Brian could see the men in the car arguing. He could hear some of the younger kids crying behind him, but he kept his concentration. Clarise, Dee, and Melissa did what they could to keep everyone calm.
“Last chance,” Brian warned.
Still no compliance.
Neff raised his hand, and Brian hit the button that Neff had shown him earlier. Brian could hear a loud hum. There was no visible emission from the LRAD, but the effect was immediate. Brian watched in fascination as the SUV began to rock—not because of the sonic beam, but because of the occupants’ agony.
Neff had told him that the device could give a severe headache to anyone caught in the beam’s diagonal coverage 1,000 feet out; it would cause debilitating pain to anyone under 300 feet away. He hadn’t exaggerated. The passengers grimaced and clutched their ears and faces wildly. In less than a minute, the chaos inside the SUV subsided, as everyone inside appeared to either be unconscious or numbed into submission. The vehicle stood absolutely still. As directed, Brian kept the beam active but reduced the intensity.
Neff, Nili, and Madison ran toward the SUV. Neff first opened the driver’s side door and pulled the inert form out of his seat, while Madison and Nili kept their weapons at the ready. They emptied the car of three assailants in total, stripped them of weapons, and dragged them by the ankles through the snow a short distance away. Madison took a roll of duct tape out of her bag and, with Neff, began binding their hands and legs and taping their mouths.
Brian turned off the LRAD at Neff’s signal once everything was secure. Nili slipped off her headgear and strode toward the car. She let loose with the TAR and obliterated a tire, reducing the radial to a mass of black and gray spaghetti. Neff smiled at her and said something. She turned and jogged toward her Puma, rifle on her back. Madison and Neff did the same, heading in Brian’s direction. The whole incident had taken less than ten minutes.
Brian turned toward Malcolm, who was looking at the second Puma. He followed his gaze and watched Nili hop into the helicopter. She and her partner hurried to quickly secure the cannon and their gear. They took the hint: It was time to leave.
“Close the far door while I get a head count,” Madison shouted with urgency.
“Brian!” Melissa screamed from the back of the helicopter. “The entrance!”
Brian, Malcolm, and Madison whirled in the direction of the van, which was parked about thirty yards beyond their location and to the left, just off the turn in the road where it had entered. A black Hummer was a few yards inside the runway area and headed straight for their Puma. Brian saw a rifle and a head jutting out the passenger window. A shot rang out and hit the Puma broadside, the marksman’s aim thrown off by the potholes and ruts in the damaged runway hidden under the snow.
Wails of terror erupted from inside the helicopter from the young passengers. “Turn on the LRAD! Hit ’em with it!” Malcolm hollered at Brian. Knowing Nili and Kamran were packing up, he had guessed correctly that the EMP cannon couldn’t be positioned in time.
Malcolm jumped out of the Puma and motioned wildly for Nili to put on her headgear, pointing at his own. The gunfire had fixed her gaze on the road, but the motion quickly caught her attention. She discerned the intent immediately and obeyed, then pulled her weapon from her back and sprinted for the van.
Madison jumped from the Puma, ready for the LRAD burst. She caught Nili’s form out of the corner of her eye and took off for the van as well. Neff was already there, pointing his TAR out over its blunted hood at the oncoming vehicle. He squeezed the trigger, and a hail of gunfire peppered the car’s grill and front wheels. It lurched forward violently at the loss of the front tires, but it kept coming, its enraged driver struggling to keep it on course.
His heart pounding frantically, Brian flailed at the controls of the LRAD. His target in line, he spun the dials up in a rush and hit the button. In seconds the windshields of both vehicles exploded. Tiny shards of glass sprayed in all directions. Incredibly, he could hear screams from the men inside the Hummer despite the thunder of the Pumas. The now unguided vehicle rushed on, completely out of control, veering in the direction of the van—and Neff.
Brian watched in dismay. Neff, knocked to his knees by the hail of glass from the van’s windshield, was rolling on the ground in pain, holding his ears, his headgear knocked askew by his fall. For a horrible moment he feared Neff would roll into the path of the oncoming car. The deflated wheels of the Hummer hit an unseen depression in the decrepit runway with startling force, jolting the rear of its heavy frame into the air. The car’s grill dug into the ground, and it came to a sliding, scraping halt about ten yards from where Neff lay.
Brian waited breathlessly, unsure of what to do next. Madison and Nili crouched a few feet away from the motionless hulk, which had smoke billowing from its grill. Seeing Neff in pain, Nili turned and signaled to Brian, who cut the LRAD.
After a few moments Nili approached the Hummer, crouching in readiness, but there was no need. The two passengers were alive but only semiconscious. Their faces were pocked with tiny slits and gashes from the shower of windshield glass. Blood flowed from their mouths as the pain from the unexpected sonic blast had clamped their teeth onto their tongues and lips. Madison and Nili moved quickly, unfazed by the ghastly scene. They pulled the victims out, taking their weapons as they had done earlier.
“Graham needs help!” The two women stood up and saw Clarise a few feet away, kneeling next to Neff’s stricken form. They rushed to join her.
