Kennedy, from CIA, leaned forward. “If I remember rightly from my inbriefing, there were other sites listed on the tablets that we never had a chance to look at.”
“Most of those sites were ancient ruins,” Quinn said quickly, “but the thing is, there are more high runes at those sites. Who knows what might be written there? We haven’t been able to decipher the writing. We do know that the Germans deciphered some of the high runes, but that was lost in World War II.”
“Lost to us,” Gullick amended. “And it’s not certain that the Germans were able to read the high runes. They might have been working off of a map like we did when we went down to Antarctica and picked up the other seven bouncers. Remember,” Gullick added, “that we just uncovered what was at Jamiltepec eight months ago.”
That caught Major Quinn’s attention. He had never heard of Jamiltepec or of a discovery having been made there related to the Majic-12 project. Now, though, was not the time to bring it up.
Kennedy leaned forward. “We do have to remember that the Russians picked up quite a bit of information at the end of World War II. After all, they had a chance to go through all the records in Berlin. They also knew what they were doing when they conquered Germany. If people only knew the fight that went on over the scientific corpse of the Third Reich between us and the Russians.”
The last comment earned the CIA representative a hard look from General Gullick, and Kennedy quickly moved on.
“My point is,” Kennedy said quickly, “that maybe the Russians found their own technology in the form of these foo fighters. After all, we have no reports of Russian aircraft running into them during the war. And it is pretty suspicious that the Enola Gay was escorted on its way to Hiroshima. Truman did inform Stalin that the bomb was going to be dropped. Maybe they wanted to see what was going on and try to learn as much as they could about the bomb.”
“And remember, they put Sputnik up in 1957.” General Brown was caught up in Kennedy’s theory. “While we were dicking around with the bouncers and not pursuing our own space program as aggressively as we should have, maybe they were working on these foo fighters and reverse-engineering them with a bit more success than we had. Hell, those damn Sputniks looked like these foo fighters.”
Gullick turned to Kennedy. “Do you have any information that might be connected to this?”
Kennedy stroked his chin. “There’s several things that might be of significance. We know they have been carrying out secret test flights at their facility at Tyuratam in southern Siberia for decades, and we’ve never been able to penetrate the security there. They do everything at night and even with infrared overhead satellite imagery, we haven’t been able to figure out what they’ve got. So they could be flying foo fighters.”
“But these things went down into the Pacific,” General Brown noted.
“They could be launching and recovering off a submarine,” Admiral Coakley said. “Hell, their Delta-class subs are the largest submarines in the world. I’m sure they could have modified one to handle this sort of thing.”
“Any sign of Russian submarine activity from your people at the site?” General Gullick asked.
“Nothing so far. Last report I had was that our ships were in position and they were preparing to send a submersible down,” Coakley replied.
Major Quinn had to grip the edge of his computer to remind himself that he was awake. He couldn’t believe the way the men around the conference table were talking. It was as if they had all halved their IQ and added in a dose of paranoia.
Gullick turned his attention back to Kennedy and indicated for him to continue. “This might not have anything to do with this situation, but it’s the latest thing we’ve picked up,” Kennedy said. “We know the Russians are doing work with linking human brains directly into computer hardware. We don’t know where they got the technology for that. It’s way beyond anything worked on in the West. These foo fighters are obviously too small to carry a person, but perhaps the Russians might have put one of these biocomputers on board while using magnetic flight technology such as we have in the disks. Or they simply might be remotely controlled from a room such as we have here.”
“We’ve picked up no discernible broadcast link to the foo fighter,” Major Quinn said, trying to edge the discussion back to a commonsense footing. “Unless it was a very narrow-beam satellite laser link we would have caught it, and such a narrow beam would have been difficult to keep on the foo fighter, given its speed and how quickly it maneuvered.”
“Could Von Seeckt have been turned?” Gullick suddenly asked. “I know he’s been here from the very beginning, but remember where he came from. Maybe the Russians finally got to him, or maybe he’s been working for them all along.”
Kennedy frowned. “I doubt that. We’ve had the tightest security on all Majic12 personnel.”
“Well, what about this Turcotte fellow or this female reporter? Could either of them be working for the other side?”
Quinn started, remembering the intercept of Duncan’s message to the White House chief of staff. Gullick mustn’t have gotten to it yet. Again, he decided to keep his peace, this time to avoid an ass-chewing.
“I have my people checking on it,” Kennedy said. “Nothing has turned up so far.”
“Let’s see what Admiral Coakley finds us in the Pacific. Maybe that will solve this mystery,” Gullick said. “For now, our priorities are sterilizing the crash site at White Sands and continuing our countdown for the mothership.”
Major Quinn had been working at his computer, reading data from the various components of the project spread out across the United States and the globe. He was relieved when information began scrolling up. “Sir, we’ve got some news on Von Seeckt.”
Gullick gestured for him to continue.
“Surveillance in Phoenix has picked up Von Seeckt, Turcotte, and this female reporter, Reynolds.”
“Phoenix?” Gullick asked.
“Yes, sir. I ordered surveillance on the apartment of the reporter who tried to infiltrate the other night once I found out that Reynolds was asking about him. The surveillance just settled in place this evening and they’ve spotted all three targets at the apartment and are requesting further instructions.”
“Have them pick up all three and take them to Dulce,” Gullick ordered.
Quinn paused in sending the order. “There’s something else, sir. The men we sent to check out Von Seeckt’s quarters have found a message on his answering service that might be important. It was from a Professor Nabinger.”
“What was the message?” General Gullick asked.
Quinn read from the screen. “‘Professor Von Seeckt, my name is Peter Nabinger. I work with the Egyptology Department at the Brooklyn Museum. I would like to talk to you about the Great Pyramid, which I believe we have a mutual interest in. I just deciphered some of the writing in the lower chamber, which I believe you visited once upon a time, and it says: ‘Power, sun. Forbidden. Home place, chariot, never again. Death to all living things.’ Perhaps you could help shed some light on my translation. Leave me a message how I can get hold of you at my voice-mail box. My number is 212-555-1474.’”
“If this Nabinger knows about Von Seeckt and the pyramid—” began Kennedy, but a wave of Gullick’s hand stopped him.
“I agree that is dangerous”—Gullick was excited—“but of more importance is the fact that it seems Nabinger can decipher the high runes. If he can do that, then maybe we can…” Gullick paused. “Did our people check to see if Von Seeckt has contacted Nabinger?”
Quinn nodded. “Yes, sir. Von Seeckt called Nabinger’s service at eight twenty-six and left a message giving a location for them to meet tomorrow, or actually this morning,” he amended, looking at the digital clock on the wall.