If that was true, it was huge. Lauren looked across the room at the McDonald’s. An old couple with a tray of food was hunting for the optimal place to sit down. They circled a table. How in the world has Ellis resisted rushing over there for a Big Mac? And maybe a chocolate milkshake.
“Where is this Accel-X Industries located?” Ellis asked.
“In North Carolina. But you won’t get anywhere near it—not the real operation. They have a front. They say the company reclaims precious metals from electronic circuit boards and that’s their only business.”
Lauren took out her tablet and brought up the list of companies in which Lisa and Stephen Lee, through their holding company, had equity. Sure enough, number 47 on the list was Accel-X Industries, specialists in the reclamation of precious metals.
“They definitely own a piece of it.” Lauren showed Ellis.
“And,” George said, “if you take the time, you’ll find that all the investors lead back to the Lees. They actually own it one hundred percent.
“Okay, listen—” George spoke now with shaky hands. “I can’t say that I have all the answers, but I’m telling you, I’m the guy you want on this investigation.”
“What exactly do you think we’re investigating?” Lauren asked. “I mean, we never even told you why we were here.”
“The crystal.” George looked confused. “The crystal was stolen, and that means that any day now the Message will be sent and this three-decade-old time-messaging experiment will be complete.”
Lauren looked at Ellis. He shrugged.
I’ve been researching this for years,” George went on, “and my father for decades before that. I have a ton of documents. I mean, look—” He turned his laptop around. “This is a copy of an FBI arrest warrant for Dr. Jan Lee and JLA’s Chief Astronaut, Nate Terrek, dated two days before the bombing.
“I have memos between GalactiTrek and NASA talking about military replacements for two of their three astronauts. And these”—he opened two more documents and arranged them side by side—”are two articles from the Moscow Times about an ’emergency’ launch—literally to take place within hours of the GalactiTrek launch.
“And I have copies of invoices and packing slips for stuff shipped to Accel-X Industries—like massive computer systems and specialized equipment that it would make no sense for a reclamation company to purchase.”
Ellis scanned through the documents. “How do we know you didn’t just fabricate this stuff?”
“You don’t. And I admit not a single one of these items is a smoking gun. But I think in the aggregate they’re enough.”
“Enough for what?” Ellis asked.
“Enough for you to justify taking me with you.”
Ellis chuckled.
Lauren thought a moment, considering all the information this man had just offered up—and without them even prodding him. What a resource he could be for the investigation—and her screenplay. The deputy director wouldn’t like it, and neither would Ellis. But she had intuitions about these sorts of things. Intuitions that they both counted on. She was taking George with them.
“So, where exactly do you think we’d be taking you?” Ellis asked.
“To where a new era of space travel is about to be announced?”
“And where is that?”
“The Lees’ estate. I hear it’s a fortress.”
Chapter 13
A little over an hour later, Lauren, Ellis and George walked through the private aircraft terminal at Ellington Field.
“Hang on.” Lauren slurped the last of her milkshake and tossed it into the trash. “Okay, George, before we walk through that door”—she indicated the door to the field—”we need to get one thing straight. While you’re with us, and until we say otherwise, you are not to communicate electronically with anyone. Got it?”
“I guess I can live with that.”
“And you need to sign this.” She handed him her tablet. “It’s an agreement stating that you won’t, under any circumstance, disclose or disseminate any information gleaned from your time with us without my express written permission.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“This sounds like a violation of my First Amendment rights.” George studied the document. “It doesn’t even look like a government contract.”
“It’s not,” Ellis said.
“Just sign it,” Lauren demanded.
“I don’t get it.” George looked at Ellis. “What is this?”
“It’s an agreement with her. She cut and pasted it together on the way over in the auto-cab. That’s what she was working on.”
“But why do I have to sign an agreement with her?”
“She plans to turn our little adventure into a screenplay.”
Lauren tried to push Ellis out of the way, but she couldn’t budge him.
“Look—” She stepped between him and George. “It’s just a formality. And it protects you as much as it protects me.”
“Then you can be ‘The Party of the Second Part.’” George looked up from the tablet. “And, if you ask me, you guys are gleaning a lot more from me than I am from you. I really don’t feel comfortable signing this.”
“Well then, I’m not comfortable taking you with us,” Lauren replied.
Ellis muttered a profanity and walked over to the window.
Minutes later, he returned. “Listen,” he said, “AFCS is going to have to update our flight plan if we don’t hurry up and get out there. George, just sign the damn thing. I’ll swear you were under duress.”
George scratched his curly mop.
“She won’t give up,” Ellis said.
“Fine.” George scribbled his name in the designated areas. “This’ll never hold up in court,” he muttered.
“Thank you.” Lauren inspected his signatures. “Now all we need are all your electronic devices.”
“All my what?”
“All your communication devices,” Lauren clarified.
“You’re a consultant now, not a journalist,” Ellis explained. “We can’t have an internet blogger announcing our every move.”
“Unbelievable…”
George opened his backpack and handed over his laptop, two tablets, and his HoloWatch. “There. Can we go now?”
