“I sure don’t.”
Karen took another bite of bagel. She looked tired. Morgan wondered how well she’d been sleeping.
“Stay here and get some rest,” he told her.
“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re about to head off into the enemy’s den without backup.”
“True, but you agree it’s best if I do this alone?”
“Of course. But you better keep that damn phone on vibrate.”
Morgan smiled. He could see that she was upset but strong nonetheless.
“Speaking of which,” he began, “there’s something I want you to know.”
Karen’s face paled, obviously expecting more unsettling news.
“I left the bank account numbers and passwords to my offshore accounts, should I not return. They’re in a lock-box upstairs in a safe in the floor under the throw rug. I left the combination in the top dresser drawer along with a key. After finishing with the combination, remember to use the key before opening it or everything inside will be destroyed.”
Karen stood up quickly. “That’s it. I’m coming with you.”
Morgan shook his head. “No you’re not. We’ve been over this and it’s better if I go alone. I’m only telling you about my accounts in the event this all goes bad. I have enough money to last you several lifetimes. Use it to disappear and pray those bastards never find that ship or you.”
Karen slumped back into her chair. “I can’t think about that. I’ve lost so much already. I couldn’t take it if I lost you, too.” Tears began to well in her eyes.
“I’m going to be fine. It’s just a reconnaissance mission, nothing more. They won’t even know I’m there.” He smiled. “And I don’t want to lose you either.”
Karen pulled away, wiping her tears, and smiled.
“You better be careful, Morgan Hughes.”
“I promise, I will. Now finish your breakfast and get some rest. I’ll be back soon. My cell number is programmed into your phone already.”
With that, Morgan left the house.
Chapter 35
Morgan hotwired a ’98 Chevy Camaro. Modern cars were a bitch to steal, making the Camaro an easy choice. The car was tattooed with rust spots, but rumbled to life immediately, and Morgan didn’t have to worry about a tracking system like those in newer vehicles.
The directions Karen accessed via the Murphy agent were spot on. The roads led through the back woodlands of the Kingston area. Pavement became dirt. A wake of dust trailed behind the car.
Morgan didn’t pass another vehicle after leaving the asphalt. One dirt road led to another until he came to Walter Road—the location of the base, according to the Murphy agent. He set the tripometer to zero, traveled another five miles, and came across the unmarked entrance to the Murphy compound.
It could hardly be called a road, resembling more of an old farmer’s trail with a line of grass growing down the middle. There were no deep or uneven ruts, potholes, or large crevices, indicating that the road was maintained, but camouflaged to appear like some backwoods path. Adding to the disguise were signs posted on both sides of the trail, warning that the property was private and trespassers would be subject to arrest.
Morgan turned the steering wheel and slowly drove the Camaro down the unmarked road for about a quarter mile before coming upon a bend. Leaving the car running, he exited the vehicle and raced into the surrounding forest. Working his way around the bend, he poked his head from behind a trunk, getting a clear view of the road that lay before him.
Far in the distance, beyond the sight of normal human vision, he saw that the road ended at a chain-link gate.
The gate stood ten feet in height and was crowned by a malevolent slinky of razor-wire along the top. Two guards dressed in camouflage brandished M-4 machine guns in front of the gate.
Morgan returned to the Camaro, slid the gear shift into reverse, and backed the car up and onto Walter Road. He drove the car a mile back the way he had originally come, finding a copse of thick foliage just off the road, where he hid the vehicle.
Now on foot, he headed back down the road, keeping an ear out for approaching vehicles. He reached the unmarked road that led to the compound and darted into the woods.
He moved quickly and quietly, not making any noise, like a hungry jungle cat stalking its prey. Within minutes he reached the base.
Morgan crouched at the tree line. An old red barn sat in the middle of an open meadow about the size of a football field. If it wasn’t for the ten foot high electric fence and armed guards around the property, no one would think the place was anything other than it appeared.
