For just an instant, Jake contemplated telling his boss to shove the job up his ass, but he contained himself. The irony was that he didn’t want another chance. He was beginning to hate this job. He’d be thrilled to let someone else do it. But since they wouldn’t have the benefit of experiencing an enhanced IQ the way he had, they would have no idea what they were really up against. Unfortunately, he was uniquely qualified to respond to the threat posed by Kira Miller and Icarus.
“Do you have any other leads?” asked Dutton, his voice now less confrontational.
“Some. Which we’re working through. But I’m not all that hopeful.”
“So you’re back to where you started before you found that physicist, Rosenfield?”
“Rosenblatt,” corrected Jake. “Yes. Pretty much.”
“That’s just fucking great,” growled Dutton in disgust. “Well, I’ve got more bad news when it comes to what you’re now calling the Icarus op,” he said. “We’re throttling back for now. I have a new job that takes precedence. Still keep ten percent of your attention and resources focused on Icarus, and another fifteen percent on your other ops.”
Jake looked on in disbelief. “What could be important enough to displace what I’m doing now?”
“The alien craft heading our way,” replied Dutton simply.
Jake did a double take. “What could that possibly have to do with me?”
“They’re setting up a cruise ship off the coast of Angola to study it,” explained Dutton, who then went on to describe how this would be handled; information that, while currently privileged, would be communicated across the globe in less than twenty-four hours. “I want you and a few handpicked men on that cruise ship. As security. I may join you as well, but that’s still being decided. I also want your team back in the States to profile all delegates, scientists, and crew who come on board. When it comes to anything having to do with the alien craft, you’re now the intelligence arm of this country.”
“Why me?” protested Jake. “My charter is to stop WMD. Not to babysit scientists and dignitaries.”
“Because you’re a ghost. You aren’t on the radar of any country—including our own.”
“I will be after this assignment.”
Dutton shrugged. “Can’t be helped. But at least while you’re on that ship, to intelligence agencies around the world, you’ll be an enigma wrapped in a black-ops mystery.”
“Aren’t there others equally off the radar who could do this?” argued Jake. “Again, I’m WMD, which has nothing to do with this alien craft.”
“We can’t be sure of that.”
Jake shook his head. “Any civilization this advanced will have had to conquer their self-destructive and aggressive nature,” he said. “If they stop by for a visit, they’re bound to be peaceful.”
“Really?” said Dutton, shaking his head in disgust. “And what makes you the expert on alien civilizations? Who the fuck knows what might motivate them.” He paused. “Look, this isn’t up for discussion. I have you cleared all the way to the Oval Office. You need to get started immediately. I’ll feed you the list of delegates the moment a country finalizes their list, and the exact layout of the ship. I want you and Major Kolke on board. And I want you to handpick five others. No weapons will be allowed, so I want your top people in hand-to-hand combat, who excel at improvisation.”
“Are you expecting trouble from the delegates?” asked Jake.
Dutton swirled his drink. “Colonel, I’m always expecting trouble,” he replied with a dark scowl. “And I’m rarely disappointed.”
31
Kira, Desh, and Griffin returned to their Denver headquarters. Jim Connelly was away, providing new identities for Rosenblatt’s family and hexad, and helping them get established in their new surroundings and life.
Kira was grateful to be able to slip into some of her own clothing for a change, and added back to her pocket the key ring she had removed before driving out to surrender herself to Jake. She spent a few minutes attending to some pressing administrative duties and checking the computer logs for both Denver and Kentucky, making sure she had a full accounting of the actions and schedules for each hexad.
With this completed, she and Desh drove to their favorite Thai restaurant for dinner. They had been in communication via computer while she was holed up in Peterson, and she had already been thoroughly chastised by her husband for taking the risk that she had. Given that it had turned out so well, she knew he wouldn’t bring this up again.
The restaurant was dark and cozy, and the food outstanding. She ordered a glass of wine and took a small but satisfying sip.
“Believe it or not,” said Desh as their Mee Krob appetizer was placed on the table, “we haven’t talked about the alien ship yet. We may be the only people on earth who haven’t.”
“Well, we have been busy conducting prisoner exchanges,” pointed out Kira with a smile. “Not to mention escaping from military bases.”
“That old excuse,” said Desh with a grin of his own. “If I’ve heard that once I’ve heard it a million times.” He took a sip of his own glass of wine. “So what do you make of our alien friends?” he asked, serious once more.
Kira shrugged. “I don’t know. The fact that they’ve conquered zero point energy is stunning. But I find it depressing that as advanced as they are, they’re still bound by the speed of light. Maybe there really isn’t any clever way around it.” She paused. “I saw that several hexads have been enhanced since the news broke. What do they make of it?”
“There’s not nearly a consensus, even among enhanced minds. There are as many theories as there are Icarus members. They haven’t come up with anything much different than the general population.”
Kira nodded, but she was obviously distracted. “Look, David,” she said, before he could continue. “I need to change the subject. I told you about my impressions of Jake and how I escaped, but I didn’t tell you everything.”
Desh considered his wife carefully. “Go on.”
“There’s a person or a group out there with access to my enhancement treatment. I’m sure of it.”
Desh’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
“Jake admitted to me he’d been enhanced,” she replied. “And he didn’t get a gellcap from me, that’s for sure.” She quickly recounted her discussion with the colonel.
“So Eric Frey is alive after all?” said Desh when she was finished.
Kira nodded. “Yes. Under a false identity, no doubt. It’s the only possibility I can see.”
Frey had been a molecular biologist at USAMRIID, the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases. Putnam had been blackmailing him to recreate Kira’s work and produce gellcaps for her brother. Putnam had evidence that Frey was a pedophile and more, evidence Putnam insisted would be released automatically if he turned up dead, giving Frey and others he was blackmailing a stake in his continued health. True to Putnam’s word, the day after his death, evidence against Frey was sent to the authorities, which was how Desh had learned about him to begin with. He and Kira hadn’t known his name at the time, just that he was a molecular biologist at USAMRIID. So when the story broke that a talented scientist was charged with pedophilia, and then committed suicide rather than face the charges and the shame, it all fit together perfectly. Too perfectly.
“I should have made certain he was really dead,” said Desh. “You’d think I’d know better than that by now.”