Aaron looked around for a good place to start exploring. There were dozens of trucks, trailers, and mobile homes to choose from. The carnival was a big operation.

He spotted one trailer that looked particularly interesting. It was separated from the rest and painted black. Perforated metal screens covered all the windows.

He pointed. "Let's take a look."

He and Marina dashed from cover to cover, but the last twenty yards were open s.p.a.ce. Reaching the trailer unseen seemed impossible.

"We need another distraction," she said.

He looked up at a panel of floodlights, which illuminated the area. "Or darkness."

"Can you knock down those lights from here?"

The lights were placed at the top of a steel truss anch.o.r.ed by four cables. Aaron started spitting. At this range he had a hard time hitting the narrow bars, but he kept trying. Whenever his saliva struck metal, it burned clean through. Finally, he did enough damage that the structure toppled over. The shattering bulbs flashed and sparked impressively.

It was much darker now, and the carnival workers were all looking at the destroyed light panel. Aaron and Marina ran to the black trailer.

The door was locked but his mouth was a universal key. A well placed gob of spit disintegrated the lock mechanism.

He cracked open the door and saw that the interior was very dark and quiet. "It looks like n.o.body is home," he whispered.

The two of them slipped inside. Aaron had no flashlight, so after making sure the door was closed, he hit the light switch. When the lights came on, he gasped.

The trailer was a medieval torture chamber. Whips, tongs, clamps, and knives hung on one wall. A wheel and a rack occupied the middle of the room. There were also bizarre mechanical contraptions made of chains, straps, and steel bars. He didn't want to imagine how they might be used.

Three cages were near the door, and one was occupied. A naked man with a black hood over his head lay on the bare metal floor. His hands and feet were tied with rope in an uncomfortable hogtie. He had b.l.o.o.d.y whip marks on his thighs.

Marina quickly reached into the cage and used her venom to put him to sleep. Then she pulled off the hood. He was a skinny, young man with short hair.

"He looks like an Eternal," she said. "I think he's being punished."

"This goes beyond punishment," Aaron said.

"They're a gang of professional a.s.sa.s.sins. Maintaining strict discipline is essential."

"Then I essentially want to kill them all. This is wrong."

They explored the torture chamber. Some of the equipment looked worn down, but everything was very clean and tidy. There wasn't a speck of dried blood or a follicle of hair anywhere.

A door led to a side chamber, which seemed to be a tiny museum of peculiar weapons. There was a sword with a thin, flexible blade like a tape measure. Aaron recognized another cla.s.sic weapon as the j.a.panese tekko-kagi or "hand claws." These could block swords or slash an opponent. There was also a glove with a spring-loaded knife built into the wrist.

"Nice collection," Marina said. "The traditional tools of the a.s.sa.s.sin's trade."

"Nice or not, we're not learning anything useful here."

The door of the trailer opened. Aaron and Marina immediately put their backs against the wall so they wouldn't be seen from the other room. He pulled out his OTs-33, and she drew a long serrated dagger from a scabbard inside her sleeve.

"Hey!" a man called out from the other room. "What the h.e.l.l?"

Aaron realized he and Marina were in a lot of trouble. He stepped into the open and put three bullets in the man's forehead with a burst of automatic fire. The suppressor reduced the noise to soft hisses and pops. Aaron ran across the room and closed the door.

Marina walked over to the body. "Beautiful shot placement."

"I had to kill him before he made too much noise."

"Ethel won't be happy. She ordered us not to engage, interfere, or kill. I'm pretty sure you just did all those things."

Aaron swallowed nervously. "We'd better go."

He cracked open the door and peeked outside. The way was clear. It seemed none of the workers had heard the commotion over the noise from the carnival. Distant police sirens added to the cacophony. He and Marina ran to the nearest shadow and crouched down.

"I think we should leave," he said.

"So soon?" she said.

"If we keep wandering around, we'll have more engagements."

She made a sour face. "I hate quitting, but you're right. This was a bad idea. We should've come in here with a real plan in mind."

He heard men calling out in loud, clear voices. The carnival workers quickly gathered into groups to receive orders. The atmosphere changed from civilian in tone to military in a heartbeat.

