Plot Line (7 page)

“I have no doubt, General,” Devlin said,
“but I have to assume the worst. It’s our job to presume Rehnquist
has found a way out and, if so, he presents a real danger to your
project and to certain persons in the Pentagon and Congress.”

McLain nodded reluctantly then conceded,
“You have our support.”

There was a heavy pause, sodden with
tension. “How do they feel about all this?”

McLain stared at Devlin as if he could pull
back flesh and bone and peer right into his brain. A moment later
he shifted his gaze to Quinn and Betty. “Such matters are on a need
to know basis. This project has an above Top Secret
classification.”

“General,” Devlin said. “I know you received
commands from the Pentagon to render any help we request. I also
know you were informed of our security clearance.”

“What about them,” McLain said nodding at
Devlin’s associates.

“They’ve been cleared and briefed. We are on
the same team, General. We serve the same government, we have the
same goals.”

McLain exchanged a glance with Captain
Taylor, then said flatly, “They’re unhappy.”

“How unhappy?” Devlin pressed.

“Controlled. No problems, but they’ve made
their displeasure known.”

“Can they help us?” Devlin asked.

“I haven’t asked, they haven’t offered,”
McLain admitted.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s our problem. We should be the
ones to fix it.”

“But they would help if we asked?”

McLain nodded. “But if you know as much as
you say you do, then you know how messy that could get.”

“With all due respect, General McLain,”
Devlin said. “We’re up to our necks in mess as it is. It can’t get
much worse.”

“It can get worse, Mr. Chambers. It can get
far worse than you imagine.”

Colin Rehnquist had moved
from the electronics room. It had been difficult.
Every corridor had at least one security camera trained on it. With
the base on high security alert, Colin would not be able to walk
ten paces before being surrounded by a half dozen armed guards
looking to please their commander. So Colin had to be careful. His
life depended on it.

Circumstance dictated his decision. If he
could not move where people normally traveled, then he would have
to find a new way to get around. These weren’t new thoughts. Colin
was a man of science, familiar with planning. His desire to escape
had been nesting in him for months, so he had given it much
thought. He went about his business as usual all the time studying
his surroundings, learning, analyzing, and memorizing every door,
every security camera, and every shift change. It took great mental
discipline, but he had done it, committing much of the bases’ floor
plan to memory. His security clearance allowed him access to nearly
every area of the facility. Still there were holes in his
knowledge, gaps that could not be filled by mere observation. To
ask for blueprints would raise suspicion and there was enough of
that going around.

The room Colin had first hid in had been
selected carefully. Not only was it out of the unblinking gaze of
the security cameras, but it also adjoined the storeroom he was now
in. In turn this storeroom was situated next to the mechanical
room, separated only by a partition made of aluminum studs and
drywall. The mechanical room was a large expanse filled with
ventilation equipment, water heaters, air purifiers and dozens of
other esoteric machines that kept the base habitable for humans.
Ducts and pipes ran overhead, concealed by a drop ceiling composed
of two-foot by four-foot sound absorbing panels hung from heavy
wire. To make the underground facility less cave-like, ceilings had
been hung in every room and office. Only in the corridors were
pipes and vents visible.

The storeroom was a repository for all
things janitorial. Boxes of bathroom supplies were neatly stacked
on metal shelves. In the corner of the room was a wheeled bucket
with two mops, their handles leaning precariously against the
unpainted drywall. Bottles of cleansers, bleach and floor wax lined
the bottom shelf. Recessed into the ceiling was a fluorescent light
fixture, which Colin, fearful light would bleed under the door
drawing attention, refused to turn on. Instead, he used a small,
pocket flashlight.

Holding the flashlight in
his mouth and moving quietly as possible, Colin cleared a vertical
area from the shelves removing just enough contents and relocating
them on the floor near the opposite wall to form a ladder. Before
putting his weight on any part of the metal shelves, he cast the
beam of light to the back edges verifying the shelf was securely
attached to the partition. It was. Large bolts fastened the shelf’s
metal uprights to the wall. The shelf would not budge. He had done
this three times already, but he had to be sure. He was on the
verge of panic. He had abandoned his post setting off a manhunt.
There was no backing out now. Even if he walked into General
McLain’s office and turned himself in, they wouldn’t forgive him.
He didn’t know what they
would
do, but knowing what they
could
do terrified him.

As he worked, images
of
them
circulated
in his brain like paper caught in a tornado. Slowly he raised his
right foot and placed it on the first shelf. Taking hold of a
higher shelf, he pulled himself up. The plan was simple in concept,
but simple plans could go awry. He could not be too cautious. The
set of shelves that now served as his ladder were two meters high
leaving a space less than a meter between it and the suspended
ceiling panels.

Slowly, careful not to fall or to knock
anything from the shelves, Colin climbed the improvised rungs. A
small man, Colin was able to position himself on the top shelf.
Lying on his back, the ceiling tiles hovered just a handful of
centimeters away—so close he had to remove the pocket light from
between his teeth.

His heart rattled in the cage of his chest
and he drew in bucketfuls of dusty, recycled air. Then, raising his
hands, he pushed against one of the tiles. It came loose from its
T-bar support. Pushing up, Colin was able to slide the panel back
and over another tile. He looked up into the black inverted well
that was the space between the ceiling and the cavern roof above.
Directing the light into the black space, he saw what he had hoped
to see, expected to see, needed to see. Square sheet metal ducts
ran in long horizontal paths, like an endless train.

He had no interest in the ducts. He had seen
many television shows and movies where the hero makes his escape
through a ventilation conduit, but Colin was too smart for that.
Thin metal straps were attached to channels by sheet metal screws
suspended the ducts. He might not be a large man, but the odds of
the duct giving way under his weight were too great to risk.
Besides, any movement in the duct would be heard throughout the
base. It would be impossible to flee. He had two other problems.
The pressure in the ducts was monitored. The engineers who
maintained the environment in the underground base would
immediately know if something were obstructing the airflow. No,
escape through the air ducts would have to be left to people who
wrote movie scripts. He needed something more practical.

