The Roswell Conspiracy (22 page)

“You were a pilot?”

She sighed, as if she were sorry she’d brought it up. “F-16.”

Fighter jockey. Grant was impressed. “Then what are you doing in the OSI? You get drummed out of the service?”

“I still hold a rank of captain in the reserves, Sergeant.”

“I’m not in the reserves, so you can just call me Grant. Although I like the way you say ‘sergeant’. Very authoritative.”

She ignored him and took her clothes into the bathroom. When she came out, she was dressed in her suit again. Disappointing.

She picked up the second pair of binoculars and peered at the street.

After a few minutes of silence, Grant sat back in his chair, thinking to himself how boring stakeouts were. Well, that was easily rectified.

“So what happened?” he asked Morgan. “Did you sleep with a colonel and his wife found out and they bumped you down to investigator?”

“None of your business.”

“Come on, Morgan. Lighten up. We’re going to be here for a long time. And don’t forget I saved your life yesterday. Might as well tell me your story.”

Another sigh. “If I tell you, will you shut up?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine. It happened when I was stationed in South Carolina at Shaw. I had an old Corvette—”

“Sexy.”

“Do you want to hear the story?”

“Sorry. Continue.”

“It was late one night. I was on my way back from leave at my grandparents’ house in Atlanta when a deer jumped onto the road. I missed it but lost control and spun off the road into a tree. They tell me I hit my head on the steering wheel and blacked out. Because it was down in a ravine, I was unconscious for an hour before someone spotted the skid marks and found me.”

“You look fine to me. And I mean that in the health sense.”

“I was in the hospital for a couple of days with two broken ribs and a concussion.”

“Then what happened?”

“I was cleared to fly the next month, but when I was up in the air and performed some routine maneuvers, I got severely dizzy. I tried to shake it off, but on landing I nearly ran off the runway. When I got out of the plane, I tossed my cookies all over the tarmac.”

“Because of your head trauma?”

Morgan nodded but didn’t look at him. “A rare form of benign paroxysmal positional vertigo. In my case it only shows up under high-g maneuvers. The doctors tried everything, but they couldn’t find the source. MRIs. Exploratory surgery. Even did tests inside a centrifuge at Brooks. Nothing worked. After a year of not flying, my career was stalled, so I asked for a discharge. Since I majored in criminology in college, I applied to the OSI. Been there five years. Now you know the story.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your flying status. I just dabble. Got my helo license a few years back. But Tyler’s logged a couple thousand hours in jets. I know he’d be crushed if he could never fly again.”

“There’s nothing I can do about it, so there’s no sense dwelling on it.”

Morgan went to her bag and pulled out two pairs of night-vision goggles. She handed a set to Grant. He recognized them as thermal imagers, but they seemed to have been modified.

“You really think we’ll need those with all the streetlights?”

From her coat she removed a vial of what looked like gray dust. She took off the cap and dipped the tip of her pinkie into it.

She nodded to his goggles. “Take a look.”

Grant donned them and flipped the switch. Most of the room was a cold green, and Morgan glowed yellow. The end of her pinkie, though, was covered with bright red crosshairs.

“What’s going on here? I thought I knew all the latest toys.” He reached out to touch her finger. He just barely brushed against it, and when he withdrew his index finger, it too had red crosshairs on it.

“This technology is still classified top secret, so you can’t discuss it with anyone else.”

He removed the goggles and looked at his finger. The dust was now invisible.

“Is this ID dust?” He’d heard about it, but he thought it was still in the testing phase.

“Yes. Because we suspected a leak, we didn’t tell the team that we coated the inside of the Killswitch containers with tracking dust. Pine Gap internal sensors are configured to identify the RF signature of the dust. We were planning to see if any unauthorized personnel were accessing the containers. Anyone handling the open container would have been tagged with the ID dust.”

“So why didn’t you track it?”

“The range is limited. No more than a few hundred yards. These goggles are tuned to sense it. If someone walking by down there has it on his hands, we’ll see it.”

“What if they wash their hands?”

“The nanoparticles are so small that they embed themselves in skin and clothes. It would be like trying to wash off the markings of a Sharpie. Because it transmits a radio-frequency ID, the signal is even visible through walls and thin metal casings.”

