Politics of Blood by Alex Siegel

Author:Alex Siegel
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781300892021
Published: 2013-02-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Landing a helicopter at night on a dark rooftop with no running lights was quite a trick. Aaron couldn't risk turning on the lights though. He didn't want to be seen from the ground. The rotor noise was too much of a disturbance already. Fortunately, the skin of the Rosemont Tower Hotel was soundproofed in anticipation of issues like this one.

He stared into the gloom below as the helicopter descended. City lights reflected from the clouds helped him locate his landing spot. Finally, he touched down on the roof of the hotel.

As the rotors spun down, Aaron turned and said to everybody, "We're not staying long. Norbert and Tawni, assist the legate in finding what she needs for the interrogation. I want to be back in the air in ten minutes. We'll take the blue helicopter this time. It's quieter and faster than this hunk of military junk."

Aaron jumped onto the roof and jogged to the nearest stairway. He ran down the steps, taking two at a time.

As soon as he was inside, he yelled at the ceiling, "Who is in the security booth? Where is everybody?"

Sheryl's voice answered through overhead speakers, "It's me, sir. Nancy and Kamal went home. Perry is working in your office. Smythe is eating dinner in the kitchen. The twins are in the booth with me. What happened at the United Center? I heard there was a bombing."

"That was me."

"What?"

"We'll talk about it later," Aaron said.

He went to his office and found Perry sitting at his workstation. The hacker's fingers were a clattering blur of motion on his keyboard.

"Prison release papers," Aaron demanded. "New phone."

"Yes, sir. I just need four more minutes."

"How long does it take to forge some paperwork?"

"It's not just paperwork, sir," Perry said in a whiny tone. "Computer records need to be tweaked so everything checks out. I have to break into a dozen different systems."

Aaron rolled his eyes. "Four minutes."

He went next door to his private quarters. The feds had taken all of his weapons, and he needed to reload. He also needed fresh, clean identification.

He opened the top drawer of his dresser. Stacks of manila envelopes were inside, each containing a false identity. Part of getting dressed in the morning was deciding who he wanted to be that day. He rifled through the envelopes until he found one for a federal marshal. It seemed like an appropriate cover for tonight's operation.

He dumped out the contents of the envelope onto the top of the dresser. There was a wallet, a birth certificate, a social security card, a checkbook, a diploma, and other documents. He just needed the wallet this time, so he stuffed that into his pocket and left the rest.

He rushed across the room to his personal armory. Guns hanging on hooks covered an entire wall. He didn't expect to see a lot of action tonight, so he picked out a pair of FN Five-sevens with fully automatic capability. He also grabbed a Remington XP-100 which was a cross between a pistol and a sniper rifle.

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