"They've seen enough action to know what they're doing," King said. "They had me dead to rights. I just got lucky."
Keasling nodded. "And they're connected. That's the real reason for the rush." He looked at Aleman. "Open the second file."
The videos and images disappeared, replaced by an open folder with a single text document labeled "Clients." The text document opened and a list of names, addresses, and phone numbers appeared on the screen. King didn't recognize the first three names, but after that it was a veritable who's who of terrorism and third-world dictators.
Keasling scratched his head, then leaned his hands on the tabletop. "If even one of these organizations got their hands on this technology, even in its unperfected stage, it could drastically shift the balance of power in the world. And if what they took from the U.N. dig site helps them finish the job, we may be running out of time."
"This is official, then?" Queen asked.
With a nod, he added, "Deep Blue is putting together the logistics and coordinating with the necessary forces. So put your tags back on if you haven't already."
"And George?" King asked.
Keasling sighed. "As much as all of us want you to get your friend back, he's got to take a backseat for now."
King ground his teeth. He knew the call was the right one, but that didn't make it an easier pill to swallow. King's only consolation was that they had taken Pierce in the first place. That meant he had something to offer them. He pictured the crazed and bloodied woman from the video, fearing that they'd simply taken Pierce as a test subject. He forced the thought from his mind. They'd taken him specifically, for a reason. But they'd kill him eventually. Of that, King had no doubt.
"Don't worry, King," a familiar voice said, coming from the room's speakers. They knew he'd been listening, as he always did for briefings. But the mysterious Deep Blue tended to stay silent until he had information to divulge or something important to say. "We'll get your friend back."
The screen filled with a silhouetted figure. It was all any Delta operator had ever seen of the man. His general shape showed him to be physically fit and his neatly outlined head revealed him to be either bald or on his way there. His keen sense of strategy and amazing connections hinted at a history in the military, possibly highly decorated. Other than that, they knew nothing about the man except that he was their lifeline, their eye in the sky, and could seemingly mobilize every branch of the military at a whim. King knew the faces of every general who fit the bill and not one of them matched the silhouette on-screen. Of course, King knew, it could easily be a body double.
"You sound confident," King said.
An image appeared on-screen, covering Deep Blue's form. The satellite image showed three small islands surrounded by nothing but blue. "The three islands are Nightingale Island, Inaccessible Island, and the one we're interested in, Tristan da Cunha." The image zoomed in directly over Tristan da Cunha, revealing it as a fairly round island sporting a massive volcanic cone at its center. "The island was formed by volcanic activity. It last erupted in 1961. The island was evacuated, but little damage was done to the settlement. The residents returned in 1963 and the volcano has been quiet since. The only military history we have with the island occurred in 1958. We detonated an atomic bomb not far from the island as part of Operation Argus, which became public knowledge in 2006. We've been fairly unwelcome on the island since, as we never told them about the test or offered to help monitor any potential side effects. For that reason, and that the island is a British territory, we need to keep our presence on the island under wraps. Our friends in the U.K. might not take too kindly to an invasion of their soil, even if it is five thousand miles away from the Queen."
The view zoomed in again, showing a small port town on the northwest side of the island. "Tristan has one settlement. Edinburgh of the Seven Seas. Total population, two hundred seventy-one. Eighty families total. The settlement has grown slowly over the past hundred years, but two years ago a small airport appeared along with this… "
A quick slide to the right showed a large, modern complex. Next to it, a long airstrip stretched off-screen. "The facility belongs to a company named Beta Incorporated, which we believe is a dummy corporation for Manifold."
"Assuming this is where you're sending us," King said, "what makes you think this is where they went?"
The image focused over the empty airstrip. "This picture was taken early this morning." The image updated. A large 747 sat on the airstrip. "This was taken an hour ago. To fly a 747 to an island that is two thousand miles from the nearest continent would take an in-flight refueling. There aren't many companies in the world that can arrange that. Manifold most certainly could."
"So," Rook said, stroking his long blond goatee, "if this island is in the middle of nowhere and we need to get there ASAP without getting shot to hell by landing on their airstrip, what's the plan? I mean, I'm assuming you're going to be tossing us out of another plane, but I'd like to avoid any more close encounters with tree limbs if at all possible."
"You'll be rendezvousing with the USS Grant. The Grant is a new CVNX class aircraft carrier. She's state of the art, really impressive, but we haven't worked out all the kinks yet. She's accompanied by a full battle group, though, so short of a world war, you shouldn't have any problems. We're just lucky they were out there running tests on the girl or we'd be stuck. Bishop, Rook, and Knight. You will be taking a small boat and landing on the back side of the island. You will keep watch on the settlement from above and provide backup for King and Queen who will pose as a couple circling the globe on their yacht. Disguises and identities will be provided upon arrival."
"So you're tossing us out of a plane then, right?"
"If you miss the aircraft carrier the Atlantic will soften your landing."
"Don't think I can't see you smiling, Blue Boy."
"Wheels up in one hour," Deep Blue said. "Better take your Be-nadryl now, Rook. I'll be in touch." The screen went blank.
"When I find out who that guy is," Rook said with a smirk. "Right to the moon."
"You heard the man," Keasling said. "Go take a crap or whatever you have to do to get ready. I want you back here in thirty minutes."
King watched as the team exited the room. They joked and prodded each other, reinforcing the sense of family that would keep them frosty and thinking of their teammates' safety while on mission. But he couldn't bring himself to take part. As strong as his connection was to the members of his team, his connection to Pierce was even stronger. With revenge on his mind, King found it hard to focus on much else, and that, he knew, could be dangerous for all of them.
Bishop paused at the door and looked back at King. He'd been silent, as usual, throughout the entire briefing. He held King's gaze, making sure he had his full attention. "We'll find him. We'll bring him back." Then he left with the others.
Somehow, coming from Bishop, the words rang true. They would find Pierce, of that King had no doubt. But whether or not they'd be bringing him home in a body bag, well, that was another issue.
NINETEEN
Pierce stood in front of a five-foot-square window, staring out at an endless expanse of ocean. He knew they were on an island, but where in the world, he had no idea. His third-story room provided him with a view of the airstrip they'd landed on, a patch of grass beyond, and then one hundred eighty degrees of ocean. He had yet to see any indigenous animals or birds that might hint at a location, and the only flora he'd seen was the grass, which helped about as much as a toothpick in a knife fight.