Erikson kicked at a pair of binoculars, smashed into pieces and lying in the dirt next to a trashed laptop and camcorder. “Alien spotters,” he said.
“Yeah, geeks are all over the place down here. Roswell, etcetera.”
“They found more than they bargained for,” said Erikson. “Wonder what was going through their minds when this went down.”
Bare footprints in the dirt led up to tire tracks. The four starting positions of the wheels much larger and further apart than they would have been for a car.
“They switched vehicle. Something big. A bus. A motorhome maybe,” said Kane.
“They tore the place apart for the keys,” said Erikson. “Then got rid of anything electronic.” He kicked at a broken GPS navigation unit in the dirt. “Anything that might have a tracking chip, that could be traced.”
Kane knelt next to the dead man, who looked to have been in his mid-fifties, and started through his pockets. The man was wearing a pair of cargo pants, so there were plenty of them. Eventually Kane found what he was looking for.
A wallet.
With a raised eyebrow, he held it up between his thumb and index finger so that Erikson could see ‘WE ARE NOT ALONE’ emblazoned on the front.
“Ain’t that the truth,” he said, pocketing the cash he found inside. Wasn’t like it was going to be of any use to the owner now. “Jackpot.” He plucked out the man’s driving license along with the registration for a 1993 Winnebago Chieftain. “At least now we know what to look for.”
“I can go one better,” said Erikson. “Now we even know what it looks like.” The camera on the ground may have been banged up, but it was still operational. As was the pullout viewfinder. There were hours of footage and hundreds of shots. Erikson had been shuttling through all of it, not exactly knowing what he was on the lookout for until Kane mentioned the Winnebago. He had remembered seeing one about a dozen shots back. Sure enough, there it was. An unremarkable beige affair, save for the dazzling array of stickers wallpapering the rear end. Pictures of flying saucers and little green men and quotes straight out of an episode of The X Files.
“Jesus, what a heap,” said Kane.
“All that crap just makes it easier to spot,” said Erikson. He hunkered down next to the body. “Scene here is fresh. This one still smells of toothpaste. They can’t be that far ahead of us.”
The trail led them on to a highway half an hour later. Fifteen miles after that, as the sun rose, so too did the form of a truck stop on the horizon.
“Whole lot of vehicles on the lot,” said Erikson.
“It’s breakfast time,” said Kane.
Half of the site was given over to a gas station with what must have been more than thirty pumps, covered by a huge canopy that extended over all but those reserved for the taller rigs. A large chain motel adjoined the truck stop itself, which consisted of a restaurant and a not so mini mini-mart.
There were dozens of semis parked up. A large section of the lot, one big enough to cater for a mid-sized shopping mall, was crammed with station wagons, SUVs and minivans. People were milling about like ants between the stationary vehicles, carrying takeout coffees and clutching paper bags with their breakfasts in them.
Kane and Erikson drew a few curious glances as they rolled to a stop, but men in military-style fatigues driving a vehicle like theirs was not that unusual in this part of the world.
“Damn,” said Kane. “Finding them is going to be impossible.”
“Maybe,” replied Erikson. “Maybe not.” He nodded his head at the sea of motorhome, directing Kane’s attention down an avenue formed between the rows of vehicles. The back of the one jutting out right at the end was identical to the one Erikson had found on the camera.
The ghosts had not been in the field for some time, so odds were they would have lost a lot of their mission sharpness. But having seen what they left behind at the campsite, they were still dangerous.
Nothing could be assumed.
Kane and Erikson moved in to take a closer look. All the shades in the windows of the motorhome were drawn. Nobody appeared to be in the cockpit. But then there wouldn’t, would there?
“We need to take this slow,” said Kane.
“You think they’re still in there?” said Erikson.
“Let’s find out,” said Kane. He fished around in the dirt underfoot and came up with a stone the size of a Ping-Pong ball. Retreating to a safe vantage point, he lobbed the rock high, bouncing it off the RV’s roof.
A tiny gap opened in one of the window shades as someone inside peeked out. It stayed that way for a few seconds, then closed again.
“Someone’s home,” said Erikson.
“They could be looking to change vehicle,” said Kane. “In which case a couple of these guys have stayed put while the others scout out a replacement.”
“Something a little less conspicuous I would imagine.”
Kane held up his finger for silence, then pointed it at the ground in front of the RV. Small clouds of dust formed above the ground as two of the invisible men, judging by the patterns of the footfalls, returned. The handle on the door of the RV turned and it swung open briefly before closing again.
“We’re not going to be able to ship five of them out of here without causing a scene,” said Erikson.
“Agreed,” said Kane, taking the suppressed submachine gun he was carrying from under his jacket. “So I’m making an executive decision.”
37
Everything had fallen into place so very neatly. Sophia never would have dared dream the boy could have survived on his own for as long as he did, let alone that their paths would cross again. But now that they had, she was going to use the situation to her advantage.
