As he was walking, his cell phone rang in his pocket. He retrieved it and looked at the small screen with a smile.
“Well hello, beautiful.”
“Good morning,” Alison’s voice sounded on the other end. “How are you?”
“Not too bad. How’s paradise?”
Alison stopped and looked around the parking lot of her research center from where she was standing. The warm sun was well off the horizon and a refreshing breeze wafted through the palm trees overhead. “It’s a beautiful morning. I tried to call you last night but got your voicemail.”
Clay pulled the phone away and looked at it again. He hadn’t noticed the small icon indicating a new message. “I’m sorry. I’m downstairs in Borger’s lab where there’s not much signal. We’ve been tied up most of the night.”
“Most of the night?” Alison asked, a hint of concern in her voice. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Not really. I’m too nervous to fall asleep in Borger’s lab. I’m afraid he’ll try to put something on my head and scan me.”
She laughed. “Well, you must be exhausted. I’m really sorry.”
Clay reached the top of the stairs and opened a door, stepping this time into a carpeted hallway. “That’s all right. Talking to you is perking me up.” When he looked back at the phone, he also noticed Alison had used the special encryption application like he’d shown her. The slight delay in their conversation confirmed it.
“You’re such a smooth-talker. Almost as smooth as your friend Steve who showed up here yesterday, by the way. And unannounced I might add.”
“Oh, right. Sorry about that. I meant to warn you.”
“Warn me is right,” she teased. “We had a very interesting conversation.”
“Well, Steve’s an interesting guy,” Clay joked, pulling open the door to the small vending room. The place was empty.
“I presume you know why he was here.”
“I do.” Clay closed the door behind him. He promptly punched a button on the machine for his coffee, then reached over and opened the door of a refrigerator. Inside were two cases of Jolt cola with a large piece of paper taped to the top. On the paper was a scribbled message that read: “Do not drink! Property of Wil Borger!” Clay always wondered why Borger felt compelled to label his drinks when no one else on the floor would drink them. “So,” he continued, “how did it go?”
“Probably not as well as Steve was hoping. DeeAnn’s still having a pretty hard time. She wasn’t very receptive. But Steve didn’t push her too hard. Oh, and speaking of DeeAnn, there’s something else I haven’t told you yet. She’s leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“Yes. She’s taking Dulce back to the Gorilla Foundation in California. She’s been really shaken up by all this, and unfortunately, I can’t stop her.”
Clay sighed and pulled his coffee out of the dispenser. He set it on the counter next to two cans of Borger’s Jolt. “No talking her out of it, huh?”
“I’ve tried. Believe me. She’s going and there’s nothing I can do to change her mind. I think there’s more going on with her than she’s telling me.”
Clay stared grimly at the wall. “Then I guess our visit didn’t help matters much.”
“Uh, no.”
“I’m sorry, Ali. We should have anticipated that. We were hoping for a different reaction.”
“What’s happening, John?”
Clay grinned. There was always something sweet in the way she said his first name.
“Things are happening pretty quickly here. Some of our assumptions about South America and the Bowditch were not accurate. And we’ve uncovered a few other surprises as well.”
“Steve said the man who kidnapped DeeAnn and Juan is dead. Blanco. And the person who killed him knows everything.”
“It looks that way. But that’s only part of the problem.” Clay wished he could tell her more, but he had to keep it to things in which Alison was already involved. She had been there in Brazil with him, Caesare, and Borger. She saw the same thing they had. And she also knew about the plants the Chinese had found and were smuggling out of the jungle.
“So how were things left there?”
“DeeAnn stormed out, clearly upset. But Steve didn’t push any further. Instead, he visited the guys and played with Dulce a little before he and the other men left.” She continued when Clay remained silent on the other end. “Does this mean I’m not going to see you for a while?”
“Probably not. I’m sorry. Things look like they’re unraveling on us. Without DeeAnn, our job is going to be much harder. I’m sure Steve told you that we don’t have a lot of time.”
“He did.” She tried to inject a little humor. “Maybe I could call Admiral Langford and call in my favor.”
She was surprised when Clay laughed.
“I don’t think you want to waste it on me,” he replied.
“Oh, don’t kid yourself. I’m saving it, but I’m definitely saving it for you.”
“Then let’s wait until your odds are better.” Clay changed the subject back to DeeAnn. “So listen, there’s a lot I can’t tell you, but I need you to try to work on DeeAnn for me. Without her and Dulce, we’re going to have a pretty big problem.”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“Thanks. Unfortunately, I need to get back downstairs. Can I call you tonight?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“What’s a good time?”
This time, he knew Alison was smiling on the other end. “Anytime is a good time.”
“Okay. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“I’m holding you to it. Bye.”
Clay hung up and glanced at his watch. Caesare and the other SEALs should have already arrived and began their preparations in Dam Neck, Virginia. They were running out of time and Clay hoped Alison could help bring DeeAnn around. Finding that capuchin monkey was a long shot, even with DeeAnn and Dulce’s help. Without them, it would be virtually impossible.
Alison may have appreciated that Caesare didn’t push DeeAnn too hard, but the truth was it was a courtesy. They would avoid forcing her if they could. But when it came right down to it, if Alison couldn’t persuade DeeAnn, the only option left would be to bring her by force.
15
It was past midnight and Clay was still peering at the brightly lit laptop screen. Just a couple hours before, he and Borger had finally returned to their homes to rejuvenate with the help of a quick shower.
After finding several vulnerable state-owned servers in China, Borger began the process of worming his way inside while Clay investigated something else. A missing piece that continued to eat at him.
The Russian submarine Forel was still a mystery. The sub was supposed to have been decommissioned a few years earlier. However, since the CIA had classified the sub as a low threat, it fell off the radar of the Department of Defense and was replaced by newer R&D subs in Russia’s fourth and fifth generation classes.
Yet not only had the Forel mysteriously reemerged, it did so carrying a very different technology than originally outfitted.
Something wasn’t adding up. Why would the Russians keep an old submarine when the majority of its fleet was more modern and advanced? Clay suspected the capture of the Forel off the coast of South America had taken the Russians themselves by surprise.
But if the Russians found out what the Chinese were up to in Guyana and wanted to spy on them, they had better subs with which to do it. All the evidence was quickly supporting Clay’s suspicion that the Russian government was not aware of the Forel’s rebirth.
He sat back in his chair, thinking. The only light in the apartment came from the dining room chandelier above him. The darkened living room on the other side of his table was clean and neat. A leather couch and coffee table faced a broad, simply decorated wall with a wide flat-panel television fixed several feet above the fireplace. Neither the fireplace nor the television had been used in months.