“So maybe all the money and properties came in after he bought the silo,” said Robie. “Or if he bought the silo, since you can’t confirm that.”
“And he got married twelve months ago. I dug into that, too. His wife was a lingerie model before their marriage, with a reputation for being very difficult to work with.”
“What a shock,” said Reel.
“So maybe the silo is his financial golden goose somehow,” said Robie.
“Well, it would have to be a pretty big goose,” said the man. “The house in the Hamptons has a twelve-million-dollar mortgage on it. The plane lease is millions more. He must have had sound financial resources for the bank and aircraft lessor to do those deals.”
“Plus he laid out about four million for the luxury condo,” said Reel. “And I think his wife will end up being his most expensive purchase. What was the purchase price for the other site?”
“Eight hundred thousand.”
“That’s double what Roark paid for his,” noted Reel.
“That’s a lot of money for basically a hole in the ground that has no use unless you pour millions of dollars into it,” said Robie. “There aren’t many people competing to buy these suckers.”
“That’s true,” said the agency man. “But someone wanted this site. I looked at other places in the Midwest and this fetched one of the highest prices.”
“We’re going to have to find out why that is,” said Reel grimly.
She clicked off.
Robie said, “We’ll have to recon the site first, size up the security overlays.”
“If this place has a blast door like Lambert’s I don’t see how we get in.”
“Maybe if we’re patient enough someone will let us in.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think we’re that lucky.”
“I didn’t think luck had anything to do with it.”
“I think now it does.”
“Well, then we’ll make our own.”
CHAPTER
61
There couldn’t have been a greater contrast between the second silo site and the one Lambert had turned into luxury condos. There was an old chain-link fence, but there was no perimeter security. The road into the site was barely graveled and in poor condition. From here they couldn’t even see the entrance to the silo.
There was no sign that anyone was around.
“Could the residue you saw on those work boots be from that gravel?” asked Robie.
“Pull up a little bit,” said Reel.
He did so, and she climbed out of the car with the rag she had used to take a sample from the boots.
She knelt down over the gravel and dabbed it with the cloth. She climbed back into the car and used her phone light to compare the marks.
“It’s sort of gravelly but it’s not the same, Robie.” She sniffed the fresh sample. “And there’s no chemical smell.”
“Where would there be gravel with a chemical smell around here?”
“I don’t know. Let’s park the truck behind those trees and have a look around.”
After leaving the truck hidden, they scaled the fence and dropped down onto the other side.
There were no sounds, no lights, no one.
They skittered forward, keeping low to the ground.
“Why would you pay eight hundred thousand for this place and do nothing with it?” asked Robie.
“When Lambert paid half that for his site and did something with it to make money,” added Reel.
They made their way forward staying parallel to the gravel road, and about a quarter of a mile later they crossed a small knoll and there it was.
“Blast door straight ahead,” whispered Reel.
Robie stopped and nodded. He slipped his night optics out and took in a full view of the area in front of them.
“Looks deserted,” he said. “The gravel hasn’t been disrupted. I don’t think a vehicle’s been along here.”
“Then why buy it in the first place?” said Reel. “If not to use it somehow. And if you’re going to rehab it, you have to go inside.”
“And there would be lots of evidence of that sort of activity.”
“Maybe there’s another way into the place.”
He looked at her incredulously. “Another way into an Atlas missile site? Doesn’t that sort of defeat the purpose?”
“I didn’t say it had always been there. Maybe whoever bought it made another entrance somehow,” pointed out Reel.
Robie pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?” asked Reel.
“Trying to find a back door.”
He phoned the Agency again and made his request.
When he clicked off Reel said, “You think another entrance is possible then?”
He looked around. “I think anything in this godforsaken place is possible.”
Ten minutes later his phone buzzed. Robie listened, asked a few questions, and then clicked off. He turned to Reel. “Let’s go find Blue Man.”
CHAPTER
62
“An abandoned rock quarry?” said Reel. “I didn’t know they even quarried rock here.”
They were hunched down in the darkness, staring at the quarry on the west side of the former Atlas missile site perhaps owned by Scott Randall. Reel had her sniper rifle slung over one shoulder and a small duffel over the other.
Robie said, “The Rockies aren’t that far away. And while this area is pretty flat, there are elevated portions. We passed that ridge right before we got there. So there’s got to be lots of deposits of rock around here. That quarry is really deep, but there’s an access road around its top lip and also a road to get there. Let’s go.”
They made their way toward the top edge of the quarry site and looked around.
“Lots of ‘no trespassing’ signs,” said Robie.
“Not that anyone would want to come up here.”
“Which probably makes it ideal if you’re doing something illegal.”
“How do we tell if this is the right place?” asked Reel.
In answer, Robie stooped, rubbed his hand across the rocky ground, and then sniffed it. He held it up for Reel to smell.
“Same chemical odor,” she observed. “Must be from whatever they were using here at the quarry.”
“Look at your shoes.”
He hit her shoes with his flashlight.
“Like the residue I took from the boots at Randall’s place.”
Robie nodded and rose. “So that means those guys came here. The Agency satellite zoomed in on this place as a possibility when I told them about the chemical smell and the sort of soil residue we were talking about. The quarry was the only place in the area that might fit that criteria, they concluded.”
“But they couldn’t find an entrance?”
“No. But it would be well hidden, since that’s the whole point.”
“What do you think they’re doing in there?”
“I have no idea, but I intend to find out.”
He pulled out his gun, and using a flashlight he’d taken from the truck, he moved forward with Reel on his right flank.
The darkness was made complete by low-level clouds, which managed to fully obscure a three-quarter moon.
They had moved about fifty yards forward when Robie’s light hit on something. “There have been vehicles over here,” he said, pointing down at the slight ruts in the dirt.
“Well, they must be heading somewhere then,” replied Reel.
They followed the ruts past a small stand of trees.
“Robie, somebody’s cleared this area enough to run this ‘road’ through here.”
Robie nodded and looked around. “And I doubt anyone would even notice, because there’s no reason to come here.”
Another hundred feet in they cleared the trees, stopped, and knelt down. Robie powered up his optics and took a look around. A few moments later he said, “Son of a bitch.”