by Josh Karnes
* * *
“Ray Ortiz, Assistant Special Agent in Charge,” Ortiz said as he entered Duncan's office and extended his credentials for Larry to see.
“Mr. Ortiz,” Larry said as he extended his hand to shake, “I am Larry Duncan. I am the project manager of this facility. What brings you to Isla Roca?” Larry said, trying to sound nonchalant. He handed Ortiz a business card.
Ortiz turned his eyes towards a chair in front of Duncan's desk, and Larry motioned for him to sit. “Please,” Larry said, and then to Carl, “Carl, I think I can take it from here.” Ortiz sat and Duncan joined sitting behind his desk. “So, what can I do for you?” Duncan said, prompting again, hoping for a quick explanation.
“Mr. Duncan,” Ortiz said as he looked at the business card in his hand. “I'll get right to it. A teenage boy from Texas has gone missing, and he was last seen just off the coast of your little island here. I was hoping to find any information I could about Isla Roca that might help us to find him.”
Larry Duncan knew that the key to controlling information was to keep the other party from suspecting you were hiding anything. To do that, you must be forthcoming and open. And the truth is, Larry didn't think Daedalus had anything to do with this boy's disappearance, so he could be completely transparent about everything that might help find the boy.
“We heard about the missing boy. Carl, the man who escorted you here, has been working on a project out near some buoys that we use for experiments and had the chance to speak with the boy's father and some others about it. Carl and another technician of ours have been the only ones out there near where he went missing. They told the boy's father they hadn't seen anything, but you are welcome to ask them and maybe they can give you some information that will help.”
Ortiz had the impression that Mr. Duncan was trying to brush him off by handing him over to some flunkies. “Here's two low-level staffers who don't know anything. They will be happy to tell you all they know,” was how Ortiz was translating Duncan's doublespeak.
“Thank you. I will certainly want to talk to them in a bit. But first, I would like to get some information from you about the operation here.” Ortiz took a notepad out of his pocket along with a pen to begin taking notes. Without Duncan noticing, he also started recording the audio on his phone, which he left in his jacket pocket.
“Sure,” Larry began, hoping again that he could lay out what information he wanted to share and it would extinguish further questions. “I am the manager of the project we are working on here at Thermion's Isla Roca facility. As I am sure you know, Thermion leases this island from the U.S. Government and we do specialized research here.”
“Specialized research,” Ortiz prompted. “What kind of specialized research?”
Duncan had prepared for this. “Mr. Ortiz,” he said. “You are familiar, of course, with GPS. As you know many military systems depend on GPS. The GPS system of satellites was originally created by the DoD in order to provide better navigation systems than what we had previously. And today, a very large number of military systems depend on GPS, and not just ordinary navigation. So-called 'smart bombs,' precision-guided munitions, missile guidance systems, you name it. Part of the overwhelming power of the American military is due to GPS.” Duncan paused, and Ortiz responded only with a look that said 'get to the point.'
So, Duncan continued. “What you might not know is that GPS operates by using precise time signals. This signal is transmitted through the air over a radio transmission from each satellite. A GPS receiver determines its position by calculating differences in time between an array, or a 'constellation', of GPS satellites. There are two problems with this,” Duncan ticked off with his fingers, “One, radio signals are not immune to jamming. And two, any timing error results in a position error.” This time Duncan paused, but he would not continue until prompted. A few seconds went by before Ortiz responded.
“Mr. Duncan, I appreciate the lesson in GPS technology. But what are you doing here.”
“Here, we are studying methods of minimizing or eliminating the position error caused by timing errors.”
“Timing errors. Okay. So I mean, what exactly are you doing?”
“We are conducting experiments. We have a small particle accelerator that can be used to induce precise, very small timing errors in atomic clocks here in our lab. These timing errors emulate errors that occur in nature, or that may be caused by human interference, intentional or unintentional. By introducing a controlled error, we can then analyze the effectiveness of our solutions to make navigation systems immune to such errors.”
“Thermion is a defense contractor, is it not? Are you on a government-sponsored research project, or are you working on a device or equipment, precision munitions or whatever, that you intend to sell to the DoD?” Ortiz asked. His B.S. detector was lighting up. He hoped to knock Duncan off balance and get him to reveal something he was supposed to be hiding.
“It's not a research project. We are developing a navigation system that can be used in precision-guided munitions that will be immune to these timing errors,” Duncan said. Now he was improvising. This line of questioning had better end quickly.
