The Fusion Cage (Warner & Lopez Book 2)

by Dean Crawford

  It took several rings before there was an answer.

  ‘Doug Jarvis?’

  ‘It’s me,’ Ethan replied simply.

  Jarvis’s tone immediately became somewhat more clandestine.

  ‘Well you’ve done it again, Ethan. Apparently, the Saudis lost a helicopter yesterday morning in some kind of accident, possibly the action of militant groups in the desert west of Damman.’

  ‘We heard a bang,’ Ethan replied, conscious of not revealing any details even over such a secure line. ‘I suspect it was a completely defensive action against a hostile force.’

  ‘Anybody fleeing an event like that will be under extreme surveillance should they be observed,’ Jarvis said. ‘Any cover they may have obtained will be temporary at best. I’d say their best bet is to completely disappear as fast as possible until the dust settles.’

  ‘I’d agree,’ Ethan said. ‘They have acquired assets, most likely, those most prized by the enemy. Those assets need to be protected as a high priority.’

  There was a long silence as Jarvis digested this new information and formulated his response.

  ‘The assets should be bought back to home turf,’ he said. ‘They’ll be safer there and it may be possible to arrange some kind of protection.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Ethan said. ‘Their journey will probably be complex and will involve more than one stop. It may not be possible to achieve under normal circumstances, so they may even need assistance of some kind.’

  Despite the digital distortion down the line Ethan could detect the tension in Jarvis’s voice.

  ‘Things are not easy here. There are forces at work behind the scenes, attempting to sabotage our efforts. It’s not certain how long I can maintain support, especially in light of recent events. I’ve been called to a major meeting with the brass, and I can only assume they’re going to start yelling at me.’

  ‘Support need only be in terms of concealment,’ Ethan replied. ‘Or even deception. Do what you can, and we’ll be back as soon as possible. Can you get us out of Abu Dhabi?’

  ‘Agent Willis will enact the protocol, but you won’t have much time. He’ll assign you a passage out of Abu Dhabi leaving tonight. It’s the best I could do at such short notice.’

  ‘Perfect,’ Ethan said as a plan formed in his mind. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.’

  The line went dead as Jarvis cut off the connection and Ethan leaned back in his seat, the old wood creaking beneath him as he considered what Jarvis said. The Defense Intelligence Agency was a very powerful organisation within the US government, but just as Ethan and Lopez had found on previous investigations for the DIA, even official ones, there were higher powers quite capable of infiltrating and disrupting operations even within the DIA. With Majestic Twelve likely representing the highest power of any organisation in the world, and with them being more than aware of Lopez in Ethan’s presence in the Middle East, he could only assume that they might be able to eavesdrop on any conversation, no matter how secure.

  If they were pressuring Jarvis and the DIA, then they could no longer be considered secure.

  Ethan got out of his seat and hurried forward to the cabins once more, and found Stanley attempting to lay a threadbare blanket over a particularly ugly stain on his mattress.

  ‘Stanley, is there anybody that can help us right now? Somebody you know in your industry perhaps, who you might be willing to reach out to?’

  Meyer looked at Ethan for a long moment and perhaps for the first time he began to realise the depth of the trouble he was in. The old man had clearly been shaken by their encounter with the Apache gunships, and perhaps not as able as he thought he was to evade the authorities in order to bring his remarkable device to the masses.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said after a moment’s thought. ‘There is a place in France, we might be able to find somebody there willing to help us.’

  ‘France?’ Ethan asked, somewhat surprised. ‘What are they doing in France that could possibly help us?’

  ‘Something quite similar to me, actually,’ Stanley replied. ‘They are trying to produce free energy for the world. But their method is somewhat different to mine, it’s a bit bigger.’

  ‘How much bigger?’ Ethan asked.

  Stanley shrugged.

  ‘They’re trying to build a sun here on earth, and capture its energy.’

  ***

  XXIII

  Pentagon, Washington DC

  Doug Jarvis strode into a briefing room in the Pentagon four minutes late for a meeting, the importance of which had been flagged in his message from General Nellis as “Stellar”. When he got into the room, he realised why.

