The Roswell Conspiracy (20 page)

“He’s helping search the wreckage.”

As he spoke, an ambulance hurtled out of the front gate, followed by a car with Morgan driving. She pulled to a stop next to them and got out. Grant hopped out of the passenger side.

“Did you find Vince?” Tyler said.

Grant nodded. “He was in the stairwell when the bomb went off. A concrete archway kept him from being completely crushed, but he broke both his legs and punctured a lung.”

“Mr. Westfield heard him before anyone else did,” Morgan said. That looked like the closest she’d get to saying thanks.

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen this kind of damage, so I just knew where to look.”

“The medics said he could be back in action in a few months.”

“That’s good to hear,” Tyler said. He introduced Morgan to Fay and Jess.

“The government again,” Fay said. “I knew they were behind this.”

“It’s all right, Fay,” Tyler said. “The US had nothing to do with the attack in New Zealand. Rogue Russian agents are responsible for all this.”

“Russians?” Fay said with awe. “That explains why the alien spoke to me in Russian.”

Tyler told Morgan about the translation of Fay’s phrase.

“Rapa Nui as in Easter Island?” Morgan said.

“Yes. And these two are going whether we want them to or not.”

“When?”

“As soon as possible,” Fay said. “Tyler’s right. You can’t stop us.”

Morgan pursed her lips as she thought for a minute. Finally, she said to Tyler, “Do you think more xenobium could be there?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“Is that how it’s pronounced?” Fay said. “What is xenobium?”

“That’s classified, ma’am. All I’m allowed to tell you is that the Secretary of the Air Force has received clearance from the President to declare this situation a national security matter. The information you have may be critical to keeping a dangerous item from being used as an instrument of terror.” Morgan took a breath. “I am authorized to use any and all means to bring this matter to a close, and since you are going anyway I’m requesting your help.”

“We don’t even know what all this is about,” Jess said.

“Dr. Locke does, but he’s bound by Executive Order 13292 from disclosing it, and I expect him to adhere to it. Therefore, I want him to accompany you.”

“Yeah, we’ve already decided on that. You know, we’re in Australia, so while we may choose to help you, we are under no obligation to.”

“Ms. McBride and Ms. Turia, I checked your status. You’re both dual citizens of New Zealand and the United States. I’d hope you’d have a sense of patriotism in the matter.”

Tyler put up his hand to stop Morgan. This kind of heavy-handed approach wouldn’t work, and she didn’t need to use it. “We’re all on board here, Agent Bell. Fay, Jess, I can tell you that whatever is on Rapa Nui may have global implications. If we don’t find out what’s there, millions of people may be at risk.”

Jess set her jaw, still miffed at being bossed around, but Fay nodded with satisfaction.

“If the US government wants to help me solve the Roswell mystery, then I’ll go along with it.”

“Okay,” Jess said to Tyler. “We’re trusting you.”

Tyler hoped he was doing the right thing including Fay and Jess and putting them in more danger, but he didn’t really have much choice. They were too involved to exclude now, and Fay could have information crucial to solving the riddle on the artifact.

“By the way,” Grant said, “I won’t be coming with you.”

“Why not?”

Grant tilted his head, a signal that he wanted to speak in private. He, Morgan, and Tyler took a few steps away from the Jeep.

“Morgan has a lead that the Killswitches may be in Sydney,” Grant said.

“After we sent Vince to the hospital, I searched Kessler’s office and found a burner cell phone,” she said. “Kessler didn’t know it, but all communication signals coming in and out of Pine Gap are intercepted and recorded. He called Colchev right after you blew up the truck bomb. Colchev instructed him to deliver the xenobium to a dead drop in Sydney tomorrow by midnight. It’s possible he’s unaware that Kessler was killed.”

“Do you know where the drop is supposed to take place?” Tyler asked.

“I went back to two Internet discussion board messages that we suspect were sent between Colchev and Kessler. One of the messages was posted under the false name George Hickson and mentioned a black box cheat code. It took only a simple Google search of “George Hickson” and “Sydney” to discover that there are two intersecting streets in Sydney named George and Hickson. There’s a black flower box on the corner sidewalk. It’s in a neighborhood called The Rocks near the opera house.”

