Raymond frowned. “Like who?”
“Any of them. And make sure you get Vlad’s number at the BOQ, too. Wake him up first if there’s an emergency. He’s much more likely to actually be able to do something about it.”
He nodded. “Your number’s safe with me.”
Glenda handed Luke his plate. “Several of the others are outside, if you want to join them.”
Luke nodded and went outside. Thud, Crumb, and Stamp were chuckling at one of the tables under an umbrella. They had finished their breakfasts and were leaning back in their chairs.
“Morning,” Luke said. He sat down at the table.
“Hey, boss,” Crumb said. The others greeted him quietly.
“What did you think of that mission-planning session with Khan and his boys yesterday?” Luke asked as he sat down.
Thud shook his head. “Bizarre. It was like we were planning an actual mission for him. I mean, hardened concrete targets, laser-guided bombs, no SAMS, some possible fighter defense? It sounded like an actual event to me. It was spooky.”
“I saw you give Stick that ‘dial it down’ signal, Thud,” Stamp commented.
“Absolutely. I’m giving this guy only C-plus or B-minus information. He’ll never learn all I know about fighters—”
Crumb laughed. “Shit, Thud. You don’t know anything about fighters! I could kick your ass with my visor taped over!”
“Except for Crumb,” Thud continued, “who is unbeatable and therefore would gain nothing from whatever I know, others, like Khan, I wouldn’t tell left from right. We just need to get him through the class and get him out of here.”
Luke nodded. “You know what I noticed?”
“What?” Crumb asked.
“One of his guys was writing down every word and copying our rough drawings of flight paths we did on the board.”
“I just don’t get it,” Thud said. “Hayes may be right. He get anything from his brother yet?”
“Nope.”
“You know, maybe we should take it up a notch. Maybe we should formally ask the CIA to look into them for us.”
Luke frowned. “And what would we tell the Undersecretary?”
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither.”
“More coffee?” Raymond asked as he brought the carafe to the table. He left the coffee and was about to turn and walk back inside when Crumb stopped him. “Hey, Raymond,” he said. Raymond looked at him. “I hear you been watching for aliens.”
Raymond frowned at Crumb. He was growing tired of constantly being belittled for his interest in UFOs. “Who told you that?”
“Word is you go out in the middle of the night and sit on the hills.” Crumb watched his face. “Is that true?”
“What if I do? Something wrong with that?”
“Depends.”
“Leave the poor man alone,” Thud said, taking a bite of his omelet. He felt responsible for Raymond and Glenda’s being there. Anything Raymond did that was odd reflected on him, he thought.
Crumb pressed right on. “And you use these huge binoculars.”
“Something illegal about that?”
“No,” Crumb said, controlling his mirth. “I’m just wondering if you’ve seen anything. Had any close encounters?”
Raymond assumed a tone of authority. “I’ve seen some curious things, but nothing I’m prepared to report on to you.”
“Well, shit, Raymond, how are we going to know all this good stuff if you won’t tell us?”
“Because you don’t believe anything I say about it. You think it’s a big joke.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“I can tell,” Raymond said, putting his hands on his hips. “Everybody thinks it’s all real funny.”
“Just tell me something that will convince me there are UFOs out there. Just one thing,” Crumb said.
Raymond thought about it. There were so many things he could tell. Finally he said, “All right. This here Area 51 that’s nearby. What goes on there?”
“Groom Lake? Beats the hell out of me. It’s run by the Air Force.” Crumb glanced at Luke. “You know?”
“No idea.”
“Well, Mr. Crummey,” Raymond said, “it’s where they keep all the evidence of aliens. They claim it’s related to the Air Force and keep it in ‘black programs’ and don’t tell anybody about it. And how about this, what about John Denver?”
“What about him?” Crumb asked, looking at Luke, who was equally perplexed about how John Denver might be related to black programs.
“You’ve heard of Roswell, New Mexico? The Roswell incident?”
“Sure. I saw Independence Day. Everybody knows about Roswell.”
“Yeah, well, John Denver wasn’t his real name. You know that?”
“What was his real name?”
“Schickelgruber.”
“No it wasn’t.” Crumb guffawed. “That was Hitler’s name!”
“Well, it was something like that. It wasn’t Denver.”
“It was Deutschendorf. So what?”
“So he was living his life in disguise. Then he suddenly has an airplane accident in the middle of the ocean and disappears.”
“And?” Stamp asked.
“Know where he was born?”
“No idea.”
“Roswell, New Mexico.” He beamed. “And, his father was in the Air Force.”
Luke fought back a laugh. “Well, there it is.”
Crumb just stared at Raymond. “Raymond, I had no damned idea.”
Raymond gained a look of vindication as he stood a little taller and adjusted his hat. “So I’m always on the lookout. And if I see anything, I will let you know.”
“Thanks a lot,” Crumb said, his sarcasm ringing in Raymond’s ears.
Raymond started to leave, then turned back after Crumb’s tone began to sink in. “You think you know so much.” He put the tray down on the table next to their plates and sat quickly in an empty chair, uninvited. He pulled a thick stack of folded papers out of his back pocket. “You have any idea how much money is spent on black programs?”
“What do black programs have to do with UFOs?” Luke asked.
“They’re called Special Access Programs. SAPS. Government won’t even tell you that they exist. There are over a hundred fifty of ’em. That includes the CIA, the Department of Energy, and the Department of Defense. Most people think they have to report to Congress at least. Not true.” Raymond grew more intense, speaking slowly. “The Secretary of Defense can waive the reporting requirement completely.” Raymond unfolded a piece of paper. “Listen to this. I want you to listen to this.” He read from the paper. “ ‘Some classified programs are carried out at Edwards North base, but the most secure and sensitive programs are the responsibility of an Air Force Flight Test Center detachment based at the secret flight test base on the edge of the Dry Groom Lake, Nevada, and known as Area 51.’ Listen to this here: ‘The USAF still refuses to identify the Area 51 base, referring to it only as an operating location near Groom Lake. It is protected from any further disclosure by an annually renewed presidential order.’ “ He looked up and whispered, “This goes as high as the President of the United States.”
“Shit, Raymond, you’re jumping to conclusions. Just ’cause the government won’t tell you what’s going on at Area 51, it must be UFOs? How do you figure that? Why not assume they’re building some superhypersonic fighter that hovers one foot off the ground, weighs fifty pounds, and carries the fastest missiles ever designed? Why assume it’s a bunch of green aliens?”
“We can’t believe a thing they say. Listen.” Raymond read on: “ ‘Area 51’s linkage to Edwards Air Force Base is a form of cover, and statements which are intended to conceal the existence of a black program by creating a false impression in public are routine.’ You hear that? The U.S. government is deceiving the public intentionally! We’re talking billions and billions of dollars that are unaccounted for!”