Alice tilted her head for a moment watching Niles, knowing he had been shocked by the file the senator had given him to read. She turned and eyed the two men standing next to her. "He needs to be right here. You gentlemen better get used to the idea that we're basically on a war footing here. Never before has the center been placed on total lockdown and all departments deployed for one specific Event. Our need to find that crash site is paramount, absolutely paramount."
"Where is the senator this morning?" Collins asked.
She smiled. "He's sleeping, personal assistant ordered rest." She winked at the men, then walked over toward the middle of the room and looked closer at one of the satellite images for a moment, then shook her head and stepped back. "He may bellow and bark at the rest of us, but at least he still knows who is smarter. But I'm afraid both he and the president are taking tremendous heat from the Joint Chiefs about this incident. Everyone who's aware of our existence thinks we're way over our heads, and I'm afraid all the old agency enemies are coming out of the woodwork on this one."
They stood there for a moment, not knowing what else to say, then Niles started raising his voice about something.
"This is why I called you both," she said as Niles took a printout from one of the techs. "This doesn't look good."
Niles was calming when he noticed Alice, Jack, and Carl on the walkway above the desk area, and he hurriedly moved up the stairs to the three carrying the printout and handed it to Alice.
"See what you can do with this, will you?" He saw the blank expressions on Everett's and Collins's faces and tried to quickly explain while Alice read his findings. "That son of a bitch Reese was on the new system yesterday and observed the saucer attack in real time. Europa, our newest and most powerful computing system, says he made a damn copy of it!" Niles grimaced and snatched his glasses off, then looked at the faces before him. "Reese is missing! He didn't report for work this morning. Jack, he has to be found and found fast, there's no telling what he's up to." Then Niles abruptly turned and placed his glasses back on and irately called out to one of the computer team about scanning a search area too fast, then he turned back to face Collins. "I mean it, Jack, this is no good. It's against all our rules here in the computer center," he called out as he turned away and went back to the main floor to continue his search for the saucer.
Alice watched him go and shook her head. Then she again scanned the paper she held. She removed her glasses and looked at the two men in front of her, thinking for a moment.
She quickly walked to an empty workstation and seated herself in the large swivel chair, then opened a drawer, rummaged through it for a moment, then closed it. She repeated this with the other drawers until she found what she was looking for. The two officers exchanged a questioning glance as they watched.
Finally she looked up and smiled. "Reese may be working for a very dangerous enemy."
"He's on the senator's watch list, along with almost everyone with a clearance to the computer center," Everett said.
"I take it it's unusual for him to miss work like this?" Jack asked.
Alice thought a moment while staring at the darkened computer monitor on the missing man's desk. "Not in and of itself, no, but like everyone here, he does have his quarters inside the complex. The computer system would have notified him of an Event alert, so he hasn't checked his messages if he's off base, as per his orders." She wheeled around in her chair. "He's gone bad. Niles is right. He has to be found."
"What can we do?" Jack asked.
Alice turned back to the blank computer screen and tapped a few commands into the keyboard and the monitor lit up. At the same time she reached behind her chair without looking, offering to Collins the paper that Compton had given her earlier.
Collins took the offered printout. It was columns of military times and what looked like computer commands.
"That is a printout of the last few commands that were asked of this station. SOP for someone who doesn't show up for work, then signed off base and didn't return. We automatically check their computer for what its last commands had been."
Collins handed the paper to Everett, and he too looked it over.
"There," Alice said, straightening up. "All phone lines are monitored and recorded in this facility. It seems Mr. Reese used his security clearance and his position in the computer center to shut down the monitoring devices for a bank of phones in The Ark. He tried to cover his tracks, but doing that with someone like Niles and Pete Golding is a foolish thing. It took both of them all of three minutes to get through the firewall Reese had set up on this hard drive. Now, according to this"--she gestured at the screen--"there were only two calls made from the complex at the time the bartender noticed him inside the club. One was to a home inside Las Vegas City limits that we checked on already, made by a sergeant to a woman he met at Lake Mead. The other call went to a home in Vidalia, California." Alice picked up the phone and punched a few numbers and then waited. "Send the sergeant in, please," she said, and hung up. "I had Staff Sergeant Bateman in the security center run a few things for me using your network into the Europa XP-7, the new Cray system Niles was just speaking of."
As they waited, the comp center doors slid open with a hiss and the sergeant was allowed in. He saw Alice and walked up to the small group. He stood at attention when he came to a stop and noticed Everett and Collins.
"Normally I would have gone through you of course, Jack, but as I said, you don't even know your department's capabilities yet, and this was rather important and urgent. I believe the sergeant and Europa have given you a starting point in your search for Reese, but listen to how it was found in case you find a flaw in the pattern."
Collins just nodded, and then looked from Alice to the sergeant.
"This is what we have so far, ma'am," the sergeant said, holding a file out to Alice.
"Just give us a verbal report. If I look at one more scrap of paper this morning..."