  Before him sat the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the United States miltary’s highest ranking officers and the men responsible for the overall command of the Army, Navy, Air Force and intelligence community. Jarvis hesitated before the array of top brass before him, then closed the door behind him.

  A single spare chair awaited him, which meant that he was the only individual invited to the meeting. Heading the table was DIA Director General Nellis, flanked by the Director of the National Security Agency, Morris Tyler, and FBI Director Gordon LeMay, a gaunt looking man with a hooked nose and cold eyes who reminded Jarvis somewhat of a bird of prey. The chiefs of staff sat alongside each other on each side of the table and at the far end was the forlorn empty chair, which Jarvis sat down in. It felt just a little bit like being positioned in front of a firing squad. Nellis’s voice rumbled like an avalanche of boulders toward him.

  ‘We have a problem,’ he said. ‘Have you been apprised of events in Saudi Arabia?’

  Jarvis felt an itch developing at the back of his neck and fought the urge to scratch it as an image of Ethan Warner flickered unbidden before his eyes. ‘No sir, I have not.’

  ‘We have, from high level sources,’ Gordon LeMay snapped. ‘A Saudi attack gunship was lost this morning in an action against militant groups in the desert east of Riyadh.’

  ‘A tragedy,’ Jarvis said.

  ‘The tragedy is that two DIA agents were identified among the militants,’ Morris Tyler cut in, restraint written in pained lines across his features. ‘Americans.’

  ‘Do we know these Americans?’ Jarvis asked.

  ‘You know damned well who we’re talking about,’ LeMay snapped. ‘Your two hound dogs are on the rampage again!’

  LeMay tossed a grainy black and white image to Jarvis. Shot from what looked like the sensors of an attack chopper, maybe an Apache, it showed Ethan Warner and Nicola Lopez running across open desert in the company of armed militants, some of them carrying grenade launchers and assault rifles.

  ‘Ethan Warner,’ Morris Tyler said as though spitting something unpleasant from his mouth. ‘This guy is responsible for more international incidents than I care to recall. The Israelis still want to talk to him about something he dug up in their desert a few years back. We have it on record that he blew up an entire apartment building in New Mexico and caused a major blast off the Florida coast some years ago.’

  ‘That’s not to mention the death of an entire paramilitary squad in Idaho,’ LeMay added, ‘the unsolved murder of a homicide captain in New York City who has since had his record marred by corruption charges, and a major international incident in Argentina earlier this year! This guy is a disaster for our departments and yet you’re sponsoring him to do more work for us! Why the hell would you do this?!’

  ‘In order to protect the same interests you have just described,’ Jarvis replied. ‘Without the intelligence provided, the cases upon which we were working could not have been solved. It was a necessary step for which I take full responsibility.’

  Nellis’s features creased into a tight smile. Jarvis could tell that Nellis was under pressure to show a united front with the Joint Chiefs of Staff, no matter what the general was agreeing to with Jarvis behind closed doors.

  ‘A necessary step,’ Nellis echoed, ‘which you had no authority to make, then o
r now.’

  ‘This isn’t about authority,’ Jarvis snapped, provoking a look of surprise on the general’s craggy features. ‘This is about getting the job done with the resources we have available at the time.’

  Gordon LeMay glanced down the table at him.

  ‘This agency can call upon all manner of elite forces, trained specialists. It doesn’t require the services of Ethan Warner.’

  ‘Yes it does,’ Jarvis growled back. ‘I’d rather employ Ethan than have your paramilitary units betray them again, as they did in Idaho. Or have you already forgotten about that, Gordon?’

  LeMay’s eyes flew wide in surprise. Jarvis didn’t wait for the director’s response.

  ‘What’s the problem here?’ Jarvis asked the Joint Chiefs. ‘I take it that this is about my department’s hiring of Warner & Lopez Inc. to carry out investigations on the DIA’s behalf?’

  ‘The Department of Defense believes that it is a tactical folly to employ civilians in what should be an internally sourced investigative outfit,’ Morris Tyler said.