"They must've found the unconscious sentry," Aaron said. "They know we're here."

"Hide or run?" Marina said.

The workers were forming into teams of three and fanning out in a systematic search pattern.

"Run," he answered.

He took off without waiting for her acknowledgement. They sprinted across the huge parking lot, moving directly away from the carnival. He expected to be seen, and a glance backwards confirmed that prediction. Several men were already in pursuit.

Marina ran beside Aaron. "How far are we going?"

"Until we get away," he said.

"Maybe we should fight these chumps instead."

"Two against six? Risky. Besides, Ethel told us not to engage. I won't violate her orders twice."

"Then maybe Ethel should deal with them."

"Good idea." He nodded and pushed himself to run even faster.

They turned south, towards the avenue that pa.s.sed in front of the carnival. Two more pursuers joined the chase, bringing the total up to eight.

Several fire trucks and police cars were parked out front. Their flashing red and blue lights added to the general excitement. Aaron glimpsed the dumpster that had been bombed, and its walls were bowed out.

He stopped when he came to the street because it was too busy to just run across. He glanced back. His pursuers were about fifty yards back and closing fast. He and Marina had to move, so they took advantage of a brief gap in the traffic. Cars skidded and tires squealed, but they made it across unharmed.

Aaron and Marina headed towards Ethel. She would certainly see them coming from the roof of the grocery store.

"This will be interesting," Marina said.

There was a nice patch of shadows behind the grocery store, which was out of view of any possible witnesses. Aaron stopped there. Both of them took deep breaths as they tried to get their wind back.

The Eternals caught up a moment later. They drew out knives and formed a circle around Aaron and Marina.

The apparent leader of the group was a tall, muscular man with a scar over his right eye. His hair was a little longer than the others. The blade of his knife had elaborate, geometric etchings highlighted with gold leaf.

He stepped forward. "Who are you?"

Ethel approached the circle, wearing a black sweat suit with a hood. She carried an aluminum tube in each hand. Her favorite weapons were a pair of polished machetes, but she used the tubes during those rare times when she didn't want to seriously injure her opponent. She could still cause a lot of pain though.

"I'll ask the questions," she said.

Smythe followed a few paces behind her.

"You want to die, too?" the leader of the Eternals said. "Be my guest."

"What's your name?" Ethel asked.

"They call me Obsidian. It will be the last name you ever hear."

"Well, Obsidian, we need some information. If you want to avoid a large amount of trouble, you'll provide it willingly and leave peacefully. Technically, you're not my enemy, yet."

He smiled. "You're brave but stupid. There are eight of us and only four of you."

"Where are your guns?"

"Guns are a crutch for amateurs. We won't need them."

An aluminum tube lashed out and struck a man in the back of the head. He collapsed to the ground.

"What about now?" she said.

"Kill her!" Obsidian ordered.

Aaron waited until all the Eternals were moving towards Ethel. They seemed to forget about him and Marina for an instant. That was a mistake. Marina knocked out two simultaneously by driving her fingernails into their necks. Aaron kicked a man in the jaw, and that sent him to the ground just as well.

Obsidian stayed out of the fight, which left just three opponents for Ethel, not much of a challenge for her. Her tubes whistled through the air, cracking bones wherever they struck. Her adversaries' weapons were as useful to them as bouquets of flowers. Smythe seemed eager to partic.i.p.ate, but the fight was over before he had a chance to come forward.

Obsidian started to run. Aaron drew his gun and sprayed bullets at the man's legs. Obsidian went down, bleeding but alive. Ethel walked over to him.

Three other Eternals were still conscious. Aaron kept his gun on them, but they had crippling injuries and were no threat. Marina and Smythe remained close by.

"Now that we've dispensed with the introductions," Ethel said, "we can start again. We believe you've been killing innocent people with some kind of poison or biological weapon. Is that true? Tell me about it."

Obsidian slashed at her with his knife. She smacked his wrist with a tube and sent the knife flying. He looked at his wrist, which was badly broken, and grunted. He was trying to hide his pain but tightness in his jaw betrayed him.