He saw what he was looking for: pipes. A
series of eight, two-inch pipes ran horizontally just to Colin’s
right. To his left was a large, six inch, cast iron waste pipe that
ran from the restrooms on the upper levels. The large black pipe
ran half the length of the base until it ended in a waste treatment
area one hundred meters away. Colin wouldn’t be traveling far.

It was slow and painful, but Colin had
worked his way through the two by four-foot cavity left by the
removed tile and took his footing on the waste pipe. The conduit
was supported by the partitions that made up the various offices
and rooms. It had the additional support of one-inch straps spaced
every two meters. Using the straps to steady himself, Colin started
his journey in darkness.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death. He repeated the phrase, whispering just under
his breath. So quiet were his words, he could barely hear them
himself. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil. Yea, though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

Colin
was
fearful. He was more afraid than
he had ever been in his life.

Seven

The call had come at nine that
evening
. Ray was home alone, working on his
novel.

“Ray,” the caller said. “Pack for three
days. A car will be there in ten minutes. You know the rules.” The
caller hung up.

Ray recognized Devlin’s voice immediately.
“So much for writing.”. Powering down his computer, Ray gathered a
few clothes, toiletries, a book, and the laptop computer Devlin had
given him. True to Devlin’s word, a car pulled arrived out front.
He phoned his wife. “Business calls, kiddo. I’ll be gone two or
three days.” Nora didn’t ask where he was going. They’d been
through this situation several times before, but he had never been
gone for more than a day. She knew not to ask questions. This was
part of the job that paid them so well.

A young man dressed in a sport coat, slacks
and loafers helped Ray with his bag and then whisked him off to a
small community airport in San Bernardino where a business jet
awaited.

The Lear jet flew east and Ray tried to
track his location by watching for landmarks that glowed eerily
under a full, ivory moon. The task proved impossible. He recognized
the occasional city, but had no way of knowing if his guesses were
correct. The wide expanse of sulfur yellow lights he saw an hour
after take off could be Phoenix but every thing else was too remote
to identify. He did know they were over the great southwest desert.
That much he could see out the small windows of the plane.

Ray settled in his seat and waited. He was
alone in the passenger compartment. The Lear Jet could seat ten
comfortably, making his isolation all the more real.

The jet landed at a small airfield with a
single runway. Of the two crew who flew the plane, only one exited
the cockpit. He opened the cabin door, removed Ray’s bag and
computer and walked down the steps to the tarmac. Ray followed. As
he stepped from the cabin, he was engulfed by the great blackness
of a desert night. The smell of juniper and scrub oak filled the
air. A stiff, warm, dry breeze blew from the south. A low set of
mountains was to the west, awash in moonlight. Overhead the black
inverted bowl of night sky was bejeweled with stars, dimmed only
slightly by the moon.

“You look well,” a voice said. Ray turned
and saw Devlin Chambers taking the bags from the co-pilot. “I trust
your flight was a good one.”

“Quick and unexpected,” Ray said.

“Yes, I understand.” Devlin was dressed in a
suit. There he stood, surrounded by desert darkness, on a deserted
airstrip wearing a three-piece suit. Ray might have laughed if he
hadn’t felt so adrift. “I hate doing business this way, Ray, but
such is the nature of my work. Secrets piled upon secrets. I’m glad
you’re here.”

“Just where is . . . here?” Ray watched as
the co-pilot walked up the small stairs and disappeared into the
Lear.

“We better step away. Don’t want to stand
too close to the engines. They make a terrible racket.” Devlin
picked up Ray’s things and moved from the jet.

“They’re leaving us here? Stranding us in
the desert?”

“We’re not stranded, Ray. Follow me,
please.”

“Where?”

“There.” Devlin nodded. “That building.”

In the distance stood a wood structure the
size of a small barn. It’s siding was irregular and worn. It looked
as if it had been there since before World War II.

Devlin moved forward, walking briskly, his
back turned to the Lear. Ray jogged a few steps to catch up. “I
don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but I’m a little uneasy here.
Camping isn’t my style.”

Devlin laughed lightly. “Not my style,
either.” He said no more.

The inside of the building looked as
ramshackle as the exterior. A Coleman battery powered lantern
waited for them just inside one of the two creaky doors at the
front of the structure. The lamp was lit. Apparently, Devlin had
been waiting in the old barn.

“Would you mind picking up the light? My
hands seem to be full.”

Ray reached down and took the lantern by the
handle and raised it, holding it at arms length as if it gave off a
noxious odor. The lantern emitted a stark white light; casting
shadows on the walls that were ten times larger than the objects
that cast them. Dust covered the floor; spider webs hung like
tattered drapes from split and twisted rafters. The air was warm
and smelled of dry rot. Ray thought he heard the shrill squeal of a
rat. His discomfort grew.

“I apologize for the surroundings.” Devlin
said as he walked the length of the barn, leading Ray to the back
wall. He set the duffle bag and computer case next to a packing
crate. “Things will become clear in a few moments.” He reached
inside his coat and for a breathless moment, Ray thought the man
was going for a gun. Instead, he removed a white handkerchief and
wiped his hands. He was a fastidious man who seemed uncomfortable
surrounded by so much dirt and disarray.

“I must admit I’m a little uncomfortable
with all this.”

“I imagine. I have a story to tell you and I
need you to listen to all of it. Afterward, I’ll answer all the
questions I can.” He looked around the barn. “I wish I could offer
you a chair or some refreshment, but what you see is all we have
for the moment.”