Grant wiped his finger on his clothes, but all it did was transfer a few of the particles. “Is it safe?”

“It’s not FDA approved, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried.” But he couldn’t shake the sensation that the motes were pricking his finger.

“Just keep an eye on the street. Our target may not have handled the Killswitch crate, so we need you to identify anyone who might be one of Colchev’s operatives.”

“Got it.”

He took off the goggles and scanned the street with the binoculars.

After five minutes, he said, “You ever shoot anybody down?”

“I thought you were going to shut up.”

“I did. You are going to find out that five minutes of shut-up is a long time for me.”

Morgan ignored him, but he smiled when he heard the faintest sigh.

THIRTY-ONE

With a warm mug in her hand and the thick bathrobe wrapped around her, Jess sat on the balcony and watched the reflection of the dawning sun glitter on the Pacific. She sipped the coffee, and the caffeine jolt soothed her throbbing head.

The sliding glass door opened and Fay stepped to the railing, stretching her arms.

“What a beautiful sight. You were tossing and turning all night. Did you get any sleep?”

Jess stifled a yawn. “Some. How are you feeling?”

“Oh, nothing a few antacids couldn’t fix.” Fay sat in the other lounge chair. She stared at the sea for a minute before continuing tentatively. “Tyler’s the one that got away, isn’t he?”

Jess nodded. “I nearly didn’t come back to the room last night.”

“He’s interested in you. The eyes don’t lie.”

“A lack of passion was never our problem.”

“Then what was?” Fay swiveled in her chair. “Did he cheat on you in college?”

“Tyler? God, no. He’d be the last guy to do that.”

“Then what?”

“I was young. New to college. He wanted a commitment. I wanted to have fun. Maybe it was just bad timing.” Jess shook her head. “Tyler’s a good man. He deserves the truth about my situation, about Andy.”

“You’ll know when the time is right to tell him, dear. Just follow your heart.”

“My heart is saying I made a big mistake all those years ago. I know they say you shouldn’t go through life with regrets, but sometimes it’s hard not to.”

“The people who say that are sociopaths,” Fay said.

That surprised Jess. “You have regrets?”

“Too many to count.”

“Like what?”

“Smoking, for one. But we didn’t know any better.” Fay held out her hand, and Jess took it in her own. “Regrets will always be a part of you, Jessica. The mistake you shouldn’t make is letting those regrets keep you from enjoying the rest of your life.”

“I won’t.”

Fay smiled. “Me neither.”

Jess stood. “We’ve got a lot to do today. I’m going to take a shower.”

Thirty minutes later came a knock on the door. Jess watched as Fay answered and let Tyler in. His eyes were bloodshot and he hadn’t bothered to shave, but his windbreaker, T-shirt, and jeans didn’t look too rumpled.

He nodded at Jess, but spoke to both of them. “The NSA guys found a Suzuki four-by-four that’ll fit all of us. They’ll be here in few minutes. We’ll stop for supplies at the hardware store. I’d wear a jacket. It’ll be cool out there.”

Fay excused herself to change in the suite’s bedroom. The silence grew thick.

“Tyler, I’m sorry about last night.”

“No need to be. I must have gotten the signals wrong.”

“No. You didn’t. You know you didn’t.”

“I know,” he said. “I was just trying to make this a little less awkward.”

“I shouldn’t have broken up with you.”

“Well, now you’re making it more awkward. Besides, I broke up with you. Not to get into a pissing match about it.”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have broken up with me if I could have committed to you back then. I was stupid.”

“So we both agree on that,” Tyler said with a twinkle in his eye.

Jess couldn’t help but smile. “You are not making this any easier. I wanted to tell you—”

Tyler’s phone rang and he put up a finger. He looked at the display, then answered. “Hello … all right, we’ll be down in a minute,” he said and hung up.

As he pocketed the phone, Fay came back in. “Are they here?”

Jess sighed, realizing that she’d missed her opportunity. Turning to Fay, she asked, “Are you ready to do this?”

Fay beamed. “I’ve been ready since I was ten years old.”

