Hawke glanced at his watch. “Jack, we’re short on time — I think we’d prefer the Bluffer’s Guide if that’s okay with you.”
Alex winced, knowing that few people could talk to the Pentagon chief like that and get away with it, but when her father cracked a quick smile and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head, she knew Hawke had worked his magic on yet another unsuspecting soul. Maybe it was the accent, she thought.
“Sure, I’m sorry. The bottom line is simple. The NSA commissioned the construction of a listening station in northern Norway — a strong NATO ally since 1949 — with a view to monitoring radio signals in the far north arctic region. You wouldn’t believe what the Russians get up to up there… Anyway, so far so good, but here’s where it gets its classification level. With the construction of the listening station going on up there it was decided to attach a science station alongside. Having the two side by side was a big saving in funding.”
He paused again, and bit his lip in hesitation.
“Dad?”
“The men building the station found something in the ice core up there.”
Alex and Hawke shared a glance. Both had the same question.
The obvious question.
“What did they find, Jack?”
Brooke rubbed his nose and jaw, still uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. Alex recognized his body language easily enough. He had done the same moves the afternoon he told her he was moving out to live across town. She was just a teenager at the time, and she could recall every instant of that moment — what they were both wearing, the way the sun came through the window and lit the dust motes floating down to her carpet, the words her father had used — it’s like this honey, your mother and I have decided to…
“Spit it out, Dad.” Even after so many years, her words were tinged with the bitterness of that memory.
“They found the severed head of what we later learned was Medusa.”
Alex looked at Hawke and knew he was thinking the same as her — an amazing revelation, but easier to accept given the events of the last few months. Kim Taylor on the other hand, was speechless with shock.
“Go on,” Hawke said.
“It gets worse. You’re aware of the mythological legend surrounding Medusa?”
Alex nodded gently.
“Sure,” Hawke said. “Anyone who looked at Medusa got turned to stone.”
Brooke sighed. “Turns out it’s not just a legend.”
“What do you mean?” Kim asked. “Is this even for real?”
“What happened at the Norwegian station came to light after the men working there stopped returning communications with a US air force base in Germany, which they used as a relay station. Obviously our guys got suspicious and a man named Colonel John Hill went up there to find out what was going on. At the time it was feared they’d been attacked by the Soviet Navy. What they found disabused them of that notion forever.”
“What did they find, exactly?” Hawke asked.
“They found all the men at the station had been turned to stone, and worse than that, when they discovered Medusa, several members of the search and recovery team were also turned to stone, including Colonel Hill himself. After they discovered what was doing it, the surviving men took the necessary precautions and secured the head. It was brought to the US and secured in a facility here — the one you went to today — Archive 7.”
“And it’s been there ever since?” Alex asked.
Brooke nodded. “Until today. When you told me about those men being turned to stone I knew straight away what Kimble had ordered out of Archive 7, but why is anyone’s guess.”
“How many people know about this?” Hawke asked.
“Not many. Less than a dozen by my reckoning, and that may or may not include our new Commander-in-Chief,” he said, referring to Kimble. “I don’t want to go all Rumsfeld on you both, but I know not even I know everything. When you get as far up the greasy pole as I have, you start to learn things about the world… dark things.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Kim said, rubbing her forehead.
A look of grim determination crossed Brooke’s face. “Now I think we can all understand the importance of what’s happening today. This isn’t just about rescuing the President, or stopping these maniacs from killing millions of people. This is about the vital national security of the United Stated and some of our most highly classified secrets.”
“So what’s our next move?” Kim asked. “We still have no idea who’s behind this.”
Brooke sighed. “We have two problems — we need to know where these guys are operating out of — for that we wait to see where the Novak lead takes us. The other problem is we need to know just how this thing has the power to turn people to stone. That’s why you’re here, Alex. I know you can do that for me. Please remember this isn’t something we can throw out to just anyone. No one can ever know about what we’re talking of here, all right?”
Alex and Kim nodded, but Hawke wasn’t so sure.
“And one more thing, while we’re on this. You should all know that The Tomb of Eternity was quarantined by Eddie Kosinski’s office.”
“The Tomb of what?” Kim asked.
“On whose orders?” Hawke asked, ignoring Kim.
“An unknown official, and I can say no more than that… Now, we have to get back to these attacks.”
Outside the office, Hawke, Kim and Alex walked back to the main office, still buzzing with people on phones, trawling through computer records and CCTV footage.
“You know what I’m thinking?” Alex said.
Kim was still speechless.
Hawke looked at Alex. “If that’s the second highest classification, what the hell is the first?”
“Pretty much,” Alex replied, and turned to Hawke and Kim. “Listen, I need to grab a coffee — I’ll catch up with you in a second.”
It was true that she needed a coffee, but it was also true that she needed time to herself to think about whether or not she should make another call to Ryan Bale. As she made her way along the corridor, she decided she needed to make that call.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Vincent Reno cracked his knuckles and walked toward Agent Kevin Novak. Not for the first time today he’d found himself thinking about his ex-wife Monique and their twin sons Léo and Louis. He hadn’t seen his kids for weeks, but he worried about them all the time. The world was dangerous enough without scumbags like Kevin Novak adding a spark to the fuse. “Okay, mon ami, we need to talk.”
Novak struggled against the ropes binding him to the kitchen table and blinked in the harsh strip-light shining in his eyes. “I don’t know anything… I swear it.”
Vincent powered a fist into his face, splitting his lip open for the second time tonight. “Not good enough. We know more than you think, but we need you to help us with some of the details, or… this is going to be a long night, n’est-ce pas?”
“Jesus, Doyle, who the hell is this guy?”
Vincent leaned forward and rolled up his sleeve to reveal a large tattoo of a burning grenade. “Légion Étrangère, mon ami.” He gave a broad grin and nodded his head with pride. “You can call me Reaper.”
“Just tell us, Novak,” Doyle said. “Right now you’re going down for the rest of your life. If you help us out you could get some leniency.”