Authors: Jon Land

Day of the Delphi (15 page)

BOOK: Day of the Delphi

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“Riddick’s lying,” Kristen said from the driver’s seat after the colonel had escorted them back to their car. “There was nobody here yesterday, Sam.”

“Meaning …”

“They put all this back together when they found out you were coming.”

“They?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know!”

The senator touched Kristen’s arm tenderly. “Yesterday could have been one of those down periods Riddick mentioned.”

“Riddick also mentioned a skeletal force and full-time security. They weren’t around when I was here.”

“Because you didn’t see them.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t go near any of the hangars, did you?”

“No.”

“And besides what’s inside them, this base looks totally ordinary. Right?”

“Yes.”

The senator took a deep breath. “Then maybe security was here, Kris.”

Kristen looked at her quizzically across the bench seat.

“You said you and that sheriff were accosted.”

“We were shot at, almost killed.”

“After you broke into the base.”

“Well …”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Is it possible, then, is it at all possible, Kris, that the men who shot at you were guards?”

Instead of vehemently denouncing this assertion as she intended, Kristen paused to think. The senator was proposing something she hadn’t stopped to consider herself.

“They fired on us without warning, Sam.”

“You said the wind had started to whip up. Maybe you didn’t hear them. Maybe those first shots were warning shots. Listen, Kris, I just want to be sure.”

“They weren’t wearing uniforms and they weren’t patrolling the base when we checked it.”

“I’m not saying you’re at all to blame for what happened. I’m just trying to determine the degree of fault. There was a security breach, a major big-time fuck-up. And maybe, just maybe, you ended up right in the middle of it. Now somebody’s trying to cover their ass. Could be Riddick. Could be those lots bigger than Riddick.”

Kristen swallowed hard. Her throat felt heavy. She felt herself starting to give in until she remembered David’s fate. “No, Sam, it’s more than that. It’s more than that, and my brother saw it. He
filmed
it.”

“If only we had the tape …”

“They must have taken it when they killed him. And
when Duncan Farlowe and I came snooping around yesterday, they tried to kill us too.”

“Kris—”

“No, Senator, let me finish. Something’s wrong here. Riddick was convincing, I’ll grant you that, but there’s too much he can’t account for. There’s a base operating that nobody, including the committee that approved the money for its reactivation, knows about. They may have the procedures and priorities down pat, but something went wrong. Jesus, can you imagine some of those warheads falling into the wrong hands?”

“You think that’s what happened?”

Kristen’s face twisted in anguish. “I don’t know, but my brother did. And that’s why he’s dead.”

Riddick placed the call from the private, secure line as soon as he returned to his office. He let it ring twice, replaced the receiver, and waited. Less than one minute later his phone rang.

“Delphi,” a voice announced simply.

And Riddick gave his report.

The man on the other end of the line hung up when Colonel Riddick finished speaking. He then unlocked the bottom right-hand drawer of his desk and slid it open to reveal a built-in phone. The man lifted the receiver and pressed out a long series of numbers. A beep sounded and he pressed out more. Then two beeps, followed by one last series.

The seconds passed, stretched out to nearly a minute before a click sounded.

“System activated,”
droned a computer-synthesized voice.

“Delphi,” the man said.

“
Designation?”

“One-four-zero-two-niner. Mother’s baby boy.”

A brief pause.

“Voice recognition successful. Access allowed. Please
wait for the beeps to begin message. Press the pound key to terminate message and send.”

The man waited. The beeps sounded, three of them. He spoke again.

“Voice meeting tonight, ten P.M. Washington time. Necessary all members in attendance. Subject matter top priority.”

The man hit the pound key.

“Message sent
,” said the mechanical voice.

“You’re not listening to me, Sam!” Kristen repeated ten minutes into the drive.

“Pull over,” the senator instructed. “Over there in that gravel lot.”

Kristen pulled over and turned off the engine.

“It’s you who’s not listening, Kris. But you’ve got to start now. I’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on at Miravo, but you’ve got to give me time.”

“No one gave my brother time, Sam.”

“That’s not fair!”

“No, it’s not. It’s not fair that he’s dead because he saw something he wasn’t supposed to on that base.”

“We don’t know what he saw, and we’re not sure that what happened to him had anything to do with Miravo.”

“He was there!”

“I’ll grant you that. Only we don’t know if he was there immediately before he was killed. It could have been something else altogether. Probably was.”

“No!”

“Kris, be reasonable. Please.” Samantha Jordan sighed impatiently. “I dropped everything else and came out here with you. I riled the whole Pentagon and compromised my position in the Senate. I went out on a limb and I’m willing to stay on it until we know the truth. But you’ve got to back off and let me work.” Jordan stopped and lowered her voice. “Listen, Kris, I know how you feel.”

“No, you don’t!” Her mouth quivered. “David was all I had, Sam, all I had left.”

The senator reached over and stroked Kristen’s hair affectionately. “You have me,” she said softly.

Kristen stiffened and grabbed the older woman’s hand, forcing it from her head. “I was talking about my brother, my family.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Kris. What I’ve done for you—you don’t understand what I’ve done for you.”

Something in Jordan’s tone disturbed Kristen, and she pulled away toward the window.

