“Send her and Charlene the video footage of the research room and the photo of Emilio and Tim that was on Dr. Turnisen’s desk.”
“Gotcha.”
I aim the truck toward the dust-covered access road that leads out of Area 51.
Undersecretary Williamson dropped her car off with one of the Arête’s valet parking attendants and went inside the hotel for her seven o’clock meeting with the person who’d informed her about the undocumented research going on at Plyotech Cybernetics.
Charlene was pulling on a pair of stockings when a text came through from Jevin with an attached photo of Emilio with Tim. There was also some video they’d taken of one of the rooms at the base.
She could watch that later.
For now, she focused on the photo.
It confirmed that Emilio knew Turnisen.
And the words in Emilio’s notebook sure seemed to indicate that he knew Schatzing.
Did Turnisen know Schatzing too?
Her mind buzzed with the connections, the possibilities, the myriad of facts that were somehow related.
The USB drive came from RixoTray, yet it had the Groom Lake access codes on it — codes that allowed someone to get all the way to Turnisen’s research room in Groom Lake.
That, and the security clearance card.
8:46 p.m.
Yes, she needed to do this.
She needed to see Schatzing tonight.
She was wriggling into her dress when her phone rang. This time Agent Ratchford’s number came up.
If nothing else, she was being forced to confront her quirk of not liking talking on the phone.
“Hello, this is Charlene.”
“Miss Antioch, Agent Ratchford. I feel a little strange asking this, but you told me that two of your associates had been able to open the files from your copy of the USB drive?”
She guessed where this was going. “You’d like the information we offered you earlier today.”
“Yes, well, it seems our people haven’t been able to access the drive as quickly as I thought they would. You mentioned Fionna and Lonnie?”
“They’re here now. At the Arête. I’ll give you Fionna’s cell number.”
After hanging up, she texted Fionna that Ratchford was going to call her and that she would see them later.
Then she finished getting dressed and headed to her car to go visit Dr. Schatzing.
Still in the hotel room, Derek Byrne tried to sort through where Calista could have gone with Dr. Turnisen.
With his injuries, the man wouldn’t have been able to walk out on his own. She wasn’t strong enough to support him.
A wheelchair?
Derek went to the room phone and called the front desk. The woman on the other end referred to him by the alias Calista had rented the room under: “How may I help you, Mr. Brantner?”
“Yes, the wheelchair my wife requested hasn’t arrived yet.”
A moment passed as she typed. “I apologize, sir. It should have been sent up already. I’ll make sure it’s on its way.”
“Thank you.”
“Clive.”
“Oriana.”
“It’s good to see you again.”
“And you as well.” The undersecretary was not the hugging type, so she gave Clive Fridell a brisk handshake instead.
“It was a surprise to hear from you earlier,” Clive said. “I assume you’re in town to check up on what’s happening over at Plyotech?”
“I am. You told me they were doing some unofficial research there regarding bionic technology.”
“That’s what my people have heard.”
Though she was tempted to do so, she didn’t ask who his people were. He was a billionaire many times over, one of the richest people in America. When you have money and power like that, it’s not hard to find out people’s secrets.
He was also on the board at Plyotech. He might have heard about it from someone there. The puzzle might not be any more complicated than that.
He pulled up a chair for her. “Please, have a seat.”
She did.
He sat beside her.
“Now, Clive,” she said, “tell me what your people have heard. I’m very curious where this research is taking place if it’s not in any of the rooms on the building’s blueprints.”
“Alright, here’s what I know.”
Fionna received a call from FBI Special Agent Ratchford that he was on his way to the Arête.
“How long until you get here?”
“Fifteen minutes or so. And the USB drive, do you…?”
“I have it with me.”
“Perfect.”
“Text me when you arrive.”
“I will. And your associate Lonnie, Miss Antioch noted that he’s there with you?”
“Yes, he is. I’m sure he’ll be glad to talk with you as well.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
She hung up.
“Well, Lonnie, it looks like the FBI needs our help.”
“Cool.”
“Kids, let’s get some dessert. I’m thinking the Chocolate Fountain. A business meeting — dessert compliments of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Donnie nodded. “Taxes actually being put to good use.”
Derek Byrne ran everything through in his mind.
So Calista had called for a wheelchair, but where did she go? And how would he find her? With Turnisen in the shape he was in, it seemed unlikely that she would just be able to wheel him out of the hotel without drawing undue attention to herself.
It was possible, but…
He made his way through the casino to the parking garage and found her car still there.
A taxi? A limo?
After confirming that his own car was in its spot as well, Derek returned to her car, made sure no one else was there watching him, then knelt and punctured her tires.
That would keep her from driving off.
He needed a way to narrow things down.
He knew her credit card number.
That was a start.
I take it easy on the roads. After having our plates run and our paperwork verified, we make it past the first two security checkpoints without any trouble, and at last we approach the final one.
“This is it, Xav.”
“Third time’s a charm.”
In my headlights I see the Cammo dude who checked us in earlier step into the middle of the road.
He raises his hand as an order for us to stop, which I do.
Tension tightens in my gut.
I roll my window down.
You’re still on the property and you’re not supposed to be. They could still arrest you.
Or shoot you.
“Clearing out?” he asks me with a touch of disbelief.
“Yeah.”
“You know what time it is?”
“We’re in a forty-twenty-two.” I point to Xav. “His wife was in a car accident. We just got the word.”
The guard leans a flashlight in, studies Xavier for a moment. “What’s your wife’s name?”
“My wife?”
“In the car accident.”
“Fionna.”
It takes him a long time to reply. “Well, I hope she’s alright.”
“Me too.”
“Radio in when you’re off the property.”
“Gotcha.”
We pull forward and almost simultaneously let out deep breaths.
“I had to think of a name off the top of my head,” he explains.
“Sure.”
“It was either her or Betty.”