Freed fielded that question. “We have it from good sources that you went on a covert mission in that area during the Vietnam War.”
Dane put his finger on the map. “I don't even know for sure if that's where I was. The CIA ran that mission and I presume they’re still in the secret business. How do you know that’s where I was?”
“I have extensive contacts throughout the government,” Michelet said.
Dane wasn’t buying that. “The CIA wouldn't give up that information without a reason.”
“I have supplied them with data from my surveys in the past,” Michelet said, “so it’s not unusual for them to supply me with information in return.”
“That was a very long time ago,” Dane said. “No one's been in there since 1968?”
“There have been reports that some people have gone in there,” Beasley spoke up. “There was even a report that a Khmer Rouge battalion fleeing government forces retreated into this area. The battalion disappeared to the last man.”
That comment earned Beasley a nasty look from Michelet.
Dane sat back in his seat. “I still don't get it. Why me? You've got so many contacts and so much money, even if the Cambodians won't cooperate, why don't you just charter a plane with a whole bunch of rescue guys and go there yourself?”
“As I told you,” Michelet said, “you’ve been there. I don't believe in going in blind.”
“It's jungle,” Dane said. “Mountains, rivers. There's plenty of people who've been in that kind of terrain.”
“But not that specific area,” Michelet repeated.
“No one's been in there since the war?” Dane asked again, believing it, but not wanting to.
“No one we know of who has come back other than you,” Freed said. “We've done an exhaustive inquiry.”
“What's so special about that specific area?” Dane asked, thinking of the nightmares that woke him drenched with sweat in the middle of the night.
“We don't know,” Michelet acknowledged Beasley. “Mister Beasley is an expert in ancient cultures, with an emphasis on Cambodia, its history, its geography, its people. He says that area might once have been part of an ancient kingdom that had its capital at a place called Angkor Kol Ker, somewhere in those mountains.”
“What does that have to do with a plane crashing?” Dane demanded, but the words echoed through his brain. He could see Castle lying on the jungle floor and he remembered the CIA man muttering those words with his dying breath. Dane had done some checking over the years but all he had learned was that Angkor Kol Ker was a legendary city that historians and archeologists gave little credence to.
Beasley ran his fingers through his beard. “This area of Cambodia is very unusual. Air Force aircraft overflying it during the war on missions between Thailand and North Vietnam experienced numerous instrument difficulties. So much so that the Air Force specified routes to the north or south and put the airspace off limits. This was after two B-52s and a SR-71 spy plane disappeared without a trace over the area.”
Dane controlled his breathing. Foreman hadn't said anything about B-52s going down. Or the area being off-limits to overflights. But maybe Angkor Kol Ker was the name the Air Force and the CIA had used for that area, taking it from the legends, and that explained why Castle had whispered it. But Dane remembered the look on the dying man's face and knew there was something much more to all of this. There was also the last thing Castle had said: The Angkor Gate.
“I understand your team-RT Kansas-went in there looking for the SR-71 crash site,” Freed said.
Dane knew there was no point in playing dumb with these people. “That's what we were told.”
“Did you find it?”
“No.”
Beasley continued. “Since the end of the war, several other aircraft have been lost over the area. No trace of them has ever been found. A Royal Cambodian helicopter that was searching for a missing commercial plane also simply disappeared. Twice search teams were sent in and never returned. The Cambodian government has had much else to worry about for the past several decades and has adopted an informal but very strict quarantine of the area.”
“You can see my reluctance to send men in there without knowing what the exact situation is,” Michelet said.
“What makes you think I know what the situation is now?” Dane asked. “It's been thirty years.”
“You went in there and you came back out,” Freed said. “That makes you an expert.”
“Expert?” Dane shook his head.
“You are all we have,” Michelet said.
Dane laughed, but there was a nasty edge to it. “Then you’re screwed. I can’t tell you what’s going on in there now, but you want to know what the situation was? It was a whole 'nother world. It's like you aren't even in Cambodia anymore.” He met Michelet's eyes and locked into them. “There's monsters there. That's what the situation was and probably still is. Monsters you can't even begin to believe in your worst nightmares. And there's something more than monsters. Something even worse. Something intelligent and powerful. That's what wiped out my team. I don't know what's screwing with the planes, but it's monsters who are on the ground that are killing the search parties.” He shoved back his seat. “Can I go now?”
Chelsea was on her feat, whining. The other three men in the room were startled into silence.
Finally, Michelet spoke. “My daughter was on that plane and I need to know whether she's alive or dead.”
“Then I'll tell you,” Dane said. “She's dead. If she's lucky, she died quickly when the plane crashed.”
“You're alive!” Michelet threw back. “You went in there and came out. She can come out!”
Dane shook his head. There was no way he could make these people understand. Chelsea was moving around Dane in a circle, upset, her tail wagging wildly. She gave a low whine.
“Someone's alive there,” Freed said. He was looking at Michelet and Dane could read that look clearly: Freed did not want Dane involved and now his talk of monsters strengthened Freed’s position.
Dane's head swung to Freed. “How do you know someone's alive? I thought you said you haven't heard from the plane since it disappeared?”
“Just before she went down the Lady Gayle, that's the name of the plane, was forwarding everything its numerous data collectors were picking up to our IIC, imaging interpretation center, in the basement of this building.” Freed pushed a button on the table top in front of him. “They picked up an FM transmission from the ground just before we lost contact with them.”
There was a hiss of radio static, then a badly garbled voice spoke, the transmission very broken. “This… Romeo… Verify… Not. Kansas… more… Prairie… Repeat… Fire.”
“I understand the name of your reconnaissance team was Kansas,” Freed added unnecessarily.
Dane looked down at his hands. They were shaking. After all these years, it couldn't be. But that voice, it was Flaherty. There was no doubting it. “We're not in Kansas anymore,” Dane said quietly.
“Excuse me?” Freed was leaning forward.
“It was our verification to the SFOB, Special Forces Operating Base. To verify that it was indeed us and that we were in E & E mode.”
“E and E?” Beasley asked.
“Escape and evasion after a Prairie Fire was called.” Dane looked up. “But it can't be. That was so many years ago.”
“The message is less than two days old.”
Dane looked at Michelet. He could sense there was much the old man wasn't telling him but he could also sense that this radio transmission was real. He didn't know how that could be, but it was.