André Vogel came up through the ranks of the NSA, starting out as a computer analyst, eventually moving into the field and finally earning the powerful role of NSA director. Vogel answered to only one person: the Secretary of Defense.
"You've got a lot of balls calling me, Meyers,” Vogel said. “But then you always did have balls. Since this is the only chance you're going to get, go ahead."
"I've found something that will make your career."
"And that is?"
"I'm afraid it's not that easy, André,” Kayla said, trying hard to keep her tone respectful. “There are conditions."
"Well, give me an idea of what this wondrous piece of information is and we'll haggle over a price,” Vogel said. “I can't believe you wouldn't go through normal freelance channels on this."
"It's not about the Middle East or any of that penny-ante bullshit. This is the biggest thing you've ever heard of."
"And what's this going to cost me? Your usual price?"
"It's different now,” Kayla said smoothly. “This is big, beyond anything we've seen before. This time it's more than money."
"Oh, sounds like something juicy. Get to the point, Meyers, you're wasting my time. What's your damn price?"
"The price is, I want back in."
"Back in what?"
Kayla looked at the handset as if it were stupid. She put the handset back to her ear and took a deep breath, internally counting to ten. “I want my life back. I want to be reinstated to the NSA."
Vogel's laugh sounded loud, harsh and sharp; the laugh of the in-crowd ridiculing an outsider. “You've got to be kidding me! You're a psycho. I saw what you did to those children, remember? You're lucky I got them to let you go instead of doing away with you permanently. The NSA will never let you back in. I don't care if you have blackmail pictures of the President buggering a sheep."
Kayla fought back her rising anger. “Hear me out. I've discovered a new species."
Vogel made no comment for a few seconds, then said, “A new species of what?"
"I don't know,” Kayla said. “It's something no one has ever seen before. This species is intelligent, as smart as man, and very dangerous."
"You're shitting me. You've found another intelligent species? What, like a monkey or something?"
"No, nothing like that. It's completely different. I told you, as smart as man. No one has ever seen anything like it. It's dangerous, definitely a threat to national security and the lives of Americans. It's the Holy Grail for you, André, something you can take straight to the Secretary of Defense and the President himself."
Another brief pause. “Tell me more, Kayla.” She heard a difference in his voice. The dismissive, insulting tone had vanished, replaced by the tone of a man hungry for power.
"No,” Kayla said. “Nothing more. You know damn well I wouldn't come to you with this unless it was the real deal. Do you believe that?"
"Yes,” Vogel said. “Yes, I believe you."
"Good. I'm telling you this is the find you've always wanted. And to get it, to be the man who brings it to the president, I need a full reinstatement. You wipe my record clean. I want it on paper, and I want it ironclad. Once I have that, and I've put copies in the right places in case you go back on your word or in case anything unfortunate happens to me, I'll give you all the location and all the information I have."
"You show me one of your new species and you've got a deal."
Kayla started to speak, then stopped, the words dying on her tongue. André wanted proof. But the adit and the elevator shaft were sealed up with millions of pounds of rock. She'd already checked the camp's ruins, and found no trace of the creatures.
The COMSEC unit's soft beep drew her attention. It had just completed its periodic frequency sweep and isolated a clear transmission signal. She stared blankly at the unit, checking the readout and not believing what she saw.
"Well?” Vogel said. “What's the matter, Kayla? You can't get me proof?"
"I'll get you your evidence, but we're running out of time. You get those reinstatement papers drawn up and be ready to move when and where I tell you."
"Kayla, you have—"
She broke the connection, roughly throwing the handset down and pouncing on the COMSEC unit like a predator. She checked the readout.
"Angus, you little prick,” she whispered in a voice thick with malice and murder. “You dirty, little motherfuckers."
She rummaged through her gear bag and found the portable SIGINT unit. She picked up the H&K and stomped off toward the camp's ruins, a scowl emblazoned on her hateful face.
O'Doyle allowed himself a brief rest and pondered their tactical situation. It wasn't good. He'd taken a look over the cliff's edge and found Connell's assessment correct; it would take an experienced climber forty minutes to descend that face. Inexperienced climbers could probably make the trip much faster, but be a bit worse for the wear after they hit the ground at terminal velocity. Dr. Reeves had climbing experience and said she could take the cliff face with ease. Dr. Haak also had experience, but hadn't done any climbing in twenty years.
O'Doyle looked up as Mack walked toward him, moving slowly like a rickety, fragile old man. “How you feeling, Mack?"
"It's not so bad. The look on his face clearly showed the lie. “I'm… I'm sorry about what happened at the river."
"Don't sweat it. We all made it across and that's what counts."
"Still, I feel like I let everyone down. I know I'm not in good shape right now, but what can I do to help?"
O'Doyle thought for a moment. He didn't want to give Mack any serious responsibility, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give him a firearm, not in his condition. He could barely walk on his own. “It would help if you went over and kept watch down the tunnel. We can't afford to let anything sneak up on us."
The Aussie nodded gently. “Sure thing, mate.” He walked — slowly — to the funnel.
Mack was in no condition to climb. He'd have to be lowered down, and they didn't have that much rope. Mack wasn't the only one having trouble. O'Doyle looked at Connell, who sat slumped against the wall. Back in camp, O'Doyle would have never guessed his boss to be so damn tough. Connell had stood tall and fired away at the rocktopi despite a complete lack of training or combat experience. Judging from the way Connell walked, his knee hurt pretty bad and he'd probably slipped a disk or pulled some back muscles. O'Doyle knew the last injury came during the river crossing; without Connell's effort, O'Doyle would have been swept down stream and drowned.
On top of adversity posed by the cliff, O'Doyle didn't like the cave mouth in which they now sat. It provided an excellent position against the rocktopi's forward assault, conveniently funneling them into one tight ball to be mowed down by concentrated fire. But by the same token, it trapped O'Doyle and the others at one end with nowhere to run should the creatures attack again. And there were cracks in the walls. Big cracks. Too small for a person to fit, but maybe big enough for a boneless adult rocktopi to squeeze through.
Last on the hit parade of fun facts was their ammo situation. Connell was completely out. O'Doyle was shocked when he checked Connell's ammo and found a single bullet in his H&K. Lybrand had ten rounds left in hers. They had eight rounds between the two Berettas. They'd never stop another rocktopi assault — if the flashing creatures came again, it would end in hand-to-hand combat.