Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7) (6 page)

"This is a special case."

He looked at the computer monitors. Alien symbols arranged in complex patterns covered the displays. He recognized the notation as "divine mathematics," and God had probably written it. Aaron had no idea what any of it meant. Apparently, even the twins were having trouble understanding it.

He nodded. "Maybe, but we still need their help with this investigation. They have to get back to work."

"Agreed," Marina said.

They climbed a staircase up to the roof. Bright sunlight and humidity made the air too warm for comfort, but at least it wasn't raining. It had been a very wet week.

She pointed to a large, blue helicopter parked in the center of the roof. "How are the flying lessons going?"

"Pretty well," he said. "I'm certified for helicopters and airplanes now. I practice three times a week. I'm sure I'm not as good a pilot as you though."

She smiled. "I'll check you out while I'm here."

He spotted the twins in the shadow of a white, metal shed. They were sitting on lawn chairs and facing each other.

Aaron walked over. In a forcibly gentle voice, he said, "What's going on?"

"We're talking, sir," Bethany said.

"About what?"

"You wouldn't understand."

She stared at him with an expression as blank as a mannequin. He had no idea what was happening behind her big, brown eyes. These days, the twins lived in their own distinct world.

Aaron took the hard drive from Balzar's computer out of his pocket and gave it to her. "There might be information about Super Double Monkey on this drive. Analyze it." He gave the invoice and some other papers to Leanna. "And you can work on this stuff. We stole this material from the general manager of Aladdin's Magic Casino. Get moving."

The girls remained seated.

"Come on," Aaron said. "Don't make me yell at you. I know how much you hate that."

"Sir," Leanna said, "we're busy right now."

"Talking?"

She nodded. "About the project."

"I'll make a deal with you," he said in a less gentle voice. "If you get me a useful lead, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day. You can talk until you're hoarse. That seems fair, doesn't it? Now go downstairs before I become upset."

Finally, the girls moved, albeit reluctantly. He followed them back to the computer room. He stalked them until they were seated at their workstations and typing on their keyboards.

Aaron and Marina stood back and watched the twins work.

"Wesley warned me this might happen," he said in a low voice. "The night before he left, he suggested I find another hacker to fill in for the twins. I didn't think it would happen this soon though."

"Maybe the situation will resolve itself," she said.

He shook his head.

Norbert walked into the room. "You got them off the roof!" he said with a grin. "Thank you, sir."

"We'll see how long it lasts," Aaron said.

"Ma'am, are you ready to spar?"

Marina nodded. "I just need fifteen minutes to warm up properly. I have a feeling this will be a serious fight."

"I want to watch," Aaron said, "but I have to send some information to Andrei first. Wait for me."

"Andrei?" Norbert said.

"Marina will explain." Aaron turned and headed towards his office.

* * *

Aaron watched with his arms crossed as Norbert and Marina faced each other from opposite ends of a blue workout mat. They wore white uniforms with gray belts. Both combatants were flushed from vigorous warm up exercises.

Tawni, Smythe, Nancy, and Kamal had come to see the show. Aaron expected Jack was also watching from the security booth.

"Go," Aaron said.

Marina shot forward. Norbert held back and assumed a defensive posture at first. She launched a flurry of violent attacks at his head, chest, and stomach. Her body contorted as she sought openings in his defense. She leapt, twisted, and spun like a demonic gymnast. He blocked most of the attacks with excellent technique and simply absorbed the rest. He was so much stronger that even when she landed a solid blow, he didn't budge. His balance was unshakable.

He showed great patience as he waited for her to slow down. She was in tremendous condition, but she couldn't put out maximum effort forever. It was just a matter of time before it was his turn.

Abruptly, she backed away. "You're not making this easy." She took deep breaths as she tried to get her wind back.

He charged forward. She dropped and tried to trip him. He leapt and somersaulted in the air to evade the technique. She tried to roll to her feet. He bounced, flew backwards, and struck her with his forearm. She was knocked to the mat, face down. He landed on top of her and pinned her down. He immediately locked up her arms before she could escape.

