Immediately he thought of the map he had drawn in the warmth and safety of his basement den at home, and knew exactly where he was. He was at the crash site of the ship that the Predator—the one that had been killed by the Upgrade—had used to reach Earth.
Even though the ship was broken and spattered with charred, pulped jungle debris, it was still a thing of beauty. Rory gazed up at it in awe, admiring its sleek lines, its economical, streamlined shape.
They had arrived here just in time. A squad of soldiers was unrolling a huge tarpaulin, and even as Rory watched they began to haul it over the ship, presumably to conceal it from potential rubberneckers who might be peering down from passing aircraft.
Rory couldn’t understand why the crash site hadn’t been discovered before now—he could only suppose that the blackened ground was less visible from the air, and that the original Predator had cloaked the ship, then led Traeger’s men well away from it, before allowing itself to be captured—but now that it had, it was a hive of activity. Over on the far side of the clearing, a group of techs were rolling in a giant screen, while others followed behind like an honor guard, holding armfuls of cable attachments to stop them trailing in the mud.
And on the periphery, more soldiers were variously hammering in posts, unrolling lengths of wire fencing, or engaged in the setting up of a generator, so that—Rory assumed—the site could be enclosed within an electrified barrier.
So engrossed was he in all this activity, and in the ship itself, that he had almost forgotten about Traeger. It was only when the man crouched beside him that he recalled who had brought him here.
“So, what do you say?” Trager said. “Think you can get us in there? Because I’m not sure that you can.”
Rory was not so out of touch with human emotions that he couldn’t recognize Traeger’s intentions. “Good reverse psychology, fuckface,” he said, deliberately using a word he thought his dad might have used.
Traeger chuckled, but his next words were anything but kind. “Put it this way, then. You love your dad, don’t you? You want to see him alive again, right? Then do me a favor…”
He put one hand on his sidearm and gestured with the other toward the hatch of the newly revealed ship. Then he leaned toward the kid and whispered, “Let your love open the door.”
Rory might have been on the autism spectrum, but he got the message loud and clear.
If Rory had known where his dad was at that precise moment, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised. Despite their differences, he had absolute faith in his dad’s prowess as a soldier, and was sure, even though his dad hadn’t been around all that much in the last couple years, that if he, Rory, was ever in danger—as he possibly was now—his dad would move Heaven and Hell to help him.
It would almost certainly have given Rory some comfort to know that his dad was looking at him right now. Quinn McKenna, who knew this terrain far better than Traeger and his bozos did, was currently perched on the highest spit of land overlooking the crash site. He was shrouded in foliage, completely camouflaged, his rifle leveled and his eye glued to the sniper scope, which allowed him to see what was happening with crystal clarity.
The pink helicopter was parked in a clearing just over a mile away, and the Loonies and Casey were out and about, doing their stuff. The Loonies might be a maverick bunch, but McKenna had faith not only in their loyalty, but also in their abilities. He didn’t know where any of this was ultimately leading, but right now he felt like the leader of The A-Team. Just him and his rag-tag bunch of oddballs against the world.
Through his sniper scope he saw Rory approach the crashed Predator ship, flanked by Traeger on his left and his smarmy sidekick, Sapir, on his right. Last time McKenna had been here, the hatch of the pod had been open, sticking straight up in the air like the damaged wing of a crumpled dragonfly. Now, though, it was closed—presumably by the Predator, which had sealed up its ship before allowing itself to be “captured” by Traeger’s men and transported to the Stargazer facility. McKenna watched as Rory halted in front of the hatch and examined a panel beside it, Traeger and Sapir looking on. Then his son reached out and began to tap a code sequence into the keypad.
Even though Rory was proud of his dad—and more so than ever after today—he had never wanted to be a soldier like him. He had little desire to shoot anyone, or to be shot at, no matter how noble the cause. But as he stood in front of the Predator’s ship, he wished he still had the helmet and gauntlet that had helped him accidentally vaporize the stoner while he was out trick-or-treating. He felt bad about that guy—figured he always would—but if he could have vaporized Agent Traeger, he wouldn’t have hesitated for a second.
For most of his life, Rory had never had to consider whether he had courage. He would never have said he was brave in the way his father was brave, but he stood up for himself. Now that he had to think about it, he supposed he had some courage in him. Cornered by bullies, he’d speak up, even fight back if he had to. But he wasn’t stupid. Agent Traeger struck him as the sort of person who had no sense of honor or nobility. If this guy needed to murder his father, maybe even his mother, to get Rory to do what he wanted, he did not doubt for a second that Traeger would do it.
So, he unlocked the ship.
Once he’d punched in the code, the hatch opened with a whisper. A cavernous darkness yawned within as the hatch rose. Tentatively, Traeger went first. Rory stood with Sapir, hanging back a moment. If he hadn’t stepped inside on his own, he figured Sapir would have nudged him. Traeger had recognized that Rory’s brain was an asset, and he had announced his decision to his aide the way a king might. The soldiers around them might think it was crazy for him to bring only Sapir and Rory into the ship, but they took their orders from Traeger and no one would dare challenge him.
Rory didn’t have to wonder about the decision, either. Traeger kept the others out because whatever might be inside the alien craft, it was top secret. Which meant that whatever happened after this, Rory would be forced to keep that secret. He imagined that meant Traeger intended him to be dead, but he was alive so far, and he planned to keep it that way.
So, he opened the door and he followed Traeger into the ship, and he didn’t even protest when Sapir gripped his arm to keep him from wandering. And he sure as hell didn’t try to run. Because where would he go, aboard an alien ship that might have homicidal monsters hiding away somewhere?
Once inside, the three of them gazed around in wonderment. There were symbols everywhere, but it looked precisely as Rory had imagined it. Once they had gotten past the entryway, they spotted several storage units set into the walls. Rory had seen enough movies to know this didn’t bode well, that these things might be hibernation chambers, and he shouldn’t want to know what they contained.
Except he did want to know. He couldn’t help himself, and he knew Traeger and Sapir and their whole gang of assholes at Project: Stargazer would also not be able to help themselves, given enough time.
Sure enough, Traeger grinned and rubbed his hands together, like a fat and greedy king who has just had a banquet laid out for him.
“Hook the translator into the mainframe, download everything,” he said. Turning to Rory—though only, Rory suspected, because there was no one else there for him to boast to—he added, “Been trying to figure out what these bird-chirping motherfuckers are saying since ’87. Gave the Harvard School of Linguistics a billion-dollar grant. Voilà!”