The drones would provide not just an eye in the sky but a finger on the trigger.
Or at least, the thought of a finger on the trigger.
Which, in the wars of the future, was going to be more than enough.
As far as dealing with Fred, Jesús wasn’t petty and he wasn’t interested in ruining the man’s life unnecessarily, so he held back from posting the photos online.
Instead, he took some time to confirm the arrangements with his people to make sure they would be on hand tonight when the drone landed in Mexico.
Before leaving to go truck shopping, we make some calls.
We can’t find any dealers with white 2012 Silverados, but we do find a new 2013, and the guy on the phone assures us that it’s not that much different than the previous year’s model. “She’s a beaut and I can fix you up with her today. She’s just sittin’ right here on the lot waitin’ for someone to drive her home.”
On our tight time frame I decide it’s best if we just go for it.
But before we leave, Xavier checks his texts and tells us, “Looks like a tad bit more bad news. We’re gonna need radios. That’s how the Cammo dudes communicate between trucks. If we don’t have one we’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Any good news related to that?”
“What about the walkie-talkies at the warehouse?” he suggests. “You know how we used to use them to talk to the stagehands and the guys in the lighting booth in the back of the auditorium? You still have ’em stored over there.”
“Do any of them still work?”
“They do. But I don’t know if they’ll be the right frequency, or the right model, that sort of thing. I’d say I doubt we’ll be that lucky, but it’s worth a shot. We can take ’em along.”
We have radio patches that we use now. They’re nearly transparent and you wear them behind your ear, but that was obviously not what we were looking for in this case.
“While you guys go buy the truck, I’ll go grab the walkie-talkies,” Charlene says. “Save some time.”
“Okay, one more thing.” Xavier is looking at his cell phone screen. “Fred says we’ll need to have our paperwork in order.”
This is just getting better and better.
“What paperwork?”
“He’s sending a link to some online forms we’ll need from their security firm. And if we’re going to show up, that means someone else needs to not show up.”
Fionna offers to take care of that while we’re gone. “Once I’m on the website I’ll send a message to the two guys who’re supposed to be showing up for work this afternoon, tell them there’s been a scheduling change.”
“Great,” Xavier says.
“Don’t be too long getting that truck.” She’s studying the files she pulled up from the USB drive. “It looks like if we’re going to make this work, you’ll need to be entering Groom Lake by 5:15. That’s when the shift change occurs.”
From there, things move quickly.
I put the truck on my AMEX Centurion Card, and we zip back home to get the walkie-talkies from Charlene and the completed paperwork from Fionna. She has also printed out the access codes and passwords from the USB drive.
“You think we should bring the drive along with us?” Xavier asks.
“I’d rather leave it here.” Just in case we get arrested, I think, but say, “Just to be safe.”
Fionna slips it into her purse.
The pickup only has dealer plates on it. My “BANKS1” plates won’t work, Xavier’s “UFOHNTR” probably wouldn’t be a good choice, and Fionna’s minivan plates are from Chicago, so we end up using the plates from Charlene’s car.
“This might be a problem,” Xav notes. “They’re not government-issued like the ones on Fred’s truck. Remember? When Fionna ran his plates?”
“I have a friend at the DMV,” she informs us. “I’ll see if we can get this pickup registered under the right name for those plates, at least temporarily, in case they run them at the base.”
“It’s Sunday afternoon,” I remind her. “The DMV’s not open.”
“My friend works flexible hours.”
I have the sense that her “friend” might actually be her computer and that she’s going to do a little work that might not be best to mention to us, but either way I trust she knows what she’s doing. “Alright. Great.”
She checks the names on the staff rotation. “Jevin, we’ll make you Colin McIntyre. Xavier, you’re Aurelio Gonzalez.”
“Sí,” Xavier replies.
I promise Charlene that I’ll look before I leap, if it comes to that.
“Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“And how does sneaking onto Area 51 with Xavier not fall into that category.”
“Well. Good point.”
“Listen, how about you and Fionna look into the RixoTray researcher Dr. Schatzing, see what you can find out about him and his connection with Emilio. Now that we know what we’re looking for, maybe you can pull something up from Emilio’s computer files, something that’ll give us an in for talking with him.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She gives me a kiss. In the other room Fionna is passing a folded-up clump of papers to Xavier. “I didn’t have time to tell you this earlier,” she explains softly. “Read it on the way.”
Then we call upstairs to tell the kids we’ll see them later, say goodbye to the women, and take off in the Silverado. Though I’m curious, I don’t ask Xav about the papers that I saw Fionna slip to him.
“Can you think of anything else we might need?” I ask him.
“Just one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Camo. We can’t forget our camo.”
“I don’t think we have time to go camo shopping, Xav.”
“We’re going to have to make time. We can’t imitate Cammo dudes dressed like this.”
The second sporting goods store we call has what we need, and thankfully, it’s on the way out of town.
We touch base with Fionna and confirm that the other two Cammo dudes who were scheduled to show up for work this afternoon won’t be coming.
“Don’t forget, you need to check in at 5:15,” she reminds me. “And don’t be late.”
“Gotcha. 5:15.” I check the clock in the car. “We should be fine.”
At last we’re on our way to the west entrance to Groom Lake to see if we can really get into Area 51 without being arrested.
I drive while Xavier unfolds the papers Fionna handed him and begins to read.
Outside the Box
Akio Takahashi watched the undersecretary study the blueprints he’d dug up.
She was taking her time, and he didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.
They did not contain any information about the secret fourth sublevel, but she might be suspicious.
She’d mentioned that a friend of hers had told her about recent undisclosed research findings on the “bionic forefront.”
But who? Could it be someone on the project? They were all thoroughly vetted, so that seemed unlikely. But if not, who could have found out about that?
Obviously, someone had access to the information, or she wouldn’t have heard about it.
As he was sorting things through, the undersecretary straightened up but said nothing, just stared at him.
He smiled. “Satisfied?”
She took a deep breath.
Akio waited anxiously.
“Yes.”
He barely managed to hold back a sigh of relief. “Well. That’s good, then. So, alright. And will there be anything else I can help you with?”