They proceeded through the door and out onto the tarmac.
“Holy shit,” George said as they approached the G10-X. “A hyperjet? You never said we’d be taking a hyperjet.”
“Incredible, isn’t it?” Lauren stopped alongside George, seeing this miracle of flight through his eyes. The G10-X looked like a fighter jet already at Mach speed—its wings swept back, its nose low, its tail high.
“It looks like a cat ready to pounce,” Lauren said.
“You mean it looks like a cat ready to get pounced.” Ellis laughed. “You know, with its tail up in the air like that.”
“Special Agent Cole doesn’t seem to get it.” Lauren frowned at him.
“Oh, I get it. I just don’t get all giddy about it.”
“Anyway,” Lauren told George, “as long as that superbug is out there, we get to fly in style. Wait until you see the inside.”
George followed her up the steps near the front of the plane.
“When we get AFCS—that’s our remote piloting service—on the line,” she explained, “I’ll get them to unlock the cockpit. It’s really amazing in there.” As they stepped onto the plane, she turned to direct George’s attention down the aisle—and froze.
A man in full body armor had a pistol pointed at her head.
Her right hand was on her weapon, but she carefully moved it away. This man looked like he might actually shoot.
“We’ve got a situation,” Lauren said, raising her hands.
“Yes, we do,” Ellis replied.
Lauren turned her head slowly, looking past George. Ellis was halfway up the steps, another man in full body armor right behind him.
“Please, Agent Madison,�
�� the man in front of Lauren said, “very slowly step into the cabin.” He started backward, and with his weapon, indicated for her to approach.
Lauren moved toward him. George, however, didn’t budge.
“George?” Ellis tapped the conspiracist on the shoulder, then guided him into one of the seats. “He’s harmless,” Ellis assured the two armed men.
“We know who he is,” the man in front of Lauren said. Then he added: “That’s far enough, Agent Madison.”
Lauren stepped as close to the man as she could. Ellis was right behind her, and it would be up to him to get them out of this. Even if she could get the edge on these guys, she sure as hell wasn’t going to fire a gun inside the G10-X. She imagined Arthur’s reaction to that bit of news. No, that’s not going to happen.
“Now, before we all take our seats,” the man in front of Lauren said, “I want you, one at a time, to very slowly remove your weapons and toss them onto the seat to your right. Understand, Agent Madison?”
“It’s Special Agent Madison. And of course I understand.”
“Both weapons, Agent Madison. First the thigh-holstered Glock 21 Gen7, then your ankle-holstered Glock 19.”
So, you know who I am and you’re just choosing to be a dick. Okay…
Lauren lowered her right hand slowly. “Who hired you?” she asked. “You’re obviously mercenaries.”
“All you need to worry about for the next forty-eight hours is not giving us a reason to shoot you. We’ll just sit here in the plane, and I’ll even have my men get us some takeout.”
“Forty-eight hours? Here, in the plane?” Lauren lifted her gun out of her thigh holster with two fingers. “You realize this is kidnapping.”
“Slowly, Agent Madison. We’re quite aware of your skills.”
Lauren dropped the gun on the seat.
“See, this isn’t so bad. Now the 19. And you’re up next, big boy.”
Lauren squatted down in order to retrieve her ankle-holstered 19.
The man looked at her irritably. “What are you doing? Just put your foot up on the armrest.”
Lauren winked at the man, who was still looking back at her in confusion when Ellis, in one smooth motion, grabbed the man’s gun and yanked him into an incoming fist. Before the man had even hit the floor, Ellis had spun around and grabbed the other man’s weapon. A shot rang out—the bullet hitting no one—and Ellis proceeded to chase the man out of the plane.
Lauren disarmed the man on the floor and checked his pulse. Still alive, although those lights wouldn’t be coming back on for quite some time. She picked up her own gun and moved down the aisle. She found George on the floor in front of his seat, eyes closed, hands covering his ears.
He’s fine.
From outside the plane, three shots rang out.
Lauren rushed to the door. At the foot of the stairs, Ellis had taken cover behind the man he had just subdued. His shoulder was bleeding. Another scar!
Fifty yards out, two men, rifles at the ready, were hoofing it toward the plane.
Lauren raised her gun, pictured the men in her mind’s eye, and stepped into the doorway. She fired two shots that were so nearly synchronous they sounded as one.
Both men collapsed like lifeless dolls.
For Lauren, in the doorway, the world had slowed. Some part of her knew just how much to lead the men, how much to correct for distance, wind, and a thousand other variables of which she wasn’t even aware. She had aimed and fired, aimed and fired, targeting each man’s left eye. Body armor and the deflective quality of the human skull had left few options.
“We’ve got more company.” Ellis was already charging up the steps.
Two military-style trucks were approaching.
“What about our friend in the back?” Lauren asked.
“Maybe we can get him to talk.”
“I doubt it. He looks like he was hit with a cinderblock.” Lauren pushed the button and the jet’s clamshell doors closed.
Ellis contacted American Flight Command Services. “This is Special Agent Cole declaring an emergency. We need an immediate departure.”
