“She’s done,” Ritter said. He unbolted the access door and allowed Janice to exit Holcomb’s cell. The agent’s body odor filtered out before Ritter closed the door. Even the chairman grimaced and stepped back.
A few beads of sweat rolled down Janice’s forehead. She blinked her eyelids in rapid succession, even while flipping through the notebook in her hands.
Stone dismissed Ritter and then said, “What can you tell us, Janice?”
She used the back of one her hands to wipe away the sweat. Her features projected tiredness. Red surrounded her blue eyes. Bags pushed their way up toward the redness.
“If you need a minute or two, Janice,” Stone said.
“This bastard helped kill my brother! Sir, why did I have to find out that way?”
The chairman spoke up, conducting an explanation with wafting hands. “That was my decision. I felt it was necessary to test you under stress. General Stone tried to convince me otherwise.”
Janice looked the chairman up and down. Her eyes narrowed on his. “God, chew some gum, whoever you are.”
The chairman, for once, held still. And he closed his mouth.
“Test me? General Stone, who is—”
“At ease, Janice. He is the working group’s chairman. You shall address him as ‘sir.’ You will show him the same respect you give me, understood?”
Janice bowed her head at the chairman. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m just very tired. This murderer has worn me out.”
“That’s understandable,” the chairman said. “And I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Janice,” Stone said, reaching out and putting his hand on her shoulder, “can you tell us what you’ve learned?”
Janice sniffled and nodded. She wiped her nose, and then said, “Harrison’s hiding evidence in a safe-deposit box and a storage unit in Tucson. I have the specifics written down.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away before continuing. “I got some sense about a globe in his office that his father gave him. He thinks it contains an alien power cell.” Janice paused and gave Stone an inquisitive look.
“Go on, Janice,” Stone said.
“Yes, sir,” Janice said, looking at the notebook. “Harrison gave the skull of an Air Force pilot to that piece of shit in there.” She thrusted her thumb in Holcomb’s direction. The agent laid unconscious on the floor, snoring. “Holcomb got the pilot’s civilian dental records and gave those along with the skull to Margaret O’Donnell, an FBI forensics specialist at Quantico. He seems certain that she is working alone on this, but not at her lab. Too much scrutiny possible there. She’s gone to a colleague’s lab in Richmond, but Holcomb doesn’t know who that is.”
Stone asked her to pause while he stepped aside to discuss the information with Colonel Ritter.
During the break, the chairman said, “That’s an interesting pin, Janice.”
She ran a finger across the silver roadrunner on her sweater and said, “Just something I picked up while in Arizona. These birds are all over the desert. I like the way—”
“Do you have anything more specific on Harrison and Taylor?” Stone said, rejoining the group.
“Yes, sir,” Janice said. “Holcomb hopes they departed the country. He believes they probably left out of San Diego, heading for Russia.”
Stone and the chairman jerked.
“Their plan,” Janice said, “involved working with the Russian government to bring international pressure on the United States into exposing Saint Mary. They have idealistic notions about truth and believe the Russians would help because of potential technology procurements.”
The chairman stepped aside and made a phone call.
“You’ve done very well, Janice,” Stone said.
“Thank you, General.” She yawned and politely covered her mouth. “Who is the chairman calling?”
“Associates. You must get some rest, Janice. The exercise is still on for tonight. Do you think you’ll be up for it?”
Janice tore pages from the notebook. “I’ll be fine, but you are right, I should rest.” She gave Stone the pages, momentarily brushing her hand along his. “I hope you can read my writing.”
For Stone, sexual arousal swelled within him less frequently than his earlier years. This time, however, the rising surge inside his groin accompanied Janice’s touch. He held the pages in front of him, just below his waistline. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
Janice nodded and departed the detention area, Stone’s eyes following her out the door. When the chairman joined Stone again, the General suggested they make additional calls from his office. They exited the area just as two men in black entered it.
They initiated more traditional methods of interrogation on Holcomb soon thereafter.
