Chapter 30

January 8, noon, Eureka County, Nevada

Karl and Willow had reached the position they were in at one in the morning on the eighth and sat up camp on a hill where they could see for ten miles north, south, and west. Only the hills half a mile to the east of them limited their vision to half a mile. But Marajo and her companion to come in from the east. They’d chose open country where they could see for miles in any direction.

Willow didn’t know what Karl intended doing, and he wasn’t about to ask. He had learned over the years as a soldier not to ask questions about a job just do as you have been told. Hiding in these dusty, boulder dominated Nevada hills wanting for Karl to tell him what to do was a perfect example of doing as you were told. It didn’t bother him. He had been on other killings where he’d had to live outdoors with just enough food and water to sustain him while he waited for his human target.

But killing Lawrence Ames wasn’t the normal activity of a soldier. Not even one as experienced and highly regarded as Karl. And that caused Willow to think. Something he didn’t do on a regular basis. Did Karl have the authority to kill Lawrence? If he did, did he get the okay from the Council of Twenty or a leader? And if he didn’t, would he, as well as

Karl, be held responsible for the killing? Lawrence Ames was, at all, a member and they were just soldiers. And he’d never known or heard of a soldier killing a member. Willow was worried.

The only good thing about the assignment they were on was they were on the flat top of a rocky hill hidden from view by large dirt covered boulders. Even an airplane or helicopter flying overhead couldn’t see them because the boulders gave them excellent concealment. The only way to detect them was with a heat detector, and Willow couldn’t imagine some pilot having one of those on his plane or chopper. Theses hills weren’t close to any military training area, and any military pilot flying around with a heat detecting unit on his plane wouldn’t be this far off his course, not if he wanted to remain a pilot. There was nothing around them but miles of desert.

Karl was sitting between two boulders looking at the Simpson Park Mountains less than half a mile away with the expression of a predator on his face. He turned his head to his right and looked over at Willow sitting quietly on his sleeping bag staring at the ground.

“What are you thinking?” he asked him.

“Nothing,” Willow said without changing his bored expression.

“You look bored,” Karl said.

“I am.”

“Rest up. Cause in twenty-four hours or less we’re going to start earning our half million dollar a year salaries with fat kill bonuses,” Karl told him.

Every soldier liked going on a kill mission because it was usually double his yearly salary with all expenses paid. And every soldier took advantage of that by staying in expensive hotels in the cities they were sent to. There wasn’t a soldier in the Hidden Society who lived a middle class life.

“Wonder how much our bonus is going to be for this one?” he asked without looking up at Karl. The bored expression was still on his face.

“Three million each,” Karl told him.

Willow looked at him. His bored expression replaced with a look of interest. “That much?” He had never gotten more than a million dollar bonus for a kill plus expenses.

“Cheap when you consider how much the Society earns in a month.”

Willow had never thought about how much the Society made. He had never cared. His father and mother, both former soldiers like his grandparents and great grandparents who had died for the Society, had always told him, do as you’re told and don’t worry about the consequences of your actions. That’s why the Society had leaders and a Council of Twenty. Just enjoy the money you make, and don’t worry about the future. Soldiers had never retired. They just kept in condition so they could continue killing until they died of old age. His family had been soldiers of the Society for over eight hundred years. And never once during that time had any member of his family suffered or went hungry. They always had plenty of money and lived well. Willow had never seen any reason for deviating from the advice his mother and father had given him. As far as he knew that advice had been passed down in his family for over eight hundred years, and it had served his family and him well. So why change it?

Most of the year Willow did as he wished because he didn’t have any work. With a hundred soldiers and not that many kill assignments to carry out jobs were few. Since he didn’t have any skills other than killing and the ability to work a computer, Willow could pursue his own interests. If he invested money in the stock market – which he occasionally did, and lost it, so what? The Society covered all soldiers’ losses as long as they didn’t exceed a million dollars a year. Willow knew what ever soldier knew. The Society took damn good care of its soldiers as long as they were loyal. And Willow’s loyalty had never been questioned by any member of the Society.

Soldiers didn’t have insurance policies or medical insurance. They didn’t need them. If they were injured or wounded in the field the Society provided them with the best medical care money could buy. They were even provided with the best dental care money could buy, and the Society had a lot of money.

If they were killed while on an assignment, and their bodies were recovered they got a free funeral and their families got five million in cash, deposited legally, in any bank the family used. And the soldier’s pay for two years, in addition to the kill bonus.

Being a soldier for the Society was a good life.

“Are you sure this Marlene Done and whoever she’s working with are going to come here?” Willow asked Karl.

“Positive.”

“Why are you so positive?” he asked Karl.

“Because they’ve got nowhere else to go,” Karl told him.

That was all Willow needed to know. All he had to do now was wait until he was told who to kill, when to kill, then kill, and pick up his bonus. Life was sure easy for a soldier of the Hidden Society.

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