“Tell me you can put it to rest, Kris. Tell me you can let it go.”

“You know I can’t do that, Sam. You know I can’t.”

The senator’s pleading eyes filled with sadness and resignation. “I wish you had come to me first. Before Gathers, before coming out here. There would have been hope, then. There would have been a chance.”

“What are you talking about, Sam?”

“I told them to let me do it my way. I told them you were too important to me.”

“Told
who
? Sam, what’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry, Kris. God, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, Sam?” Kristen snapped.

“For this,” Jordan said with quivering lips.

Kristen looked down and saw a small blue-steel semiautomatic pistol in her hand.

The pistol trembled slightly.

“It didn’t have to be this way, Kris.”

“Sam, what are you doing?
Sam!”

“But you’re just not willing to be convinced. I was hoping after today that—that—”

Kristen felt her shock recede in favor of an all-encompassing rage. “You’re a part of this! You’re a part of what
killed
my brother!”

“You’re a part too, Kris, because you
believe
. I know you
do. Give me a chance to explain. I can still bring you on board. I can convince them to let me.”

“Convince
who?”

The pistol was steady in Samantha Jordan’s hand now. “Listen to me, Kris. I’m sorry about your brother. I’m truly sorry. It was just a terrible coincidence, a tragedy, that he was there, that he saw.”

“What did he see, Sam? Tell me what he saw!”

“Join us and I’ll tell you. I’ll make it right, I promise. We can be together. We can always be together.”

Kristen squared her shoulders toward Jordan. “You killed my brother.”

“I would have stopped it. If I had known, I would have stopped it. For you, Kris. I’d do anything for you. But don’t make me do this!” Samantha Jordan begged. “Don’t make me kill you! I
love
you.
Please
, just listen. Hear me out.”

Kristen looked her square in the eyes. “Shoot me, Sam, or I’m getting out of this car and walking away.”

Senator Samantha Jordan held the gun out further, steadied in both hands now.

“Kris … Oh, Kris …”

In that moment of Jordan’s lament and indecision, Kristen lunged. She went for the gun and managed to shove it up over both their heads.

The boom of a gunshot stunned them both as it echoed through the car’s interior. Kristen threw herself on the older woman and fought to keep the barrel away from her. Gritty resolve filled Samantha Jordan’s features. Gone was the saddened gaze present just seconds before. Eyes that had tried to show love now showed only intense anger.

Kristen gripped the senator’s trigger hand to keep her from moving the barrel downward. She worked her other hand under Jordan’s chin and shoved with all her strength to slam the senator’s skull against the passenger side window. The glass spiderwebbed and Jordan gasped, eyes clouding slightly.

Kristen tried to tear the gun free in that moment, but
screaming, Samantha Jordan raked her face with her nails. Kristen yelped with pain and felt her hold on the senator’s gun hand loosen. Jordan yanked the pistol downward and Kristen lunged atop her, struggling anew to twist the barrel from her.

The gun went off. Kristen shrieked at the sound and the hard kick to her stomach that meant the bullet must have ripped home.

“Sam,” she moaned. “Sam …”

Her eyes gazed down into Jordan’s. They were still and bulging. Kristen pushed herself up and saw the crimson stain spreading across the senator’s blouse from the bullet that had found her instead.

Kristen couldn’t make her mind work. Everything was fuzzy and dull. The gun was forgotten. The inside of the car smelled like spent firecrackers.

And her own blouse was wet with Samantha Jordan’s blood.

Trembling, Kristen managed to move back behind the wheel. Still in a fog, she drove off, kicking dirt and rocks behind her. The senator’s head thumped against the window as Kristen pulled back onto the road.

“You’re a part too, Kris, because you believe. I know you do … .”

Believe in
what?

“Give me a chance to explain. I can still bring you on board. I can convince them to let me.”

Samantha Jordan clearly was just an underling, part of something vast and horrifying that was somehow connected to what David had witnessed at Miravo Air Force Base.

Night was falling. Kristen flipped on her headlights and drove on. She would drive to Grand Mesa, to Sheriff Duncan Farlowe. Farlowe would help her. There was no one else.

Kristen was glad it was getting dark because she hated looking at Samantha Jordan’s corpse in the passenger seat. She regretted there was no way to avoid hearing it bounce
against the door with every bump in the road, or to block out the smell of blood. Still, she had no intention of stopping until she reached Grand Mesa.

A roadblock appeared suddenly just over the crest of a hill on Old Canyon Road. Kristen hadn’t realized how fast she’d been going and barely managed to get the sedan stopped in time before the inevitable collision, skidding onto the shoulder. Cold fear struck her with the reality of what was occurring and she threw the sedan into reverse in hopes of finding the road again to turn around.

Two more sets of headlights veered in from that direction as well. A bullet shattered the top of the windshield, forcing Kristen to duck. She heard two more volleys blow out the sedan’s front tires. She rose to see armed men approaching through the glare of the headlights aimed her way, led by a monster of a man whose face was terrifyingly ugly and who looked—

His hair! Oh my God, his hair!
…

A picture of David’s mutilated corpse flashed through Kristen’s mind. Duncan Farlowe had said her brother had been scalped.

And this man monster was wearing his hair … .

BOOK: Day of the Delphi

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