Finding North (23 page)

“
It’s about time,” Cian
grumbled when John got back to the kitchen.

John smiled and joined the
party.

F

Chapter
Seventeen

Tuesday night

May 17 — 10:15 p.m. EDT
(8:15 p.m. MDT)

Plattsburg International
Airport, New York

“
Sir,” Margaret gave Alex
a tablet computer. “The Intelligence Center wishes to speak with
you.”

“
Thank you,” Alex said.
She took the tablet, and Margaret ran to where she, Royce, and
Sergeant Dusty were working.

Alex’s eyes followed
Margaret to check on the team. After all of the days and nights of
training, they were thrilled to actually get to work. Colin and MJ
were checking their supplies for potential medical scenarios near
their transportation truck. Trece was leading warm-up and limber
exercises with groups of four team members. Right now, he was
working with Joseph, Matthew, Raz, and Troy. Margaret was running
interference with the intelligence community. Royce managed the
equipment allocation at a small table next to Sergeant Dusty, who
was working through logistics. Vince and Leena were organizing
their weaponry and the necessary materials for the action. White
Boy was checking to make sure everyone was wearing body armor and
had the weaponry they needed. And Raz
was . . .

Her eyes scanned the field
for him. She found him walking toward her with the heat, echo, and
infrared readings of the entire property on his laptop. Not
realizing she’d seen him, his unguarded face was lined with sadness
and worry. He looked up to see Alex watching him. She smiled. He
opened his mouth to say something, but Trece called his name. He
gave her the computer, and he ran across the field to get warmed
up.

“
You will be connected to
the Intelligence Center in . . .” Alex looked down
at the tablet computer in her hands. “Three, two, one.”

“
Lieutenant Colonel,” said
Berry, Orangie, Peaches, Cherry . . . or whatever
the assistant’s fake name might be. They recruited women of
indeterminate race with large eyes, poofy lips, and heart-shaped
faces. The women were surgically altered to become near-exact
replicas of each other. When the assistants had finished their
surgery and training, they were given fruit names.

Alex thought the plastic
surgery and fruit names made the women seem like porn stars, but as
one of the only high-ranking women in intelligence, no one cared
what she thought about these women. The Intelligence Center wanted
their assistants to be visually pleasing for their stressed-out
field agents. Alex always wondered if that was because they stocked
only triple-D bras to go under the plunging necklines of the
assistants’ uniforms. She had to look away from the young woman to
keep from laughing at her own joke.

“
Lieutenant Colonel?” the
woman asked.

“
Ma’am,” Alex said.
“Sorry. There’s a lot going on here.”

“
Yes, sir,” the woman
said. “I will be your connection to the Intelligence
Center.”

“
I’m sorry,” Alex smiled.
“I’ve lost track of your name.”

“
They are ridiculous,
aren’t they?” the woman smiled.

Alex gave a slight
smile.

“
The Lieutenant Colonel
may call me PJ,” the woman said. “For Plum Jam or
Plummie.”

Alex smiled to keep from
laughing.

“
I know,” the woman shook
her head. “May I call you ‘Fey’?”

“
Of course,” Alex
said.

“
What might I assist you
with?” PJ asked.

“
Has the Center completed
the analysis of the satellite readings?” Alex asked.

“
The ones Agent Rasmussen
submitted?” PJ asked.

“
Yes,” Alex
said.

The woman tapped on her
computer’s keyboard for a moment before nodding.

“
There’s a little bit of a
holdup,” PJ said. “They’re working to create a timeline to ensure
the accuracy of the . . .”

PJ stopped talking. Alex
watched her eyes flick across her computer screen.

“
Seems to be some concern
about accuracy, sir,” PJ said.

“
Accuracy? Of the
satellite?” Alex asked.

“
Seems that the
Intelligence Center gave you false information regarding a missile
silo in North Dakota a few years ago.” PJ’s eyes flicked back and
forth as she read. “The commander is personally checking every
detail.”

PJ’s head
nodded.

“
Who?” Alex
asked.

“
I’m not at liberty to
say,” PJ said.

“
Someone smart?” Alex
asked. “Or someone with control issues?”

“
I’d say so,” PJ
said.

Alex scowled, and PJ
lifted a delicate shoulder in a shrug.

“
Hopefully, they’ll get it
to us before we leave in . . .” Alex looked at her
watch. “ . . .six and a half minutes.”

A helicopter buzzed their
staging area.

“
That’s our pilot,” Alex
said. “You have our com channel?”

“
Yes, sir,” PJ
said.

“
Out,” Alex
said.

“
Sir?” PJ asked.
“Fey?”

“
Yes?”

“
I have taken the liberty
to collect the details of the reconstruction of Atlas F Site 11,
Plattsburg Field.”

“
Reconstruction?” Alex
asked.

“
Yes, sir,” PJ said. “I
took the liberty of pulling the construction plans when I learned
of my assignment to you and this mission.”

“
Agent Rasmussen hasn’t
found any . . .” Alex started.

“
He wouldn’t, sir,” PJ
said. “These sites were decommissioned in 1965.”

“
By December 1,” Alex
said. “Sold out by the end of the year.”

“
That’s correct, sir,” PJ
said. “As a security precaution, owners were required to file any
plans for changing the property. Plans were evaluated for national
security.”

“
Keep people from
rebuilding their own private missile silos,” Alex said.

“
Correct,” PJ said. “Plans
are stored on microfiche and are available only on
location.”

“
Wow,” Alex
said.

“‘
Wow,’ sir?”

“
Uh . . .”
Alex hadn’t realized she’d said that out loud. She’d been so
surprised that this Plummie was actually helpful that the word had
just popped out of her mouth.

“
Yes, sir,” PJ said. “I
understand.”