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During the drive north from Richmond, Virginia, to the Catoctin Zoological Park in Maryland, Maggie O’Donnell had experienced high winds, rain, freezing rain, and then light snow as she neared her destination. She had left her MINI Cooper behind and opted to borrow her colleague’s Mercedes sedan in Richmond. Besides, her car would have been too easy to spot on the road, bad weather or not.
Sitting in the Zoo’s nearly empty parking lot, Maggie noticed the snow had stopped, but the gray clouds overhead looked ominous, and promised more winter weather was ahead. To help her relax from the stressful drive, she turned on the car’s radio and selected a classical music station. In the seat next to her, the remains of Major Blair kept her company. Several dental examinations had confirmed it. The skull was that of the Air Force officer who, according to what Art Holcomb had told her, was officially at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean and not in a shallow grave at Area 51. Realizing that, while also thinking of Holcomb, made her heart race.
Where is he?
She feared the worst, and hoped Harrison would arrive soon.
As she looked around the parking lot, she detected movement, but it did originate from approaching vehicles on the ground as she expected. In the distance, she noticed a dark aircraft. It flew low, well below the cloud cover, and it approached from the southeast.
Not moving very fast. They’ll spot me instantly.
Maggie turned off the radio, felt for the keys in the ignition, and fastened her seatbelt. She estimated her best chance of escape would be to head north on the Catoctin Mountain Highway, away from the D.C. area.
But go where?
While starting up the car’s engine, Maggie glanced again at the aircraft. It was much lower and closer now. She could hear its loud engines and whooping rotor blades. The helicopter hovered and then circled around the zoo heading west.
Heading toward me.
As the helicopter drew nearer, its spinning rotor blades thumped harder and harder. Maggie felt the vibrations shake her car and rattle her body. She jammed the transmission into reverse and glanced in her rearview mirror, ready to release the brake.
But she froze.
A black Chevy Suburban skidded to a stop right behind her. Now trapped, she stared at the vehicle in the mirror. She expected and waited for her immediate capture.
Who will dig up my skull?
But no one exited the vehicle. For a moment, Maggie looked away and searched for the helicopter. She could see it out her side window. It hovered just north of her car, no higher than two hundred feet in the air.
Getting a better look at it now, Maggie saw that it sported dark green and white paint and looked like one of those she had seen in Washington, D.C. It was the kind of helicopter that shuttled the President and other officials around the capital, or to and from Andrews Air Force Base. As it hovered, its nose pointed west, but then it rotated and faced its nose east. It rose up and circled overhead again.
Just then, three men jumped out of the Chevrolet parked behind her. They wore dark suits and earpieces. Maggie watched them scan their surroundings. One of them approached her. Through the window, she heard him say her name.
“Ms. O’Donnell? Margaret O’Donnell?” Despite the thumping helic
opter, his voice sounded calm and benevolent. “May I please speak with you, ma’am?”
Maggie took a deep breath and lowered the window. “I am Maggie O’Donnell. And you are?”
“Secret Service, ma’am. I am Agent Buck Walton. Rock around the clock, ma’am, rock around the clock.” Pointing at the helicopter above, Walton said, “Your friends wanted me to tell you that. We need you to come with us, if you don’t mind.”
“Uh…” Maggie leaned her head out the window and craned her neck. The helicopter was higher now, but still hovering overhead. “I don’t mind at all.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed the bag with Blair’s skull, x-rays, and test results. After she hopped out and jogged with Agent Walton to the Chevrolet, she waved at the sky.
The helicopter circled once more then headed northwest, toward Camp David.
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Aboard the helicopter, Harrison waved back to Maggie through a closed window and watched her enter the Chevrolet. He turned to the other passengers and said, “She’s safe, and so is the evidence about Major Blair. We’ll learn more from her once she joins us at Camp David.”
Taylor and Senator Vaughn both nodded. George Vaughn, as well as Henry and Pete Zemdarsky, were not aboard. They remained quartered at Andrews while the others headed to Camp David with the Secret Service.
