Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 03 - Snow Cone (15 page)

The CIA officer that was standing next to
Galveston came up behind us.  “You have to come with us,” he announced.  “We have something to discuss.”

I looked at
Galveston and adjusted my coat.  “Well?”

“We go with them.  We don’t have a choice, do we?”  He directed the question at the man.

“No, you don’t,” he said, shaking his head.

“Alright then, let’s go,”
Galveston replied.

The officers walked us to the car and put us in the backseat.  The two operatives from the pub disappeared up the street.

“I could have got myself killed,” I exclaimed to Galveston next to me.

“No, they wouldn’t have shot you.  They may have pummeled you, but they weren’t going to shoot you.”

I sat staring at the men in front of me.  They didn’t speak and drove slowly back into the heart of Reykjavik.  Even though Galveston said they wouldn’t have hurt me, it was beginning to sink in on how dumb my maneuvers had been.  It wasn’t a fair fight, especially with men carrying guns.

We arrived at a small house near the
Pearl area where we had originally met up with Sally and Joe.  The officers guided us into the house and to a back room without windows.

The agent finally spoke again.  “Wait here, another officer will talk to you shortly.”

He left us in the room and closed the door behind him.

“They sure are secretive,” I declared.

“They’re spies.  Of course they’re secretive, that’s their business,” Galveston answered.

“What do they want to do with us?”

“If I knew that I would have told you.”

“Just like you told me they were CIA?” I retorted.

“Good point.  I probably wouldn’t have told you,” Galveston said truthfully.  “At least we can expect some answers.”

Just as I was about to give another biting reply, the door opened and in walked two men.

Galveston shook his head immediately.  “You have got to be kidding.”

-Chapter 26-

Galveston
stared at the men, not with shock, but with a complete look of disgust.  I figured he either knew the men, or he didn’t care for their clothing.  You never knew with Galveston.

“Dan Galveston—it’s been a long time,” the shorter of the two men said.

“Not long enough,” Galveston growled.  “What’s this about, Alexander.”

I was right that
Galveston knew one of the men, and he wasn’t disgusted by his poor choice in footwear.

“We’ll get to that.  This must be your partner.  Roger Murphy, is it?” Alexander asked with a pompous grin.

“Yes,” I answered.  “And you are?”

“Alexander Mayfield—CIA.”  He said the words with a bit of arrogance.  “I
’m the operations officer in this area.”

“In
Iceland?  That’s one hell of an assignment.  There’s a lot of espionage going on here,” Galveston responded bitingly.

Mayfield tightened his lips.  “I run operations out of
Europe, if you must know,” he said, the words sounding childish.

“Just get to it, Alexander.  We don’t have all day,”
Galveston said dismissively.

Mayfield was just about to respond when his colleague touched his arm and gave him the signal to stop. 
Galveston had hit a nerve.  He was good at that.

“I’m Curtis Browning, liaison with the Department of State.  I apologize for how we had to pick you up, but we had to make sure you would come with us,” the man said politely.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Browning.  How can we help—you,” Galveston said, emphasizing the word “you”.

“We received information from the Air Force about what you reported.  I must say, it took us a little time to track you down.  We had to eliminate any Dutch filmmakers in the area.”

“How did you find us then?” I inquired.  I was actually interested in how they knew where we were.

“We traced your passports in
Greenland, and the two people you are with.  When you got to Reykjavik we traced an IP address from Vanderbilt University to the hotel where you were staying,” Browning answered as if it were all too easy.

“I knew we shouldn’t have let Joe do any work,”
Galveston said to me.

“We would like to ask you about what you saw in
Greenland,”  Browning said and sat down in a chair across from us.

“Does he have to be here?”
Galveston questioned, pointing at Mayfield.

“I’m afraid so.  He has some information that may help our investigation.”  Browning replied and let out a slight sigh.  It appeared he didn’t want Mayfield around either.

I really wanted to know why Galveston disliked the man so much, but I decided it wasn’t the proper time or place to ask the question.  “I would like to know what the Air Force found.  They wouldn’t tell us anything of value, only that the gunmen we spotted had slipped away into the mountains.”