Winning his trust completely would take only a little more manipulation.
The men still inside the pods were so close to death that it would take only the slightest of nudges to push them over the edge. By the same token, it wouldn’t take much to convince Ben she was doing all she could to help them.
Her motive was still the same as it ever was. Only its importance and the urgency of its achievement had increased. Invisibility was something to which mankind should never have access or entitlement. It was a dangerous epidemic waiting to happen, one with the potential to bring society to its knees.
Some people were afraid of the dark. But everyone is afraid of what they cannot see. The entire world would be crippled with fear, paralyzed by a paranoia that knew no bounds.
Sophia couldn’t stand by and let that happen, not when she had the power to stop it.
All those who were invisible. All those who had the knowledge to make it happen. Everyone connected with Project Clear. The whole slate had to be erased.
She took a walk from pod to pod, humming and aahing, making all the noises a concerned relative would expect to hear a caring doctor make on her rounds.
She made out as if she was examining the readings on each of the capsule’s instruments.
“What do you think?” Ben asked.
“I think I have an idea,” Sophia said, with a smile that was genuine, but unbeknownst to him, not for genuine reasons.
She glanced back at the life support pods for effect, and sat down at the computer, setting to work on locating the software that managed the facility’s various systems.
The boy was smart. To be convincing she needed to bring him in on the act.
She slid a notepad across the desktop and asked him to write down the exact readings from each of the instruments she had mock-inspected in front of him.
It would both keep him occupied and give him a front row seat for the show.
Ben diligently recorded the numbers, asking Sophia curious questions over his shoulder and making optimistic comments as he did so.
Sophia made positive murmurs, all the while keeping tabs on his position in the reflection on the screen, which was only possible with the pad and pen in his hands.
A red dialog box popped up on the scre
en several times, asking her in slightly different phrasing on each occasion if she was sure she wanted to proceed with the requested action, until finally it accepted that she did.
“Cole had the life support systems locked up with some serious encryption,” she said. In the screen’s reflection, the notepad turned in mid-air to face her.
“You can get around it?” he said.
“I think I just have,” she said with a triumphant tap of the enter key.
The lights in the room flickered and the screen of the terminal cut out.
Sophia sat bolt upright.
“What’s going on?” said Ben, his voice wavering, the notepad dropping to his side and swinging toward her.
“Oh no,” said Sophia. “He didn’t.”
The loud electrical hum that had greeted them on entering the room became even more conspicuous by its abrupt absence. Sophia spun around and jumped up out of her seat as the strip lighting overhead went out and the system switched to emergency lighting.
The LED diodes on the life support pods went out as the hum from the machines faded.
“He booby-trapped the system,” said Sophia, mock-thinking aloud. “As soon as I breached the security and assumed control, the power supply to the room was cut. Cole must have done it to prevent anyone from freeing or examining the subjects.”
“But I don’t understand. They’ll die,” said Ben.
“That’s the whole idea,” Sophia replied. “If he couldn’t have them, no one could. It’s them Jason has been after all this time, Ben. Not Cole. He thought you were dead. Hoped it even. But now? This has made you even more valuable. Now they’re going to come looking for you hard.”
“Why would he hope I was dead?” Ben asked.
“Louisiana wasn’t about protecting you and your mother, Ben. It was about protecting an investment. I didn’t see it until it was too late. You’re worth billions of potential dollars in R&D. Who knows, maybe trillions.”
“I’m a commodity.”
“You’re an asset. One that’s slipped off the books. And they want you back.”
The chair next to Sophia creaked as Ben sat. “So it was all an act. The Nest. The whole lot.”
“I’m sorry. They had no interest in curing you, Ben. Where would the profit have been in that? No, you were basically being kept in storage until the time was right.”
“What does that mean?”
“The stuff Jason was teaching you. That wasn’t self-defense technique. That was close quarters combat. You were being trained up, Ben.”
“I don’t believe you. That’s just crazy. I wasn’t a soldier. Nor did I have any interest in becoming one.”
“Not then you didn’t. But they had time on their side. Or at least they thought they did. You had been born into that environment. You knew nothing else. The plan was a slow burner. To gradually grow you into the most efficient assassin on the planet.
“You must see it, Ben. It’s not just luck and determination that’s got you through out there all these years. It was the training. Survival became second nature to you.”
“And what about my mother, how did she fit into this plan? I don’t remember her receiving any specialist training.”
“I’m afraid there was a different strategy in mind for Eve,” she said, her voice full of concern. “It was the whole reason the safe house was given the name, ‘The Nest’.”
She let silence fill in the gaps.
“Oh my God,” he said.
“While Powell was with you, the rest of his team were out scouring the world for Cole. He had taken the express route, accomplished what they hadn’t yet. He had created his own invisible man. Invisible men. If they could track them down and transport them out to The Nest, there would be no need for any more science experiments. They could create their stealth army from the ground up, the old-fashioned way.”
