Gordon, however, made a more important point. "You’re both missing the big question. The big question is not how did the Redcoats get all the way from Mexico to D.C., without being spotted. The question is why did they get spotted when they made their getaway? How did the Excalibur catch a sniff of them during their escape?" Nina tried to follow, "Maybe their stealth field failed?" "Or maybe," Gordon nearly growled, "they wanted to be found." The conversation paused for a moment. Music filled the gap.
Gordon continued with a question for Ernie, "And what have you found?"
The man smiled as he answered not to Gordon but to Nina, "Tell me, miss, are you aware of the ‘tambourine’ fence along the eastern seaboard? Hmm?"
Nina took pleasure in showing the scope of her knowledge.
"An early warning system of radar and sonar designed to spot and track anything in the air or sea that gets close to the Atlantic coast. It’s managed by Internal Security."
Ernie leaned forward, took a sip of his drink, and shared much more.
"I am one of the tambourine…drummers, I suppose. Our station in Miami oversees the coastline here, so as to keep us safe from all the bad things in that great big world out there. I have a friend. The way Gordon has me as a friend. You’ll find that we all have many friends in this business, yes, Gordo? This friend of mine works in tambourine central control outside of D.C., where all the data from all the stations is collected and analyzed."
Gordon added, "To coordinate response."
"Si. Oh, um, yes. Anyway, I did what you asked, Gordon. This friend of mine, he is certain-he swears — that a station on Long Island identified an inbound air ship of unknown origin penetrate the tambourine line off the coast of New Jersey, heading southwest."
Nina perked. Gordon kept a poker face and asked, "How long?"
"Less than an hour before the assassination. But there is more, Gordo. Another ship-this time outbound-tripped the electronic fence in the same area not long after." "The same ship?" Ernie answered, "This is unknown. But the size of the vessels was similar." Nina pounced, "Did they raise the alert? I mean, what did they do?"
"This is just the thing, miss. They did nothing. On that day, they had a very important visitor who was overseeing operations."
Gordon knew the answer before Ernie could speak: "Dante Jones."
Knox’s tone suggested satisfaction, not surprise. Nina’s head swiveled fast between the two men. She noted how their eyes seemed to speak without words.
"You knew? You knew, didn’t you?"
Ernie explained, "Gordo had me check the D.C., center first. He knew Mr. Jones to be there that day."
"A hunch," Gordon admitted. "As soon as I heard what happened, I wanted to know where all of Trevor’s people were. Jones was in an important place. I had my friend here ask questions."
"And that’s when my friend told me about the air space…hmmm…violations." Gordon spoke fast, "And the data tapes aren’t around anymore, are they?" Ernie nodded his head and sipped the last drops of his drink. Nina said, "So there’s no record? Only your friend’s word that he saw something. I mean, no evidence."
"Si. He went back to check the center’s logs for that time and found no warnings, no sightings. As far as Internal Security is concerned, all was quiet on the…hmmm… eastern front." Again Nina spotted a silent conversation between the two old comrades. Ernie smiled. "What? What is it?" Nina’s voice carried the slightest hint of a pout. Gordon said, "The buoys. The network. You have someone on it already, don’t you?" "Another one of our friends, Gordo."
Ernie pulled a folded paper from his pocket and stretched to hand it to Knox who examined the contents and nodded. He spoke when he noticed Nina glaring at him, "The tambourine line is a series not only of monitoring stations but computers. Networked computers. Some on land, some on buoys in the Atlantic Ocean. With the right encryption codes, someone could access the backup information on the hard drives on those computers. Assuming they haven’t been erased."
Ernie laughed, "These amateurs? Half of the I.S. officers I work with don’t even know how the tambourine line works. Our friend is going to the buoy off Abaco Island tonight. He will meet you in the morning."
"Wait a sec," Nina’s voice wavered. "You said the fence was tripped near New Jersey. Why would that info be down here?"
"It’s a network," Gordon answered. "Someone with the right skills can hack into the whole system from one terminal." "Yes," Ernie laughed. "Someone I know made sure this to be the case, did you not?" Nina glared at Gordon yet again. "You? You built this into the tambourine line?" He answered, "Always have a backup plan, Captain." Ernie quipped, "And oh yes, hmmm, never trust anyone." "What matters," Gordon insisted, "is that we’ll have some answers tomorrow."
"No, Gordo. What did you always tell me? You’ll have more information. Answers are the stories you tell from that information and stories can be told a lot of different ways."
17. Fast Attack
"Untie the stern line."
Nina-who felt only slightly more comfortable in a boat than in a car-searched around until finding and letting loose one of the thick cords keeping the vessel attached to the dock. The rope had barely released when Gordon thrust the throttle. The twin Mercruiser engines propelled the thirty-foot Sleekcraft away from the marina on the west side of Key Biscayne.
Gordon wore his straw hat, Nina had ditched the previous night's sun dress in favor of more comfortable garb: camo BDUs and a black tank top. Not quite right for a hot South Florida afternoon, but about as casual as Nina would get again anytime soon. A baseball cap provided some shade and layers of protective lotion covered every square inch of her body, a reaction to the patch of burning red on her neck from the day before.
In any case, Gordon steered his low-profile, high-performance boat to the south. Nina walked gingerly toward the front trying to find her sense of balance as the boat bounced. She stumbled, practically falling into the forward V-berth.
"Easy does it," Gordon suggested. "You gotta get your sea legs."
Nina righted herself into the passenger seat. The salt water spray from the bobbing bow fell across her face in a loose veil. She found it slightly refreshing.
In fact, slowly-as they passed the southern tip of Key Biscayne and turned east into the Atlantic proper-she began to appreciate the cooling blast of wind and water vapor.
For the first half an hour, she spied other sea goers ranging from long sail boats to a freighter headed north, a military patrol ship watching the waterways and a pair of dueling cigarette boats engaged in a test of speed. However, Nina soon saw herself and Gordon as the only human beings within miles.
Knox closely kept watch over the gauges and readings on the dash, occasionally consulting the folded slip of paper Ernie provided last night.
Still, the further they went the more Nina grew apprehensive. Part of that came from the real worry of sea monsters, but most from her anxiety over the investigation. Clandestine meetings, hacked computer systems, and conspiracy theories did not sit well in her gut. Nina Forest wore a soldier's uniform, not a spy's cloak. While she had an eye for tactics and an instinct for fighting, she did not trust her ability to sift through deception. Apparently Nina's concerns surfaced in her expression. Gordon asked, "What's wrong?" She lied, "Nothing." "You're wondering why Ashley chose you. Are you the right person for the job?" She sighed. "So you're a mind reader now? Is that it?"
"I wondered the same thing," he rubbed salt in the wound. "You have a reputation as a tremendous soldier. But you'd think Ashley would turn to Jon Brewer or Shep to dig this up. Whatever the reason, it's not because of your talents, but because Ashley has faith in your ability to get the job done. She sent you to me so that you'd have help with the spooking around. She knew I have the contacts."