The sergeant nodded and looked at Jack. "What we did was run the two numbers through NSA. They were both dead ends as no calls were actually made to those phones from Nevada. This was confirmed by AT&T, Sprint, and the actual residents of those homes. Thus we were left with a dead end. Our friend had managed somehow to scramble the hard lines leading out of the club and the transmission to the phone company's Comsat. We were stuck until we examined the security monitors from The Ark." The sergeant handed the major a cased computer disc. "We came up with this thanks to Dr. Cummings in Photo-Recon."
Jack took the disc and handed it to Alice, who inserted it into the hard drive at Reese's station. Alice used the touch feature the system was set up with, and her finger touched the header Sur. Ark. Reese., meaning surveillance at The Ark on Robert Reese. Immediately a video started that showed Reese walking to one of the pay phones. They watched as he slid a card into the side of the black instrument, then dialed a series of numbers. He then hung up and walked out of the bar. It even framed the bartender inquiring something of him as he exited.
"What in the hell did we just see?" Carl asked.
The sergeant just nodded his head at the video. "The doc fixed this up for us."
On the screen the same video started, then suddenly stopped. The screen started flashing the frames forward one frame at a time, at the same instant the picture was computer-enhanced to zoom in on the keypad on the face of the pay telephone as Reese's fingers jerked over the metal numbers.
"We washed this through Europa and asked the computer what numbers Reese could have been dialing." The sergeant pointed to the screen as a full-framed picture of Robert Reese appeared as he just stepped up to the phone. The frame froze and a computer-generated tracking grid covered the man's entire body. "Now here, Europa started her measurements. We at first thought the new system had misunderstood the command, but we were in for a surprise, at least I was."
As they watched, green numbers started appearing in rapid succession along Reese's body and changed as he moved and leaned forward into
the small kiosk that the phones were tucked away in. The grid stayed fluid and conformed to his body as he moved, changing the computer's calculated measurements. As he started dialing, another grid, this one red, appeared over the keypad his fingers had just started to touch. More numbers appeared, small arrows going this way and that across the numbered pad and Reese's fingers.
"Doc Cummings explained what was happening. He said that Europa started by taking the video measurements of Reese himself, height, estimated arm length, and so on. Then it measured the height of the phone kiosk from blueprints of the complex, and the height of the keypad in relevant terms to Reese's measurements. As he punched numbers, the computer really went to work, running the constant figures his movements caused in minute increments."
Again they watched as the numbers were now changing at a rapid pace, so fast they couldn't keep up with the calculations. When Reese stopped punching numbers, the calculations stopped. Then a window opened and on the display over a hundred phone numbers appeared. Some had the same area codes, but most looked as if they were random.
"Europa narrowed the phone numbers Reese could have called down to a hundred and fourteen just through the measurements taken of his movements in relative distance to the phone height and distance from his body and the minute distance his fingers moved over the numbered buttons on the phone's keypad."
"That's still a lot of numbers, Sergeant," Everett said. He looked at Jack and saw he was smiling. The major must have known what was coming.
"What did Europa use to cross-reference these numbers?" Jack asked.
"That's good, Major. Yes, she did cross-reference."
As they watched the screen, the monitor tinted green. They could see the tape as it played again and Reese once more stood before the phone. This time the computer enhanced the keypad in the green light that engulfed the scene and expanded the picture to where only the keypad and Reese's fingers were visible. When Reese was done, several of the metal numbers were glowing a light red. As the three watched, the computer-enhanced glow started to fade, but not before a series of six phone numbers popped into another window that had opened on the monitor's screen.
"The computer picked up the oil smudges from Reese's finger on the pads," the sergeant said. "The light in the club provided the difference in the sheen off the metal, some after they were just punched, leaving a different shine on the numeric pads from the oil. Thus the oil on the pads was not dried like the others, so they produced a different reflection in the club's lighting, and the computer deduced it had been these numbers just depressed."
"But there are too many numbers for an actual phone number," Everett stated.
"That was the easy part. Europa took the first set of one hundred and fourteen phone numbers from the measurements and cross-referenced them with the second set of six from the optical scan, and she boiled it down to two phone possibilities. Then she noted that some numbers may have been pushed twice, and maybe even three times. Thus you see too many numbers for actual private numbers. Then she boiled the numbers down to two by processing the remaining numbers as some were eliminated as not being actual, according to the national database of phone books, and now we have two, and they are both local. The first was Kindercare, a small preschool out on Flamingo Boulevard, in Vegas. The other is a strip club called the Ivory Coast Lounge. I think you know which one my bet would be on," the sergeant said.
"Amazing," Jack said, looking from the screen to the young sergeant. "That's good work. Thank you, Sergeant."
Everett just looked at the young enlisted man and smiled as the sergeant turned and left the computer center. He turned to look at Jack, but he was watching Alice as she started for the door herself.
Alice waited for the men to catch up in the long circular hallway.
"Okay, we need to know first his condition, then find out if Reese passed along anything about the Event," Jack said.
Alice looked Jack over closely. "We take it very seriously when our people come up missing. We take it extremely seriously when it's on the heels of what happened yesterday. I don't like the look of this, and neither does Niles."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I took the liberty of alerting Gate Two. If you would go see Gunny Campos, he'll have your identification and sidearms. Go get Reese and bring him back to us. And fast."
