The Curse of Medusa

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hawke and Kim Taylor approached the heavily-armed PFPA men guarding the external doors at the entrance to the Pentagon. The Pentagon Force Protection Agency was a civilian law enforcement organization within the command structure of the Department of Defense. It was assigned to protect not only the world-famous Pentagon but also the Mark Center Building and other smaller DoD facilities in the city.

Kim showed her pass and Hawke followed her as she navigated her way deftly through the labyrinthine defense headquarters until they finally reached Brooke’s sprawling suite of offices. They passed more yet guards at the door to the outer office of Brooke’s private secretary and after a brief word with his personal assistant they entered a bustling, noisy room full of men and women talking into cell-phones and vying for their boss’s attention.

Hawke took a look around the hectic office. “There are more guns around here than at your average firing range.”

“He’s the US Secretary of Defense and next in the presidential line of succession, plus we’re in the middle of our worst terror attack, Hawke,” Kim said, keeping her voice to a whisper. “What did you expect?”

Point taken, he thought. “We still need to speak to him.”

He looked over at Brooke. Alex was beside him as an assistant was now directing the boss’s attention to one of the many plasma screens neatly fitted into the far wall of the Secretary’s office. Everyone in the room watched in silence as a second helicopter drone appeared on the capital’s horizon and fired another Hellfire missile.

This time the target was the Lincoln Memorial, and a collective gasp of horror went around the room as the north side of the impressive monument exploded in a massive fireball. A few seconds later a grisly, black column of smoke billowed and plumed into the night sky, lit yellow by the memorial’s powerful floodlights.

“It’s another drone, sir!”

Brooke slammed his fist on his desk. “I can see that, damn it! Just blow the god-damn thing out of the sky like the last one.”

Another flurry of phone calls was made, and Hawke watched as two F-15s flew over the city, one of them firing an AIM-9 Sidewinder missile at the drone. The enemy aircraft tried to take evasive action and dodged the missile, but the USAF fighter jets were too fast for it and after firing another heat-seeking Sidewinder they hit the target. Everyone in the room cheered as the drone exploded above the Potomac and crashed into the water in an orange fireball.

“Now’s our chance,” Kim said.

They stepped over to Brooke’s desk.

“Mr Secretary,” Kim said.

Brooke looked at them distractedly. “What is it? Oh…” His face warmed for a moment when he saw Hawke. “Joe, hi.”

“We need to talk, Jack.”

“Shoot — but make it fast. As you can see, those sons-of-bitches somehow just got another goddamned drone up.”

“It’s about the Smithsonian.”

“What about it?”

“It’s Frank Watkins, Jack.”

Brooke smiled for a second and nodded his head. “How is the old bastard?”

“Dead, sir,” Kim said.

Brooke’s face dropped. “Dead?”

Hawke nodded. “Professional hit, and more than that — we found the President’s order on his desk — the one sanctioning the release of an object from Archive 7.”

“I can’t believe Frank’s dead… You think he was murdered by Kimble’s men?”

“We can’t be sure at this stage.”

Brooke paused as he took the news on board. “So what did Kimble order from the archive?”

“We don’t know what was released, or to whom, but whatever the hell it was, something very bad went on in that Archive, Jack. We found two men turned to stone.”

Brooke’s eyes widened with shock. “Turned to stone?”

Hawke nodded again. “But here’s the thing — when we mentioned it to the President he just shut us down — told us point blank to leave it and get back to the White House.” Hawke lowered his voice. “I think President Kimble is covering something up.”

Brooke looked at the two of them, glancing over his shoulder as an admiral brushed past him with a cell-phone in each hand.

“What is it, Dad?” Alex asked, suddenly concerned.

Brooke didn’t reply.

Alex tried again. “Whatever the hell you know about this, Dad it’s time to bring us in.”

Brooke was silent for a long time before replying, his face tormented by indecision, his mind torn in two directions — his duty to protect national security interests on the one hand but his responsibility to help Hawke, Kim and Alex as much as possible to stop the threat on the other.

“Come with me.”

He led them out of the main office into a smaller ante-room and closed the door.

“This is my private office. We can talk in here undisturbed.”

“Sounds serious,” Alex said.

Brooke ignored the comment. “What I’m about to tell you is highly classified. In fact, it’s the second highest classification we have.”

Hawke, Kim and Alex took their seats and watched the Defense Secretary as he thought about what to say next. This shit right here, Alex thought, is why my parents’ marriage fell apart.

“Back in the late sixties, the international political landscape was very different to today. We were in the middle of the Cold War with the Soviet Union, and our foreign policy was, accordingly, slightly more…”

“Paranoid?” Alex said.

Brooke gave his daughter a withering glance. “I was going to say slightly more interventionist than today. You had to be there to understand how it was. Like today, covert intelligence gathering was a big part of that policy. We had listening stations all over the world in a bid to intercept communiqués passing back and forth between the Kremlin and various Soviet client states around the world. These proxy states — Cuba, North Vietnam, Mozambique — were very important to the USSR as part of their plan to expand communism around the world.”