“Please use the identification pad to the right of this console,” a female voice emanated from the system’s speaker.
“I did!”
“We have not received valid confirmation. Please try again.”
“Maybe that’s because there’s blood on my fingers.” Ellis slammed his hand against the identification pad.
“Please make certain that your fingers are within the white lines—”
“Special Agent Cole,” another, more familiar, voice cut in. It was Jeff Hughes, one of AFCS’s more experienced pilots. “Emergency departure approved. Better buckle up. Things are going to happen fast.”
Lauren felt the wheel chocks release and the primaries come online as Jeff communicated to the tower that the FBI was requesting an expedited departure. In the cockpit, buzzes and beeps could be heard. The engines ramped up and down and, out the window, the control surfaces ran through their full range of motion.
The G10-X was already rolling.
Ellis got George up off the floor and buckled him into his seat, then sat down across from Lauren at the table.
“Prepare for immediate takeoff,” Jeff said over the main speakers.
The plane turned sharply and, without pause, charged down the runway.
“At least we don’t have to hear that stupid speech about how to use a seatbelt.” Lauren held on to her armrests and tried to contain her kid-on-a-rollercoaster smile.
“I heard that.” Jeff’s freckled, frat-boyish face appeared on the communication panel between Lauren and Ellis.
“Jeff, since you’re eavesdropping anyway,” Lauren said as they left the ground, “do you happen to have someone who can contact airport security and our local office? We kind of left a mess back there.”
“Of course. Anything for you two—you know that.”
“Special Agent Madison.” A young woman appeared on the screen. “I’m Jamie Rodriguez. How can I help?”
Lauren dictated two messages. The first was for Ellington Field security and Houston FBI, regarding the armed men and the three bodies on the tarmac. The second was for the Asheville FBI, about taking possession of their prisoner once they landed at the Asheville Regional Airport. She added that they might want to bring an ambulance.
“We’ll stay here at thirty thousand feet, heading north,” Jeff told them. “That way we can pick up the North American Supersonic Corridor.”
“Finally!” Lauren said.
Jeff laughed.
Accessing the North American Supersonic Corridor meant climbing practically to outer space and accelerating to over five times the speed of sound. The corridor dipped below Dallas and headed up toward Atlanta, so it sort of made sense—though Lauren knew the only reason they were doing this was because the FBI had an unrestricted fuel budget, and because pilots, like Jeff, loved to log hyper-flight time.
“I nearly forgot,” Lauren said. “A firearm was discharged in the cabin before we took off.”
“That’s something you might have wanted to mention.” Jeff smiled crookedly. “Cabin pressure looks fine. Do you know where the bullet went?”
It took only a minute for Lauren to find it. It was lodged in the seat directly across the aisle. She felt a dimple in the hard plastic on the back of the seat. “What the hell are these seatbacks made out of?”
“Space age composite,” Ellis said.
“Really?”
“How would I know?” Ellis laughed. “Jeff?”
“Don’t ask me. I just fly ’em.”
“Well, whatever it is, it stopped this bullet,” Lauren said.
“Only one shot fired?” Jeff asked.
“One inside the plane. Three outside. But those were all directed at Ellis.”
“Oh, good.” Jeff chuckled. “Well, as long as they missed.”
“Well, one got him,” Lauren said.
“Seriously? You’re
kidding, right?”
“No. Ellis, show him.”
Ellis leaned forward and showed Jeff the blood-soaked hole in his shirt.
“Oh my God.” Jeff grimaced. “You guys ever hear of bacterial infections?”
“Good point.” Lauren normally was pretty good about tending to Ellis’s wounds. This was a slip-up. “I’ll get the first aid kit.” She unbuckled her seatbelt.
“No, no, I’ll get it,” Ellis said. “You check on Sleeping Beauty back there.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, this is nothing.” Ellis went to the front of the plane, taking a moment to look in on George as he passed. “He’s got the shakes.” Ellis draped a blanket over him.
“Well, this guy’s still out,” Lauren said, checking the man in body armor before returning to her seat.
Ellis set the first aid kit down on the table and his duffel bag on the floor.
“All right, off with your shirt,” Lauren said, opening the first aid kit.
Ellis removed his shirt, balled it up, and dropped it on the floor.
“What’s that?” George, wrapped in his blanket, fell into the seat across the aisle from them.
“This is what they call a Skin Welder,” Lauren explained. “It seals up the wound and, at the same time, injects these little nano-machines into it that kill the bacteria.”
Lauren used the Skin Welder to clean and seal the gouge in Ellis’s arm.
“Go ahead, poke at it,” she dared George. “It’s as good as new.”
“I’ll just take your word for it,” George said, staring at Ellis’s formidable arm.
Ellis barely glanced at the repair before digging a clean shirt out of his duffel bag and putting it on. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“You’re welcome,” Lauren said, feeling pretty good about her limited medical skills. She put the kit back together and Ellis returned it to the front of the plane.
“What’s the matter with you?” Lauren asked George.
“You shot those men. I saw it through the window.”
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