Along the top of the fence at intervals of about thirty feet, Morgan saw mounted cameras. Positioned at downward angles, the cameras pivoted slowly left and right, scanning the ground along the tree line. Morgan counted five guard towers within the fenced area: one near each corner of the property with the fifth at the top of the barn where the weathervane would be. The place was well protected.
There was no way he was getting inside during daylight hours. He would have to wait for the cover of darkness. Karen’s abilities would also come in handy, knowing if the guards were truly alert or just going through the motions. For now, he would sit, wait, and observe.
A few hours later and Morgan’s view remained unchanged except for the occasional guard moving about or bug flying past his face. Feeling well-hidden in the shadowy forest, Morgan sent Karen a text message, letting her know that he was okay and that he would text her again in a couple of hours. He told her not to call and to only text him in the event of an emergency.
Texting could prove dangerous enough, but making a call was out of the question. High-tech military telecommunication equipment could catch cell phone calls out of the air like a frog with flies. Text messages were a much more difficult form of communication to steal from the air waves. And unlike a verbal conversation, a text message was virtually silent communication, deaf to any sensitive listening devices.
Two more hours passed, and Morgan remained stationary, one more part of the forest. He could remain motionless for days if need be; boredom, however, unavoidable. Finally, after waiting for hours and seeing nothing of consequence, movement stirred.
Diesel powered big rigs rumbled in the distance. The growl of their engines grew louder, like an approaching storm, as they drew nearer. Peering through the trees, Morgan saw three large tanker trucks coming down the road. The vehicles were completely absent of any writing or identification, leaving Morgan to guess what was inside.
Two soldiers that had been standing guard approached the first truck. Six more armed guards came from the barn. After opening a door in the gate and coming through, they broke into groups of two, with each group approaching a different vehicle. After speaking with the drivers, they began inspecting the outside of the vehicles, using mirrors attached to long handles to view the undercarriage. The Murphy people took no chances.
When they finished, the six armed men returned to the compound’s grounds with the gate guards returning to their posts to either side of the entrance. The gate trundled open, and the lead truck drove onto the compound’s grounds. It pulled alongside the barn and stopped. The other two trucks waited to enter.
The driver for the lead truck exited the cab, pulled a hose from the side of the tanker and connected it to a port in the ground. He then pulled a lever on the side of the tanker.
Morgan guessed they were pumping fuel into the base. The scene looked identical to when fuel trucks pumped gasoline into the tanks at gas stations. A surly grin spread across his lips. He might not need to break in and spend time sneaking around. No, he had a better idea.
The Murphy compound was a self-contained unit. There were no wires running to the place, at least none that Morgan had noticed, keeping the base off the grid. The whole place was a giant generator, hence the reason for so much fuel. For The Murphy group to operate its labs, it would need a large supply of power, and that would draw attention. He and Karen would infiltrate the place, leveling it to the ground and creating such destruction that in no way could the Murphy people cover it up. Morgan grinned, his cheeks almost aching from delight.
Chapter 36
It was getting late, and dusk would soon cast its fingers over daylight. Karen sat on the couch, nervously rubbing her hands together. Morgan had sent her a text message three hours ago but nothing since. No longer able to sit still, she got up and paced the living room. She was hungry, but wouldn’t have been able to eat—even if there was actual food in Morgan’s house—until she knew he was all right.
“You need to stay calm, Karen,” she told herself, digging in her heels.
She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, supplying her red blood cells with as much oxygen as possible. All the worrying in the world wasn’t going to change a thing. Maybe some fresh air would. Her shoulders sagged. Going out was not a good idea. She walked over to the living room window and pushed the shade aside.
