Sherry finally shifted her gaze away from her husband, to focus on his chief of staff. “Bell probably believes he should be running for president instead of David, too. But that will never happen because David has the one thing that Larry Bell will never have.”
Lev blinked. “Actually David has three things, or did you forget our campaign slogan? Competence, charisma, and experience…”
Sherry smirked. David Palmer possesses all those qualities, it’s true, she thought. But he’s only going to be President for one reason. Because he has me.
CTU Agent Tony Almeida entered the hangar through a little used side door, pausing for a moment so his eyes could adjust to the building’s dim interior. Outside, in the desert’s afternoon glare, most members of Dr. Reed’s research team were running diagnostic tests on the massive sensor array. By now, the apparatus was sitting on top of the tower, and the huge crane that had hoisted it here had crawled back to its holding area on clanking steel tracks.
After Tony finished running his own diagnostics— on the shielded generator unit that would power the microwave emitting device — he noticed the entire team wasn’t present. Slipping away, he headed back to Hangar Six to track down the missing person.
Tony circled the building, moving off the pavement into the soft sand. With each step of his steel-toed work boot he kicked up red brown desert dust. No one had used this path for some time. Tony knew because some sign of foot tracks would have been visible, and there was nothing in the sand beyond the swirling tracks of a long-gone rattlesnake.
Near the rear of the structure, Tony climbed three steel steps that led to the side door. He knew the door was unlocked — Tony had made sure of that before the researcher team even rolled out of the hangar. Now he entered a darkened storage area just off the main floor of the hangar, well out of sight of anyone inside.
With the overhead lights powered down, what little illumination came through grimy windows set high in the walls. Most of the high-roofed interior was shrouded in shadows. When his eyes finally got used to the gloom, Tony cautiously stepped around a pile of empty wooden packing crates which formed a makeshift wall.
Suddenly he froze. A hushed voice was speaking in an urgent tone.
“I told you I can’t come now… The project is on a lock down, that’s why… That means nobody can leave, no matter what… I’m stuck here until the demonstration is over.”
Though the echoing interior of the hangar distorted some of the words, Tony recognized the speaker at once. He was the missing scientist, Dr. Steve Sable. Tony trailed the sound, moving quietly from one dark patch to another, carefully approaching the caller.
“Look, I’ll try to get there soon, but I can’t promise anything,” Sable said. “I—”
The man’s excuses were cut short by the person on the other end of the line. Sable tried to stammer a few words in his own defense, but they were apparently ignored. Patiently following the sound, Tony finally located the cyber-engineer behind an idle tow tractor. Sable was there, leaning against a dented workbench covered with wires, chips and motherboards. His back to Tony, Sable was whispering into a slim silver cell phone.
The doctor had good reason to hide his activity in what he thought was a deserted hangar. Using a personal phone anywhere inside the confines of the Groom Lake Experimental facility was a flagrant violation of Air Force security protocols. At the very least, Sable could lose his clearance and face dismissal if he were caught in possession of a cell phone, even if he weren’t using it.
“Threats won’t help either of us,” Sable said with a hint of irritation. “I know how important this is.”
Tony couldn’t read the man’s expression because he faced Sable’s back. Risking discovery, Tony used the cover of packing crates and electronic gear to circle the man. All the while he strained to hear the voice on the other end of the line. Unfortunately, Tony was just too far away.
“Yeah, I know it’s a problem,” Sable said, his tone exasperated. “Money is always a problem, but the delay can’t be helped. I’m not dodging my responsibility. It’s just bad timing, that’s all.“
Suddenly another voice echoed inside the hangar. “Dr. Sable… Are you in here?”
Surprised by the call, Sable quickly slipped the phone into his lab coat and spun around — to come face-to-face with Tony.
“Jesus, Alvarez, you scared the hell out of me!” he cried.
Hearing their voices, the young airman standing near the hangar entrance called out again. Only then did Sable realize Tony’s wasn’t the voice he’d heard call out his name. A split second later it dawned on Sable that Tony had most likely seen the phone, and was maybe even eavesdropping on the conversation.
“Listen, Tony,” Sable said in a whispered hiss. “You won’t tell anybody about the cell, will you?”
Tony moved out of the shadows to face the man. Sable stepped closer, leaned into his ear.
“See, I got this girl in Vegas,” he said. “She’s a showgirl. A real hottie. But she kind of takes advantage, you know? This morning she totaled the tranny in her new Mercedes convertible and expects me to pay for a new one.”
Sable flashed Tony a conspiratorial wink. “’Course, I’ll ante up and she knows it. I mean, I’m not married, divorced, or responsible for any brats — that I know of, anyway. So what else am I gonna spend my money on, right?”
Abruptly, a young airman appeared between two mounds of electronic equipment. He halted in surprise when he saw them.
“Dr. Sable, Dr. Alvarez… Dr. Reed’s been asking for you,” he said.
“Yeah, well, Tony and I were just grabbing some cable,” Dr. Sable replied, tucking a coil of thick, insulated wire under his arm.
“That’s right,” grunted Tony, grabbing another bundle and looping it over his shoulder. “Some of those old generator wires are frayed. Better to replace them all.”
“Maybe I can help,” the airman offered. The earnest young man grabbed two coils, each representing several hundred feet of wire — more than they would ever need. Spinning on his polished heels, the airman headed back to the hangar door.
Sable grinned, shot Tony a conspiratorial wink. Then he dropped his own coil and, whistling tunelessly, followed the soldier to the exit.
Meanwhile, Tony shouldered his own burden, while he pondered how he was going to get hold of Sable’s cell phone in the next several hours, without the man knowing about it.
“This suite is certainly impressive.” Sherry Palmer ran her hand across the sleek steel frame of an ultramodern armchair.
Senator Palmer appraised the stark sandstone walls, glass partitions, black leather furnishings, and splashes of primary-colored pop art.
“It’s nice,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “But I still prefer the Venetian.”
Sherry crossed the floor and threw open the balcony’s glass doors. A blast of hot desert air filled the room — but only for a moment, until the suite’s computer brain increased the air conditioning by forty percent.
“Just think, David. The last time we were in Las Vegas this place hadn’t even been built yet.”
“Casinos grow like weeds out here.”
“You can’t deny the view is impressive. The hotel’s Hanging Gardens start right below us. I can smell the honeysuckle all the way up here…”
The senator had already removed his jacket. Now he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, loosened his tie, and placed his hands on his hips. “The view is magnificent, no doubt about it. From forty stories up, even Las Vegas is a handsome city…”