Her audacious words seemed to snap the men from their moment of aggression. Russell slowly let up on Pierce’s throat. Russell had broken the skin around the man’s Adam’s apple. Thick, red fingermarks painted a reminder of how close Pierce had been from being choked to death. Pierce covered his throat and backed away in a hurry.
Hanna slowly laid her head up against the wall. A sense of surrender and guilt raced through her veins. She had worked so desperately her entire career to get to a point where she was trusted with the highest of national security matters. Now, she felt obligated to divulge. She was throwing it all away. It was gone within a few breaths.
Hanna’s real reason for visiting Area 51 that morning was to put the final buttons on a report she had been tasked with over the last three years. The report was commissioned by the Armed Services Committee and signed off by the president. A few moral crusaders in Washington had grown wary of the air force’s black operations in Nevada. They had been given autonomy for almost seventy years, and with the ushering in of a new administration of thinkers, the time had come to close Groom Lake once and for all. Hanna’s report would be the decisive blow. However, on this particular day, she never reached her secure computer that was set up for her in one of the administrative buildings. It was the fifteenth time she had visited, and she was looking forward to today being her last trip.
“We call them Reptilians. They’re one of five groups. We’ve had them since the fifties.”
Russell looked on with a perplexed glare. Everyone knew the stories. It was the subject of rumor and urban legend. Despite what they had all just witnessed, Hanna’s claim still felt unreal, false, and hard to swallow.
“We needed their technology during the Cold War. Eisenhower made the deal. He lived to regret it,” Hanna explained.
“What kind of deal?” Dimitri asked.
“Human studies,” she said, looking down to her lap with a sense of shame.
Pierce looked off. He knew the story. In exchange for military technological advances, the Reptilians were given a certain number of human subjects each year to experiment on and dispose of. Over one hundred thousand people a year went missing without a trace, and a good portion of that statistic belonged to the program nicknamed Hawthorn. Subjects included men, women, children, infants, and people of all social and economic backgrounds. Popular fiction had dramatized this with UFOs beaming unsuspecting victims from their beds and cars on rural roads, but the reality was less glamorous and far more frightening. Government stooges often kidnapped abductees and sent them to various bases across the western United States. Some went to a remote base in New Mexico, and the others went to Nevada. The Nevadans were most fortunate. What happened to the victims after the ordeal in New Mexico typically meant mutilation and experimentation.
“What do they want from us?” asked Russell, still coming to terms with what he had just heard.
Hanna took a moment to find the logical response. There was none. The reality was almost too horrible to speak. “To evolve their species.”
“But they’re getting more hostile. More aggressive. They are starting to breach our side of the base more frequently,” Pierce added.
Russell stepped back and slid down to the floor. He was finally out of words. There was nothing he could say about anything now.
Hanna’s and Pierce’s words lingered for a few minutes as the group wrestled with their entire knowledge of the world around them collapsing to the floor. Their understanding of religion was gone. National pride, gone. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Anything was possible now, and that included their deaths today.
“I can’t just sit here,” Russell said as he climbed up from the floor.
Dimitri was quick to read Russell’s movement as he started to stand back up. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I can’t do her like that,” Russell explained. “That girl is out there by herself with those goddamned things.” Russell motioned to Pierce. “Thanks to this asshole.”
Pierce shrugged off the comment and looked away. It was the least he could do to showcase his disdain for the situation. He still had the image of Gail’s panicked face pleading to him through the glass. He felt a level of indifference, but he knew it had been the right thing to do. He wasn’t certain about what he had noticed on the back of Gail’s neck, but he knew enough not to second-guess his instincts.
He glanced up as Russell brushed past him toward the threshold to the hallway. Dimitri was quick to cut Russell off. Hanna also jumped to her feet. She raced to the door and blocked his pathway.
“What are you doing?” Hanna asked. She knew the obvious, but she wanted him to think about his actions.
“You can hardly walk,” Dimitri said as he locked shoulders with Hanna.
Russell knew they were right, but he felt an obligation to go after Gail himself. He was responsible for all of them as security captain, and a lingering sense of duty still called. He lifted his contemplating head and looked back up to Dimitri. “Look, man. Just get that elevator open. I’ll be all right,” he replied.
“I’ll go with you,” Hanna said.
Russell was quick to shake his head. He knew what she was going to say. “No. He’s gonna need as much help as he can get here,” Russell replied, indicating his distrust of Pierce.
Dimitri agreed. If they were going to stand a chance getting to the digs, he would need a second attempt. He looked down to the Browning. He’d had the safety off for a few minutes. He glanced back to Russell with reluctance. He didn’t want to give up the gun, but Russell needed it more for his mission. He popped the safety in with his thumb and swung the handle outward, offering it to Russell. “It’s on safety.”
Russell glanced down as he accepted the weapon with solidarity. It took a lot for the expat to offer up his only line of defense. It was a true mark of his unselfishness. Russell admired that. He had been wrong about the Russian. The Russian was the better man.
“Thank you,” Russell said with an apologetic frown.
Dimitri wasn’t good with emotional stuff. He lassoed Russell’s shoulder and started to escort him toward the hallway exit in a hurry.
“Come on. Move your ass,” he replied, pushing Russell out toward the door.
Dimitri quickly opened the door. Russell stepped out cautiously, scanning the site. He angled his gun up like a pro. His military past had taught him a few things about weapons — it was better to be the person holding it.
CHAPTER 13
The outside of the laboratory hallway was a character within itself. The lonely, dense facility stared back at Russell as he looked around and tried to figure out which way to go. A staircase was in front of him. It was the one they had trudged through a few times now, and it was the same set they had raced up less than ten minutes prior. It was an obvious choice only because it was the only apparent way back down to the lower parts of the facility.
Although this portion of the facility was underground, it still had various stories. The tunnels, or “digs,” as they were known, were another ten stories from where Russell stood. He still felt as though he was missing something. Where could she have slipped away to? She’s got to be close. He wanted to shout out for her, but he knew better. His only plan was to be stealthy and keep his back covered and away from any open space. He had watched enough of those cop procedurals on television.
Russell lifted his gun and slowly paced toward the steps as his flashlight sprayed down onto the banister of the stairwell. His hand was trembling. His breathing was a calm wheeze. The level where he stood was about four stories up. He was at the top level. The only way was down — down into the abyss of the facility once again. He had fought so desperately to make it up these steps a short time ago. Each step was reluctant. Each step was him accepting his fate. Each step was noisy and alarming.