“Since when have you given a damn about truth, justice, and the American way?”
“That is not my cause, this is true, but neither is it yours,” Schreiber replied. “You and I, we have one goaclass="underline" to discover the truth behind these Enhancements and, if possible, unlock the potential of this vortex to empower all peoples!”
And there goes another official protest off to Hilly, Danny thought. “That’s your fantasy, Doctor, not mine. Anything else?”
“Yes, Commander. When might we have a look at the other Variants?”
“That’s not your department, and you know it,” Danny replied. That was Hillenkoetter’s one sop to Danny when Schreiber was brought on board — he literally wasn’t allowed within a football field of any Variant at Area 51. At least, any Variant Hillenkoetter knew of. “We have others studying the Variants, and you’re getting the data. That’s all you’re cleared for.”
Schreiber opened his mouth to protest, then seemed to think better of it. “Very well, Commander. Is there anything else?”
Danny shook his head and waved his hand, then picked up a folder from his desk and started flipping through the papers. Schreiber hesitated a moment, then got up and left without further comment. Danny hoped the dismissive approach would remind Schreiber of his place — and, sure, just how far he’d fallen from the days when he could buddy up with Adolf Hitler. Answering to a junior officer had to rankle a bit. Danny hoped it did, at any rate.
Besides, Schreiber didn’t know that Danny himself, Subject-1, had already been in very close proximity to the vortex — had been regularly, in fact — with zero discernible effect for nearly three years. But Schreiber wasn’t cleared for Subject-1, and Danny was quite intent on keeping it that way.
Pulling his chair closer to his desk, Danny grabbed a piece of paper and rolled it into his typewriter. While it would probably feel really damn good to fire off another protest about Schreiber, it would end up being useless. But maybe — just maybe — there was a shot at keeping the Russian Variant from becoming another scientific guinea pig for an amoral German.
He was about three lines in when he saw Detlev Bronk at his door. “How is it that you’re always furiously typing up a new report every time you meet with Schreiber?” he asked mischievously.
Danny smiled and waved him in toward the chair recently occupied by the German. “Guess he motivates me to work harder. How’s it going?”
Bronk settled into the chair. He had traded his typical business suit for a short-sleeved linen shirt and golf pants, and looked for all the world like a Florida retiree rather than one of the nation’s foremost scientists. “Anderson is really whipping them into shape nicely. They might be ready to go in a couple months.”
Danny frowned. Much as he wanted to have Anderson reassigned, the Marine remained at Area 51 — probably under Forrestal’s direct orders. So, all Danny could do was to shunt him off to the training areas as much as possible and keep him out of security matters altogether. “Side effects?”
Bronk just shrugged. “Still there. Aside from Lodge and that mythical Subject-1, who you’re keeping hidden from everyone else here, everybody seems to have side effects. No getting around it.”
“I didn’t think there would be. Any other leads?”
“No. Seems to have quieted down. We finally have a network of detectors in place, in case the vortex decides to perk up again. We’ll be able to track it anywhere in the US or Canada, and certain places in Central and South America, too.” Bronk held up a hand as Danny was about to chime in. “And yes, you’re first on the call list when we get one.”
Danny smiled. Bronk was a good guy, probably the most forward and affable on the MAJESTIC-12 program. He so very much wanted to trust him with his reservations about Schreiber, or Forrestal for that matter. Or the real identity of Subject-1.
But he didn’t. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
21
I think there’s someone tailing us,” Frank said as he walked along Pennsylvania Avenue between the White House and Capitol building. “Here we go again.”
Next to him, dressed in a sharp navy skirt and jacket with a subdued, wide-brimmed hat, Maggie looked at her reflection in a store window — and used it to check behind her as well. “And here I thought we might get a day in town without a babysitter.”
The two were at liberty in Washington with very little to do other than wander. Both Cal and Ellis had been granted time with their families; Danny had arranged for relatives to come up to the nation’s capital for several days. He had offered to do the same for Frank, but Frank had just shrugged. He hadn’t been in touch with his family since just after the war, so a reunion would be… difficult, at best. And he knew his girl was long gone by now, probably married with kids. Things could change a lot in three years.
So, they went into town together — but not alone. Never alone. MAJESTIC-12 wanted to keep an eye on them, just in case they were put in danger. Or put others in danger.
“I see him,” Maggie said coolly. “Half a block back. Double-breasted suit, tie, kind of short and pudgy. Not really good at this, is he?”
Frank smirked. “Well, we’re the pros now, right?”
“Don’t know about you, but I did OK,” she teased. “What do you want to do?”
“Prank ’em again?” he asked with a smile.
A week ago, he had convinced Maggie to have some fun with their escorts. They’d grabbed a cab in Foggy Bottom with no warning, then switched to a bus a mile later that took them to Anacostia, and then turned right around and headed to Dupont Circle in another cab, where they waited at a café as no fewer than six agents finally showed up to stake out the perimeter, glowering at them. Frank thought it was a hoot. Maggie was less impressed but went along with it anyway.
“Nah, not today,” Maggie replied. “I want to go to a bar and get drunk, but it’s only 11 a.m. Little early for that. Let’s head over to the Capitol, have a seat on the steps, watch the world go by for a while… I’m getting a little tired of the games, frankly.”
Frank gave the man another surreptitious glance. “He doesn’t look like Secret Service. There’s something about him that’s different than the others. What if he’s a Russian?”
Maggie, placid as ever, simply shrugged. The threat of danger never seemed as real to her, Frank thought. “Then I guess it’ll get interesting,” was all she said.
With that, Maggie took Frank’s arm, and together, they strolled down the broad avenue without talking. That was one thing Frank liked about Maggie — she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with gabbing. He wasn’t even sure if she enjoyed his company or not — and frankly, he could say the same of hers — but they could at least coexist in the same space well enough. There were worse things. That said, he wished she’d be a little more animated. She seemed to be getting more distant with each passing day.
By the time they reached the shadow of the Capitol dome, they’d picked up two more tails, both of which they immediately pegged for Secret Service — cheap suits, bags under the eyes, and, most evidently, shoulder-holstered revolvers bulging out from their jackets. It had gotten to the point where they were starting to see familiar faces among their chaperones. At this point, they didn’t think Danny ordered the tails himself, but they also knew by now that he was pretty low on the MAJESTIC totem pole. The four Variants had batted around the idea of who was doing what and who was on their side, but all they really knew was that maybe some higher-ups liked them, and probably some really didn’t.