"Ugh! You win!" she yelled.

He stood up and helped her to her feet. Everybody in the room applauded.

Marina was bent over as she tried to recover. "You're getting better, and I'm growing older."

"Want to go again?" Norbert said eagerly.

"No."

Aaron walked over and pounded Norbert on the shoulder. "Good job."

"Thank you, sir." Norbert grinned. "That's the first time I've beaten her."

"Enjoy the accomplishment. You earned it. Now let's do our
tabella
studies while we wait for the twins."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Aaron and Norbert sat side by side in the conference room. Aaron was wearing the elaborate gray robes of a Society commander. Norbert had also put on his formal robes, but his were plainer. When working with the
tabella
, dignified attire was appropriate.

Two books were lying open on the huge oak table. One was the first volume of the
tabella
. It contained the secret historical record of the Gray Spear Society spanning the years 500 AD to 504 AD. There were ten chapters, each describing six months of missions, investigations, and anecdotes. Aaron and Norbert were working on chapter two.

The second book was a Latin-English dictionary. All of the
tabella
were written entirely in Latin, even the modern volumes. A new book was published every five years, and when the next one came out, Aaron expected to see his own stories told in that ancient language.

"You've seen this word before, sir," Norbert said. "
Ignis.
It's the root of an English word with a similar meaning."

Aaron rubbed his temples. "
Ignis.
Ignite. Fire."

"Correct."

Aaron wrote the word on a piece of paper. He was struggling through the process of translating a sentence to English. He and Norbert were taking turns doing one sentence at a time. Norbert had had real instruction in Latin during his years as a monk, so his turns were much quicker.

Aaron read the next word. "
Petimus
."

"I'll give you a clue," Norbert said. "It's a third conjugation."

Aaron grunted with annoyance. He was slowly acquiring the basic vocabulary of Latin, but conjugation was his nemesis. He still didn't understand deponent verbs or the imperfect subjunctive mood. Every rule had a long list of exceptions. The language seemed designed to cause madness.

"Let's see. Imus is the first person plural suffix of the, uh, present active..."

"Indicative," Norbert said.

"And the root word is
petō,
which means to seek."

"Or to attack."

Aaron wrote down "we attack."

Marina entered the conference room and sat across from them. "Having fun, guys?"

"Feel free to join the party," he said.

"I wouldn't want to slow you down."

"Don't worry about that. Besides, as a commander, it's your obligation to study the
tabella
. You know what they say. If you read all the books, you'll understand God."

"I've heard that," she said. "Unfortunately, the San Francisco cell lost its
tabella
when the headquarters was overrun. They won't be replaced until we move into our new permanent facility, so I'm afraid my studies will have to wait for quite a while." She pouted.

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that the only issue? I'll loan you a volume or two so you can get started right away. There's no need to wait."

"Oh, I couldn't take one of your
tabella
back with me on a commercial flight. That would be a huge lapse in security."

"Then I'll send one by special courier. Those guys love delivering important documents. In fact, I'll make the arrangements tonight. You can have the last volume. Some of your early missions might appear in it. Don't you want to see your name in print?"

Aaron and Marina stared at each other for a moment.

"That would be lovely," she said in an unhappy tone. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." He smiled.

Bethany walked into the conference room with a piece of paper in her hands. "We have a lead, sir."

Aaron turned to her. "What is it?"

"A shipment of three Super Double Monkey machines will be delivered tomorrow morning to Aladdin's Magic Casino. You should be able to intercept it. All the details are here." She handed over the paper.

"Excellent."

"May we go back up to the roof, sir?" she asked in her soft, polite voice.

His shoulders sagged. "Yes. That was the deal."

She left.

Norbert checked his watch. "You kept them down here for an hour, sir."

"Not long enough." Aaron sighed.

Norbert's face drooped with sadness. He loved the twins, and their recent misbehavior was torture for him.

