The Reply

CHAPTER 33

The six talons were still crisscrossing each other’s paths as they moved toward Earth. The large open field in Central Park had been cleared and blocked off. UNAOC was busy preparing the format for the reception of the Airlia and determining the pecking order of world leaders who would get to meet Aspasia.

It was the middle of the night, four hours before dawn, the last dawn before the Airlia arrived. The headlines of the early-morning editions currently being printed trumpeted it as the last day the human race would stand alone on the face of the Earth.

Things behind the scenes in the Cube looked very different, though. Major Quinn had finally been brought fully into the loop by the Pentagon, based on the assumption that if anyone knew how to counter the foo fighters, it would be the personnel at Area 51. He also had forwarded intercepts from Zandra in South Korea to STAAR in Antarctica, and that was causing great consternation in the covert world in Washington as the CIA was denying she worked for them and no one could quite figure out who Zandra or her organization, STAAR, was, or how it had managed to gain such power.

Kelly Reynolds watched all this with dismay overlaid with grief over the news that Peter Nabinger and Mike Turcotte were dead. She was in the Cube conference room with Quinn, listening to the latter’s video-conference call with the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the President in the War Room under the Pentagon.

“What about this STAAR person you have there, Major?” General Carthart, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, asked.

“She’s still in the hangar with the bouncer,” Quinn answered.

“Any idea what she’s up to?” Carthart asked.

“No, sir.”

“The hell with that,” Hunt, the director of the CIA, snarled. “If none of us in this room know, then something is seriously wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” the President said. “There is a presidential directive authorizing STAAR. It was signed forty years ago by Eisenhower but it is still legal and binding today. I have to believe my predecessor had a good reason for signing it and deliberately keeping us in the dark.” The President turned to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “General?”

Carthart leaned forward. “We’ve got twenty-four hours until the Airlia land. I agree we ought to proceed a bit more cautiously. Our actions might be precipitating the aggressive actions of the foo fighters. I suggest we hold off on taking direct action until we know for sure what is going on.”

“What about China?” Kelly asked.

“I recommend we cut our losses there,” Carthart said.

“And the foo fighters?” the President asked.

“The two that downed our aircraft in China are heading southeast,” Quinn said, “and are currently over the Indian Ocean.”

“Their estimated destination?”

“We believe they are going to a site in the Rift Valley where UNAOC has uncovered other Airlia artifacts.”

“What about this Antarctica business?” the President asked.

Quinn had the answer for that. “I think that STAAR took over a place called Scorpion Base. It’s the only logical place for these messages from the STAAR operatives to be terminating.”

“Anyone know anything about this Scorpion Base?” the President asked those in the War Room with him. When he got no reply, the President jabbed a finger at his camera, pointing at Quinn and Reynolds. “I want you to forward all information about the location of Scorpion Base to the War Room. We’ll proceed cautiously,” the President finally said, the strain of the last week showing on his face. “General Carthart, move the forces you need to cover the Airlia and STAAR sites.”

“I have a suggestion.” Kelly Reynolds was frustrated with these people and their defensive reactions.

“Go ahead,” the President said.

“Why don’t we just ask the STAAR representative here at Area 51 who they are?”

“That’s a good idea, Ms. Reynolds. Major Quinn, you do that. We’ll do what we have to on our end.”

The screen went dead and Kelly turned to Quinn. “He made the right decision about taking things slowly.”

Quinn didn’t look very agreeable. “What if he made the wrong decision?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “He made that decision, Kelly, because there is no other decision to make. Every time humans have confronted the Airlia’s equipment we’ve lost. Our best weapons don’t do us any good, so it’s easy to make a decision to keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best.”

“It’s all been a tragic mistake.” Kelly’s voice brooked no dissent. “Aspasia will clear this up when he lands.”

“What about Turcotte and Nabinger?” Quinn asked.

“I told them not to go,” Kelly said. “They should have listened.”

“But—” Quinn began, but she cut him off, whirling on him and getting close to his chest, poking him with her finger.

“No one is listening! No one! Not the President. Not you. No one. Don’t you understand? If we would only listen, it would all be all right, but we’re screwing everything up!”

Reynolds stormed off toward the elevator, leaving Quinn staring at her rapidly departing back.

Turcotte took stock of the situation in the growing daylight. They were only thirty meters from where the helicopter had crashed. The explosion had scattered wreckage in a hundred-meter circle and scorched the forest.

Harker, Howes, and DeCamp were battered but ready for action. O’Callaghan, the pilot, was nursing a broken hand but other than that seemed all right. Turcotte knew it was only a matter of time before the Chinese had aircraft flying overhead, searching for them. The terrain in the immediate area was extremely hilly and unpopulated.

“We need to get a message out,” Turcotte said.

Harker gave a bitter laugh. “How? We don’t have any radios. We’re screwed. No one knows we’re down here, and I don’t think anyone really gives a damn.”

Turcotte was looking about the clearing the chopper had torn through the trees. “Someone gives a damn. Dr. Duncan will be looking for us.”

“So?” Harker snapped. “How she gonna know we’re here and alive? And then how’s she’s gonna get us out?”

“I don’t know how she’s going to get us out, but I trust her to come up with something. But I do know how to let her know we’re here and alive.”

“Goddamn!” Major Quinn was fuming as he reentered the Cube. He quickly dialed the War Room in the Pentagon.

“The bouncer and Oleisa are gone,” he reported to the duty officer who answered.

“Gone?”

“They just took off. I guess we can’t ask Oleisa who the hell she works for now.” Covering the phone, he looked at one of his men. “Put Space Command’s link on screen. I want to know where our bouncer is going.”