“Good,” Taylor said, “good.”
Vaughn wrinkled her forehead. “Gentlemen, you have accumulated some key evidence. But—”
“But is it convincing?” Harrison said.
“My point exactly, Mr. Harrison. We are asking the President to put a lot on the line, and if there is any doubt, then we risk Saint Mary getting the best of us. I can appeal to him as a friend, but that will only go so far.”
“I can testify to him about any aspect of Saint Mary,” Taylor said.
“And you should be prepared to, General,” Vaughn said. “But…”
“Let me see if I can help out here,” Harrison said. He glanced at the globe. It sat next to Vaughn. Her right hand rested on its north pole. “The President and anyone he needs to convince will require definitive proof of Saint Mary’s existence and nature.”
“Right,” Vaughn said.
Taylor leaned forward.
Harrison continued, saying, “Then let’s set a trap so they reveal themselves. We lure them in with live bait.” He looked squarely at Taylor. “General Taylor, myself, and Maggie.”
Vaughn raised her eyebrows. “Those are high stakes.”
“They are already quite high. Sign me up,” Taylor said.
“Me too,” Harrison said, “but we need to know the President won’t wait to prepare. If Saint Mary takes the bait, then that should be the green light to take action and not simply to prepare for it.”
“Otherwise we’ll be too late,” Vaughn said. “Is that what you are saying, Mr. Harrison?”
“Yes, and that should be all the proof they’ll need.”
“It will force him to act, and to act immediately.” Vaughn tilted her head to one side and looked up at the ceiling inside the Helicopter’s cabin. “I wonder if Saint Mary’s leaders can feel the noose tightening around their necks.”
Chapter 48
Tensions, Tests, and Torture
At North Range, clocks indicated 6:00 p.m., local time.
CNN opened their news broadcast with a story about the rising tensions between China and Taiwan. Some limited information also indicated North Korea mobilized troops near its border with South Korea, and that the President was considering issuing mobilization orders for several military units as a precaution. A few minutes later, members of the working group felt some relief as CNN reported no new information concerning the alleged American spies, Harrison and Taylor, who were aiding Russian nationalists.
General Stone lowered the volume on the conference room’s television and said, “Everything has taken hold quite well thus far.”
“Yes, our story wasn’t even the lead this time,” Colonel Bennet said.
“What is our update?” General Lanham asked.
The chairman leaned forward and read from a legal pad. A coffee stain on it delayed his response. He looked closer and said, “The hybrid-assisted interrogations went extremely well. She confirmed items we discussed earlier as well as some additional leads.”
“And the traditional methods?” Admiral Horner said.
“In process,” Stone said. “But they take longer. It may be a while before they can confirm anything.”
The chairman stiffened his back and cleared his throat before continuing. “Apparently, Harrison and Taylor may be trying to flee the United States and head for Russia. Their plan was to have that country bring international pressure on the U.S. government into exposing Saint Mary.”
“Naive,” Admiral Horner said.
A smile crept across Colonel Bennet’s thin lips.
“Yes,” the chairman said. “Taylor did book a flight from San Diego to San Francisco for last night, however, according to airline records, he never boarded.”
“We must assume he is traveling under an alias,” Horner said. Sweat dribbled down his forehead.
“Of course, of course,” Stone said. The words hoisted impatience at the navy’s representative. Almost as soon as he finished saying the remark, Stone shook his head and waved an invisible eraser.
“We’ve provided their identifiers and physical descriptions overseas,” the chairman said. “Interpol is providing us with assistance. Ironically, the Russian government is assisting us as well.”
“Won’t that just work in their favor?” Lanham said.
“We’ve fed Interpol and the Russians an alternative cover story,” the chairman said. He paused and looked at the men seated around the table. His gazed settled on Bennet. “Taylor is an arms and narcotics dealer.”