“
No offense meant,” Alex
said.

“
None taken,” PJ said.
“I’m glad I get the opportunity to assist the Fey. You’re a hero to
all younger female agents.”

“
Can
you . . .?” Alex asked.

“
I’ve taken the liberty of
sending a scan of the microfiche files to Agent Rasmussen’s account
as well as to your account, sir,” PJ said.

“
Can you give me an
overview so I know what I’m looking at?” Alex said.

“
First,” PJ said, “I can
see that you haven’t checked your account to make sure you’ve
received them.”

“
I don’t know how to work
these things,” Alex said. “My Sergeant can get them for
me.”

“
Sergeant Dusty?” PJ
asked.

“
That’s correct,” Alex
said.

“
If I
may . . .” PJ started. “I’ve texted your Sergeant to
assist you, and I’d be happy to walk you through it.”

“
Okay,” Alex
said.

Sergeant Dusty whistled,
and she looked up. He gave her a “What?” gesture, and she shook her
head. PJ instructed her in how to get into her account via this
tablet computer.

“
What am I looking at?”
Alex asked when she’d pulled up the Site 11 silo-reconstruction
plans.

“
There’s a note on the
plan which states that the owner was building a kind of museum for
artifacts,” PJ said. “Do you see how to increase
the . . .”

“
Got it,” Alex
said.

She zoomed in on the
handwriting and bit her lip. She recognized the signature as that
of Cooper’s father.

“
Sir, the note was made
by . . .” PJ looked away. “Major Albert C. Cooper,
US Air Force, sir. I took the liberty of looking into him, sir. He
was in New York City from 1965 through most of 1966, updating some
coursework in navigation and healing from a leg injury.”

“
How did he get mixed up
in this?” Alex asked.

“
He spent a good bit of
time in New York City during the 1950s,” PJ said.
“Uh . . . Off and on from 1955 through 1958. He was
working as a test pilot at that time. He appears to have followed a
particular plane around the country.”

“
Is he connected in any
way to the Zenos?” Alex asked.

“
Oh, I’m sorry — didn’t I
say that?” PJ asked.

“
No,” Alex
said.

“
He was close with
Detective Zeno’s father, Nikoloas Zeno, sir,” PJ said. “When these
inspections needed to happen, Major Cooper took care of the details
for Nikoloas Zeno. While he was at it, he did all the inspections
in the region.”

Alex peered at the
construction plans.

“
A museum? Huh,” Alex
said. “I wonder what we’ll find.”

Trece yelled for
Alex.

“
I need to warm
up.”

“
Yes, sir,” PJ said. “And,
sir?”

“
Yes, PJ?” Alex
asked.

“
These plans were checked
out about three months ago,” PJ said. “Coinciding with the initial
attempts on Detective Zeno’s life.”

“
By who?” Alex
asked.

“
Alex!” Raz ran over to
her. “You’re up.”

“
The record is unclear,
sir,” PJ said.

“
Thank you,” Alex said.
“I’ll leave you with Agent Rasmussen.”

“
Oh . . .”
PJ’s hands went to adjust her hair and her artificially engorged
breasts. “Sir, the file has no record of whether Agent Rasmussen is
involved with someone or married.”

“
And?” Alex
asked.

“
I’ve been asked to
ascertain this information,” PJ said. Her tone was overly official,
but her cheeks flushed.

“
I’ll ask him,” Alex said.
“In the meantime, please go over these details with him. Make sure
to tell him what you found out about who checked out the plans.
Also, can you pressure them to get us their analysis of the
location before we actually complete this mission?”

PJ was putting on a fresh
coat of shiny lip gloss. She nodded that she understood. She added
almost as an afterthought, “Thank you, sir. I’ll keep the com open
if you need anything.”

Alex smirked at Raz, and
he scowled.

“
What?” Raz
mouthed.

“
This is PJ.” Alex held
out the tablet to him. “You may call her Plummie.”

Raz winced at the name and
took the tablet. Trece called her name again, and she ran over to
him.

“
Always late,” Trece said.
“For that, I want a hundred pushups.”

“
But . . .”
Alex started to say that she wasn’t authorized to do pushups
because of her healing chest wound.

“
I don’t want to hear it,
Hargreaves,” Trece said. “Rank has no privileges here. You don’t go
in warm, you get dead. And
I’m
going to have to tell the cutie-pie husband — and
your adorable little brown babies — that you died. Can you just see
that little Joey’s face when I tell him his mama was too lazy to
warm up so she died? Or Máire?” Trece gave an exaggerated sniff.
“Brings a tear to my eye just thinking about it.”

“
Where’s the Jakker? The
Kid?” Trece yelled. “You belong to me.”

US Air Force Captain Zack
“The Jakker” Jakkman dropped next to Alex and began doing
pushups.

“
Yes, sir,” US Air Force
Sergeant Clifford “The Kid” Mauer said. He dropped down next to
Alex.

“
Hargreaves!” Trece said.
“Even these Air Force scum are warming up. What’s your big-baby
Green Beret excuse? Now get your fat ass to work before I kill you
myself.”

Grinning, Alex got to
work.

FFF
Tuesday night

May 17 — 10:58 p.m.
EDT

Outside of Ellenburg, New
York

After reviewing all
possible scenarios, Alex decided their best approach was to use the
cover she already had as Raz’s wife. They flew as a team to the
medium-level security prison in Altona, New York. This put them
eleven miles — or around fifteen minutes by car — from the site.
From there, the team piled into a military transport. They would be
dropped within a mile of the silo and travel on foot to their
positions.

Alex and Raz would wait
until they were on location before taking a rental sedan. Alex and
Raz would approach on their own, scope out the site, and call in
the team. While they waited, Raz reviewed the satellite information
one last time.