The Copernicus would fly the flag of the United Nations, a body that had become hopelessly corrupt in many ways, serving as a public forum for countries with hateful and intolerant ideologies. A once august body that now allowed countries with the worst human rights records in the world to head human rights commissions, attacking political enemies with human rights records far better than their own. But even the most ardent critics of the U.N. were hopeful that this effort could at least redeem the concept of cooperation among nations.
So plans were made and delegates selected. The Spectacle of the Sea, now the Copernicus, would be stationed in international waters, just off the coast of Angola, but close enough to Namibia, Botswana, and South Africa that ports and aircraft from these countries could be used to shuttle delegates to the ship.
The massive sea vessel crawled through the waves toward its destination at just over twenty miles an hour, not wanting to be late for a rendezvous with a craft that had traveled trillions of miles for unguessable purposes.
The alien object might change course, or it might not be retreivable.
But if it was, the world would be ready.
30
Colonel Morris Jacobson took one last look at the waters of the Potomac and turned back toward the street, where a stretch black limo, its windows tinted, was pulling up beside him. He checked his watch. Punctual as always.
The door swung open and he slid inside the cocoon of luxury. His boss, Andrew Dutton, was inside, sipping a glass of scotch. Dutton’s official title within the Department of Defense was Senior Civilian Advisor on Special Operations Forces, Counterterrorism, Irregular Warfare, and Counternarcotics. But unofficially, off the radar, he was much, much more. There were those in the government with fancier titles, both civilian and military, and who reported, at least on paper, to higher levels, but none had more power than Dutton nor readier access to the ear of the president.
Jake extended his hand to shake, but Dutton ignored him, offering only an expression of contempt in return. “Let’s not waste time beating around the bush, Colonel,” said Dutton by way of greeting. “I read your report. What the fuck is going on? You lose her before I even know you have her! What kind of bullshit is that?”
Jake met his boss’s steady gaze. “I admit it wasn’t my finest hour. But you of all people know I work independently and call my own plays. You, yourself, insisted on this level of autonomy. Once you and I agree on the direction of the end zone, I’m responsible for driving the team down the field.”
“If I hear one more fucking football metaphor in this town I swear to God I’m going to puke.”
“The point stands,” said Jake.
“Then let me make myself crystal clear,” snapped Dutton. “From here on out, if you know anything useful about this Icarus—anything—I want to know about it without delay. And if you have Kira Miller in your sites—I want to know about it yesterday. Is that understood?”
“Understood.”
“And I’d like to see the footage you have of her.” He shook his head in disgust. “You know, during the brief time you were able to hold on to her.”
“There is no footage.”
“You didn’t film her?” yelled Dutton in disbelief.
“I’m afraid not,” lied Jake, inwardly cursing himself for revealing to Kira that he had taken a gellcap, and describing his actions while under its influence. This was now on the video, and was not something he wanted known, especially not by Andrew Dutton.
“I’ve always thought you were very good at what you do,” said Dutton. “But I may have to modify that assessment. How could you be so fucking incompetent as to not have a camera on her?”
Jake held his ground. “Because it was a brief meeting, not an interrogation. Once the interrogation started we’d have all the footage you could ever want. But I wanted a few minutes alone with her beforehand. Just to size her up. Get a feel for her. See what she looked like in person.”
“See what she looked like. Or her tits?”
“She was fully dressed the entire time I was with her.”
“That’s not what it looked like to the men outside your office door. And according to them, the girl claimed you tried to get a feel for her all right—with your pecker.”
“She made that up to help her escape, and you know it!” snapped Jake. “I didn’t touch her! One of the guards she attacked is a third level black belt in two different martial arts, and he couldn’t lay a hand on her. I couldn’t have raped her if I wanted to. It’d be easier trying to rape a wood chipper.”
“I don’t know,” said Dutton. “Maybe that’s why you didn’t want any filming. Without video, how do we know what really happened in there? Maybe you were forcing yourself on her when her super IQ kicked in and you lost control of the situation. You admit yourself she was just normal, helpless Kira Miller before she surprised the shit out of you.”
“There’s nothing normal or helpless about Kira Miller, believe me. Even when she’s not amped up.”
“Maybe you ripped her clothes open and uncuffed her so you could have better, um . . . access.”
“What are you saying? That you believe the word of a psychopath over mine? One trying to distract my men to help her escape at the time?”
“No. I’m saying you didn’t film your meeting! And your very own report says her cuffs were found near your desk, completely intact. Removed from her. She couldn’t have done it herself.”
“The report also said there was clear evidence of scratches on the ratcheting mechanism, and we found an unwound paperclip nearby. She picked them.”
“You can pick plastic handcuffs with a paperclip?”
“If you know what you’re doing, yes.”
“Then why are they considered the ultimate restraint?”
“Not many people have the knowledge or skill to pull it off.” He shook his head angrily. “But enough of this. I told you I didn’t touch her. I won’t say it again, and I won’t defend myself further. I’m offended by your accusations. If you have even the slightest doubt that I’m telling you the truth, I’ll tender my resignation right now.”
Dutton stared at him for a long moment. “I believe you, Colonel,” he snarled. “If I didn’t, I’d have relieved you of duty already.” He swirled his drink and studied the dark amber liquid before bringing it to his lips once again.
He lowered the glass. “But I grilled you just now for a reason,” he said. “Because you fucked up big time. And you know it. How about taping your sessions with prisoners from now on? You have a session with perhaps the most important prisoner you’ve ever had, and you let her get away. Without any record she was even there. If it weren’t for the quality of your service, I’d not only take your resignation, I’d insist on it. I’m still spitting blood over this one.” He paused. “But I’m going to give you a second chance.” He leaned in closer to the colonel and glared at him. “Believe me, you won’t get a third.”