Hawke glanced at his watch. “Jack, we’re short on time — I think we’d prefer the Bluffer’s Guide if that’s okay with you.”

Alex winced, knowing that few people could talk to the Pentagon chief like that and get away with it, but when her father cracked a quick smile and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head, she knew Hawke had worked his magic on yet another unsuspecting soul. Maybe it was the accent, she thought.

“Sure, I’m sorry. The bottom line is simple. The NSA commissioned the construction of a listening station in northern Norway — a strong NATO ally since 1949 — with a view to monitoring radio signals in the far north arctic region. You wouldn’t believe what the Russians get up to up there… Anyway, so far so good, but here’s where it gets its classification level. With the construction of the listening station going on up there it was decided to attach a science station alongside. Having the two side by side was a big saving in funding.”

He paused again, and bit his lip in hesitation.

“Dad?”

“The men building the station found something in the ice core up there.”

Alex and Hawke shared a glance. Both had the same question.

The obvious question.

“What did they find, Jack?”

Brooke rubbed his nose and jaw, still uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. Alex recognized his body language easily enough. He had done the same moves the afternoon he told her he was moving out to live across town. She was just a teenager at the time, and she could recall every instant of that moment — what they were both wearing, the way the sun came through the window and lit the dust motes floating down to her carpet, the words her father had used — it’s like this honey, your mother and I have decided to…

“Spit it out, Dad.” Even after so many years, her words were tinged with the bitterness of that memory.

“They found the severed head of what we later learned was Medusa.”

Alex looked at Hawke and knew he was thinking the same as her — an amazing revelation, but easier to accept given the events of the last few months. Kim Taylor on the other hand, was speechless with shock.

“Go on,” Hawke said.

“It gets worse. You’re aware of the mythological legend surrounding Medusa?”

Alex nodded gently.

“Sure,” Hawke said. “Anyone who looked at Medusa got turned to stone.”

Brooke sighed. “Turns out it’s not just a legend.”

“What do you mean?” Kim asked. “Is this even for real?”

“What happened at the Norwegian station came to light after the men working there stopped returning communications with a US air force base in Germany, which they used as a relay station. Obviously our guys got suspicious and a man named Colonel John Hill went up there to find out what was going on. At the time it was feared they’d been attacked by the Soviet Navy. What they found disabused them of that notion forever.”

“What did they find, exactly?” Hawke asked.

“They found all the men at the station had been turned to stone, and worse than that, when they discovered Medusa, several members of the search and recovery team were also turned to stone, including Colonel Hill himself. After they discovered what was doing it, the surviving men took the necessary precautions and secured the head. It was brought to the US and secured in a facility here — the one you went to today — Archive 7.”

“And it’s been there ever since?” Alex asked.

Brooke nodded. “Until today. When you told me about those men being turned to stone I knew straight away what Kimble had ordered out of Archive 7, but why is anyone’s guess.”

“How many people know about this?” Hawke asked.

“Not many. Less than a dozen by my reckoning, and that may or may not include our new Commander-in-Chief,” he said, referring to Kimble. “I don’t want to go all Rumsfeld on you both, but I know not even I know everything. When you get as far up the greasy pole as I have, you start to learn things about the world… dark things.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Kim said, rubbing her forehead.

A look of grim determination crossed Brooke’s face. “Now I think we can all understand the importance of what’s happening today. This isn’t just about rescuing the President, or stopping these maniacs from killing millions of people. This is about the vital national security of the United Stated and some of our most highly classified secrets.”

“So what’s our next move?” Kim asked. “We still have no idea who’s behind this.”

Brooke sighed. “We have two problems — we need to know where these guys are operating out of — for that we wait to see where the Novak lead takes us. The other problem is we need to know just how this thing has the power to turn people to stone. That’s why you’re here, Alex. I know you can do that for me. Please remember this isn’t something we can throw out to just anyone. No one can ever know about what we’re talking of here, all right?”

Alex and Kim nodded, but Hawke wasn’t so sure.

“And one more thing, while we’re on this. You should all know that The Tomb of Eternity was quarantined by Eddie Kosinski’s office.”

“The Tomb of what?” Kim asked.

“On whose orders?” Hawke asked, ignoring Kim.

“An unknown official, and I can say no more than that… Now, we have to get back to these attacks.”

Outside the office, Hawke, Kim and Alex walked back to the main office, still buzzing with people on phones, trawling through computer records and CCTV footage.

“You know what I’m thinking?” Alex said.

Kim was still speechless.

Hawke looked at Alex. “If that’s the second highest classification, what the hell is the first?”

“Pretty much,” Alex replied, and turned to Hawke and Kim. “Listen, I need to grab a coffee — I’ll catch up with you in a second.”

It was true that she needed a coffee, but it was also true that she needed time to herself to think about whether or not she should make another call to Ryan Bale. As she made her way along the corridor, she decided she needed to make that call.