“We checked out the area that you told the Air Force about.  The gunmen did get away and the workers were of no help.  They all told us they were searching for
rubies as part of a mining operation.  They were all flown in from areas in Eastern Europe.  There are other companies searching for the same thing, so that was why they had to maintain secrecy using white clothing and only a few pieces of machinery,” Browning explained.  “The Air Force tried to send a team on the ground after a fly-over, but by then the armed men had left.  They destroyed anything of value, including the satellite truck you told the Air Force about.”

“Nice guys, leaving those men stranded on the ice,” I said.

“Yes.  Many of the men had wanted to leave but were scared to ask.”

“What were they really looking for, if I don’t know already,”
Galveston asked.

“I know you brought up the Thule Air Base crash.  We believe it has to do with that,” Browning said, just as Mayfield put out his hand.

“They shouldn’t be privy to that information,” he interjected.

“You shouldn’t use the word ‘privy’, Alexander,”
Galveston snapped back.

“They have the right to know.  We wouldn’t even know about the site if it wasn’t for them,” Browning responded forcefully.

Mayfield threw up his hands and turned his back to us.  “Amateurs involved in our investigation.  Why don’t we just call up
The
New York Times
for that matter,” he said loudly.

“You’re still just as big an ass as always, aren’t you, Alexander,”
Galveston goaded.

Mayfield turned with an angry look in his eye and acted like he was going to lunge at
Galveston.

“Mayfield!” Browning yelled.  “You’re in my territory.  They have a right to know, and I’m going to tell them.”

Mayfield backed off.  He was a tightly wound, little man.

“Sorry about the crack earlier about having an assignment in
Iceland,” Galveston whispered to Browning.

The man gave him a quick nod and a small smile.  I liked this Browning guy; the other one, not so much.

“We believe this was not an operation to find rubies, but to find the remnants of the crash from Thule Air Base,” he said seriously.

“So all the parts weren’t found,” I interjected.

“That’s right.  Portions of the fourth bomb were never recovered.  It was believed to have broken up into their two stages, one of which was the nuclear catalyst.”

“Of course I’m confused.  What are they after?” I wondered.

“I’m not a nuclear physicist, but this is best way I understand it,” Browning said truthfully.  “This was a hydrogen bomb, and this type produces a fusion reaction.  Fission is the opposite reaction and that was the type of bomb dropped at the end of the Second World War.  For a hydrogen bomb to detonate, there has to be a fission component to cause a reaction.  There are two stages.  In the first stage a fission bomb implodes and gives off x-rays.  This causes uranium to undergo fission.  The heat and pressure cause certain compounds in the second stage to undergo fusion—then the bomb explodes.”

“Good old American insanity,”
Galveston announced.

“And that is the simplest version of how I understand it.  All I know is after the crash the bomb broke apart but didn’t detonate.  The second stage was recovered, but the first stage was believed to be at the bottom of the ocean.  After your friend, Dr. Stanwick, got those readings about alpha radiation, we realized the first stage wasn’t where anyone thought it would be.”

“So these men were going after the first stage, and if I understand you correctly, it contains uranium,” I surmised.

“That is what we now believe.  It’s a small amount, but it is highly enriched uranium,” Browning added.

“But what could they really do with it?” Galveston asked skeptically.

“It could be used for a conventional fission bomb, for one.  But we have a theory that the people involved are planning to sell it on the black market.”

I sat stunned at the statement.  We had located and infiltrated an operation to find highly enriched uranium.  Only a few countries in the world were able to produce it, and it had the potential to be made into a simple nuclear device, or worse, a bomb.  It made my skin crawl, but I was also proud that we were the ones to find them.

By this time, Alexander Mayfield was beside himself.  He gave out a series of grunts and groans that Browning skillfully ignored.  I found the behavior odd.  Why would he care that much about Browning telling us this information?  We had already come up with the theory of what these men were after.  Browning’s information just validated our beliefs.  I couldn’t wait to ask
Galveston the story behind this man.

“What now, then?”
Galveston asked Browning.

“I’ll get you and Mr. Murphy, along with Dr. Stanwick and his assistant, on the next government flight to
London.  From there you can go home.”

“I can go along with that,” I announced quickly.

“How are you going to find these gunmen?”  Galveston asked, not wanting the matter to end.