The day was still beautiful, picturesque, the sun low in the sky, about to disappear below the horizon, but she could still feel its warmth. She remained at the window for some time, letting her mind take her where her body could not. She counted six black birds in a small maple tree across the street. Then she waited for cars to drive by, trying to come up with a game she could play by herself. Seven vehicles passed by before she grew bored, realizing the time of games for her was ended. She watched an elderly couple stroll by, holding hands. Sighing, Karen was about to turn away, the view only making her want to leave the house more, when she spotted a teenage girl crying. She stared at her until remembering her abilities, and began reading her thoughts.
The girl was upset. Her boyfriend had dumped her. She kept repeating the same words over and over like a stuck recording. She was meticulous, replaying everything the boy had said to her. His name was Jimmy and he no longer liked her. He liked someone else. Suddenly the girl stopped crying and looked up as if someone had called her name. She began looking around, growing nervous, thinking someone was watching her. Karen broke contact and backed away from the window.
Karen felt ashamed for prying into an individual’s private thoughts. The weight of everything she’d been through played on her mind as if the box that held it all in had burst open.
She shuffled back to the couch. The scene with the crying girl had hit Karen hard, reminding her of how serious her own situation was. The abilities she had were dangerous, and in the hands of The Murphy Unit they would be devastating. Feeling a bit anxious again, she went back to taking deep, controlled breaths.
As bad as she felt for prying into the girl’s thoughts, she was glad to have done it. She had to test her abilities, find out what she was capable of and get control over them. She’d need them to fight the Murphy people. She’d need them to survive.
There was only one way to get better at something and that was to practice at it. Karen went to pick up her cell phone when it chimed. She had a new message from Morgan. He would be back in a few hours, maybe sooner. Perfect, just the amount of time she needed.
Chapter 37
Morgan sent a text message to Karen, letting her know he would be home within a few hours, but he sensed it could take longer. He hadn’t planned on staying so long at the compound; nearly the entire day. Karen must be starving, but the plan was not yet formulated.
An hour after sending the message, a car drove down the road to the facility. It stopped at the gate. The driver, male, spoke to one of the guards. He showed the guard an ID badge from around his neck before proceeding onto the property and disappearing into the barn, car and all.
Four more vehicles, all civilian in make and model, followed within a few minutes, repeating the same actions as the first car. Morgan made a mental note, remembering the last car’s license plate number, wishing he’d done the same for the previous ones.
Half an hour after the last vehicle entered the barn, all having arrived within a ten minute period of each other, four different vehicles exited the structure and drove away from the compound. Morgan looked at each license plate as the cars drove from the barn, burning them into his memory.
Feeling a tingle of joy in his stomach, Morgan grinned. Like all twenty-four hour businesses, the Murphy Unit had shifts.
Morgan decided to prolong his stay, continuing to observe. Half an hour after the last civilian car departed the property, the guards changed shifts, with new soldiers on duty. No vehicles came or went with the changing of the guards, indicating to Morgan that the soldiers remained on the premises. The base would have plenty of reinforcements and he had no idea how many there were, but things were becoming clearer.
Chapter 38
The diner was crowded. As soon as patrons left their seats, new customers filled them. Waitresses and waiters bustled down the aisles with trays of delicious-looking food before returning to the kitchen’s double swinging doors.
Karen sat in a booth by herself. Her waitress, Mary-Beth, brought her a cup of coffee and a well-done burger and fries.
“Anything else?” Mary-Beth asked.
“No, this looks great,” Karen said.
“Enjoy, I’ll be back to check on you in a few.” The woman turned quickly and began waiting on another table before Karen could even lay a finger on her food.
After gobbling down her burger and fries, consuming every last bite, Karen spent the next hour probing the room. The waitress came by twice, refilling her coffee and supplying more Half & Half.
Karen had circled the room, listening to everyone’s thoughts and growing tired, bored. Hearing people was easy now. She was able to focus in on one person without much bother from the surrounding masses. Occasionally what she labeled a “bleeder”—a non-targeted individual’s thoughts—crept into her mind, but for the most part she was able to block out all thoughts except for those she chose to probe.