Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 03 (34 page)

BOOK: Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 03
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Pulliam Estate. It had been built after the 1996 election as a retreat for the former vice president after his humiliating defeat in the presidential election. He lived there, a virtual recluse, for two years until he and Pee-wee Herman teamed up for remakes of the Martin and Lewis films. Eventually, he moved to France

to be with his audience and sold the place to a holding company, Fair Lady Properties.

"I obtained the floorplan from notes made by the last assessor to go out there. The security is as noted and was suitable for the protection of a former vice president." Jytte glanced down at some notes she had made. "Recent utility records indicated a lower usage than was present during the days the first occupant owned it, suggesting either an independent power source or some of the systems being turned off."

Crowley stared at the floorplan for a moment, then nodded. "Big enough, isolated. The greenhouse

extension could be used for almost anything and easily converted into a lab. It's on the top of a small

plateau, which means guarding the entrances is easy. The property is large enough to hold the troops he

would bring through if he was looking at a limited strikeforce. From the location here to the north of

Kingman, both Flagstaff and Las Vegas are well within striking range."

I glanced at my watch, "ft's 9 a.m. now. Hal, Bat and the other wounded are due back here on the plane this afternoon, ft will take us 3]/2 hours to get out there." I looked over at Crowley. "Soft penetration, quick recon?"

The occultist nodded. "In and back out fast. If it is the staging area, we will know. If it isn't, maybe we can find

clues to what is."

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Jytte l
ooked up at
me
from the far end of the table. "If we leave here by 5 p.m., it will be getting dark out

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there."

"We?" 1 searched her face for a clue about her feelings, but the mask had slid back into place. "I would not have thought you want to go back there. I assumed Crowley and I would handle this."

"1 know, but logic would dictate that having me along would mean instant confirmation of the target's identity."

"But, Ms. Ravel, you could also come undone." Crowley shook his head. "Are you certain your remaining behind would not be best?"

Jytte met his questioning gaze openly. "No, for two reasons. The first is that I actually do need to face what I left behind there. If I do not do that, 1 will become just like a plant that outgrows its pot. As much as I might not like to acknowledge my past, and as much as I don't want to discover it all at once, I do need to know who 1 am so 1 can grow."

I nodded. "And the other reason? You're not thinking of shooting the place up, are you?"

"No, but there is one thing I don't think you've considered, gentlemen. I have." Jytte set her fists on her hips and 1 knew instantly we would not be leaving her in Phoenix when we headed out. "If I escaped from that facility, the chances are excellent that more people like me are still trapped there. 1 may not know who 1
was,
but I do know that the person I am now cannot leave those people behind. Having once been in the state of mind they are likely experiencing, you'll need me to get them out."

Dark Conspiracy 3-27.jpg

I studied the buildings on the Pulliam estate through the Starlight scope Crowley passed me. A greenish

tinge defined the buildings, clinging to their sharp lines and outlining the conservative nature of the

architecture. The main building, a ranch-style house, had a two-story addition at the northern end.

Beyond it, I caught a hint of the greenhouse that had been pointed out on the floorplan.

The out-buildings consisted of a pool house, a guest house and a detached garage large enough for at least three vehicles. The garage had apartments built into its second story. Kennels stood between the garage

and the main house.

"I don't see anything. Mo movement, no lights, nothing."

"Agreed." Crowley took the scope from me and offered it to Jytte, but she shook her head. "1 think we can proceed."

Wordlessly, the three of us got up from the low hill that hid our Range Rover II from sight of the house

and started to work our way down the hillside. Moving in the dark, with only a sliver of moon to guide

us, we had to go slowly to avoid injury and doing anything that might alert people on the estate of our

approach. If things went as well as

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possi
ble, we could be in and out with no one the wiser.

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Despite our desire to make this reconnaissance foray quiet and bloodless, each of us packed a considerable amount of hardware. I wore two Colt Kraits—one on each hip—and a Wildey Wolf in a Bianchi shoulder

holster under my left arm. The automatic pistols had served me well during the time I'd been in Coyote's cadre and, after the incident with the Aryans, I felt damned near naked without them. 1 also carried an HK MP-7

that was suppressed and silenced, just in case I needed to fill the air with a lot of slugs in a hurry.

My black fatigues made me one with the night. The thigh pockets were where I stashed the clips for my

pistols, while the pouches lying flat against my stomach carried the spare ammo for the MP-7. My canteen

hung from my belt at the back. Beneath the fatigues, I wore a standard Kevlar vest with trauma padding

thickening it over my midline front and back, ft by no means made me invulnerable, but widened the line

between instant death and serious wounding. As I often walked that line, broadening it made the journey so much easier.