"It's obvious we can't have this conversation here," she said. "We'll have to find someplace more secluded." She turned to Marina. "Put them all to sleep. We're moving out."

The mausoleum was one of the biggest Smythe had ever seen. Fifteen marble coffins occupied niches in the walls. There was enough open s.p.a.ce in the middle to conduct a modest funeral service.

Eight cheap pine coffins occupied the central s.p.a.ce now, and the unconscious body of an Eternal lay in each one. The coffins had no lids and were arranged in a circle, allowing Ethel to see all the faces from her position in the center.

The captives' naked bodies were in poor condition. Ethel had ordered Aaron to break their elbows and knees with a sledgehammer. Yellow, nylon straps bound the captives securely. They were completely at her mercy.

"Wake them up, doctor," Ethel said.

Smythe took a deep breath. He retrieved a syringe and a bottle of adrenaline from a bag of medical supplies. He went around the room and gave each captive a quick injection. They opened their eyes a few seconds later. When they tried to move, they moaned.

As he worked, he had flashbacks to another torture session in Afghanistan, one year ago. Then, like now, he had been responsible for keeping prisoners alive while they endured excruciating pain. The conflict between his Hippocratic Oath and his sense of duty was impossible to resolve. The Eternals were ma.s.s murderers and deserved the horrors they were about to experience. But, if he partic.i.p.ated, could he really call himself a doctor? Or was being a professional torturer his true purpose.

"h.e.l.lo," Ethel said. "I suggest you just relax and listen. You can't escape, obviously."

She focused her attention on Obsidian. He stared back at her with cold hatred. If he were trying to intimidate her, it wouldn't work. It was like a rabbit trying to intimidate a lion.

"You call yourselves the Order of Eternal Night," she said, "and you celebrate death as the ultimate reward. So be it. If you answer my questions, I will grant you the gift of death. However, if you're uncooperative, your life and your suffering will continue. This is a very old mausoleum in a very old graveyard. n.o.body will hear you scream."

She reached into a garbage bag and took out a brown gla.s.s bottle. She carefully unscrewed the cap.

"In the grave, we decay," she said. "By experiencing that process, you'll learn more about death. So, consider this an educational exercise. This bottle contains pure sulfuric acid."

She used an eyedropper to squirt acid onto the arms, legs, and abdomens of the captives. Their flesh turned brown on contact. The men gasped and groaned, but they didn't cry out.

Then she took a plastic container full of maggots from the garbage bag. Their tiny, white bodies wriggled eagerly. She went around the room and sprinkled maggots over the captives.

"Decay begets life," she said as she worked, "and these insects are an important part of that wondrous cycle. The rich sweat on your skin and the nutritious tissue in your wounds will allow the maggots to mature. Then the adult flies will lay eggs, and another generation will be born. Within a few weeks this tomb will be thick with buzzing, crawling life."

Smythe watched the captives closely. Most had wide eyes and were obviously terrified, and a few even had tears on their cheeks. Obsidian was putting on a brave show, but he kept trying to shake the maggots off his chest.

"But you must be thirsty," Ethel said. "Drink, please."

She nodded to Aaron. He picked up a five gallon bottle filled with milk, and she took a large funnel. One by one, she went to each captive and forced the funnel into his mouth. Aaron poured in liquid until the victim gagged.

"That's better, isn't it?" Ethel said. "I don't want you to get dehydrated. I hope the milk wasn't too sour. If you want more, just ask. We have plenty."

She had spiked the milk with phencyclidine and methedrine. The potent drugs would make the captives agitated, paranoid, and confused. Smythe watched for a negative reaction.

"I think we can finally begin," she said. "We know you're a.s.sa.s.sins. That isn't important to me. I'm more interested in the substance you're using to kill innocent people. Tell me about it. Who makes it? How does it work? Where did you get the formula?"

n.o.body answered.

Marina handed her a can of pepper spray. Ethel walked over to one of the captives and sprayed him directly in the eyes. He thrashed and moaned.

"When somebody asks a question politely," Ethel said, "you should answer."