“I'm not sure I understand this,” Ortiz began. Duncan had bitten the hook. Now it was time to start reeling. “You guys have a pretty big operation here. Huge. If I'm not mistaken, you have a staff who lives onsite here on the island. We have satellite photos of a pretty enormous excavation going on here a few years back. There's a big supply boat that comes here once a week, and it's dropping off not only food but also equipment, other materials as far as we can tell. I have it on good authority that you have a bunch of buoys with equipment on them that requires some daily service out in the water a half a kilometer off of the coast. You have a small fleet of boats. There's a nuclear reactor here, for God's sake. Now forgive me for not being an expert on defense contracts, but this seems like a pretty expensive operation just to research how to build a slightly better navigational system to improve on what are already state-of-the-art precision-guided munitions.”
Ortiz didn't know the half of it, Larry thought. Below the ground was a supercollider, more expensive by several orders of magnitude than all of the things Ortiz had ticked off. But it was true, Ortiz was onto something, and Duncan was rapidly being backed into a corner. Time to play some defense.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Ortiz. What does any of this have to do with a missing boy?” he said.
“I'm just trying to get to the bottom of what you are doing here, so I can determine how likely it is that your operation might be related to our missing person. No offense, Mr. Duncan, but you just fed me a line of bull about this GPS thing. It was very convincing. Lots of background. A detailed story. But it doesn't make sense. Nobody would spend, what, billions of dollars, renting a private island and building a space-age facility like this, just to make navigation computers. Now why don't you tell me what's really going on.”
Duncan looked down at Ortiz's business card. This was about to get messy. “Mr. Ortiz,” he began. “I want to help you find the lost boy. That is the absolute truth. And I will do everything in my power to make that happen. But much of the work we are doing here is a trade secret. Considering the fact that we are working directly under a DoD contract, some of it may affect national security. There is a limit to what I can tell you and what I can show you here on the facility without a warrant or other court order, and I am prepared to go up to that limit. However, if we have to go past that limit, then I am going to have to send this up the chain, and you and I both know what is at the end of the chain. Why don't you let me help you as much as I can right now, and then if things have to go further than that, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Duncan hoped his contrite act of diplomacy would appeal to the practical lawman he believed was at the core of ASAC Ray Ortiz's character.
Ortiz got the message. If he pushed harder, Duncan would clam up and make a call, which would almost definitely shut down Ortiz's access to
this island altogether. Partial answers, half-truths and lies were probably better than no information at all. And if Duncan was serious about offering help, then maybe that left the door open for the search team to search this island as well.
“Okay, Mr. Duncan. I get the hint. We are on the same side here. I just want to find this kid, and really I don't care about what you are doing on this island except for if it may be involved in this disappearance. Here's what I'd like to do. We are going to need to search the area near the buoys I mentioned before. The boy was last seen at El Pliegue, which is near the buoys. Also, we may want to search the coastline of the island here, just in case he swam to shore or, God forbid, washed up somewhere. And I will need to have one of our investigators talk to your staff.”
“Okay. I think we can come up with something that will work,” Duncan offered. “How about this. Carl Jacobs, the man who brought you in, along with Aaron West are the most knowledgeable people we have here on the island when it comes to the area out by El Pliegue. They work out there every day. And we have a lot of equipment that may help you in your search, for example if you wanted to search the depths of the sinkhole without having to dive it, we can bring in sonar equipment and other detection devices that will help identify what's deep below the water. How about if I assign Aaron and Carl as your hosts, and offer our boats and equipment, anything we have, to help find the boy.”
It was a bargain. This wasn't at all what Ortiz had asked for. But it was not a bad idea. And if it kept Duncan from calling someone who might call in Homeland, then it may be worth it.
“That sounds good to me. But I will need to get a tour of your facility here, and also interview some of your staff.”
“Why don't we start with the search of the area, and let me check on which staff I can spare and what I can show you without requiring legal counsel,” Duncan offered.
Ortiz decided to take the bird in the hand. He already had a much better idea of what was going on here than he did before he came. Something big was going on, something they were trying to keep secret, and there was definitely something they were hiding. But to get to the bottom of these things would require trust and subtlety. Pressing too hard now would just force the door shut.
“Okay, Mr. Duncan. We'll start with the search, like you said. You will hear from me or my office again later today.”