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Conner took her position at the other end of the table facing Parker. Stu sat in the middle of the three chairs on the flank, next to Cordon. Conner noted that careful choice of position: Stu wasn’t throwing himself totally in her camp until he saw which way the wind blew.

Parker greeted her, starting the clock. “Ms. Young, Stu tells me you’ve dug up something interesting and that you think it’s worthy of more investigation.”

“Yes, sir, I have.” Without further ado, she presented her information, laying it out concisely and in what she hoped was an intriguing manner. The three let her speak for five minutes without an interruption.

Done, she leaned back in her chair and waited. No one spoke, waiting for some indication of how Parker felt. The man in question rubbed his chin and then smiled. “Very interesting. Sounds dark and mysterious. I like that. But.” He pronounced the last word very clearly. “But, we really don’t have anything solid to run with. You say your sister does not wish to be used either as a source or even as an anonymous conduit of hard copy information.”

‘They check people going in and out of the Records Center,” Conner explained. “Even if she was able to sneak out the photos, if we used them in a story, it wouldn’t be hard for the government to find out where they came from and backtrack that to Samantha.”

“What about one of these engineer fellows?” Cordon asked.

Legere cut in, not allowing Conner to answer. “No good. We’re talking about something that’s twenty-five years old. People aren’t interested in some old fart standing in front of a camera recounting a story about a mysterious base in Antarctica.

“However,” Legere beamed a frosty smile down the table toward Conner, “if we did have something solid — a document, say, or especially these photos — I think it might make a good five-minute spot. We might be able to stir up enough reaction to justify further digging by one of my people. Antarctica is an interesting topic as far as audience reaction goes. The last frontier sort of thing.”

Conner pressed her case. She wanted more than a five-minute spot, and it was her story. If Legere got her way it would basically mean that Conner had wasted everyone’s time here, and she was sure Parker would remember that in a negative light. “I think we might be able to work the treaty violation angle.”

Parker was tapping a finger against his upper lip. “My big question is: what did they build down there? We’re talking 1971. Nixon is president. Vietnam is going down the tubes. The country is in bad shape and we have something secret being built in Antarctica. Maybe some sort of radar setup?” Parker roused himself from his musings. “Oh, well. It doesn’t matter. We don’t have enough to go with, I’m afraid. You really don’t have any hard evidence, Ms. Young. Nice—”

Conner took the plunge and cut in. “The tail number of an air force plane that was reported missing in action on 21 December 1971 in Vietnam is the same tail number of a plane that filed a flight plan out of McMurdo on 21 December 1971.” Conner knew she was speaking too quickly and tried to slow down. “I checked FAA records. Those men were the only people who knew where Eternity Base was, and all five are currently listed as MIA in Vietnam.” Conner had the room’s undivided attention. “Whatever they were doing was important enough to cover up the loss of five men. And those men did not disappear in Vietnam.” Conner looked Parker in the eye. “What if I find out what was built there?”

Legere swiveled her gaze at the reporter. “How?”

Conner played her last card. “I go there.”

“What!” exclaimed Legere.

“We send some people down there and find the place.”

“That’s if it still exists,” Legere countered.

“I believe it does,” Conner said.

“Huh? You believe!” Legere shook her head. “Young lady, do you know how much it would cost to mount a team to go to Antarctica? It’s the end of the world, for God’s sake.”

“We could get logistical support from Our Earth.” Conner had just finished talking to Devlin and he’d promised his help. But she knew that these people would be as leery as Stu about getting mixed up with Our Earth.

Parker raised his bushy eyebrows. “Our Earth? How are they involved?”

“They’re not involved, sir. But they have experience in the Antarctic. They run a year-round station near McMurdo Base, and McMurdo served as the supply conduit for Eternity Base. They are the only nongovernment organization to have such a setup on the continent. They have both ship and plane capability. The only expenses we would incur would be transportation to New Zealand. Our Earth would take care of logistical support from there on out — with no professional compromise. We can do the story however we like.

“Additionally,” Conner continued, “even if we somehow don’t find Eternity Base, we still can pick up enough other stories to make the trip worthwhile. There’s the French airstrip story. The Japanese and Korean whaling fleets, which those countries claim are operated only for scientific purposes. The new treaty and its effect on research down there.” She’d been told it was best to have more than one plan when you briefed Parker. She could see him finally crack a slight smile.

“How will you find this place if no one knows where it is?” Cordon asked quietly.

“I’ll find it,” Conner answered firmly.

“But how?” Legere dug in. “We can’t send you off on some wild goose chase.”

Parker smiled fully then. “Who said it would be you, if we sent anyone, Ms. Young?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “All right. I think the cover-up on the loss of that aircraft is significant enough to make it worth our looking into. People haven’t totally forgotten the MIA issue, and that could be a good lead-in. Even if you don’t find the base, the story on the plane might be worthwhile if you can find out something more.”

The CEO turned to Legere. “Do it. One standard overseas team.” He looked into Conner’s eyes. “You can have ten days from departure to return. Get me something.” With that he stood and left the room, followed by Cordon.

Legere paused in the doorway. There was no smile on her face. “I’ll contact you first thing in the morning about your team.” Her voice dropped the temperature in the room a few degrees.

Stu was left sitting there with his newest reporter, not having said a word the entire time. Now he looked at her and shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Conner. Do you know what you just did? I mean, even if you find the damn place, who’s to say there’s anything important there now? It could be a garbage dump for all we know.”

Conner knew she’d put her entire career on the line. “You’re the one who said this was an up or out business, Stu. You can go up only if you take chances.” She gathered her files and left the conference room.

As she walked back to her cubicle she thought about what had just happened. If she didn’t find Eternity Base she’d be lucky to find a job reading the local news on a small-town cable channel. Conner shook her head. Now was the time to think positively. If — no, not if — but when — she found Eternity Base, she was determined that she would have a story, whatever it might be.

* * *

Conner was at the end of her rope. The phone had turned into an enemy for the past hour, eliciting no useful information. She picked it up one more time and dialed.

“Records Center. Samantha Pintella,” a voice drawled on the other end.

“Sammy, I need your help.”