Jytte wore the same sort of fatigues as I did, and she tucked her long, blond hair up into a black watch-cap.

She decided against carrying any pistols and instead opted for an Ml 77 carbine. While it used the same rifle cartridge as its big brother, the Ml 6A2, the carbine's collapsible stock and shortened barrel made it perfect for close combat. She carried enough spare clips to finish a war, and I hoped she would not initiate anything we were ill-equipped to survive.

Crowley eschewed fatigues in favor of a thick black sweater and black jeans. He used a harness and belt to carry the Mac-1 Os he favored, as well as their spare clips. In a holster on his right hip, he also carried a silvery baton that I assumed to be some sort of stunner. I asked him

about it, but he only descnoea it as an oia inena ana wouiu tell me nothing more.

Crowley led the way across the cactus and tumbled rock expanse between us and the estate. 1 brought up the rear and caught bursts of anxiety from Jytte. In driving up toward to the area, she had been subdued and drank in everything Crowley and 1 could think of as last-minute instructions about the recon. When we left Route 93

and headed north, she became more agitated, leaving none of us with any doubt concerning the choice of

targets for the night's outing.

Halfway to the target, we stopped in a shadowed gully and drank some water. Using simple hand signals,

Crowley urged caution and silence. I reached out and gave Jytte's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She smiled at me, the tremor in her bottom lip betraying her nervousness, then followed Crowley back into the night.

The only viable approach to reach the top of the low mesa was up the causeway that clung to the side of the mesa like ivy. While the road had been graded, it had not been paved or landscaped. The rocks on either side gave us plenty of cover, if we needed to hide from a vehicle going in or coming back out. Because of the

stillness of the night air and the utter darkness so far from civilization, we assumed we would have plenty of warning about any approach.

We found the first passive security device halfway up the causeway. Thick cement blocks had been set in the roadway so that a driver would have to swerve around them. Anyone attempting to dash up the road to make a quick car-bomb attack or the like would have to slow down here or literally go off the road and down the side of the mesa. Slowing would make negotiating the barriers feasible, but would also leave the vehicle open to fire from guards located farther up the hill.

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Crowl
ey dropped to one knee in the shadow of the first barrier. From a pouch on the left side of his belt h
e

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pulled ou
t a small aerosol can and pumped some air into it. He hit the nozzle, and a thin mistcloud hissed
out.

The cloud drifted invisibly through the darkness, then became a dazzling spot of purple-blue light for a

second.

From an earlier explanation I knew the chemicals in the mist fluoresced under ultra-violet light. Using the spray cautiously, Crowley was able to define where (IV security lasers criss-crossed the area in a warning net.

He located more than 1 felt comfortable negotiating, but far fewer than required to make our passage

impossible.

Past that, we continued up the causeway to the main gate. A chain and padlock held the cyclone-fence closed.

I squatted next to Crowley, and he pointed out the wires that electrified the fence. He produced a two-tined probe with a small LED display and thrust the tines in between the strands of the fence. Clearly puzzled by the result, he used the device twice more, the last time actually touching the tines to the wire itself.

He drew his hand across his own neck, letting me know the fence was dead. Standing, he crossed to the

padlock and produced a set of lockpicks. He had Jytte hold the lock steady while he opened it, then he pulled the gates far enough apart for the three of us to slip between them. Closing the gates, he reset the lock but did not snap it shut.

A close inspection of the estate showed us what the Starlight scope had hidden. Long, dry grasses

predominated in the yard, even growing up in between the slabs of concrete laid down for the driveway near the garage and back behind the pool house for a helipad. One of the doors to the pool house stood half-ajar, and a couple of tum-bleweeds lay up against the interior of the fence.

The whole compound looked deserted, but clearly it had not been abandoned for terribly long. None of the

windows I could see were broken. From the causeway, we did have evidence that the laser-intrusion system

still functioned—indicating a basic desire to keep the place inviolate. I found myself hoping that this place had been abandoned only since Pygmalion had taken Ryuhito away. That would explain the good shape it was

in
and
let me imagine we might find something of use in it.

The three of us made our way to the main building. As we closed on it, 1 began to feel uneasy. It was odd because I felt fairly certain that no threat to me existed in the whole place. In addition, the sensation rose and fell as if it were an emotional siren undulating out a warning. As I got closer to the house, the sensation became stronger and almost overpowering.

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