Ethan frowned thoughtfully.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘Seems that the law here considers Jesse guilty as hell and isn’t doing anything with the evidence already at hand. Sure, Randy’s suicide was clearly staged, but Gavin Coltz was killed by something far stronger than a human being. Jesse’s just a kid and not a big one at that. He just couldn’t have decapitated a man with his bare hands. I know I sure as hell couldn’t and I’m twice his size.’
Jarvis understood immediately.
‘You won’t be going out there alone,’ he assured them. ‘I’ll request an escort to be sent out from Gowen Field. I’ve already got a couple of mission specialists on stand-by — they’ll join you in Riggins. The troops will meet you at a pre-assigned location outside of the town so we don’t attract any local media attention.’
‘What kind of specialists?’ Lopez asked.
‘Cryptozoologists,’ Jarvis replied. ‘They’ve both spent years studying sasquatch, including time in the field in Oregon and Washington State. They’re qualified anthropologists, so they should have experience and knowledge enough to assist you.’
‘And the troops?’ Ethan asked.
‘National Guard,’ Jarvis said. ‘I’ll have to go up top with my cap in my hand to get them deployed.’
‘They’ll need to be tooled up,’ Ethan warned. ‘This thing supposedly shrugged off a direct hit from a .308 slug like it was swatting a fly, and we’ve seen what it can do when it gets hold of people.’
‘Fine,’ Jarvis agreed. ‘Leave it with me.’
‘What about Jesse?’ Lopez asked. ‘As long as he’s in that cell in town he’s vulnerable to just about anybody who wants a piece of him. Word spreads fast and people can react without thinking.’
‘Not much I can do for him,’ Jarvis said. ‘But there’s nothing that the sheriff can do either until a trial date is set. They won’t transfer him into a prison population unless formal charges have been made, which I take it hasn’t happened yet?’
Ethan shook his head. Despite the sheriff’s dismissal of their questions over Jesse’s presumed guilt, he had so far made no formal charges.
‘Good. Let’s get you out there doing what you do best, and in the meantime I’ll see what legal stalling I can create to protect Jesse. I should be able to get him a decent lawyer. Right now I’ve got to go — been summoned by the high and mighty at the NSA.’
Ethan reached over and switched off the laptop before looking at Lopez over his shoulder.
‘Fancy a hike?’
Lopez’s dark eyes watched his for a moment but they were devoid of humour.
‘You got any idea what you’re doing?’ she asked. ‘I’m all for getting Jesse off the hook but this isn’t a fool’s game, Ethan. If there’s something out there, we’re headed right into its back yard and all the evidence suggests that really pisses it off.’
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
‘You’re buying into this monster stuff?’
‘You’re not?’
‘Jesse saw something,’ Ethan agreed, ‘but a bear might have hit Gavin Coltz hard enough to take his head off. Heat of the moment, being charged by a wild animal having seen it smash your brother to death on rocks? I’m just saying chances are it’s a wild animal, although no less dangerous, and that Jesse mistook a bear for something more sinister.’
‘A bear that made a conscious decision to overkill his brother, but then let Jesse go?’ Lopez challenged. ‘Hell, that’s one smart bear you got there, skipper. He developed a conscience? Regret?’
Ethan stood up, smiling as he fished his cell out of his jacket pocket.
‘I gotta make a call.’
Ethan made his way to the lobby and then outside into the lot. The surrounding mountains were still wreathed in cloud, the horizon between them lit like a sliver of molten metal as the sun sank into oblivion beyond. Ethan checked behind him to ensure that Lopez had not followed, and then hit a quick-dial and waited. The voice answered on the third ring, sounding like it was outside.
‘Ethan?’
‘Hi, Natalie, how’s things?’
Her reply made something instinctive inside of him tense up.
‘Interesting.’
21
The National Security Agency’s facility at Fort Meade could possibly be described as the most classified intelligence building in the entire world. A parking lot for 18,000 vehicles gave some sense of scale to the operations conducted by this most clandestine of agencies. A huge oblong building in the center was coated with mirrored black windows that reflected the surrounding Maryland hills and likewise shielded its interior from prying eyes, a Pandora’s Box of classified information-gathering so sensitive that it was said that any form of communication, whether verbal or electronic, could be intercepted and eavesdropped by specialists laboring within.
Doug Jarvis strode into a briefing room on the top floor four minutes late for a meeting, the importance of which had been flagged on his internal mail system as ‘Stellar’ by Director Mitchell. When he got into the room, he realized why.
Before him sat the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the United States military’s highest-ranking officers and the men responsible for the overall command of the Army, Navy, Air Force and intelligence community. It wasn’t quite like being summoned by the twelve apostles, but it wasn’t far off either.
Jarvis hesitated before closing the door behind him.
A single spare chair awaited him, which meant that he was the only department head invited to this spectacular display of rank and medals. It was a wonder that the sheer volume of brass wasn’t showing up on the agency’s spy satellites. Heading the table was DIA Director Abraham Mitchell, flanked by the Director of the National Security Agency, Morris Tyler, and CIA Director William Steel. The Chiefs of Staff sat alongside each other on each side of the table, and at the far end was the empty chair.
A dense pall of foreboding fell upon Jarvis’s shoulders as Abraham Mitchell’s voice rumbled like an avalanche of boulders toward him.
‘Jarvis, good of you to join us. Please, take a seat.’
Jarvis kept his back straight and his chin held high as he strode with more confidence than he felt and took his place at the end of the table. Mitchell wasted no time in getting down to business.
‘Your operation has been flagged by the CIA as having flouted a number of pivotal security protocols, during which civilian contracted workers have been exposed to classified projects and data which, if exposed, could lead to serious repercussions.’ Mitchell glared down the table at him. ‘Why?’
‘In order to protect the same interests you have just described,’ Jarvis replied instantly, knowing that to hesitate would seal whatever fate awaited him in this room. The Director was clearly unable to offer Jarvis much room for manoeuvre. ‘Without the intelligence provided, the cases upon which we were working could not have been solved as efficiently as they were. It was a necessary step for which I take full responsibility.’
Mitchell’s features creased into a tight smile. Although Jarvis knew that his boss harboured no ill feeling toward him, the presence of so much high-level muscle left him in no doubt that Mitchell was under pressure. He decided to fight fire with fire.
‘A necessary step,’ Mitchell echoed, ‘which you had no authority to make.’