“He authorized the extra millions to build an adjunct, highly classified, smaller facility next to the NORAD base. It was the logical place for such a facility, as we could easily tap into one of the underground, secure communications tunnels that connected the larger base with the outside world, and thus be able to communicate and be hooked into NORAD.”
The chopper was just about to touch down on the small landing pad. Dalton could see Jackson waiting for them, hand raised to protect her eyes against the blade downwash. She was seated in what appeared to be a golf cart.
“The Ranch, which is what Johnson christened it, is over two miles away from the main NORAD and Space Command complex. Besides communications, we tap into them for power, water, and sewage. There’s enough food stocked in the Ranch to keep a group of a dozen going for a year. It’s been running since NORAD was established, and no one has ever noticed the power or water drain because it’s never changed since the first day NORAD began.”
The wheels touched down.
“Have you told Barnes and Jackson about Nexus yet?” Dalton asked.
“No. They’ve been busy setting up the isolation tubes.”
As Mentor reached for the handle to slide the door open, Dalton halted him. “Are you going to tell them?”
“That’s not my decision.” Mentor opened the door and Dalton and Hammond followed him out. As soon as they were clear, the Blackhawk lifted. Within a minute, silence reigned.
Jackson greeted Dalton with a smile. “Good to see you again.”
Dalton smiled. “I think we’ve broken you for the military.” He took Hammond ’s arm and helped her into the front passenger seat, before hopping in the back with Mentor. Jackson drove them through the tunnel doors, which swung shut behind them. Red lights came on overhead.
“The Ranch is a quarter mile ahead,” Mentor said. “In the old days, that was thought deep enough to survive a direct nuke hit on the mountain. Nowadays, we know precision strategic nuclear weapons could take out Space Command and in the process probably destroy the Ranch also.”
“Do you live here?” Dalton asked as they came to a second set of large steel doors.
“The Ranch was left unoccupied since 1966. It was thought that was the best way to keep it safe.”
“Why open it now?” Dalton asked. “Because we needed to relocate Bright Gate?”
“I was here when you called,” Mentor said. “As soon as I realized we had been compromised in Washington, I moved here and opened the facility up.”
They were in a cavern about two hundred meters in circumference with a ceiling forty feet high. Four steel buildings were directly in front of them. The walls of the cavern were lined with thousands of crates, which Dalton had to assume held supplies.
Mentor pointed at the buildings one by one. “Billets and galley. Communications and science center. President’s quarters, which we’ve stripped out and placed the isolation tubes in. War room with direct links to the operations center in Space Command. Everything they see on their displays we can see in there.”
Dalton helped Hammond out of the cart. “Why were you here when I called?” he asked Mentor.
“Because I’m all that’s left of Nexus in the United States. Everyone else is dead.”
“Who’s doing the killing?” Dalton asked.
“The Priory.”
“What about the Ring?” Dalton asked.
“I’m not sure what they’re up to.”
“How did the Ring destroy the last Psychic Warrior team that went to Colombia?”
“The woman who basically started Bright Gate and HAARP now works for the Ring. They’ve developed a virtual plane projector called Aura. We’re not sure where it’s located.”
“So both sides are working on the same type of weapon?”
“We’re not sure the Mithrans are designing Aura specifically to be a weapon,” Mentor said. “They might be developing it to do the opposite of Bright Gate-if they exist on the virtual plane, they might be developing Aura so that they can come into the real plane. Using it as a weapon is just a by-product.”
Dalton considered that. “So both sides are doing the same thing so they can go to the other side’s plane and fight them?”
Mentor nodded. “As near as I can tell, that’s what appears to be happening. If the Priory can uplink to MILSTAR and transmit on the virtual plane, they can target the Mithrans. And they can target the entire human race. If the Mithrans can use Aura to come out of the virtual and have real form, they can directly attack the Priory. And, in turn, the entire human race. So the war might be between the two groups, but the collateral damage will most likely be the destruction of life as we know it.”
20
Valika bid farewell to Gregory, knowing that she would never see him again. She expected he would be on some South Seas island within a couple of days with a new identity, along with the rest of his mercenaries.
As the Lear lifted off the runway at Granby, she was considering whether the mission had really been a failure. She was glad that they hadn’t recovered the Bright Gate equipment and that Raisor was gone. She wasn’t certain she liked the direction things were moving in. Psychic Warriors, being able to appear anywhere out of the virtual plane and take action-she had a feeling that might make her and her unique skills obsolete. It was best to be done with it all.
On a more professional level, she also hadn’t trusted Raisor. She wondered if he was really gone, or if he was able to survive on the virtual plane without his body. It was a question she would have to ask Souris. From her own experience she knew that once someone betrayed what they had sworn obedience and fealty to, the second betrayal would be much easier.
“A helicopter. Now? At night?” Lonsky rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
“I’ve got the crew clearing the pad,” Zenata said. “It’s due in five minutes.”
Lonsky stood, his uniform wrinkled. “Do you have it on radar?”
“Not yet. It might be flying low, near the waves.”
Lonsky’s cabin was just behind the bridge, so it only took them a few seconds to make it there. He went left, out onto the wing, which gave him a view toward the rear of the ship. He couldn’t see the landing pad, but he could see the glow, which meant the landing lights were on.
“I wonder what the proper etiquette is,” he said to Zenata. “Should a captain go greet his new owner, or should the new owner come to the captain on his bridge? How does it work?”
“I would say it would depend on what kind of impression you want to make,” Zenata said.
“We have an inbound helicopter on radar,” one of the crew announced. “ETA two minutes.”
Lonsky looked toward the bow. They could see the red and green running lights of the aircraft as it approached. It flew by quickly on the port side, then swung around and disappeared as it landed on the aft deck.
“I think I will meet halfway,” Lonsky said.
“A smart choice,” said Zenata.
“You have the bridge.” Lonsky grabbed the handrails for the ladder that led down to the main deck and swung onto it. He headed along the side of the ship, the massive radar dishes looming above him, blocking out the stars. He saw one of his crewmen approaching leading another figure. Lonsky stopped and waited.