Prichard set his coffee cup down. He was expecting something like that. As a matter of fact, he’d be disappointed if Street hadn’t brought it up. “I think I’d like our regulatory services manager to look that over carefully before we say something to the regulator that we might have to retract later. He’s knowledgeable on the CFRs. I’ll run that by him for you.”
Dave made his point, and covered his ass, but wasn’t going to argue with the VP, so he said simply, “Yes, sir.”
“Okay then,” Prichard said, indicating this portion of the meeting was wrapping up. “Nick, thank you very much. Please leave the report with my admin, Cathy. We’ll treat it as safeguards material. Cathy is cleared for handling it. Thanks again for all your help. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with my staff, please.”
Prichard got up, signaling that I should leave. So I shook his hand and walked out the door.
After Nick left, Hector turned to Prichard. “Who is this guy, exactly? All I know is that he’s a contract firm that tests security. I also know that this is just the public version. I have to say again, allowing him to come on site armed really has my team upset. And flying a helo in here… I’m not sure that’s even legal. What gives?”
Both Hector and Dave had legitimate issues that, if they went to the regulator or to the media, would cause Prichard a lot of problems. Hector was clearly agitated and didn’t like the use of contractors. Prichard knew that and gave him a little attitude latitude, but only to a point. He didn’t feel a need to explain himself to Hector but realized this wasn’t the time to pull Hector up short. To help soften things, he decided to offer some background on NeXus. Perhaps it would defuse Dave and Hector enough to let things settle down before they took any next steps.
“Nick used to be in Special Forces. I came across him in D.C. a while back, when I was at a meeting for industry executives and federal agencies. We were there to discuss security issues, and Nick was there. A couple of Washington types approached me about him and suggested that I might want to use him.”
Prichard got up and poured himself another cup of coffee from the thermos on a sideboard.
“Anyway, I had an opportunity to have dinner with him and I was very impressed with him and what he could do for us.” What Prichard didn’t say was that Nick was also very well connected. How high that went, even Prichard didn’t know. But he knew enough to know that Nick wasn’t going to get into any serious trouble for flying a helicopter in to test his defenses, and so, neither was he. Prichard looked at his security staff. They were listening, but he could tell they were still upset.
“Based on what we saw here in the last couple of days, I’d say this guy is very good at what he does, and we’d do well to pay attention. It’s money well spent. Personally, I find it hard to argue with Nick’s observations — or tactics, for that matter.”
While Prichard didn’t like the risk involved with the helo, he’d known in advance that Nick was going to use one. He and Nick had discussed it the day before the drill. He wanted Nick to take any heat that might develop for that aspect of the drill, and Nick had agreed. As vice president, it provided him with plausible deniability.
Turning to address Rob, he said, “I suggest we worry less about who Nick is and concentrate on what he’s telling us. I'd like your assessment of the drill and his report by the end of the week. You can pick it up from Cathy on your way out.”
Hector looked as though he wanted to say something, but Rob cut him off. “We’ll have the report looked over and get you our analysis by close of business Friday.”
“Good. If there isn’t anything else…?”
The group correctly took that to mean the meeting was finished.
CHAPTER 17
As I pulled back up to the cabin, my satellite phone rang. I answered in my usual curt manner by saying only “Connor.”
In the last couple of years, I’d put together a nice little operation. It was a niche market and one that paid well and provided a necessary service to the commercial nuclear power industry. So after eight years as a Green Beret, I formed NeXus and had been busy ever since. But not that many people have my phone number, so when it rang, it was generally important.
“Nick, this is Prichard. Seems one of my people here was just found dead and washed up on the Mendocino State Park Beach not far from the plant. A young woman. I’d like you to meet me there as soon as you can.” It was hard to tell if Prichard was upset or not. His voice was somber, but even, and didn’t show any telltale emotion.
“Yes sir.” I looked at my watch. “I’ll meet you in 30 minutes.”
I went inside the cabin and found Pete had set up an encrypted laptop, a printer, a satellite uplink, and made a makeshift high-tech communications center in this little cabin in the woods. “Come on. We have a development, and I want you along.”
Twenty-eight minutes later, we pulled into the Mendocino State Beach parking lot. Being a February morning and the middle of the week, both the beach and the parking lot were nearly empty. There were only a couple of old Nissans and Chevys, with luggage racks on top, belonging to some die-hard surfers who must have had nothing better to do during the middle of a workweek. Winter was the best time for storms, and with storms came large swells and surf. So you could see surfers out there regardless of the time of year, day of the week, or weather.
I parked next to Prichard’s BMW. Out on the beach I saw a group of grim-looking people standing over a blanket, under which I assumed was the dead woman. Prichard was already there, along with a county trooper, an ambulance, the medical examiner, and one of the surfers who I assumed was the one who found the woman. The northern California beaches were composed mostly of very coarse gravel, instead of the fine sand found on the beaches in southern California. Sea gulls and pigeons were pecking away at the seaweed and driftwood that had washed ashore. There were some concrete picnic tables clustered around installed barbecue pits. Despite the picnic tables and the barbecue pits, there was little trash on the beach. Typical of California, most people properly deposited their trash in the numerous trash bins and recycle containers located up and down the beach. Californians love to recycle things.
Prichard was talking with the trooper as Pete and I walked up. A man in a windbreaker was writing in his notebook, while the uniformed ambulance attendants waited around for someone to tell them what to do next.
“Thanks for coming, Nick. Sergeant, this is Nick Connor. He works for me,” Prichard said. He then looked over at Pete.
“Mr. Prichard, Pete Sturtevant, a member of my team,” I said by way of introduction.
Prichard shook Pete’s hand, saying, “Good to meet you, Pete,” and no doubt wondering how I got him up there so fast and, maybe more importantly, why.
I looked around and wondered how long it would take before all the ‘official’ people messed up the crime scene and any evidence it might be holding. I gave Pete a glance indicating I wanted him to get a closer look at the body and the area. Pete nodded slightly and moved off.
I went over and shook the trooper’s hand. “What’s the status here, Sergeant?” I asked politely enough, though no doubt with what would be taken as an air of authority.
The trooper looked at Pete walking away. I’m sure he wasn’t happy with having us being there, meddling in his business. But my guess was he’d already received a call from the county sheriff who told him to cooperate.