"The guys in the 48th stayed in several prefab Quonset huts on the surface, and we broke those down and took them back out with us when we left. All that you could see when we took that last flight out was the entry and ventilation shafts. Everything else was underground."
"What did it look like underground?" Vaughn asked.
"There were twelve of the prefab units."
"How were the units laid out?"
"We set them up in three rows of four, about eight to ten feet apart, and roofed over the space between, which just about doubled the underground area of the main base."
"That took four months?"
"What took the most time was blasting out that much ice and snow even before they brought in the first unit. They also dug two really big tunnels on either side for storage and two areas for fuel. Plus the long tunnel and area for the power station."
"Do you have any idea who was stationed there?"
"You know, that was the funny thing. When I flew out, I really don't think there was anybody left behind besides Alpha Company, and they were all on that last plane out."
Vaughn sat back in his chair and stared out at MacIntosh's small backyard. It seemed strange to be talking about this, looking at the bright Hawaiian sunshine.
"I don't get it," Vaughn said, trying to process everything. "Why go through all that trouble to build something if no one was going to use it?"
"Hey, you got me." MacIntosh snorted. "I'm just a poor taxpaying schmuck like everyone else. I don't know why the government spends money like it does."
"What about nuclear weapons?" Tai threw in.
MacIntosh was startled. "What?"
"Mark-17 nuclear bombs," Tai said. "You can't miss them. Big suckers."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, miss. I didn't see no bombs, that's for sure." He paused in thought. "But then again, I didn't see everything in that place. I don't think anyone from the 48th saw the entire thing. Everyone's job was very compartmentalized."
Vaughn tapped the photo. "So you have no clue what this base was built for? Who it was built for?"
"We followed orders," MacIntosh said.
"Ever occur to you that the people issuing the orders were…" Vaughn tried to figure out how to phrase it and then simply gave up, knowing it didn't matter.
MacIntosh stirred. "There was this guy who came out every so often on the MARS. He was a real strange fellow. Spooky."
"Military?" Vaughn asked.
"He didn't wear a uniform," MacIntosh replied.
"Why was he spooky?" Tai asked.
"Just was. Cold eyes."
"Did he have a name?"
"David Lansale."
Vaughn took a deep breath and glanced at Tai. They both stood.
"Thank you for your time," Tai said as she turned off the iPod and put it in her pocket.
MacIntosh took another deep drink of vodka. "Come back any time. I don't get many visitors."
Manila , Philippines
Fatima watched her figure in the mirror. Muscles flowed as her legs and arms performed one of the required movements of a fifth-degree tae kwon do black belt.
"Hai!" she shouted, her fist halting a millimeter from its reverse image. She slowly pulled the fist back as she returned to the beginning stance. The windows in the one room motel room were open, and the chill night air hit the sweat pouring off her skin, creating a thin layer of steam. She wore only a pair of cutoff white shorts and a sports bra. Her feet slid across the floor as she began another formalized kata. The calluses that years of working out had built up made her hardly notice the rough wood floor.
The room was empty except for the rest of her clothes hung and stacked in the closet. A bed sat near the window, but Fatima had not used it. If she had to rest, she slept on a thin mat, moving its location on the floor every night. Sometimes she slept right under the window; sometimes just behind the door; sometimes she folded her body into the scant space in the bathroom, a gun always close at hand.
Fatima 's leg snapped up high: front kick to the face. She froze for a second, then slowly lowered the leg, her head canted to one side. Her cell phone was vibrating. She went over and picked it up. "Yes?"
"Shibimi's tug is docking at Pier 23 in an hour. He thinks you are an arms dealer. Black market. He will talk to you but he wants something in exchange."
"What?"
"Weapons. Ten M-16s. With a thousand rounds of ammunition."
The phone went dead.
Two and a half miles away from Fatima 's location, the computer awoke with a chime. The man had been reading a book, and he carefully marked his page before flipping open the computer's lid. The display told him Fatima was moving. He shut the lid and gathered his equipment.
Oahu , Hawaii
"Lieutenant Colonel MacIntosh, retired, United States Army?" Royce asked.
"Yes?" MacIntosh's eyes were blurry and his speech slurred. He stood in the door of his cottage, one hand on the frame to steady himself.
"I have a couple of questions," Royce said as he brushed by the old man.
MacIntosh shut the door and turned. "Are you from Intelligence?"
Royce nodded. "Yes. You talked to that couple that was just here, didn't you?"
MacIntosh sighed. "That was so long ago, who cares now?"
"You told them everything you know about the Citadel?"
MacIntosh went over to the table and picked up his glass. "Yeah. What are you going to do? Court-martial me?"
"I don't have a problem with you talking to them," Royce said. "In fact, I sent them to you."
MacIntosh frowned. "Then what do you want?"
"I want to make sure you don't talk to anyone else." Royce stepped up to the confused old man and lightly slapped him on the back of the neck.
MacIntosh started and reached up to feel where he'd just been touched. "What the hell was that?"
Royce slid off the metal ring he had on his middle finger, carefully avoiding the small barb that protruded from it. He slipped it into a metal box and put it in his pocket. "Good-bye, Colonel."
MacIntosh was still rubbing the back of his neck. "What did you do?" The words came out slowly and even more slurred than before.
"Killed you," Royce said as he turned for the door.
MacIntosh tried to get to his feet but couldn't move. He tried to speak again but the muscles wouldn't respond. Royce paused at the door and looked over his shoulder. MacIntosh's eyes had lost their focus and his chest wasn't moving. His head slumped forward.
Royce pushed open the door and left the dead man behind.
Philippines
An hour was not much time. Fatima made a couple of calls as she gathered her gear and left the room. She knew she would not be coming back to it.
Weapons, especially M-16s, were not hard for her to get her hands on. The Abu Sayif had numerous stores of weapons. She had called to find out the closest location for these specific guns.
The drop site she'd been given was in a storage unit. Fatima unlocked the combination padlock and pulled up the door. Two crates and one small box lay just inside, in front of other boxes containing various equipment. The Abu Sayif was efficient. She didn't know who had put the guns in there, and she was sure that whoever had didn't know she was taking them out. The storage unit was a good cutout between operatives and support personnel. The Filipino government took a hard line with the Abu Sayif, especially right in Manila.
Fatima uncrated the ten M-16s and the ammunition. The M-16s were brand new, probably stolen from a government warehouse or even bought right out of government soldiers' hands.