The standoff endured until someone turned off the hose, permitting Hurricane to push through the throng and come to Dodge’s defense. The agents fell back, but did not lower their weapons until another personage — this one wearing the full dress uniform of a United States Army General — advanced through their ranks. The latter addressed Dodge: “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Dalton back from the dead. I imagine you’ve quite a story to tell.”
Dodge lowered his hands and deactivated the device. “You have no idea.”
They took him into the White House, and while his treatment was deferential, Dodge had a sneaking suspicion that he was being regarded as a prisoner, not a guest. Given the circumstances, he accepted the handling without protest. Hurricane remained at his side, but no requests for information were forthcoming until he was secured in a windowless conference room. He surrendered the flying rig to a group of Secret Service men, and then collapsed wearily into a chair and began recounting his tale.
Except for an occasional request for clarification, he was not interrupted until his narrative touched on the matter of the amphibious aircraft. “That doesn’t sound like any plane I’ve ever heard of,” interjected General Vaughn.
Dodge spread his hands. “It’s what I saw. I can sketch it for you.”
A pencil and notepad was provided, upon which Dodge drew his best approximation of the flying boat that had whisked the President away. Vaughn gazed at the finely drawn image then turned to the knot of official looking men in suits. “Do you fellows know what this is?” His inquiry was received with a unanimous negative response. “This gentleman is the X-314. It’s been in development at Boeing for several years now; this is the prototype. It’s a long-range amphibious plane designed for intercontinental commercial air travel.”
“Intercontinental?”
Vaughn frowned. “Intercontinental as ‘in between continents;’ non-stop across the ocean. It has a range of 3,500 miles, nearly twice as far as the Sikorsky Clippers. The X-314 has this unique triple-tail design and these half-wings, called sponsons, which replace the typical catamaran-type pontoon floats that most other planes have on the wings. In addition to providing lifting surface and stability on the water, the sponsons hold reserve fuel tanks, increasing her range that much more.”
Dodge immediately caught on to his line of reasoning. “You’re saying they could take the President almost anywhere.”
The general frowned as if reluctant to share this information with a mere civilian, but nodded. “Our pursuit planes will have to turn back long before this fellow has burned up even a quarter of his fuel.”
“How did these rogues get their hands on this prototype?” asked one of the men. “And how do they know how to fly it?”
“Respectfully, Mr. Secretary, they seem to be able to accomplish anything they set their minds to.” The officer drummed his fingers on the table. “Mr. Dalton, is there anything else you can add that might help us unmask these conspirators?”
Dodge furrowed his brow. “The man I fought with said something — an oath I imagine — in a foreign language. It sounded like German —”
“Aha!” exclaimed the man Vaughn had spoken to. “What did I tell you?”
“— only I don’t think it was German,” Dodge finished. “It didn’t quite sound right. The only other thing I saw was the hooded man waiting on the barge.”
This statement had the effect of silencing the murmur that had arisen from the previous revelation, though for reasons Dodge could not fathom. Hurley was the first to speak, but said only: “The leader.”
Something about his big friend’s tone told Dodge that the assembled group was holding back a vital piece of information, but he continued his story, describing how the disc-shaped airship had shrunk to the size of pocket coin. “It was more like… magic, than any kind of scientific technology I’ve ever seen.”
This provoked another round of subdued discussion and hand-wringing, which was eventually curtailed by the general. “We’ve got one of the top scientists in the nation looking at that contraption you brought us. We’ll know soon enough what kind of technology our enemy has at his disposal. With any luck, we’ll learn where they’re taking the President and at the same time discover their Achilles Heel.”
He said it with such conviction that Dodge felt content to leave the whole mess in more capable hands. In the quiet that followed, he sensed the tacit agreement of the rest of the audience, but then a familiar voice broke the mood. “What about Captain Falcon?”
Every eye in the room focused on Hurricane’s earnest countenance.
“Falcon?” Dodge inquired. “What’s Falcon got to do with any of this?”
Vaughn waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “It doesn’t concern you, Mr. Dalton. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to excuse us now —”
“He should see it,” intoned Hurley, his voice almost a threatening growl. “He’s earned the right. God only knows he’s done more than any of us.”
The general was unmoved. “I won’t have this incident showing up in the funny papers.”
“It won’t,” Hurley promised.
“I’ve allowed you to stay because of your honored service to this country, but that is merely a courtesy. You’re a civilian now, Hurricane. So is he. Worse, he’s a journalist.”
Dodge was tired of the general’s game. With more confidence than he felt, he snarled: “What the devil is this all about?”
“The hooded man you saw left a film with his demands,” answered Hurley before the general could protest.
“A film?” Dodge’s mind raced to connect the puzzle pieces, but there remained one that just wouldn’t fit. “You still haven’t told me what any of this has to do with Falcon.”
“Show him the film,” growled Hurley.
To his credit, Vaughn kept a brave face — more than most men could have done transfixed in the menacing stare of Hurricane Hurley. The general knew, perhaps better than any man at the table, just how far the big man would go to get what he wanted. But before the battle of wills could escalate to physical conflict, the Secretary of the Treasury declared a truce. “Show him the film. It’s the least we can do.”
Dodge’s elation at being included in the inner circle quickly faded as he realized that he was being brought deeper into the crisis. He had imagined his role in the drama would be ended once his deposition was complete. Still, he was curious, especially since Captain Falcon seemed inexplicably linked with the President’s abduction.
Before they could adjourn however, a disturbance at the door froze Dodge in place. A slightly built man with frizzy hair was arguing with the Secret Service agents guarding the proceedings, but Dodge did a double-take when he saw that the man was wearing one of the exoskeletons. He started involuntarily, and quickly glanced about for some means to defend himself, but the anticipated pandemonium of a new attack by the raiders never materialized. Instead, General Vaughn approached the man and addressed him in a patient tone.
“What is it, Dr. Newcombe?”
“Ah, General, there you are.” The frizzy-haired man gazed out through the thickest spectacles Dodge had ever seen. He pushed past the guards and strode into the room. “This device is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Did you know that it can fly? You must tell me everything you know about it.”
“I’m afraid that information is top secret.”