“Allow me to be blunt, Nancy,” I said. “If I were an odds-maker I’d peg your chances of survival at zero if you weren’t in the program. It hasn’t hit the news yet, but we’ve just learned that Frank Morgan, the CEO of Rosetta Corporation, died in a car accident. The police reported that the accident was suspicious.”
“Oh, my God,” Nancy said. “Frank Morgan was a good man. Have they picked a successor as CEO?”
“Yes, they have. A gentleman known as Philip Duncan, who is—or was—an old college buddy of mine. We’ll be talking about him at quite some length.”
“That slimy fuck,” Nancy said. “Pardon my Montana language.”
“Morgan’s car was sideswiped by a truck and smashed into a barrier,” I continued. “We’ve seen this maneuver before. It’s a long story, but that’s how the president and first lady met. As a lawyer, he represented his future wife in a wrongful death lawsuit for the death of her husband. He was killed in a sideswipe collision that was later discovered to be a murder. The case has become famous in law enforcement and intelligence communities as ‘The Sideswipe Conspiracy.’ That’s how I met them. As the head of the FBI Joint Terrorism Task Force at the time, it was my pleasure to introduce them to the FBI Witness Protection Program. They still speak warmly of the experience. I’m happy to say that I was there when they got married on their second day in the program. I understand that you two are planning to marry, so why not have your wedding reception in this beautiful house. Just don’t plan on too many guests. We’ll save you some time and choose the guests for you.”
“How long do you expect us to be in the program, Rick?” Bill asked.
“Can’t say. We’re starting to close in on what looks like a gigantic plot, and we’ll need you two to help us sort it out and to testify in court if necessary. We’d prefer to kill the bastards, but assuming the cases go to trial, you will earn your benefits of the Witness Protection Program. Hey, let’s have lunch and plan your wedding.”
“Something tells me that our wedding plans have been simplified,” Nancy said. “If I understand you correctly, you will pick the guests and we will agree. Or something like that.”
“Exactly like that,” Bellamy said. “My assistant, Sally Boynton, is an FBI agent. I’m sure she’ll be happy to serve as your Maid of Honor, Nancy. I’ll be honored to stand up as your Best Man, Bill. The person who will officiate is Father Walter Gentile, the Chaplain for Federal Plaza. He’s an FBI agent as well as an Episcopal priest. My wife, Ellen, is also on the list. Although it isn’t known publicly, she’s a deputy FBI agent. Ellen’s also my closest aide.”
“Ellen Bellamy, the TV star?” Bill said.
“The one and only.”
“You guys sound like you do this all the time,” Nancy said.
“You got that right, Nancy. The Federal Bureau of Investigation—your perfect wedding planners. We even have a designated shopper who will be here this afternoon to take your shopping list for your new clothes. So, when shall we hold your wedding?”
“How about this coming Saturday?” Nancy said as she looked at Bill.
I dialed a number on my phone.
“Hi Father Walt, Bellamy here. How about a wedding at location Xray Zulu this Saturday at two? Great. I’ll have a car pick you up.”
Nancy and Bill said nothing. They just stared at me.
“I wish we could wrap up investigations as efficiently as we do weddings,” I said. “Let’s have lunch. This afternoon you two will tell us everything you know about the new CEO of the Rosetta Corporation.”
Chapter 66
September 13
“Moonwalker, Moonwalker, this is Rosetta, come in please.”
“This is Moonwalker, read you loud and clear, Rosetta. Astronaut David Hardy speaking. With me is astronaut Tim Jordan. We’ve run all tests this morning and I report AOK. Moonwalker is now fully operational.
“David, this is Phil Duncan. Are you ready for a full satellite test run? I want you to take it slow because this will be the first test without input from the former Stargazer astronauts Mullin and Cranston. They had to go to New York. Something about Mullin’s grandmother being sick.”
“Phil, Tim Jordan and I heard a rumor that Cranston and Mullin killed our astronauts who were supposed to take over Stargazer.”
“Don’t pay attention to rumors that don’t concern you, David.”
“Yes, sir. We’re ready to start the tests.”
“Starting with satellite one, begin the full test of each orbiter.”
After they started the first satellite test, Hardy turned to Jordan.
“I could swear that I overheard Duncan himself say that Cranston and Mullin killed our guys.”
“Hey, Dave, you know how Duncan gets pissed off when people ask too many questions, not to mention Bartholomew. I suggest we do our jobs and keep our well-paid mouths shut.”
“Satellite tests are all positive, Rosetta. I’m commencing the solar panel tests.”
The solar panel tests took another five minutes each, adding 100 minutes for the entire operation.
“The panels on satellite three are not responding, Rosetta. They are going through rotation sequences on their own, as expected.” Hardy said.
“Attempt to use the override switch, David.”
“It doesn’t respond, Phil.”
“Yes, I can see,” Duncan said, smiling.
The mid-September temperature reading was 71 degrees Fahrenheit at the beginning of the test. It read 31 degrees by the end of the test. The clouds thickened, and snow flurries appeared.
The entire test operation was observed and recorded by a new satellite that had been launched by NASA two weeks before. Nancy and Bill Cranston, now married, sat in the mission control building at the Kennedy Space Center, taking a break from the FBI’s beautiful safe-house in New Jersey. I was with them.
“Right on cue,” Nancy said. “After the solar panels began rotating on satellite three, the panels on all of the satellites began to turn. We can see now that they are all angled toward the sun’s rays, reflecting them back into space. Look out the window. I’m guessing snow.”
“The temperature is 31 degrees and dropping,” Bill said, looking at the weather app on his smartphone, “and yes, it’s starting to snow. A beautiful September day here in Central Florida.”
“That nails it,” I said. “The new space station is Rosetta property and Nancy just called the shots as we saw them. Rosetta is the cause of our weather, and Philip Duncan is the prick behind it.”
“But who’s behind Duncan?” Bill Cranston asked.
“Bill, you’re one of us now, but you don’t have a ‘need to know’ the answer to your question at this time. You’ll find out soon enough. Pardon me. I have to step into the next room and make a call to the White House.”
“Mr. President, I’ve seen the smoking gun. Nancy Mullin walked us through what we were watching on the display for our new satellite. Of course, we couldn’t see the switches being thrown, but we saw the solar panels on all satellites rearrange themselves. The temperature here is below freezing and the snow is getting heavy. Philip Duncan was calling the shots from Rosetta headquarters. I have enough to arrest him right now.”
“Don’t even think about it, Rick. I know it’s tempting to nail a guy when you’ve got the evidence, but Duncan isn’t our target, as you well know. He’s just a functionary. Have you been briefed on the results of our operation in Kurdistan?”
“Yes, sir, I have. Bartholomew Martin obviously had a lot of warning before the attack. Do we know where they’ve moved?”