“May I ask what it is, ma’am?”
She forced a slight smile. “Now that’s a private matter, soldier. That’s the whole point of why I need it back.”
The young marine, who might have been nineteen at a push, did his best to avoid eye contact, his baby cheeks reddening despite the cool air. He seemed to be quite bemused, but Janine knew that he wasn’t about to disobey orders, even if it were for someone as charismatic as a CNNA presenter.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’d really like to help you out, but my hands are tied. May I suggest that we organize someone to collect it for you and have it delivered to your office?”
Janine clenched her fists inside her pockets, thinking how best to respond. Years of experience had given her more than a few ideas. “Under the Journalism Act, without special dispensation from the Press Secretary of NASA, access to the press room is prohibited to anyone apart from members of the press. I don’t think so.”
The young marine’s face once again colored.
“Well if you aren’t going to let me through, I’d at least appreciate it if you can get Major Kennedy on the line. He and I go back a long, long time. I believe he’s your commanding officer?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m not authorized to do that,” he said, his voice raspy now.
“Come on, soldier. I’m not asking you to break the law or anything, just give a gal a break. I promise it’ll be a quick call.”
The marine paused for a moment before responding, seemingly weighing up whether or not he was technically disobeying an order. He disappeared into a small glass hut to speak to a colleague at the other end of the gate. Janine waited patiently, brushing the spitting raindrops from her face.
A minute or two later, the marine returned. He handed her a satellite phone and then made his way back to his post.
“Graham, is that you?”
“Who is this?”
“A long-time friend.”
It didn’t take him long to recognize the voice and the comment. “Janine, what the hell do you want? You’re not meant to be within a ten-mile radius of this facility.”
“Graham, when was I ever one to obey rules? Now I need to get inside the facility to get some important documents I left there a couple of days ago, and I cannot trust anyone to handle it. They are incredibly confidential and important, besides which they’re in the press room, which under the Daniel Pearl Freedom of the Press Act of May 2010 you as military are denied access to.”
“Are you crazy? No one’s allowed in. Besides which, I couldn’t get you in even if I wanted to. My security clearance isn’t high enough for that.”
Her voice took on a sultry, crooning tone as she readied herself for her speech. “Graham, I’m sure you can find a way. A talented man like you. May I remind you of something interesting that happened in the early hours of the morning of December twelve, forty-one?”
She held her breath. Would he fall for it, or would it backfire? There was a pause on the other end, the man obviously contemplating his response.
“You promised that you’d never bring that up again,” he managed in a flat, deadpan voice.
She winced at how indecently she was behaving, but then gave herself a quick shake and bit back. “Sorry, Graham, I lied. Now let me think. You might be lucky enough to escape prison, but I wouldn’t count on you remaining a major for too long.” She took in a deep breath and hated herself for what she was about to say, but she knew that it had to be said. “I have a show tomorrow night. I bet it’ll go down pretty well on the ten o’clock news. Major Graham Kennedy involved in a—”
“Janine, I could be court-martialled for this. Do you realize that?” His voice sounded desperate and pleading. “And you could end up detained in a military prison,” he lashed out.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m a big girl. You just think about how that lovely wife of yours might react to the news that her suave, brave major of a husband is in fact a—”
“Okay, okay, but you have to follow my instructions precisely. Come back tonight at twenty-hundred hours. I’ll meet you at a particular GPS location and supply you with a uniform. After changing, we’ll go inside at twenty-thirty. I have a way I think that I can get you in. Remember though, the longer you’re inside, the more likely someone will recognize you and you’ll get caught. If that happens, you’re on your own. I’ll deny everything.”
“Thank you, Graham, I knew I could count on you. Don’t worry, I should only need a few minutes in the press room. I trust those GPS coordinates will appear on my phone shortly?”
“Yes, provided the satellites are all back up and running. For some reason they’ve been playing up the last couple of days.”
“Well let’s hope for your sake they’re online.”
Janine abruptly ended the call and gazed up at the blackening sky. She felt a shiver run through her body, and she wasn’t sure if it was the cold or her behavior that was responsible. She handed the phone back to the nervous young marine, who did his best to avoid her gaze. A pang of guilt washed over her, and for a brief moment she felt disgusted with herself. Having to resort to such tactics was low, but these days, you had to use whatever tricks you had up your sleeve if you wanted to get ahead. Besides which, the major was certainly no angel. On some level, he reminded her of Adam, a cheating narcissistic chauvinist. With that reasoning, she felt the guilt slowly seep away and she returned to her car, peered at her reflection in the rear-view mirror and grinned. Her goal had just gotten one step closer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Professor Hart, I presume? I’m Steve Winslow and this is Sheri Johnson.”
“How do you do?” Alastair grunted, shaking their hands.
“I’ve heard a lot about your work,” Steve said. “Fantastic piece you did on the decryption of the Kazakhstan smugglers back in thirty-three. Brilliant. I thought we’d lose our people, but you got the code just in time.”
Alastair’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t a fan of sycophants. “A bit of serendipity involved with that one, my boy. Anyhow, sounds like we’ll have our hands full right here. Would you mind briefing me on what you’ve accomplished so far?”
