Jenks snorted. “Son, it would take their people all of five minutes to design a replacement, a far better one than the original, so what did you hope to accomplish?”
Jack could see the man was caught off guard. Moira and her cohorts never expected the doorway to be discovered, thus their laziness in dismantling it. Now the question was why they were so determined to not only protect the doorway, but the extent they were willing to go to protect Moira Mendelsohn.
Black sedans and vans of every size and shape burst through the Brooklyn Navy Yard gates simultaneously. The guards at the main entrance off of Flushing Avenue caught the civilian guards completely unaware as their cars skidded to a sliding stop. The same happened at the gates fronting the Sands, Cumberland, Vanderbilt, Clinton, and Clymer streets. The entire Brooklyn Navy Yard was secured in less than three minutes. The buildings on the north side of the yard were evacuated and told by the FBI that a major drug raid was in progress.
The men heard the cars as they surrounded the building they were in. Jack looked at Mendenhall and then nodded. Will ejected the clips on the two weapons he had taken from the two other bodyguards and then handed the nine millimeters back to them. Jack did the same with Julien’s weapon. His raised brows was the only indication of his confusion.
“Put those away and keep silent. We don’t wish you or your employer any harm or legal entanglements. We work for the government, but are not the government.”
Confusion masked the bearded man’s worry.
The door opened and the civilian security guard was moved into the room ahead of three men in navy blue Windbreakers.
“Which one of you is Colonel Collins?” the first of the FBI agents asked, pushing by the guard.
“That would be me,” Jack said, turning away from a startled Julien.
“Sir, Special-Agent-in-Charge Williamson is outside and needs a word.”
Jack eyed Will and Henri and then made sure they understood that no one, especially the federal agents, would have access to the lower levels of the building. He moved to follow the agent.
“Colonel, how are you?” Special Agent Williamson asked as he stood in the rain with an umbrella over his head.
“Jim, long time,” Jack said as he stepped to the nondescript sedan. “All secured?”
“For the moment, until some of these tenants start screaming bloody murder to the NYPD. I figure you have about an hour before lengthy explanations are in order.”
Jack nodded and started to explain. “Allow tenants in every area of the yard to return to work, but everything north of Clinton Avenue belongs to us. How much trouble will you be in over this?”
“We had a tip on interstate meth exchange with a possible manufacturing point here in Brooklyn, all a false alarm. I figure you can have the northern area for about forty-eight hours before some serious people start frowning.”
“That’s all we’ll need.”
“Good, because the bureau would come down pretty hard if they knew who I was really working for.”
Collins laughed. “It all depends on who you fear more, the President of the United States or Dr. Niles Compton?”
“Forty-eight hours, Jack.”
“Got it.”
Special-Agent-in-Charge James Williamson had been recruited by Jack personally ten years before upon his graduation from Quantico. The agent was just another of the cards Jack and Niles held up their sleeves that no one knew about, not even the president and his constitutionally guaranteed oversight.
The agent whistled and all fifteen of the securing agents left the area and secured the perimeter a mile around building 117.
The Wellsian Doorway was now secured and in the hands of Department 5656.
The countdown against the presidential edict had begun.
The Event Group now had one hundred hours of undisturbed oversight to complete the most amazing mission in world history before the rest of the American federal agencies became aware of some strange goings-on within the borders of the United States.
8
The bodyguard stepped away from the building when he saw the big man move off to confer with the FBI teams that were heavily deployed around not only the building but also the dock area. His eyes easily picked up this man’s companions. They were conferring underneath an umbrella as they talked. The black man turned his way and then back. That was when he quickly brought out his cell phone and punched a number he thought he would never use. It was answered on the first ring.
“I think Madam’s judgment is in question. Building one-seventeen is—”
“Yes, I have that information already. If I had relied solely on you I am afraid I would have been caught unawares.”
“You said this would come about.”
“I assume the FBI has fabricated some sort of cover story for the raid on Madam’s property?”
“Yes, I heard drug manufacturing,” Julien said worriedly.
“That would never hold up to scrutiny,” the man said on the other side of the cell. “I understand they are preparing Madam for transport.”
“Oh, God, where to? They wouldn’t dare arrest her?”
“That, I would welcome. No, from our intelligence inside the house, our federal friends are taking her to Brooklyn.”
“Have the rest been notified about Madam?” Julien asked, lowering his voice when he saw the black man look his way once more. He held the cell closer to his body to protect it from the increasingly violent rain.
“No, and they must not be. They are only students who don’t understand the dangers of what could happen if the world learns the truth. No, they are not to be notified.”
“But Madam? What is she and these men up to?”
“Tell me of these men who confronted you and Madam at the Grenada.”
“I don’t have a clear picture of who they are. Two, maybe three look military. The shorter, bear of a man was babbling on in scientific terms, so I can’t really rule out any agency at this point.”
“That is not what I was hoping to hear. If this is military we could lose the security of the doorway and many, many secrets would be spilled, which is unacceptable as more people other than myself have plenty to lose if this technology is compromised.”
“Maybe Madam has reasons for sharing the information. Maybe they don’t know what the doorway is.”
The silence on the other end of the line sent a chill down Julien’s spine. He knew this man and a few others like him did have plenty to lose if a spotlight were shined on them. Maybe even more to lose if Madam had knowledge of what they had been doing. The pay he received to inform on the household goings-on was not enough for this.
“Listen, stay close to Madam,” the voice said.
“What are—”
“Shut up and listen. Stay close, I will have to deal with this myself with outside resources.”
“I will not allow Madam to be harmed, we would defend her to the—”
A large hand reached out and gently removed the cell phone from Julien’s hand. The black man was there and he immediately hit redial. He saw the number and noted it. He shut off the glass-faced phone and looked at the very much larger Julien.
“All information coming and going is to go through either the FBI or one of these fine gentlemen,” he said, indicating Jenks, Henri, and Jack. “Clear?” Will Mendenhall said as he walked away toward the building and then tossed the confiscated cell phone to the man they referred to as the colonel.
Julien swallowed as he now feared what he might have unleashed in making that call. There were no limits as to how far certain men would go to protect their secrets, and Julien now feared he had unleashed a tornado and placed his beloved madam right in its path.