In any case, during the trip he spotted about six different scientists or technicians dressed in white lab coats, not including Dr. Waters, who walked and talked with the curly-haired man, but including Pearl, the Englishwoman who had accompanied them on the plane.
No doubt more worked around the complex somewhere, but seeing only those six made him think that the research staff could not be that big; maybe about the size of one section at Darwin.
As for soldiers, he counted a dozen moving from place to place but knew three times that number had been involved on Tioga. Most carried AKMs and sidearms, as well as batons, although a few sported utility belts that might hold additional instruments. Most appeared of Asian descent, although he noted a few who looked more Polynesian and even one who was most likely either Indian or Pakistani.
He did not see any saluting, any rigid marches, or any sentries standing at stiff attention. Certainly they could be trained military — lord knew his Archangel team operated under a rather relaxed military code. Yet he wondered if this group might not be more mercenary than national army.
His ears provided an equal amount of valuable insight.
First, he caught pieces of the conversation between Waters and the man who apparently oversaw the entire operation. Gant heard Waters say things such as, "Spread patterns developed better than our simulations," and "counter agent performed as anticipated." At one point Waters nodded toward Gant and remarked, "despite unforeseen variables."
The base's public address system used a computerized voice to convey messages along the lines of, "Security team report to main entrance to receive inbound specimens," and "Satellite pass condition yellow: all personnel restricted indoors until all-clear."
Taken as a whole, Gant found this to be a small but well-funded operation with a high level of sophistication. Again, he thought of The Tall Company, although he did not think they were likely to go to such great lengths to remain invisible. Indeed, he would expect Tall to conduct these types of operations with the full blessing and financial support of the Defense Department. Unless, of course, this was something so far off the traditional grid that even Tall felt the need for absolute secrecy.
Whatever the truth, he and Dr. Stacy arrived at their next destination: an office on the far side of a sliding glass door. The furnishings included a big desk and several bookshelves, all crammed into an area the size of a small motel room.
Decorations included a shelf full of various flowers that smelled real, a wildlife painting depicting what might have been an eastern mixed forest complete with a prancing deer and a circling hawk, and a bookshelf dedicated to tomes covering biology, archeology, and mathematics.
As they entered, Thom spied a file folder on the desktop labeled "Cannibal Virus." The words gave him something he rarely felt: a chill.
He knew Waters and the people of this base had engineered the outbreak on Tioga, but to see that label on a file folder made him both angry and fearful. Here the death he had witnessed and the potential for even more widespread murder had been reduced to a file folder. It was everything he despised about the Dr. Frankensteins who lived in his world.
Waters excused himself but the guards remained, directing the two prisoners to chairs facing the desk, where the man in charge took a seat.
"My name is Terrance Monroe," he told them without a hint of drama as he pulled a slip of paper from the top drawer of his desk.
Gant glanced at Stacy, and for the second time on that strange day he saw that she appeared to recognize one of their antagonists, but before she could speak Monroe decided to share a few more names.
"It seems that, well, you are Major Thomas Gant," he read from the paper. "Interesting. You were a U.S. Marine but are now serving under Army jurisdiction as part of something called Task Force Archangel. The information I received suggests you are an Opposing Force operator engaged in war games and penetration testing and that you're based out of Fort Irwin, which would make sense. Still …" the man pushed his glasses higher on his nose and went on, "Umm, well, it's rather strange to find you on Tioga Island. So, that means either the Tioga constable spent a great deal of time and money arranging for one of the military's most advanced OpFor commanders to test security at a resort island in the middle of the Pacific, or there's more to you or Archangel than I was able to access."
Gant said nothing. He felt that even a wiseass comment would not be helpful. However, he took note of Monroe's cadence. The man tried to sound as if he were in control, but his voice wavered and stuttered, making him seem like he was in above his head. Indeed, based on appearances, Gant wondered if this man had not been in over his head the moment he moved out of his mother's basement.
Monroe faced his other prisoner and went on, "You were a little more difficult to track but eventually we identified you as Dr. Annabelle Stacy, civilian employee at Fort Irwin attached as a consultant to this Archangel thing. You have an impressive resume, Doctor, so I'm not sure why you're mixed up with the military. Rather a waste of what appears to be substantial intelligence."
Thom found himself growing agitated as Monroe's attention turned to Stacy. He did not mind being under the spotlight, but it bothered him to see Stacy face such scrutiny. Perhaps this was based on some twinge of chivalry.
"So who are you?" Gant disrupted the man's recital. "And what is this place?"
Monroe pushed his glasses up on his nose again and answered, "As I said, my name is, um, Terrance Monroe, and I am the director of this project. I am also the person who, well, is holding your fate in his hands. If you are cooperative than we can get through this. If not, well, you won't leave me with many choices."
"What kind of choices would those be?" Gant felt the anger build up again, especially as he sensed a certain amount of weakness in this man. Perhaps Terrance could be bullied. "Like the choices you gave those people back on Tioga Island? Death by gun or being poisoned with some kind of virus?"
"Virus?" Monroe echoed.
Stacy broke in, "What we saw on Tioga was no virus, Major."
Although their identities had already been discovered, hearing her say his rank rankled him and he shot her an angry glance but in that same moment softened again. Yes, there it was, he was bouncing between respecting her as a professional and looking out for her as a civilian.
Clearly she had passed a number of tests on this mission. She had controlled her fear, she had managed to push aside the horror and focus on the facts, and she remained in control despite having been taken prisoner by high-tech goons who were not shy about murder.
Yes, it seemed she had earned his respect. Could he treat her as an equal?
Thom realized that if they were to survive this, he must allow himself to see her as a comrade, not a civilian. Perhaps that was his test on this particular mission.
"Yes, it was a virus," Gant shot back.
"I'm not sure why — oh, you saw this," Monroe said and tapped the folder. "Sorry, Major, you have it a little backwards. What you saw on Tioga Island was not the work of a virus. No, in fact you could say it was the work of the anti-virus. The "Cannibal Virus" refers to the problem we are trying to correct."
Dr. Stacy supplied the rest of the answer: "It refers to man. Man is the cannibal virus."
"Very good." Monroe appreciated her answer.
"That was your book, wasn't it?" she went on, and as had been the case on the plane, Thom felt out of the loop. "Terrance Monroe, militant environmentalist. You wrote The Cannibal Virus a few years ago, referring to mankind's tendency to destroy itself; to consume resources and essentially cannibalize our means of survival. Honestly, using the virus metaphor for mankind is a little overdone, don't you think?"