THIRTEEN
Event Center, Gate Two, Gold City Pawnshop, Las Vegas
10.00 Hours
It was close to ten in the morning when Collins and Everett hurriedly stepped from the elevator into the pawnshop. Jack looked around and thought how the world had changed for him since he'd stepped into this very shop yesterday. It seemed it had been months and not just a single revolution of the clock since he had been in this dingy and dusty store.
They were met as the doors of the elevator closed behind them. Campos was there with Staff Sergeant Mendenhall and two other men. All were dressed in civilian clothing and Mendenhall was smiling.
"What is it, Sergeant?" asked the major.
"After your arrival at the center, we were laying bets on what security personnel would be reassigned. I'm just glad to have a job this morning, sir."
"The morning's still young," Collins replied, letting his eyes linger for a moment on the staff sergeant. He turned and asked the older marine, "You have something for us, Gunny?"
The old man nodded in affirmation and produced two large manila envelopes. He gave one each to Collins and Everett. They opened them, and inside were two forms of ID and a badge in a leather wallet and a holstered nine-millimeter Browning automatic with two extra clips of ammunition. Collins raised his eyebrows.
"Better to have too much than not enough," Everett said, sliding the two magazines into his back pocket.
Collins did the same and clipped the holstered nine-millimeter into the waistband of his jeans under his Wind-breaker and toward the small of his back. Then he looked at the badge he held in his hand. It was a star inscribed with DEPUTY UNITED STATES MARSHAL. Collins slid the leather-encased shield into his waistband, allowing the badge to dangle there.
"What in the hell do we do if we just happen to bump into real marshals?" the major asked.
"We go to jail for impersonating a federal officer and pray that Niles can get our asses out," the naval officer answered, grinning.
"Great. Well, who's coming?" Collins asked.
Mendenhall introduced the other two men as marine PFCs, O'Connell and Gianelli. PFC O'Connell had a decidedly Southern drawl, and there was no doubt at all Gianelli hailed from New York.
"Gunny here wants permission to come along with us. He doesn't really expect to be used in any real capacity, maybe watch the car. Mrs. Hamilton said it was totally up to you," Mendenhall said in a lowered voice. "Spec 5 Meyers up front will mind the store, if you concur, sir."
Collins looked the old man over. He wasn't real comfortable with the idea, but the man was still a marine, thus had earned respect long ago. "Getting some air with us today, Gunny Campos?"
"About goddamn time too. I'm damn tired of babysitting these boys and bickering with the tourists. I can still run rings around most of these men, and the day I let someone from the army beat me, I'll just..." He saw the major looking at him. "I... uh... yes, sir, very ready to get out of here. I know the town and I know exactly where you need to go. Present company excluded on the army comment, Major."
"Quit while you're ahead, Gunny. You're welcome to come along, but don't get used to it. You know the area here, so let's roll."
"Yes, sir."
Staff Sergeant Mendenhall drove while Everett rode shotgun with O'Connell in the middle. The other three, including Collins, rode in the back. In less than five minutes they were in the area of the old Strip that housed all the famous and older casinos.
"Gunny, see if they have a back door to this place and stake it out," Collins said as he left the car. "You stay with him, Gianelli."
"Yes, sir."
Collins watched them head toward t
he back of the building. Then he, Everett, Mendenhall, and O'Connell walked around to the front of the club. Once there they didn't hesitate. A bored-looking woman sitting behind an old desk didn't even glance up from her People magazine as they passed, merely blew a bubble with her gum and let it snap before sucking it back in and starting over. They went up a long flight of stairs toward the smell and noise of the Ivory Coast Lounge.
The room was dark and much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside. Music was playing, but no one was onstage. A waitress with rather large and sagging breasts was leaning down and speaking with a man in a black suit who sat in a palm-covered booth. He looked up at the newcomers and slid out of the booth, ducking his head under the fake elephant tusks and palm fronds. He whispered something to the topless woman and then walked away, disappearing into the back of the club. The waitress watched him leave, then placed her tray down on the table and hurried away through a curtained doorway to the left. She glanced back at Collins and Everett as she pulled the drapes closed.
Through the strains of the Moody Blues singing "Nights in White Satin," a man with a swooping seventies Elvis haircut stepped through the same curtained doorway after a few minutes and up to the four men, eyeing them closely.
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" he asked loudly over the music, smiling with stained teeth exposed and moving his shoulders as if he were warming up for something.
Everett sized up the tall, unbearably thin man and decided he wasn't much of a threat.
"Looking for someone," Collins said, leaning forward a little, noticing the slight bulge the man had under his own jacket. He was definitely armed.
"Have a name, cop?" the man asked, pegging them immediately as some sort of law enforcement.
Collins said nothing; he just looked at the club's proprietor. After a moment he produced a small wallet-sized photo that Mendenhall had given him earlier in the car. It was Reese, the picture having been taken last year for his Event Group ID.
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