Malcolm and Brian looked on as Neff attempted to roll over to get on his knees, but Clarise held him down. Brian tried to read her lips as she shouted to Madison and Nili, both of whom appeared to argue with her for a moment. Madison relented first and ran back to the Puma.
“Time to close up shop and get out of here,” she shouted.
“What about Neff?”
“He’ll be okay. We’ve got to get these kids out of here.”
“Can he fly?”
“Clarise thinks so—maybe in a few hours. Any more than a few seconds of that thing, and he’d be in worse trouble.”
Suddenly Malcolm pulled out his handgun and fired it into the air. Nili and Clarise whirled in his direction. Malcolm pointed urgently at the Hummer. Nili turned and saw one of the men struggling to his knees, clumsily trying to gain balance while reaching for his pant leg. In their rush to check Neff, they had neglected to bind the two assailants.
Nili bolted toward the man and was on him in just a few strides. In one blinding, fluid motion she kicked his hand away from what she now saw was an ankle holster and, gathering momentum from the turn of her body, smashed the butt end of her rifle into the man’s face from the opposite direction. Blood streamed from his broken nose as he writhed on the ground in agony, gasping in pain. Madison quickly joined her and helped her tape the two securely.
Brian moved to the back of the helicopter to retrieve Melissa and Dee. Clarise and Madison met them at the door in a few minutes. They watched the other Puma rise into the air behind them.
“Neff’s in the van. One of you needs to drive,” Madison said loudly into Brian’s ear as she handed him the keys. “There’s no window glass, so it’s too cold to be in it for long. Get him somewhere warm and wait till he can fly. And leave your weapons here—we’re sticking with the plan.”
25
The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
—Blaise Pascal
“Just look at this,” Brian said as he brought the car to a standstill in the parking lot.
Melissa took a moment to watch the delicate flakes of snow land on the windshield, each one silently melting away on the heated surface. Here and there they could see the students left on campus walking hurriedly to take their final exams or to their cars to head home for the holiday break. She sighed. A picturesque ode to life in a tranquil, small town, nestling in for Christmas. The only thing missing is Nat King Cole over the radio … and a dose of reality, she mused.
“It does,” she agreed. “Three weeks ago we were at our own little war zone on the Canadian border worried about living to see Thanksgiving, and today I’m conducting my last final, looking forward to getting comfortable in front of the fireplace and having you wait on me all weekend.” She looked at him with a wry smile, and he laughed.
“And six months ago we were having lunch at Area 51, riding in UFOs, and—” He stopped, seized by a recollection.
“And what?” she asked with concern, already sensing what had caused the shift in tone.
“And watching friends die,” he finished, his voice trailing off. The lightheartedness of the moment was disappearing as fast as it had come.
“I take it back,” Melissa said, finally returning to the scene outside the windows. “Surreal doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
“I still don’t quite know what to think about the last few weeks, either,” Brian confessed, returning to the present. Both of them had expressed this uncertainty several times since the harrowing experience with Neff and his team.
“Any second thoughts about our decision to just let it be, to not tell anyone?” Melissa asked.
“No. My head tells me we broke more than a few laws out there, but my conscience tells me it was the right thing to do. I keep seeing those kids, and thinking about what they went through. It just makes my blood boil. Any member of Neff’s team could have killed those thugs easily, and arguably with no sense of regret, but they didn’t. As violent as it was, they showed amazing restraint. It was all about saving lives, not payback.”
“I know. I kept waiting for one of them to do what I would have done to the lowlifes.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“And all that money!” she said incredulously. “Graham must spend millions out of his own pocket every year to keep everything afloat.”
Brian nodded silently. Something about her wording sounded odd. He quickly realized he’d never heard her refer to Neff by his first name before.
“And you know there’s more to it than the orphanages,” she continued. “What he and his people do is noble, even heroic,” she added thoughtfully. “We were completely wrong about them—though I’d still like to know where his money comes from.”
“Me too,” Brian responded thoughtfully. “Now that I’ve been able to spend time with him and Malone, I can see that they’re solid guys, strong Christians with a mature faith, sure that they’re serving God in what they do.”
“They have a clear sense of mission,” Melissa added, a hint of approval in her voice.
“I still feel like a jerk for how I talked to them.”
“You didn’t know,” she said, patting his hand where it rested on the console between them. “Besides, you were just being protective. Anyway, the three of you appear to have hit it off this week since Malone got back.”
“I guess so. Maybe they just have an appetite for the odd. I seem to be the go-to guy for that.”
Melissa chuckled, but Brian just turned the key to read the time on the car’s clock. “We should get going. You have just enough time to drop off your sabbatical paperwork at Father Fitzgerald’s office before I take you to your classroom and go meet Neff and Malone again.”
The two of them walked carefully, hand-in-hand, through the falling snow toward the administration building, navigating small patches of ice. Once inside they walked the familiar path to President Fitzgerald’s office. Melissa excused herself to use the restroom just outside the entrance. Brian went inside and, turning to the left, greeted the president’s secretary and her assistant. He sat down in the waiting area, closing his eyes to collect his thoughts.