“We’ll find them.  We have a couple of good leads.  That is why Agent Mayfield is here.  He’s supposed to be tracking them,” Browning said sarcastically.

“And we are tracking them.  They don’t need any more information.  I don’t want my operation compromised because of these two,” Mayfield demanded.

“
See, I was right.  You’re still an ass, Alexander,” Galveston shot back.  These two would not be buddies any time soon.

Mayfield stared at
Galveston with fire in his eyes.  “Go on back to your little detective agency.  Let the real investigators handle it from here.”

Galveston
looked like he was ready to jump up and beat him to a bloody pulp, but he didn’t, and I was surprised at his restraint.  Galveston knew he had goaded the man enough.  It was pointless to do any more.

Browning wiped his hand on his head.  I could tell he was just as sick of listening to Mayfield as we were.

“Thank you both for your help.  We never would have had these leads without you,” Browning told us politely, contradicting Mayfield’s assertion of us as “amateurs”.  “You can go back to the hotel with a couple of agents to gather your things.  The flight to London will leave within the hour.”

Several agents accompanied us back to the hotel.  Sally and Joe were already gone.  I hoped they were safe and in generally good spirits.  I assumed the other agents had questioned them about our activities to determine if our stories corresponded with each other.

My head had cleared from my light drinking, and I began to realize the stupidity of my actions toward the agents outside the pub.  Taking on two armed men that were highly trained with two more behind them was not a good move.  I’m just glad it turned out the way it did.

We were exhausted, and I was ready to return home, which was now in
Nashville.  The case was over in my book.  There was nothing more to do.  The CIA was investigating and Joe would be able to return to his research at a later date.  That was the initial goal, and it had been achieved.  I wanted to set up the new office and see Jane.  We had some catching up to do.

I still wanted to know about
Galveston’s relationship to Mayfield, but I felt discussing it with him on the plane was the best option.  For now we needed to pack.

After retrieving our things, the agents drove us to the
Reykjavik Airport, and we boarded a government Gulfstream jet for the flight to London Heathrow.  Several agents were relocating to the city with us, including Browning and Mayfield.  Galveston chose a seat as far away as possible from the irritating man, Mayfield.

Galveston
immediately noticed Sally coming down the aisle and stood up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and motioned for her to sit in the seat in front of him.  “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Sally sighed and brushed the hair from her face.  “No, and we’re fine, but Uncle Joe is a little freaked out.”

Galveston
didn’t offer consolation to Joe, and instead helped Sally into her seat.

“You okay, Joe,” I asked, since
Galveston was busy tending to Sally’s needs.

“Yeah, I think.  They just asked us some questions and took us to the hotel.  They didn’t say when we would get to see you again.  It was all rather surreal.”

“Well, it’s all over now.  We can get you back to your job,” I said, and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Galveston
continued to talk to Sally, and I was getting the feeling that his emotions were no longer purely of concern.  I think Galveston was becoming fond of her.

Galveston
and I settled in our seats for the short flight, and Joe and Sally fell asleep before we had left the ground.    I decided this was the best time to get answers as to why Galveston disliked Mayfield so fiercely.

“I won’t beat around the bush.  What is the story with you and Mayfield?” I asked.

“Ugh.  That guy is a moron.  I can’t stand him,” he replied, but didn’t answer my question.

“Why?” I pressed.

“I met him back in my days with the Diplomatic Security Service.  I couldn’t stand him the first time I met him.  He was just as pompous then as he is now.  After I retired, I was recruited by the CIA.  It was simply just an inquiry, and I wasn’t even interested in joining the agency.  This guy informed all the companies that I was working with at the time that I was joining the CIA, and they should get me off the payroll as soon as possible.  I lost six months of work because of it.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You heard him.  We’re a bunch of amateurs.  That’s why he didn’t want me involved.  People around him kept telling me he did it because he wasn’t going to work with some rookie.  I hadn’t even been formally offered the job, nor was I going to take it, specifically because of people like him.”

“Were you going to be working with him?” I asked, trying to understand something so trivial.

“No, I doubt it,” Galveston paused.  “It was a weird situation.  It didn’t make sense at the time, and it still doesn’t make any sense.  He’s a strange guy.”