Area 51

CHAPTER 29

“I’ve got to make a phone call,” Turcotte said. Things had been quiet for the past hour as they got closer to Area 51.

Nabinger and Von Seeckt were in the back, napping.

“To whom?” Kelly asked.

The dark pavement went by under their wheels with a soothing, rhythmic thump. Turcotte had been thinking things through for the past couple of hours and he’d made a decision. He quickly told Kelly about Dr. Duncan and the reason he’d been sent into Area 51. He told her about trying to call twice and the line being disconnected and calling Colonel Mickell at Fort Bragg.

“So are you going to try her number again or are you trying Mickell?” Kelly asked when he was done.

“Mickell. We’re going to need Duncan if she’s legitimate.”

“If she’s legitimate, why is your line to her dead?” Kelly asked.

“That might be something out of her control and awareness,” Turcotte said. He spotted an all-night gas station. He pulled over and left the engine running while he went to the phone booth. When he was done, he hopped back in the driver’s seat, handing Kelly a slip of paper. “Duncan’s phone number in Vegas,” he said. “Mickell says that as far as he can find out, Duncan’s legitimate.”

“Do you trust Mickell?” Kelly asked.

“I’m not sure I trust anyone anymore,” Turcotte responded.

Several miles went by, then Kelly spoke softly. “This is the road on which Franklin was reported to have been killed.”

Turcotte glanced over from the driver’s seat. “It’s not your fault.”

Kelly returned his glance. “Maybe we should have left him there. He wouldn’t be dead at least.”

“He’d be worse than dead if he was still in that damn coffin they had him in,” Turcotte said. “We didn’t kidnap him, we didn’t take him to Dulce, and we certainly didn’t mess with his mind. Gullick’s people did that. Remember it. Don’t start what-iffing. We did the right thing.”

“I’m going to miss him,” Kelly said. “He was a good friend.”

“You’ll have to save that for later,” Turcotte said. “Right now we have a job to do.” The road was a long black ribbon in front of them, the headlights punching a cone of brightness down the center. “This might help. Remember that guy Prague? The one who set you up?”

“Yes.”

“He was my commander in Nebraska.”

Kelly sat up straighten “The one you killed.”

“The very same.”

“Good.”

“Utah State Police found Simmons’s body thirty minutes ago “ Quinn announced. He had been working in the conference room, away from the hustle of the control center, when General Gullick had walked in.

“Where?” Gullick asked.

“Capitol Reef National Park. It’s in the south-central part of the state.” “Any sign of the others?”

“No, sir.”

“How did he die?”

“It appears he fell off a cliff.”

Gullick thought about it for a few moments. “They’re heading to Salt Lake City. Send some Nightscape people there. Have them watch all media outlets.”

“If we send people out, we’ll have to cut back on some of our security here, sir.”

Gullick glared at his subordinate.

“I’ll get right on it, sir.”

“I want the body policed up, also,” Gullick said.

“Yes, sir.”

“One less loose end to deal with,” Gullick muttered. He turned back to his computer and the after-action report from Dulce, which he had been reading. “What’s this rongorongo thing they took?”

“From Easter Island, sir,” Quinn replied. “It’s one of the rune sources.” “So they can read the damn thing and we were never able to?” Gullick asked.

“If Nabinger is legitimate, yes, sir, they can.” Quinn had brought up the same file the general was reading. “They also took the photos of the tablets from Hangar Two.”

Gullick tapped his large forefinger on the desktop.

“Nothing in the media?”

“No, sir.”

“Nothing from any of our sources?”

“No, sir.”

“They just disappeared and left Simmons’s body there?”

The tone indicated it was a rhetorical question and Major Quinn remained silent.

“Where’s Jarvis? Is he out of town?”

The question caught Quinn off guard. His fingers flew over the keyboard. “Uh, he’s in Las Vegas, sir.”

“I want him nearby. Tell him to monitor the kooks at the mailbox. We’re too close to have some flake on the perimeter like we had during the last Nightscape mission — the one that helped start all this shit.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll relay that.”

Gullick stood. “Stay on top of everything. Let me know the second there’s a peep from those people or from any of our media sources.”

“Yes, sir.” Quinn waited until General Gullick had left the room. Then he left his side chair and sat down in the seat at the end of the table: Gullick’s chair. He pulled out the keyboard that was stashed underneath the tabletop and turned the general’s computer on.

He began searching, going through files, looking for some clue as to why things were happening here the way they were. What was the rush for the mothership flight?

Why had the Nightscape missions changed from being relatively benign to now including abductions and mutilations?

Was there a national security objective involved here that Quinn had not been included on?

Quinn gave himself ten minutes, knowing that Gullick was a creature of habit, then he shut the computer down.

He hadn’t found anything, but the next time the general came in and left, he’d go back to looking.