Bennet’s green and brown eyes grew indistinguishable. His thin smile diminished. “So, won’t they be confused about reports of Harrison’s involvement with nationalists?”
“No, they won’t. We’ve explained that their primary work is guns and drugs, and the nationalists are customers, their middlemen, and that espionage is a side line effort for blackmail,” the chairman said. “In the end it really doesn’t matter what we say or do, just as long as we get what we want.”
Bennet hesitated, looking hurt that General Stone and the chairman excluded him from the new disinformation effort that flew back and forth across the globe. Something twitched on his face. Stone saw it, but he remained uncertain which feature had moved so fast. Bennet nodded and slid back into his chair.
“They could be anywhere,” Lanham said, shrugging.
“Yes, they are still out there somewhere, but we will find them,” Stone said, eyes and words focusing on the weapons specialist. “We will find them.”
Lanham averted Stone’s scrutiny. He sat up straight and tugged on the lapels of his unbuttoned uniform jacket.
“The hybrid provided us with the location of a storage unit in Tucson that Harrison rented. Inside the unit, our agents found a rucksack and equipment we believe he and Holcomb used in the recovery of Major Blair’s remains. A compass, shovel, map, GPS receiver, night-vision goggles, and so on.” The chairman paused, sighing, and then he said, “However, the hybrid discovered a fourth conspirator during her interrogation of the FBI agent.”
“Jesus Christ!” Horner said, bellowing.
“It’s under control,” Stone said, rubbing his dry forehead.
“Calm down, gentlemen,” the chairman said, intervening. He stared at Horner across the table. “Now that I have your attention, I will finish. Holcomb provided an FBI forensics specialist, Margaret O’Donnell, with Major Blair’s skull and civilian dental records. FBI personnel are currently trying to locate her.”
Admiral Horner drifted in his chair.
Noticing this, the chairman said, “And we will find her.”
Silence engulfed the room. Horner anchored firmly.
“Now,” the chairman s
aid, “if there are no more questions, we have a demonstration to attend to.”
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Professor Moresby rested. His eyes wandered over the computer screen in front of him. He checked the commands and coding, ensuring their correctness. Assured, Moresby uploaded the data to the computer at their destination. Two miles away, across North Range’s runway and tucked into the side of a mountain, the security bunker’s computer sent its acknowledgment.
“We are ready, Janice,” Moresby said.
Next to him, Janice reclined on a padded sofa. She yawned and stretched. “Sorry, I guess I’m still a bit tired.”
“This will be over soon enough. Then, we can all get some much-needed rest. The demonstration itself shouldn’t take too long.”
“I’ll get my coat.”
Moresby leaned forward and switched off the desk lamp. Standing, he watched Janice take her coat from the closet. A second later, she pulled his coat out too and handed it to him. “You’re so helpful,” Moresby said. “I didn’t even think to put it on. Thank you.”
“It’ll be a cold ride out to the bunker. Don’t want you to get sick at a time like this.”
“No, no,” Moresby said, chuckling. “Shall we head upstairs? Supposedly, the van will be waiting for us.”
Janice took the professor by his arm and led the way. They exited the office and walked through a dim laboratory. With the exception of a dusty chalkboard, the room remained largely unused and still exuded the odors of fresh paint and new furniture. In one corner, plastic sheathing covered the entrance to a quarantine and examination center. Janice looked away and leaned her head against Moresby’s shoulder.
Gray eyes gazed at her. “It’s a stressful time for you.”
“For all of us.”
“Yes, but, I’m glad to say, you have handled yourself very well. Our progress is due, in large part, to your hard work. Now, let’s go knock their socks off!”
Janice smiled. “Thanks, Francis, but I couldn’t have done it without you.”
After a brief walk through the hallway outside the lab, they rode up an elevator to the main floor of North Range’s bio-research facility. Its deserted lobby area made it easy for them to navigate to a blue van parked outside the building. Three air policemen and the driver, also a guard, waited for them beside the vehicle.
Truth Insurrected: The Saint Mary Project Page 35