  ‘Then the department should look more carefully at its own charter,’ Jarvis snapped back. ‘All of the intelligence agencies out–source work, even clandestine operations. Every single one of Warner & Lopez’s investigations at the DIA was previously rejected or denied resources by other agencies, including the CIA and FBI, before we picked them up.’

  ‘Why put these things into the hands of civilians at all?’ Tyler asked.

  ‘Budgets,’ Jarvis replied, ‘resources, equipment, time. Warner and Lopez, they’re just as reliable as any government agent.’ Jarvis shot another dirty look at LeMay. ‘Sometimes even more so.’

  Admiral John Griffiths, chief of the Navy, leaned forward on the table.

  ‘We were briefed this morning on the scope of your operations. I know that everybody in this room is aware of the full details of each of these investigations, so I’ll make this simple. Since starting this department of yours, Ethan Warner and Nicola Lopez have overseen investigations into alien remains found in a seven–thousand year old tomb in Israel; into immortalised veterans of the Civil War living in seclusion in New Mexico and the arrest and death of the philanthropist Joaquin Abell who had used his fortune to build a device capable of seeing into the future. Then there was the CIA fiasco in Idaho surrounding the animals they had “modified” there, the hauntings in New York city and the search for alien artifacts in Peru’s Andes mountains. You put all of this into the hands of a washed–out former Marine and a DC detective turned bounty–hunter?’

  Jarvis maintained a stern expression.

  ‘Yes sir, that’s right. Ethan and Nicola have served their country with a courage and self–sacrifice that puts many of our supposedly elite operatives to shame. They’re unpredictable and often vulnerable, but they’ve pulled through every single time and should be decorated, not denigrated. Who arranged this meeting, if I may ask?’

  LeMay’s tone darkened further.

  ‘No, Mister Jarvis, you may not. This is about your people.’

  Jarvis’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘That’s utter crap and every man around this table knows it. I had a similar conversation with the JCOS years ago, when they tried to shut my unit down. Who called the meeting?

  Tyler Morris raised a hand, silencing LeMay’s response.

  ‘Gentlemen, let’s stay the course here shall we?’

  General Hank Butcher, Chief of the Army, shook his head.

  ‘What’s your problem here?’ he asked Jarvis. ‘What are you insinuating?’

  ‘This is not about Ethan and Nicola,’ Jarvis replied. ‘This is about control. There is somebody behind the scenes pulling strings here because they don’t like what we’re digging in to.’

  ‘That’s rubbish,’ Gordon LeMay snapped. ‘You’ve been watching too many episodes of 24.’

  A chuckle went around the room.

  ‘It’s probably served me well,’ Jarvis said. ‘Who called this meeting? Was it any one of us in this room?’

  LeMay squirmed. Jarvis could see him grinding his teeth in his jaw.

  ‘It doesn’t matter a damn.’ LeMay replied. ‘Right now the Saudis are screaming down our diplomatic channels for the blood of the two Americans in that image, and you’re hiding them from view. Do you have any idea of the political damage that this could cause if it went public? American agents killing Saudi servicemen during the course of their duty?’

  ‘It would be devastating,’ Jarvis agreed. ‘Which begs the question: why did they do it? I notice that they’re running away from the camera in that image, as are the militants, so they were likely under attack from the two gunships. Why? Who ordered an attack on two American agents? Who knew they were there?’

  ‘The Saudi’s claim that they were rooting out militants during normal operations after an attack on a private contractor’s convoy,’ Nellis replied. ‘They only saw the Americans when they recovered the data from the crashed helicopters.’

  ‘Of course they would,’ Jarvis grinned without warmth. ‘But it makes no difference. Warner and Lopez will return fire if attacked, it’s what they’re trained to do. If the Saudi gunships were outclassed by a gumshoe and a retired cop, as you call them, that’s their business.’

  LeMay intervened, his voice quiet but forceful enough to cut through the tension.

  ‘Doug, for now I think it’s best if we draw this operation to a close until something can be worked out.’