Alastair rubbed his left knee. It had been playing up ever since he left Scotland six hours ago.
The threesome sat around Steve’s console. As he spoke to it, it began coming to life, filling up with various numbers, mostly threes, and Steve explained the significance of them to the professor, while Sheri gave him a brief overview of the EMB project.
After about thirty minutes of chatter about gamma waves, waterholes, megahertzes and background noise, amongst other things, the professor was brought up to speed. He was tired, sore, information-saturated and needed a pick-me-up, so he turned to the others. “Excuse me for a minute, while I visit the men’s room.”
He rose from his chair and disappeared around the corner through the electronic sliding doors that led to the washroom. After making sure he was alone, he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a small bottle of Johnny Walker Blue. He took a descent slug, sighed and then watched his round, swollen face relax in the mirror. It irritated him that his fluffy white beard appeared scruffy and unkempt, but he was too tired to do anything about it. He quickly rinsed his mouth out with minty mouthwash, which he kept in the other pocket, before returning to the main room.
“I’ve been meaning to do that ever since I disembarked from the plane,” he snorted.
“Well then, Professor,” said Sheri. “I might leave it to you to see what you can make of all this mumbo jumbo. Excuse me, but I need to check on Chloe, my daughter. She should be about ready for her nap.”
Sheri grabbed her bag and disappeared down the corridor.
“Me, too, I have some personal issues to sort out. I’ll be back later, but pleased to finally meet you, Prof,” said Steve, winking at Alastair, who was left alone to his thoughts.
Mmm. What’s the opening move here? Queens Gambit or possibly the F
ranco-Benoni. Perhaps neither, perhaps we should go straight for the jugular with an aggressive attack.
With that he put himself to work, looking for a common thread hidden somewhere beneath the clutter of number threes. This was not going to be an easy game. He was not playing against his grandson now.
* * * *
Major Graham Kennedy crept into the security office at NASA HQ. Being a well-built man, he struggled to do so quietly, his large frame doing its best to navigate the tight spaces between the desks. Emotionally speaking, he was a mess. Graham suffered from panic attacks, a secret which only he and his therapist knew about. They would come on at any time, but with the appropriate medication the condition was usually manageable. That was until that phone call from Janine Fuller had arrived. It had set him off like an alarm clock, and he was struggling to contain the tightness in his chest that had been building all day. Once again, like numerous times in the past, he briefly toyed with the idea of informing his wife, Claire, about his problem, but decided against it. After all, this was a private matter, and who knew how she’d handle being told that her brave, proud army major of a husband was nothing more than a scared, pathetic drug-popping wimp. Claire was a loving, wonderful wife and there was no point in putting that at risk. Perhaps she would understand, but it was unlikely and far too risky. Some things, like the terrible misjudgement that took place in Israel three years ago, were probably just better left unsaid.
Although Graham had access to the security room, questions could be asked as to why he needed to be there, so he had waited until the room was empty, and then quickly dashed inside. The safe he was after was right at the back of the room, and he had to brush past a multitude of tightly packed desks and chairs in order to gain access to it, all the time desperately trying to remain quiet.
Once at the safe, he pulled on some gloves he’d put in his uniform pocket and entered a code into the keypad. Fortunately, this was an old-style safe that hadn’t yet been updated with biometric computerization, due to an oversight around ten years ago when NASA was inundated by the fallout from the Mars calamity. He knew it would be next to impossible to trace who had unlocked it.
The safe snapped open. A thin film of sweat had formed on his hands, and he felt his heart pounding heavily inside his chest. He thought he heard a noise in the corridor and spun around, but to his relief there was no one there.
“Calm down, Graham,” he muttered to himself. He could feel the panic once again slowly rising from the pit of his stomach. What the hell am I doing?
He contemplated a quick escape, but then thought about Claire, and what Janine’s revelation would do to her and to their marriage, not to mention little Michelle. With that in mind, he gathered some inner strength and reached inside the safe. He felt for the retinal hologram, the size of a dime, retrieved it and quickly shut the door. It locked automatically. Just as he was about to begin his retreat, he heard the distinct sound of footsteps getting closer. He closed his eyes, held his breath and crouched under the desk. He thought his heart would explode.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Through the opaque glass he saw a shadow. It passed back and forth, and he wasn’t sure whether it was a man or a woman. He was terrified the door would swing open at any second, catching him red-handed.
He waited. The figure moved back one more time, then seemed to lose interest and disappeared.
Graham rose to his feet and tiptoed to the door. After checking the hallway and making sure there was no one in sight, he slipped out of the room and briskly began making his way back to his office. En-route he turned a corner and found himself face to face with the general. Caught off guard, he forgot to salute.
“Major, haven’t you forgotten something?” said the general sharply, his stern face coloring.
Graham quickly saluted. “Sorry, sir, it’s been a bit crazy here today,” he responded, his heart still racing.
