Part 46 (1/2)
Ethel nodded. ”Search the truck. Maybe our enemies left a clue behind. But be very careful. Don't forget they like poisons and traps.”
”I'll check the cab, ma'am. Marina, can you check the trailer?”
Marina nodded. ”Sure.”
”And I'll watch the street.” Ethel walked away.
Aaron looked into the cab through the driver's side window. The keys were still in the ignition, but otherwise, there was nothing remarkable or apparently dangerous about the brown vinyl interior.
Suspicious, he decided to try a different perspective. He climbed onto the hood and looked straight down through the winds.h.i.+eld. He spotted a hand grenade wedged between the door and the seat. If he had opened the door, he would be dead now. Nasty trick.
He kicked the winds.h.i.+eld with both his legs. The laminated gla.s.s was strong, but after several hard blows it gave way.
He wanted to check the glove compartment, so he carefully pried it open with a combat knife, keeping his hands away. A spring-loaded dart shot out and hit the seat. The needle tip was coated with a brown substance. Still using the knife, he fished out the contents of the glove compartment. He only found maps, registration, and insurance papers.
Suddenly, the entire truck lurched. There was a loud, metallic crunch, as if a very heavy object had landed on it. Car alarms began to wail.
He scrambled off the hood and ran around to the back of the truck. The rear doors were blown out and twisted.
”Marina!” he yelled.
”Over here,” she replied. ”I'm OK.”
She was hiding behind a dumpster, unharmed. She stood up.
He sighed with relief. ”What happened?”
”I tried to pop open the doors with a small charge. Obviously, there was a bomb inside.”
He looked into the back of the truck and saw it was completely empty. ”Where the h.e.l.l is the poisoned beer?”
”I have no idea,” Marina said.
Ethel ran over and said, ”Let's go. Everybody in the neighborhood heard that explosion. The police will be here any second.”
The three of them walked briskly away.
”Where are we going, ma'am?” Aaron said.
”I'm not sure,” she said. ”Keep your eyes open.”
”We have to find the beer.”
”I know.”
They reached the street and headed south. The sidewalks were crowded and the general flow was towards the baseball game, but plenty of people were headed the other way. Everywhere he looked, Aaron saw cups of beer. It smelled like a party even with a cool breeze blowing.
Wrigley Field was directly ahead. The ”Friendly Confines” was built from steel beams arranged in a regular grid. Walls of brick filled some of the square s.p.a.ces and others were left open. The austere architecture was elegant. It was clearly a place for nothing other than baseball.
Aaron noticed a man carrying a cup with the ”Mooseland” logo on it. He ran over and asked, ”Where did you get that beer?”
”Up Clark Street. They're giving it away.”
”For free?” Aaron raised his eyebrows.
”Yeah,” the man said, ”but if you want some, you'd better hurry. It's going fast.”
Aaron smacked the poisoned beer out of the man's hand.
”Hey! You a.s.shole!”
Aaron looked at Ethel and Marina. ”Run.”
They sprinted over to Clark Street and turned north. The heavy pedestrian traffic kept getting in the way. They were forced onto the street to maintain a good pace. Fortunately, there was no danger of getting hit by a car. The mother of all traffic jams had spread across the entire neighborhood.
It didn't take long to find the source of free beer. A thick crowd was packed into an empty lot near a park. A big, hand painted banner read, ”The Mooseland Brewery celebrates the Chicago Cubs!”
”This is a nightmare,” Ethel said.
Aaron nodded. He pressed forward into the crowd, which grew even thicker towards the center. Everybody had beer, sometimes more than one cup. He tried not to let any of the poison slosh onto his skin from the constant jostling. It's a death party, he thought.
In the center of the mob, three men stood on a low platform. They had a huge stack of beer kegs and were filling cups as quickly as they could. Aaron recognized two young men from the security video in the brewery. The third had a sunset symbol drawn on his forehead with scars instead of ink. He had to be Harbinger. He was a tall, athletic man with a very masculine face. All three wore Mooseland caps and T-s.h.i.+rts.
”I'm open to suggestions,” Ethel said.
She, Marina, and Aaron put their heads together so they could speak quietly and still be heard. It seemed like everybody in the crowd was yelling drunkenly about the Cubs.
”We could just stab the Eternals and run,” Marina said.
”No,” Ethel said. ”Too many witnesses. We may have to wait until the beer is gone and the crowd disperses so we can deal with the enemy discreetly.”
”Every cup is another death,” Aaron said. ”We have to stop this insanity now.”
”You sound like Smythe,” Ethel said.
He shrugged. ”That doesn't make me wrong, ma'am. I could use a smoke grenade to clear the crowd.”
”And start a stampede?”
”If we do nothing, everybody will die, anyway.”
”No,” she said. ”We might lose the enemy in the chaos. Instead, we'll quietly walk up to them, stick a gun in their ribs, and escort them away. I'll take Harbinger. Marina, you take the man on the left. Aaron, you take the man on the right. If they run, chase them. Understood?”
Aaron and Marina nodded.
”We'll need a distraction,” Ethel said. ”I want all the civilians looking the other way. Aaron, that's your job. Marina and I will stay here.”
”Yes, ma'am.” He turned around and pushed through the crowd to get out.