  Jarvis looked at Nellis and slowly shook his head.

  ‘Again, on whose orders?’ Jarvis shot back. ‘Who’s calling the shots here? The FBI? What jurisdiction would they have in Saudi Arabia?’

  ‘Every man at this table is in basic agreement except you,’ LeMay snapped.

  ‘I don’t suppose this has gone up as far as the White House?’ Jarvis said, ignoring LeMay.

  ‘It’s not something we need to off–load onto the administration,’ Tyler pointed out.

  ‘Perish the thought,’ Jarvis said. ‘I wonder what would happen if I called a meeting there and told the President everything?’

  ‘I don’t think you’d get anywhere near the White House,’ LeMay smiled. ‘They’d turn you away as nothing more than a madman.’

  ‘Unless I knew the president personally,’ Jarvis murmured casually in reply. ‘Or if Ethan Warner had once saved his life, when he was still a senator. You must recall the file of Isaiah Black, general?’

  Nellis raised an eyebrow.

  ‘We’d shut you down long before you got there,’ LeMay uttered.

  Jarvis stood up from his seat and looked at the men before him. ‘You represent the most powerful nation on earth, but clearly none of you really understand why you’re even here. What makes you think that I have any respect for your authority when you’re being strong–armed and can’t even admit it?’

  The men around the table stared back at Jarvis in silence.

  ‘Jarvis. Where are Warner and Lopez right now?’ Nellis asked.

  ‘Busy,’ Jarvis said as he strode for the door.

  ‘Busy where?’ LeMay snapped.

  Nellis looked at Jarvis. ‘Doug, their whereabouts is not a big deal.’

  ‘Pull them out, immediately,’ Tyler added.

  ‘They’re dark, out of reach,’ Jarvis lied as he opened the door. ‘I’ll pull them out when they make contact, or are we intending to put their lives at risk by going in there and searching for them in plain view of potential enemies of the state?’

  Jarvis saw a tremor of unease flicker like a shadow behind Nellis’s eyes.

  ‘Where were they last headed?’ LeMay demanded. ‘Give us that much at least, and we’ll ensure that they come to no harm and that there are no.., charges threatened, if you know what I mean?’

  Jarvis sighed. He knew that he had to be seen to throw the joint chiefs a bone or he could possibly be arrested himself for treason, the threat thinly veiled. If any one of the brass in the room were on the payroll of Majestic Twel
ve, as he suspected, it could be even worse than that. A light of inspiration flickered into life in his mind as he opened the door to exit the room.

  ‘They’re headed for Abu Dhabi aboard a ship named Huron. That’s all I’ll say.’

  Jarvis closed the door behind him and immediately reached for his cell phone as he hurried away.

  ***

  XXIV

  Port Zayed, Abu Dhabi

  ‘Move, now!’

  The convoy of four sleek white sedans supplied by the House of Saud cruised through the city streets even as the sun was glowing across the desert horizon, glinting off the tallest buildings of Abu Dhabi’s immense glassy skyline. The city looked like a gigantic steel crown encrusted with diamonds and embedded against the vast deserts.

  Aaron Mitchell’s last command has just been received by the agents in the other vehicles, all of whom were now accelerating toward a ship moored in the port. Aaron could see the vessel’s form against the peculiarly vivid desert dawn, a container vessel streaked with the filth of countless voyages across the open oceans. She was stacked with cargo brought from Europe that was being unloaded by large cranes onto the dock, and was due to depart that morning for India.

  The cars swept into the docks, their security access cleared in advance from the highest levels of government. Aaron watched through the tinted windows as the form of the vessel hove into view, a hive of activity before its massive hull as dock workers hurried to complete their unloading and turn the ship around for departure.

  Mitchell’s sedan swung around and came to a halt behind the leading three vehicles, from which spilled armed agents who quickly contained the dock workers in confused rings, dark eyes wide with alarm as the agents corralled them near the loading cranes. Aaron waited until the area was secure and all of the captive workers had been forced to turn their backs before he opened the door of the sedan and stepped out.