“Because I saw Colchev’s men in the warehouse,” Grant said, “Morgan wants me to go with her to see if I can spot someone checking the drop spot.”

“If we can keep a lid on Kessler’s death, they won’t know he’s not coming. We might be able to stop this whole thing there.”

Tyler nodded. “That makes sense. But if they don’t show, they’re going to be looking for another source of xenobium.”

“That’s why you need to find it before they do,” Morgan said.

“Agent Bell,” Tyler said, “given all that’s happened, don’t you think some protection for us would be prudent?”

“It’s already been arranged. Four NSA agents from Pine Gap are going with you. They’ll be fully armed.”

“I don’t think Qantas will let them carry assault rifles on board.”

Morgan shook her head. “You’re taking our plane. The discussion forum message also hinted that July twenty-fifth was an important date, and Nadia Bedova seemed to confirm it. Whatever Colchev is planning will happen four days from now. That’s why we’ve got the C-17 on the runway fueled and ready to go. After it drops me and Westfield off in Sydney, it’s taking the three of you directly to Easter Island.”

R
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TWENTY-EIGHT

By eight a.m. Monday morning, Colchev’s men were almost finished repacking the two Killswitch weapons into their new containers. One was already closed up and would be shipped on a cargo flight from Sydney to Mexico City labeled as “computer parts”. The second would be coming with Colchev on a private jet supplied by a Russian oil tycoon. Compromising photos of the macho billionaire with some underage boys meant that Colchev could use the plane with no questions asked.

Before he let his men close up the second padded container they’d specially designed for the Killswitch, Colchev ran his fingers over the sleek copper casing. The weapon, four feet long and a foot in diameter, was tapered at both ends.

According to Kessler’s report, the Killswitch was an advanced version of an explosively pumped coaxial flux compression generator. Science had never been a strength of Colchev’s, so the description was gibberish to him. His understanding of its operation was that the plastic explosive inside the tube detonated the xenobium, causing the copper coils within to amplify the resulting gamma rays in a high-energy blast which would radiate out and interact with the earth’s magnetic field. The cascading effect of the magnetic flux would overload any electronic devices within its effective range.

At lower altitudes, the range was minimal, no more than a few dozen miles. But the effect was magnified at higher altitudes due to its closer proximity to the ionosphere. The higher Colchev could get it when it went off, the more damage it would cause.

Designed to account for the possibility that future sources might be discovered, the weapon allowed for any amount of xenobium up to five hundred grams to be inserted by unscrewing one end of the Killswitch. Sixteen metal teeth came together to clamp the material in place. The detonation was controlled with a digital display that had been fitted to the case. Once the security code was entered, the weapon was activated by setting the built-in timer.

Colchev shook his head in disgust. He had the weapon now, but Locke had destroyed his plans to get the xenobium. The purpose of the road-train bomb hadn’t only been to cover the theft of the Killswitch. Although it would have taken investigators time to ascertain that the weapon wasn’t in the wreckage, the theft would be revealed when the bodies of the security men and their truck were eventually found.

The true reason for the truck bomb had been to allow Kessler to smuggle out the xenobium. In the confusion following the explosion, Kessler was to replace the xenobium sample with an identically sized hunk of regular hafnium, which wasn’t radioactive or difficult to obtain. The two would be indistinguishable from each other except by testing for radiation emissions, and no one would think to do so for weeks. By that time Colchev’s mission would have been over.

Now, with no distraction to cover his theft, he gave Kessler only a ten percent chance of successfully getting out of Pine Gap with the xenobium. Unless Colchev found more xenobium, the Killswitch would be worthless.

He stood and nodded for Zotkin to close the container. Nisselovich and Oborski carried it out to the car, leaving Colchev and Zotkin alone.

Zotkin frowned, reflecting Colchev’s own concerns. “Do you think we should continue with the mission?”

Colchev couldn’t give any indication that his confidence in the mission might be faltering. “Of course we continue. We’ll never get another chance like this.”

