky gray metal encased their hairless heads down to their shoulders, but the metal seemed to have some flexibility. From the shoulders down, they still had natural skin. Black crystalline spheres without pupils filled their eye sockets. The glow had come from deep within those spheres. The girls stood side-by-side in exactly the same relaxed position to form a perfectly symmetric pair.

"It's good to see you up and about," Aaron said. "How are you feeling?"

"Intelligent," Bethany replied. Her voice consisted of the pure notes and clicks of a pipe organ. It didn't sound the least bit human.

"That's good, I suppose. What did God do to you?"

"He enhanced our mathematical abilities."

"I think He did more than that," he said. "You look like robots. Do you still have human brains?"

The twins stood without moving, blinking, or exhibiting any emotion. Their bizarre eyeballs unsettled Aaron. He couldn't tell which way they were looking.

"No, sir," Bethany said. "Our skulls contain no organic components." Her synthesized voice didn't ease his discomfort.

"Are you ready to work?"

"We're already working."

"How?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Electromagnetic interfaces allow us to interact with our workstations remotely."

"Oh, right, you're wireless now. That was a cute trick with the phone."

Norbert walked into the bedroom. He had been sleeping with the girls in the guest quarters. He wore a gray bathrobe, and his curly, brown hair was a mess.

He gave both girls a hug at the same time. "You're finally awake! I was so worried."

"We're very happy to see you, too," Bethany said without showing any happiness.

"I imagine you're a lot smarter now, but can you still feel emotion? How different are you?"

"We have capacity for only one emotion: love."

"Oh." He furrowed his brow. "I suppose if you have to pick one, that's a good one. I'm still your boyfriend?"

"Yes. God wants our relationship to continue in its current form. He preserved our sexual functions."

Norbert appeared thoughtful.

"I need you to help me capture Neville Cantrell before he gets away," Aaron said.

"It will be done, sir," Bethany said, "but after the enemy is neutralized, we have to focus all our efforts on the project. We must hurry."

"Why?"

"The power cells in our skulls will run out of energy in six months. If the project isn't complete by that time, we'll shut down permanently."

"You can't just plug in and recharge?" he said in a half-joking tone.

She shook her head.

Norbert had an expression of utter shock and dismay.

"What if the project succeeds?" Aaron said.

"We'll live much longer," Bethany said.

"How much longer?"

"Greatly exceeding a normal human life-span."

He nodded. "Good. Are you hungry? Do you need anything before you get started?"

"Our bodies are depleted and dehydrated. Norbert, can you feed us?"

"Yes," Norbert said, "of course. Go into the kitchen. I'll be there in a moment."

The twins left. Aaron got out of bed and wrapped a sheet around his naked body. He walked over to Norbert, who still appeared sad.

"Six months." Norbert gazed at the floor.

Aaron patted him on the shoulder. "Have a little faith. I'm sure they'll succeed, and then you'll be together for 'greatly exceeding a normal human life-span.'"

"What do you think she meant by that?"

"I'm not sure. It didn't make much sense. Her body is still human. I expect it will still grow old."

Norbert pursed his lips.

"Regardless," Aaron said, "your job is to take care of them, and it's an important job. You'd better get on it."

"Yes, sir." Norbert left.

Aaron's shoulders sagged. He shared the responsibility for protecting the twins with Norbert. God wouldn't forgive Aaron if two of the most important beings in the universe got hurt on his watch.

As if I weren't under enough pressure,
he thought.

The good news was Aaron was about to close the book on the Cantrell case. If Bethany and Leanna were back in the game, it was effectively over. Using the twins to squash Cantrell was like using a sledgehammer to kill a mosquito.

* * *

"Nine first class tickets to San Diego," the ticket agent said. "That will be 16,282 dollars, sir."

Cantrell gasped before handing over his credit card. He had expected the last second booking to be expensive, but sixteen grand was ridiculous.

While the agent processed his card, he looked over his shoulder at the crowd in O'Hare Airport. Travelers were coming and going in waves despite the early hour of the morning. Cantrell was taking the first flight of the day. He searched the faces for possible threats. He didn't see anything suspicious, but it was hard to be certain with so many people around.

The agent began to check their luggage. Cantrell had four women and four bodyguards with him. It was an awkwardly large group, but he couldn't leave any of his beautiful slave girls behind. The bodyguards weren't optional either. Konstantin had demanded that Cantrell have plenty of "protection" until his bills were paid. They had thirteen bags between them.

Finally, the processing was complete. With a cheerful smile, the ticket agent handed over a packet. "Your boarding passes, sir. Gate C-12."

Cantrell double-checked the boarding passes. He instantly spotted a problem.

"Hey, I booked the 8 AM flight."

"Yes, sir," the agent said.

She was a short, stout woman with curly, blonde hair. A pink veil was tied around her neck.

"These say 2 PM," Cantrell said.

The agent took back the packet. She flipped through the passes and frowned. "I'm sorry. I'm absolutely sure I put in the right flight number. The computer must've had a glitch."

"Fix it. I'm not hanging out in the airport for seven hours because of a glitch."

The agent typed on her computer for a minute. Her frown became more severe.

"Is there a problem?" Cantrell said.

"This thing is really giving me trouble, sir. The computer is rejecting all my requests. There is an error code, but it's just a zero. I've never seen anything like this."

"Call your supervisor."