Aaron looked at Marina. "Seriously, did you come to learn some Latin?"

"I came because I'm annoyed," she said. "The
tabella
will be here for the rest of your life. I'm here for two days. Pay attention to me, not those books."

"That's fair. What do you want to do?"

"Sex, a nice dinner, and more sex, in that order."

He snorted. "Sheryl will be here at eight."

"That gives us plenty of time." She walked around the table and grabbed his hand. "Come on. Seeing you in those handsome robes is arousing me."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"Enjoy, sir," the waiter said.

He placed a twenty-ounce steak in front of Aaron. A few small potatoes and asparagus spears were shoved to the edge of the plate, but they were just for show. The meat was the meal.

Marina received a "petite" fourteen-ounce steak. That left more room on her plate for decorative but useless side dishes.

She immediately sliced off a chunk of meat and shoved it into her mouth. "Mmm. You can't get this in San Francisco." Her eyes rolled back.

"But they have great food there," Aaron said.

"Every kind of ethnic food under the sun. There must be a thousand Asian restaurants. But if you just want a politically incorrect slab of beef, you're out of luck."

He dug into his own steak. The meat was so tender and juicy he could almost cut it with a fork. As he chewed, he looked around the restaurant. At this early hour, most of the tables were empty. Subdued, indirect lighting created a sultry atmosphere. Yellows and browns dominated the color palette. The dining room was open to the kitchen, and he could see the chefs in black aprons preparing for the evening service. The aroma of charred meat permeated the air.

"How are things in San Francisco?"

"Not bad," she said. "Still short-handed. I'm looking for a
legionnaire
and a security chief. It's a great group though. Hanley in particular is turning into a star performer. Even my assistants are wonderful, particularly my hackers. They're not in the same class as the twins, of course, but they get the job done."

He nodded. "I'm worried about the twins."

"I'm not. God won't let them fail. This project is too important to Him."

Aaron chewed his steak as he considered that statement. Not all the implications were pleasant.

"Wesley had something to say about that before he left. If the twins are successful, there will be changes to the Society. Big changes."

"Was he more specific?" Marina said.

"His prophesies never are. I'm thinking you may never get a chance to move into your fancy new headquarters."

"That's a depressing thought."

Aaron shrugged. "Maybe the changes will be positive. We could be really happy with the way things turn out."

"Or we could lose our jobs. If this universal firewall thing is improved enough, the Lord won't need us anymore."

"That's not a terrible outcome. There will be less death and suffering in the world. Mankind will prosper as God intended."

"But what will we do?" she said.

"We can marry and settle down like a regular couple. I know! We could start a detective agency together."

"Sounds boring."

He nodded and sighed.

"At least our lives would be less stressful," she said. "Every time the phone rings, I think it's going to be Ethel with bad news about you. I live in fear."

"Me, too. I always wonder if you're in trouble and need my help. It feels like we're a million miles apart. Sometimes it's tough to go to sleep at night."

She wiped her eyes.

"Boring isn't so bad," he said.

"I guess it isn't. Let's finish eating and get out of here. I'm ready for more sex. I don't want to waste a minute of our time together."

* * *

Sheryl drove into the parking lot of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. She looked up at the smooth, brown face of the tall building. Lamps cast light on just the lowest floors, and the upper section was almost as dark as the night sky.
What the hell am I doing here?

Curiosity had driven her to come even more than money. She had spent all day obsessing about Aaron and the mysteries that shrouded him. She couldn't stop thinking about his acid-spitting trick. She intended to figure out his secrets, one way or another. She hated not knowing how an illusion worked, and that had been a great one. Making a million dollars appear out of thin air hadn't been bad, either.

Sheryl parked close to the front door. She got out of her small, red rental car, went around to the trunk, and opened it. With a grunt, she lifted out a rolling footlocker. It was packed with an assortment of basic tricks which she could perform without much rehearsal. There hadn't been time to put together an elaborate show.