This unholy alliance teamed, as they’d done before, to re-configure a private Cessna 150 for a new purpose. Franklin had bought it from a pilot in Prescott, AZ two days earlier and flown it to the retired Air Force landing strip.
Winston came to the site in a Winnebago he’d rented in Denver. Along the way he stopped at various hardware stores and Walmarts, purchasing everything on his specific shopping list.
Conrad had the more difficult job. He was in charge of delivering the package that the Cessna would soon carry. For his part, he had to drive extremely carefully and not raise suspicion. For a man with a short temper and deadly intent, he was extremely cautious.
They were a day-and-a-half away from finishing. It went without saying that with only one pass, everything would have to work.
“Do I look like the bank?” Bellamy said sitting behind her desk. She motioned for her uninvited and now seemingly broke guests to sit in the twin high back chairs that faced her.
McCauley nodded in the affirmative. “As a matter of fact.”
“You son of a bitch, Quinn McCauley.”
“Allow me to explain to Dr. Alpert. Marli is filthy rich.”
“Quinn!” Bellamy exclaimed.
“Old family money and new personal causes make for a remarkable philanthropist,” he continued. “None better.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. “Flattery doesn’t mean you’re going to get a dime.”
“Not a dime, Dr. Bellamy,” Katrina said. “We’re in trouble and we need cash. A lot.”
McCauley started to speak up.
“No, not you, Quinn.” Marli focused on Katrina. “I like this woman. Go on.”
“It’s serious,” she admitted.
“How serious?”
“Very. Our credit and debit cards have been cancelled. No, co-opted, hacked. And we have to get back to Montana. God only knows where we’ll go from there. Quinn said you were the only person he could trust.”
Marli laughed. “I’m also the only person he knows in LA. But tell me why.”
“You don’t want to know. Not really. Let’s just say we uncovered something that’s caused a little stir.”
McCauley shivered at the understatement. “Trust us, Marli, less is best.”
“What the hell did you find?” Bellamy asked not letting up. “A new species? The Holy Grail?”
“Neither,” McCauley laughed. He ran through the high points, describing the discovery in general and the questions they had. Then they got to the bombing at Greene’s.
“That was you?” she exclaimed. “I heard about it on the news.”
“That’s us,” Alpert offered lightly.
“See, you’re better off not knowing more, Marli. If anyone asks, you never even saw us.”
Dr. Bellamy looked at a picture on her desk. It was her graduation photo from Harvard, a graduation that Quinn McCauley had a big hand in. After a half minute she stood.
“Will you excuse me? I’ve got to make a bank run. In the meantime, grab something in the commissary,” she smiled, “if you can afford it.”
Forty-four
The choices were limited. Six-plus hours out of LAX, Burbank or Ontario and four flights to get back to Glendive’s Dawson Community Airport, or…
“I’m booking you on a private jet out of Van Nuys,” Marli said.
“No you’re not,” McCauley argued.
“Yes I am. Based on the nothing you’ve shared, better you don’t mingle with the riff raff.”
“But the expense?” he said.
“Mark up my transcript to an A+,” the former student responded. “I’ll call us even.”
She counted out the cash. “Here’s your money. In 50s and 100s. But you’re going to need some plastic. I can give you…”
“No. Nothing with your name on it. We’ll pick up some pre-paid credit cards at a 7-11 or a few supermarkets.”
Katrina was impressed.
“Can we get a cab downstairs?”
“Yes, but no. I’m driving and I’ll book the plane on the way.” Marli checked her watch. “It’s 1:30 now. We should get you out no later than four or five.”
“How far is Van Nuys?”
“It’s in the Valley. If there’s no traffic, which there shouldn’t be at this hour, it’ll be about forty minutes.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Katrina said.
“Just take care of Quinn, will you? I have a soft spot for endangered species.”
They took off at 4:45 in a Citation 5. The winds were with them and the captain said they’d land at 8:25 P.M. Mountain Time. A few hours later, Quinn and Katrina cleared arrival. They were met by Al Jaffe who had gotten McCauley’s text from one of his new phones.
“How was the flight?”
“Bumpy,” Katrina quickly complained. “Small plane. Not my favorite. And I always worry about them crashing.”
Forty-five
Winston reviewed the photographs he’d tacked up on the hangar wall. He had no doubt he’d programmed the right coordinates into the GPS, but real-time corrections were inevitable. It would have been far easier if the mission could have been accomplished with a military drone.
A simple commercial observational drone, such as the Puma AE, about the size of an adult golden eagle wouldn’t cut it. They needed military strength. But what they had in the works had been field-proven and effective. Moreover, it offered a good cover story.
Franklin guaranteed the Cessna would be flying in another day. Winston was finalizing his guidance system strap-ons. Conrad had to wait for them to finish before he brought the most critical part of the assignment onboard — the payload.
They worked with light and electricity from the Winnebago. It was not particularly hard, but extremely precise. Except for Conrad’s contributions and Franklin’s flying, the rest could have been accomplished by very smart high school robotics students and a teacher with deniability.
Forty-six
Jaffe led McCauley alone to the site. The professor looked across the landscape.
“Damn! Good work, Al. No mistaking it. Better than I could have imagined.”
“It didn’t take much, doc. You pointed me in the right direction. Have to say, I found it exciting.”
“What about the others?”
“Busy with, what do they say, their own knitting.”
“That’s what they say.”
“Doc, what do you think?”
“In all honesty?”
“Honesty would be good.”
McCauley scanned the valley from where they entered to the far end. “The best thing we can do is bug out.”
“No argument from me.”
“But while we’re here, do me a favor, Al. Take a couple of pictures.” He pointed. “There, there, and there.”
“Cell okay?”
“Perfect. Couple of wide shots.”
Jaffe snapped the first shot which showed the cliff, the ladder leading up to an opening, the generators on the ground, and the power cables. He took another, turning the camera sideways, which he liked better.
“Any videos? I can do those, too.”
“Why not? Hold the shot for about twenty seconds.”
“K. Wanna be in the videos?”
McCauley considered it, then thought better of the idea. “Nah. Just the landscape.”
“Give me bit. I’ll have it all.” He walked around and got everything McCauley wanted. A few minutes later Jaffe was back at his supervisor’s side.
“Want me to send these to you?”