“Tell me about it, my office has gone mad. I’ve had about a thousand calls from zoologists and marine biologists asking me to come clean about what we’ve done to change the Earth’s magnetic field. Apparently, a whole bunch of birds and whales got lost while migrating, and they seem to have this notion that the military is somehow behind it. Do the idiots really think we have the resources and ability to change the polarity of the Earth’s magnetic field? I wish we did. Can you imagine the possibilities that would create for us, Major?”
The major nodded, not quite sure how to respond, wiping some congealing sweat away from his brow.
“Mind you, we’re lucky we have GPS navigation back on line. Can you imagine the nautical and aeronautical chaos that would be occurring now if we still relied on magnetic compasses for navigation?”
“Yes chaos, sir,” grunted the major. He felt a bead of sweat drip slowly down his right cheek, resting in the corner of his mouth. He prayed the general wouldn’t notice.
“You alright, Major? You look a bit under the weather.”
“No, I’m fine, sir. As I said, just busy today, like you’ve been.”
“How is that lovely wife of yours? Clarisse, I believe?”
“Claire, sir. And she’s just fine, thank you.”
“Good to hear. You take good care of her. A man needs a good woman in his life.” He smacked Graham firmly on the back. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at 0800 hours for a brief, then.”
“Yes, sir.”
This time the major remembered to salute the general before he made his way back to his office. His heart rate slowed as he shut the door behind him. The crescendo wave of terror that had risen within him gradually subsided. I must be fucking crazy.
* * * *
September 14, 17:50
“I’m sorry, Janine. I just thought you might be interested in researching the story. All the major networks are running with it. The scientific community is going crazy trying to work it out.”
“Alan, why in hell’s name would I be interested in some birds getting confused and flying off in the wrong direction? I have bigger fish to fry here. Can’t you get someone else to cover it?”
“Okay, Janine, just this one time, I’ll let you off the hook. I’ll give it to Bill, but I have to tell you that I’m really quite disappointed in you. You’d better deliver on this project of yours. I’m still not even sure what the hell you’re on to.”
“Bill, what’s wrong with Susan?” she blurted out. She was on speakerphone, removing the thick makeup she’d earlier pasted on for the benefit of the guard. “The girl works harder than anyone I know. For god’s sake, give her a break.” She knew how hard it could be for women in the male-dominated world of broadcasting, and was keen to push the issue whenever she could.
“Are you trying to tell me how to do my job? You’re skating on thin ice, yet again.”
“No, of course not, Alan, but I’d hate to think you were a chauvinist. More importantly, Stephanie Keyes would hate to think that.”
Stephanie Keyes was the new CEO of the CNNA conglomeration and a hardened feminist. She had helped Janine rise through the ranks, and the two of them were on excellent terms, and Alan knew it.
“Is that a threat, Janine? I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“No, honey, of course not. Why would you ever think that? Anyhow, I’m sure you’ll give the job to the most deserving person. Now I have to go. I’ll be in touch and you won’t be disappointed.”
Janine checked the GPS coordinates she’d been given, and then allowed the automatic chauffeur to drive the car as far as it would go on Old Grove Drive. After that, she was forced to abandon the vehicle and walk the rest of the way on foot. She was blissfully unaware of the Mercedes Cabriolet that was parked discreetly out of view behind a tree.
After making her way past the US forestry ranger station, her GPS led her into Hahamongna Watershed Park, where she walked about another three hundred feet. Eventually, the GPS alarmed, and she knew she had arrived at the correct coordinates.
She quickly checked her pocket fo
r the devices and was comforted to find them there. She had called in yet another favor from one of her former boyfriends who worked for Nokia. Jason Keller had not been thrilled by the idea of supplying her with the latest state-of-the-art cell-phone technology, as the equipment was only meant to be sold to intelligence agencies and used for spying, but as usual, she had managed to convince him to donate it to her. Now she was fully equipped and ready for her mission, the tension and excitement inside her was stealthily growing.
She looked at her watch: 19:53. Seven minutes early. She waited another three minutes, after which time she noticed a faint beam of light sweeping from side to side within the surrounding bushes, its intensity growing as it drew closer. Then a formidable figure appeared. Major Graham Kennedy was fully kitted up in his battledress uniform, carrying a large green duffel bag with him. He unzipped it and pulled out a camouflage uniform, which he quickly unfolded. “I must be completely mad. Here, put this on. I hope it fits.”
He handed the uniform to Janine, who immediately began stripping out of her civilian attire.
She noticed the major’s eyes watching her slender body. It was disgusting how a happily married man could be so fickle. He failed to say a word as she slipped into the uniform.
“Don’t look so worried, Major. I won’t get caught, I never do.”
“If you do, I’m denying everything. They can’t prove a thing.”
In the dimly lit shadows she thought she noticed him trembling slightly, but she wasn’t sure.
“Calm down, Gray baby. Don’t take life so seriously,” she remarked calmly, confident in her ability to talk herself out of the most perilous of situations, should she get caught.
She finished dressing and swiftly transferred the two small devices from the blouse she’d just removed into her uniform trouser pocket. She then pulled on her combat boots. Her long red hair was already tied back, and she completed the uniform with a military-style baseball cap. She pulled out a small mirror to admire her new look. The transformation was remarkable and she barely recognized her own reflection.
The Waterhole Page 6