The agent called another woman over. They spent several minutes trying different approaches. Cantrell didn't understand the technical jargon, but he could tell they weren't having any luck.

"I'm sorry, sir," the original agent said. "We'll call technical support and try to get this straightened out. In the meantime, your luggage is already checked for the 2 PM flight. Security regulations require you take the same flight."

Cantrell rolled his eyes. "Incompetent twit."

"My deepest apologies, sir. I might be able to offer you some kind of compensation. Let me see." She typed some more. "Yes! The airline will pay for a meal for you and your entire party."

"Airport food? In other words, we get to eat cheap crap for free."

"As first class customers, you're entitled to fine dining. The computer recommends the
Favoloso
. It's an Italian restaurant in the Rosemont Tower Hotel which is five minutes away. They serve breakfast. The airline will also pay for your cab fare, of course."

That idea didn't sound too bad to Cantrell. He had skipped breakfast in the rush to get to the airport. He used the web browser in his phone to look up the
Favoloso
. It had a five-star rating and rave reviews.

"Fine," he said, "but after breakfast, we're coming back. By then, you'd better have the fucking computer fixed."

"We'll do our very best, sir." She gave him some vouchers and a fake smile.

Chapter Twenty-One

Sheryl stood at the reservation desk of the
Favoloso
restaurant. She was wearing a blue skirt and vest combination which she found adorable. She loved playing dress-up and pretending to be somebody she wasn't. It seemed being a
legionnaire
would give her plenty of opportunities to do so.

A tall, handsome man with brown hair entered the restaurant. He had the chiseled features of a movie star. She recognized Cantrell but didn't let it show on her face. She just smiled vaguely.

Four women and four men accompanied him. The women were young and beautiful. They wore dresses that fell firmly into the category of "slutty." Painfully high heels forced them to walk on their toes precariously. The only positive note was they weren't wearing too much makeup. Their expressions struck Sheryl as sad and lost.

The men all had full beards and cheap suits. Precise gaits, straight postures, and puffed out chests marked them as soldiers.
Mercenaries,
Sheryl thought.
Cantrell's bodyguards. Dead men.

"Nine," Cantrell said in a grumpy tone.

Sheryl nodded. "Follow me, sir."

She led Cantrell's party through the restaurant. There were no other people in the place. Aaron had cleared out the customers and staff just a few minutes earlier.

"Where is everybody?" Cantrell said. "It's a ghost town in here."

Sheryl turned around. "It's still early, sir."

She heard clicks and hisses, the sounds of gunshots from suppressed weapons. Three of the bodyguards went down with head wounds, but the fourth was shot in the legs. He collapsed to the carpeted floor and bled profusely.
Why didn't they kill him?
Sheryl wondered.

The four women screamed and backed away from the bodies.

Smythe, Norbert, and Tawni stood up from behind tables, holding guns with smoking barrels.

Cantrell grabbed Sheryl by the hair, spun her around, yanked her head back, and pressed something sharp against her throat. She froze in fear.

"Nobody move!" he yelled. "Or the girl dies!"

Aaron walked out of the kitchen with guns in both hands.

"You're the guy who tore up my casino!" Cantrell said.

"And I'm the guy who burned it down," Aaron said. "Interesting knife. Is it plastic?"

"Invisible to airport metal detectors."

"I'll have to get one for my next flight to San Francisco. That's the problem with commercial flights. You can't travel with weapons."

Aaron stopped about five paces away from Cantrell. Both guns were aimed steadily at Cantrell's face.

"Sir?" Sheryl cried. "Don't just stand there. He's going to slash my throat. Save me!"

Aaron turned up one corner of his mouth. "You got yourself into this mess. Get yourself out."

"He grabbed me!"

"Why did you let him?"

"This isn't a good time for a lesson, sir," she said in a testy voice. "This is real."

"It's a great time. Act like a
legionnaire,
not a victim."

She snarled.
Biggest asshole in the world.

Out of the corner of her eye, she checked the surviving bodyguard. He was immobilized by his leg wounds, but Norbert and Tawni were covering him from two angles anyway.
Why are they letting him live?
Sheryl wondered.

Smythe was near the door. His job was to make sure nobody escaped. The four young women were huddled together and whimpering with fear.

Sheryl realized Aaron was serious. He wasn't going to lift a finger to help her, and neither would her other teammates.

She gritted her teeth.
I can do this. I'm not a helpless, little girl. I'm one of God's warriors.

Sheryl jammed her arm between her neck and Cantrell's hand to prevent him from cutting her throat. She snapped her head back, smashing his nose. He instinctively let go of her hair. She bit his hand with all the strength in her jaw. He cried out and dropped the knife. She ducked away before he had a chance to grab her again.

She stood back to admire her work. Blood dripped from his right hand, and he had a shocked expression.

"You see?" Aaron said. "You don't need a knight in shining armor. Next time, kick him in the balls while you're at it. Make him squeal in pain."

"Yes, sir." Sheryl smiled with pride.

"What do you want from me?" Cantrell shook his injured hand.

"Hold on," Aaron said. "You'll get your turn. Sheryl, we saved a bodyguard for you. Finish him."

Sheryl looked at the bodyguard. He was a big guy with shaggy black hair. Blood from his leg wounds was soaking into the carpet.

"But, sir..."

"Your first kill," Aaron said. "A special moment. I'm very glad we could all be here to share it. That's an order."