Adams considered the fact that he had further proof of that — the intercepted email, the attempt to force information from him — but decided to let her finish her own story before confirming her suspicions with a tale of his own.
‘The doctor agreed, even gave me some money to help me on my way. I was on the mainland by the next day, which is where I sent the message to you. I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t know who I could trust. I mean, it was the head of NASA I’d called with news of the discovery, so who else could I go to? Now maybe NASA are in on it, maybe not — maybe the message was intercepted, some other group got involved, who knows? Maybe the engineers weren’t even from the army. All I know is that someone wants to kill anyone who had any knowledge of that body.’
Lynn looked into Adams’ eyes and squeezed his hand tighter. ‘I didn’t even know if you’d believe it. I saw the news reports, how I’d been reported dead in the “accident”. I prayed that it would get to you, that you’d believe it. I couldn’t call, couldn’t risk the fact that they could trace it. I sent the email encoded, via a few cut-off routes to lose its origin. If you hadn’t turned up within the next few days, I would’ve tried to leave the country by myself. I still have my passport, but I don’t want to use it — I’m sure they’ll be looking for me at the airports.’
If four armed men hadn’t just tried to beat information about Lynn’s whereabouts out of him, Adams would have thought her paranoid. But it would certainly appear that there were people out to get her, and they had been able to intercept the email. He hoped that was as far as they had got.
Lynn looked up again into his eyes. ‘Do you believe me?’
He stared back at her, melting in the green limpid pools of her eyes. ‘I believe you.’ He held her tight, kissed her cheek. ‘I believe you.’
Stephen Jacobs poked at the logs burning in the vast fireplace, feeling rather than seeing when Commander Flynn Eldridge entered the living room.
Eldridge, a former commander of the US Navy’s SEAL Team Six, was now in charge of an even more clandestine group. Known as the Alpha Brigade, it operated out of the Nevada desert, on the direct orders of the organization headed by Stephen Jacobs. The group consisted purely of ex-military special forces operatives, pulled in from the SEALs, the Marine Force Recon, the Green Berets, the Delta Force, and from the Air Force Special Forces. They were a private army, not operating on government orders but able to exist above the law due to the protection given to them by Jacobs’ organization.
Eldridge loved every minute of it — no congressional oversight, nobody breathing down his neck, no ridiculously restrictive rules of engagement — and the only thing that mattered to Jacobs was results. Eldridge was therefore given carte blanche in his operations, as long as he got the job done, a fact that appealed immensely to his ruthless, aggressive nature. If he needed information from someone, he could torture them. If he needed to make a point for someone, he could execute the person next to them.
He was the king of his own little world, a world of hired mercenary killers, one which he dominated through sheer force of will. Sometimes he thought he was in danger of becoming like the US Army Special Forces men sent into the jungles of Laos and Cambodia to train up the guerrilla forces that ‘went native’ during the Vietnam War, men who were treated like gods by the tribal people, and who lost all sense of reality. But he always reigned himself back in when he felt it was getting to that stage — after all, he was a professional. Ruthless, fearsome, merciless, but a professional nevertheless.
But as he entered the large, mahogany-panelled living room of Jacobs’ vast mansion house on Washington’s Potomac River, Eldridge was all too aware of his recent failings. First, he had failed to make sure everyone aboard the helicopter was dead back in the Antarctic. Second, a team of his men had seriously underestimated the survivor’s ex-husband, Matt Adams. Now Adams was undoubtedly going to rendezvous with Edwards, and then — who knew?
‘Sir,’ Eldridge announced, standing to attention behind the old man.
Jacobs continued to prod the fire, causing embers to fall, to ignite the dead areas and feed the flames. ‘Good evening,’ he said eventually, without turning round. He continued to stoke the fire for a few more minutes, Eldridge growing more and more uncomfortable with every passing second.
Finally, Jacobs turned round and locked eyes with the special forces commander. ‘I am sure you understand how our organization responds to failure.’
Eldridge nodded, having executed several men himself who had been deemed to be unworthy of the group’s standards.
‘How secure are you feeling right now?’ Jacobs asked directly.
Eldridge adjusted his position uncomfortably. He was not used to being on the receiving end of threats. ‘I need another chance, sir,’ he answered. ‘I’ll get them.’
Jacobs smiled, reassured by the strength of Eldridge’s conviction. He wasn’t sure if it was the threat of execution or the thought of the coming reward if everything went according to plan that gave the big man such convincing self-belief. Either way, Jacobs believed him.
‘Good. The fact is, we need to find these two characters, and we need to find them fast.’
Eldridge nodded his head. ‘Do we have any leads?’
For the first time that night, Jacobs smiled. ‘As a matter of fact, we do.’
5
‘It’s so strange,’ Lynn said, holding a fresh cup of coffee in her hands.
‘What’s that?’ Adams asked, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. He had managed to sleep for a few hours on board the plane, before the nightmares woke him, but was now unable to do so again. And perversely, now his body had been rewarded with sleep, instead of being satiated, it just craved even more.
‘The other helicopter,’ Lynn answered straight away. ‘I’ve been checking a few things out since I’ve been here, and it just seems to have vanished — no flight plans filed, no record of a take-off, no record of it ever having landed. Maybe I’m just looking in the wrong places, but it seems to have never even existed.’
‘Sounds military,’ Adams said, thinking about the recent visit to his house by what seemed to be government agents. ‘Probably linked to the intelligence services.’
Lynn nodded her head. ‘That’s what I thought,’ she continued. ‘But why? I mean, why would they be doing it?’
‘I guess the reason they’d give would be national security, but who really knows? It could be rogue elements, it could be anything. The one thing that is clear is that they’re ruthless.’ Adams pointed at the backpack. ‘And that evidence you’ve got in there is our only potential bargaining chip.’
Adams stretched out, thinking about what was in the bag. High-definition footage of the burial site, measurements, notes, diagrams and, most importantly, DNA samples of the body itself.
‘If we’re going to get out of this, we have to learn more about that body — who it is, what it was doing there, and why it’s so damned important.’ He considered the matter further. ‘We need to get back to the US and get those samples tested, get the rest of the evidence copied and spread around. Like insurance.’
Lynn nodded, knowing he was right. All of a sudden, she was extremely glad she had sent the email to Matt. He was always so sure, so strong. And despite her own strengths, she had felt so lost here, stranded and alone against the vast machine of the US government, or whoever it was that was after her.
She felt unfamiliar feelings in her gut, ones she had not felt since — well, since the last time she had been with Matt, she finally admitted to herself. Was it the stress? Or were the feelings real?