He’d been meeting with Neff and Malone for almost a week. It had been an interesting exercise, to say the least. They’d gone through his published article paragraph by paragraph, and then his series of posts, insisting on digitally recording every word. He’d been careful not to divulge his involvement at Area 51 or their true identities. Neither was necessary for what they wanted. Still, he had begun to sense that they suspected he hadn’t posted about several issues about which he must have strong opinions. If so, they were right on the mark. He’d been struggling over whether to bring up certain topics. He’d settled on only answering the questions that they asked.
He opened an eye, distracted by the sound of laughter. A conversation between Father Fitzgerald’s secretary and her young assistant had grown more animated since he’d come in. He listened to their co-ed concerns over a boyfriend and plans for Christmas vacation. Innocent but childish. He closed his eyes again. He’d be cutting his meeting with Neff and Malone short. He had other things to think about today—a surprise for Melissa he’d been planning for weeks. She had no idea. He smiled at the thought.
“I saw that smirk on your face, Mr. Carter.” He opened his eyes again and looked in the direction of the two women.
“What?”
“You’re laughing at us,” Gloria accused, an amused look on her face.
“No, I wasn’t—really,” he said apologetically. “I was thinking about something else.”
“A likely story. A pity, since you can probably set Molly’s mind right.”
Brian hesitated. Great. Get drawn in, or say nothing and come across as a disinterested jerk. He marveled at how women could so easily produce an internal crisis with just one sentence.
“What’s the problem?” he asked, hoping for the best.
“Molly’s sister suspects that her boyfriend may propose over the break. She’s having trouble with her feelings—you know, whether she really loves him—so she asked Molly’s advice. We were just talking about it.”
“Why do you think I’ll be able to help? I wouldn’t say men are authorities on feelings. I know I’m not.”
“But you’re happily married to a strikingly beautiful woman. I’ve never been married, so you’re the best resource in the room. Surely Dr. Carter drew the attention of a lot of men, and yet you pursued her and won her love. How did you know she was the one?”
She did it again. He’d managed to avoid just this kind of opportunity to get tongue-tied since they’d arrived in North Dakota, and now he was trapped on the last day of the semester, on what would have been his last trip to campus for months. His heart raced. He could feel the perspiration under his shirt. Stay calm.
“Well …” He hesitated, alarmed by the rapt attention of the two women. He took a breath, and his mind cleared. “Well, from my perspective, I think you know that you love someone when you’re consumed with the thought of making them happy—when there’s no question they matter more to you than yourself—and when the thought of anyone else making them happy just kills you inside.”
The two women stared blankly at him for a moment, saying nothing. Brian cleared his throat, a self-conscious expression on his face. “I know that wasn’t very lyrical, but—”
“It was perfect,” Molly said with a grateful smile. “That’s what I’m going to tell my sister. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Brian said, relieved.
“Yes, that was a wonderful answer,” Gloria echoed. “Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Carter?”
Brian turned his head sharply over his left shoulder. Melissa stood in the doorway a few feet behind him, holding her leather portfolio in front of her tummy with both hands, a feigned inattentive look on her face.
“I certainly would,” she answered cheerfully. “You’ll have to tell me all about your conversation on the way to class,” she said to Brian with a beguiling smile. “Sorry to be in a hurry, Gloria. I just wanted to drop off my paperwork.”
“Off course, dear. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”
Melissa turned and offered her hand to Brian. He took it and followed her out. They walked back to the car in silence. Neither said a word on the short drive to the classroom building.
“I’ll pick you up at five thirty,” he finally spoke, pulling
into the parking lot.
“I’ll be ready.”
“Bye, then.”
“Not so fast.”
“Don’t you have an exam?”
“It doesn’t start until I get there. The victims will be grateful for a few extra minutes to cram. Besides, you have to walk me to the building, remember?”
“How much did you hear?” he asked, reaching for the door.
“Enough.”
“Isn’t that spying?”
“It is,” she replied blankly. “What of it?”
“Well … you could have helped. It was pretty uncomfortable.”
“You pulled yourself together nicely. I do have a question, though.”
“What’s that?” he asked, trying not to look her in the eye.
“Have you ever felt that way about anyone, ever?”
Brian looked past Melissa out the window, then awkwardly at the dash. He sighed, opened his door, and exited the car. He walked around the rear of the car and then opened Melissa’s door.
“You don’t have to answer,” she said quietly as he reached for her hand.
“No, I think I do,” he contradicted her. “There’s nothing wrong with the question. If I can’t trust you, who can I trust?”
They stepped carefully onto the sidewalk and headed for the building. Brian opened the door and walked the short distance to her classroom. He reached for the classroom door, but didn’t turn the handle.
“Yes,” he said, finally opening the door, “I have felt that way about someone.”
“Thank you,” she said wistfully, forcing a smile. “I’ll see you later.”
26
In politics, nothing happens by accident. If it happened, you can bet it was planned that way.
—Franklin D. Roosevelt
“Thanks for breakfast,” Brian said appreciatively.
“Thank the dining staff,” Neff responded, smiling. “They always do a great job.”
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