“But we cannot complete our plan without the xenobium. What if Kessler can’t get it to us?”

“Then we find the other source.”

“You think it really exists?”

“The evidence from Ivan Dombrovski’s lab indicates there is more than enough for our purposes.”

Zotkin scratched his head. “Why not just take the weapon back to Moscow?”

“Because we are all now enemies of the state. The deaths of Nadia and her team assured that. We are fully committed to this mission, Dmitri. If we don’t succeed and show Moscow the true extent of our patriotism, there’s no going back.”

Zotkin hesitated, then nodded. “Of course you are right. How should we divide up?”

With four operatives lost in the last two days, Colchev was down to only eight men, including him and Zotkin. He thought for a moment about how to allocate his forces.

“Nisselovich and Oborski will take one weapon to Mexico as planned. Kiselow and Chopiak will accompany you and me to Rapa Nui. Buran and Vinski will stay in Sydney to see if Kessler made it. If he’s not at the dead drop by noon, they should head to Mexico.”

“Speaking of Mexico,” Zotkin said, “Andrew Hull was the one who gave us that contact.”

Colchev nodded. There was only one way Nadia Bedova could have tracked Colchev down as quickly as she did. He’d known Hull could be bought, but he hadn’t counted on Bedova meeting the price.

“I can’t have any more leaks,” Colchev said. “The Americans will find Hull soon, so we’ll have to pay a visit to our helpful arms dealer before we leave. You procured what I asked for?”

Zotkin nodded and went into the next room. He returned with a black case the size of a carry-on bag.

With reports of the truck-bomb explosion at Alice Springs all over the news, surely Hull would realize he was now a marked man, but even someone with his vast security measures could be dealt with by using the correct approach.

And Colchev had the perfect method. He flicked open the clasps on the case and smiled as he inventoried the pieces of the disassembled sniper rifle. Even from a distance of five hundred meters, Buran would not miss.

TWENTY-NINE

By the time the C-17 reached Easter Island, it was dusk. Despite Jess and Fay’s eagerness to get started, Tyler convinced them that the trek to the location on the map would have to wait until morning.

He had spent most of his waking time on the flight planning the security arrangements with the NSA operatives and the pilots, who never questioned the diversion from their planned paratrooper training op in Japan. In between catnaps Fay and Jess researched Rapa Nui history using a dozen books and articles they’d downloaded during the stopover in Sydney.

On arrival they quickly determined that there was no way Colchev had beaten them to the island. The tarmac of diminutive Mataveri Airport, the most remote commercial airport in the world, was devoid of aircraft. There were only a few scheduled flights per day, most of them from Santiago and Lima. Colchev couldn’t have made it all the way to South America and caught a flight to Easter Island in that time, and the airliner from Tahiti wasn’t scheduled to arrive for two more days. The only other way to the island was by private jet, and according to ground control, none had landed in weeks.

Still, because they believed Colchev had heard Fay’s Russian phrase, Tyler assumed he’d come to Easter Island eventually. Two of the NSA operatives would stay behind with the three C-17 crew members to keep an eye out for him while the other two would accompany Tyler, Jess, and Fay in their search of the island. Formed by an extinct volcano, Easter Island measured only fifteen miles across at its widest point, and the airport was not much more than a two-mile-long landing strip next to Hanga Roa, the town where virtually all of the five thousand inhabitants lived.

The Air Force and NSA men opted to stay with the plane for the night and take shifts sleeping on the crew bunks inside. When he was in his twenties, Tyler would have thought nothing of stretching out on the plane’s spartan accommodations, but now that he was in his thirties, he’d gotten used to a bit more comfort. Besides, Fay and Jess wanted to stay at a hotel, so they found two rooms at the Tupa Hotel near the main street.

After settling in, Tyler suggested that the three of them get some dinner, but Fay, who had snacked on the plane, said she was too tired for dinner and retired early. That left Tyler and Jess to find a restaurant by themselves, alone together for the first time since New Zealand.

They chose a place called Au Bout du Monde that was popular with tourists who came to gawk at the island’s incredible Moai statues. It was winter on the subtropical island, so half the tables were empty.