The boy remained silent. But invisible or not, Sophia could tell the effect she was having.
“These are powerful, ambitious men with few morals,” Sophia said. “They will do whatever it takes to get what they want. Cole worked for them for long enough. It was something he understood only too well.
“There are much better, more capable scientists within their program. He knew they were going to have no use for him. Hence this, I suppose.”
The boy stood. “So what now?”
“Given the data Jason will have no doubt retrieved from Cole’s base in Miami, I think it’s only a matter of time before they figure out the location of this place and that we’re here, if they haven’t already. You’re lost property to them, Ben. And very soon they’re going to come claim you.”
***
Every one of Sophia’s words had been another slap across his face. He felt so stupid now for having harnessed those myopic memories of growing up in The Nest to help him sleep at night. And guilty that he found himself blaming his mother.
But how had she not known what was going on?
Maybe she did. Perhaps she had let it all happen, in return for some kind of safe haven for her young child. In some way, maybe she saw the training he was receiving as insurance later.
There was also the other aspect of her life, before he came along, that she never spoke of. Perhaps he would have been more curious if he had grown up surrounded by other children, had gone to a normal school and engaged in playground banter, the kind that, sooner or later, revolved around to what everyone’s daddy did for a living.
The fact was he knew absolutely nothing of his father or where he had come from.
His mother had claimed she had no memories of anything prior to coming to the facility. She did not know how she had gotten there, who she was, or anything about her past.
Ben wanted to believe her. He forced himself to. But he always suspected she was keeping the truth from him. During interviews, Eve had taken lie detector tests and passed. But then to get by in the big bad world, for as long as she had, he had discovered that one learned to be a very good liar, even to themselves.
He did believe, though, that she was clinging on to some hope that the scientists would find a way to unlock their conditions, if not for her, then for him. Countless nights, she spoke of her longing, running her fingers over the contours of his face, to look upon him with her eyes.
Jason. Some guardian protector he had turned out to be.
The final events of that last day in The Nest came back to him again. The images were familiar, but the angle at which he saw them now was so different.
Flynn, Jason’s right arm, storming into their quarters and rushing them above ground, locking them into the attic space of that crumbling old house as the floodwaters rose. Ben had always assumed it was for their protection. But why would Jason have he and his mother put into the one room where escape would have been impossible if the water got that high?
Then there was Sophia calling their names. That sense of urgency. She was looking for them, trying to save them.
Jason had decided to pull the plug and desert them.
They were too far from anywhere to be rescued. He was running, leaving them behind to drown, knowing they were a lost cause, and hoping that the water would claim them.
Then the smash he had heard. Sophia had broken out on to the roof in an effort to free them. And Jason had tried to stop her. Ben saw the gun slide down the roof into the water after Sophia wrestled it from his grasp, before the water took them both.
She had saved he and his mother’s lives moments before she almost lost her own.
The two of them had stayed huddled, stranded in the attic, for hours afterward. At one stage the water had come dangerously close to the window, but there it stayed until the level dropped. As it did, so did they, moving down out of the roof area and into the floors below, salvaging anything they could before venturing out.
Ben wondered why his mother wanted so desperately to leave. Surely it would have been best to wait until the people who knew where they were came for them.
She told him that was exactly why they needed to go.
They got by surprisingly well to begin with. But then she got sick. His mother may have died out there, just as Jason had hoped. But Ben was still alive.
And now Jason knew it.
No wonder Sophia was so convinced Powell was on his way out here. He needed to clean up, once and for all, the combined mess he had left behind in Nevada and Louisiana.
He wouldn’t have a better opportunity than this.
All his targets a million miles from anywhere, in the middle of the damned desert.
Let him come. Ben wasn’t a child anymore. He could stand on his own two feet, and thanks to Jason’s training he could use both of them to kick his teeth down his former mentor’s own throat.
Maybe these guys had been on to something. Perhaps he could make a dangerous weapon after all. Now it was time to show them just how much.
38
Each branch of the U.S. military machine had its own version of the Sikorsky Black Hawk, but the one Powell was flying in now was a variant he had never seen before.
Having said that, he knew exactly what the chopper was, especially given that Crane was the one who had sanctioned its use. It was a more up-to-date model of the experimental stealth helicopter that had crashed on the base where Project Clear was operating, the one in which the Green Berets, now referred to as “the ghosts” were travelling.
The catch the colonel spoke of, the condition of being given use of the top-secret aircraft for the mission, was that Crane himself had to accompany Powell on the flight.
It wasn’t much of catch at all.
Powell preferred to work with people he knew. And it made sense to have someone along who was familiar with the way he worked. Powell’s only condition in return was that when they got to the missile silo, he would go in alone.
Other than the pilot, the only other passenger on the flight was Tennant. He may not have had any direct military or field experience, but time was not on their side.
The matte black chopper flew nap of the earth, negotiating the terrain at low altitude and great speed, handling like a much smaller combat helicopter.
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