* * *

The store had the caving equipment they needed: four flashlights, a couple of shovels, and a hundred meters of nylon rope. Jess was an experienced spelunker, so the idea of delving into a dark, creepy hole didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Tyler drove the Suzuki. Fay was in the passenger seat, and in the back Jess squeezed between two wiry security men, a blond kid in his twenties named Harris and a curly-haired guy called Polk who smelled like a locker room. Both were armed with silenced submachine guns. She thought the extra men were an unnecessary precaution, but Tyler had insisted.

It took only fifteen minutes to reach their destination four miles to the north. Once they left the paved road, the Suzuki bounced over the rough grassland toward the sea while Jess navigated. With the dry creek bed to their right, Tyler inched along to make sure they didn’t bog down in any unseen gullies.

Fifty yards from the cliff leading down to the Pacific, Tyler came to a stop, and they all climbed out. Far from any of the tourist spots, the area was deserted. Jess checked her cell phone and saw that it wasn’t getting a signal.

“Now what?” Tyler said.

“The map seems to indicate that whatever we’re looking for should be on the very edge of the island,” Fay said. “There’s probably a marker of some kind, possibly carved into a stone.”

“Let’s fan out. If you see anything unusual, give a shout.”

“Unusual like what?” Polk said.

“The Rapa Nui people were known for cave paintings and rock art,” Fay said. “Something like that might be what we’re looking for.”

Tyler devised a grid pattern for the search. They would space apart at five-yard intervals and walk parallel paths to make sure they didn’t miss anything, starting a hundred yards south of where the creek mouth met the cliff.

Jess chose the spot closest to the cliff face with Fay next to her. They methodically walked the route. Every few minutes someone would stop to check out something more closely, but it always turned out to be nothing.

The group slowed as they reached the dry creek bed’s mouth since that seemed to be the location of the dot on the map. They spent a half-hour meticulously combing the grass before Jess’s foot scraped across an abrasive flat surface. If she hadn’t been walking so deliberately, she would never have noticed the red stone almost completely buried in the soil. The eighteen-inch-wide slab looked nothing like the brown dirt surrounding it. She recognized it as scoria, the pumice-like rock that was used as a material for the gigantic hats adorning some of the Moai.

Jess called out, and everyone came running over to her find. Centuries of growth and accumulated earth had nearly covered the stone.

Tyler took one look at it and said, “That had to be placed there on purpose.”

Jess knelt and pulled the grass away. “Help me dig it out.”

Tyler went to the car to retrieve the shovels. After ten minutes of digging, they were able to see the carvings that adorned the sides of the circular slab.

A spider, a bird, a monkey, and a human figure. They were identical to the drawings on the engraving.

“Oh, my God,” Fay said, her hands trembling. “This is it!”

“Is that what the map was leading us to?” Jess said. “It doesn’t have any other drawings on it.”

“It must be a marker for something nearby.”

They fanned out to look again. Jess remembered her conversation with Tyler about the sea-side caves and walked to the part of the cliff closest to them, which was obscured by some low shrubbery. She pushed it aside and peered over the edge, where she saw a path carved into the cliff-side that was wide enough to accommodate an elephant. Without the marker, finding the path would have been pure chance in spite of its width.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Take a look at this.”

Everyone joined her at the edge.

Jess turned to Tyler. “Shall we see where this goes?”

“All right,” Tyler said. “Let’s get the rope and flashlights.” The three men returned to the vehicle.

“Nana, you should stay here.”

Fay looked at her as if she were insane. “That would be a big no.”

“We don’t know how safe that path is.”

“If you think I’m staying behind while you get to make the discovery of a lifetime, you don’t know your grandmother very well.”

“Then just let us scout it out first.”

“Absolutely not.” When Jess began to object again, Fay said, “Unless you plan to tie me up and lock me in the car, I’m going.”

Jess shook her head in defeat. “Okay. But I want you right behind me.”

“That’s my girl.”

Tyler and Polk returned with the equipment.

“I asked Harris to stay with the car in case anyone comes nosing around,” Tyler said, and led the way down the path, followed by Jess and Fay, with Polk bringing up the rear.