Another piece to the puzzle popped into Sean's mind, and it brought everything into focus.
"Foster found out about what I was doing for the president."
"How?"
"How did they take down Nixon? There must have been a bug somewhere. When Foster found out I was getting close, he sent his CIA goons after me."
"And because the president knew too much already, he had to be eliminated as well," Adriana said.
"Exactly. That either means Foster wants Dawkins out of the way so he can take down TVA, or he doesn't want him to find whatever it is out in Alaska." Sean had another thought. "I can't help but wonder…" His voice trailed off.
"Wonder what?" she asked.
"You mentioned that Transcorp doesn't have any wind or solar farms on record."
"Correct."
"I'm assuming they don't own any hydroelectric stations either."
"Usually, assuming isn't the way to go. We both know why, but that is also correct. They don't own any of those."
"That brings me back to what I was thinking. Is it possible that they're producing their power from something underground, possibly a geothermal station of some kind?"
For a brief moment, Adriana didn't answer. Sean didn't expect her to right away. He knew that sort of thing wasn't her area of expertise.
"I suppose it's possible," she said, finally. "They'd have to run power lines, though. And those lines would have to traverse thousands of miles to get power to the lower forty-eight states."
"They built an oil pipeline that does that. Running some cables would be easier."
"Good point," she said. "You want me to have someone look into that?"
"The power lines? No. I have a feeling they probably kept that under wraps as well. It's also a good bet the lines are underground."
Another concern came to Sean's mind. "Does Dawkins know about Foster?"
"I'm on my way back to Washington to warn him."
"You didn't call?"
"He's in a secure bunker right now, but he's scheduled to make an appearance tomorrow. All the phone lines going into the White House are jammed. I have to warn him myself."
He continued staring out the windshield at the river. A little single-prop airplane bounced in the air several miles away. It almost didn't look like it was moving.
It sounded like Adriana had thought everything through. With Emily working with her, they'd have all the angles covered. Now he needed them to cover one more.
"I need you to ask Emily for a favor," he said.
"And that is?"
"See if she can get a plane for us. Nothing fancy. In fact, the less fancy, the better. We need something that can make it across the country with minimal stops, and we need it at the smallest airport near Clinton, Maryland you can find."
"Clinton? Is that where you guys are?"
"We're close to there, yes. Can you do that for me?"
"Yep. I'll tell her right now. I have to go. Anything else?"
"No," Sean shook his head. A thin smile stretched across his mouth. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Thank you, too."
"For what?"
"I'll think of something."
They ended the call, and Sean realized his friend was staring at him. He suddenly became uncomfortable.
"What?" Sean asked.
"You gonna share that intimate moment with me or just the information she gave you about Foster?" Tommy said with a devilish smirk.
"Funny guy. I assume you heard me ask for the plane, right?"
"I did," Tommy said with a nod. "She gonna text or call when they know more about that? Or are you just assuming on that one, too? Seems like you're doing a lot of assuming."
"You're on a roll. You know that?" Sean asked as he shifted the car into reverse and started backing out of the lot.
Tommy shrugged. "Just making an observation."
"She'll let me know soon."
"Great. So, where we going?"
"Right now, we're going to keep moving. The longer we sit still, the easier targets we become. Need to stay on the move."
"I meant, where are we going on the plane?" Tommy corrected.
Sean steered the car back onto the road and glanced into the rearview mirror. Traffic was still heavy coming back from Washington. Soon it would be dark. The sun was already half behind the distant horizon.
"Anchorage," Sean said.
"I thought you'd say that. You know we're going to need a good bit of cold weather gear if we're going up there, especially if we're heading out to Denali. Not to mention we might need some tools."
"We'll sort out the cold weather gear when we get there. As to the tools… I have a strange feeling we're not venturing into an undiscovered place."
Chapter 30
Porter watched Sean and Tommy through a pair of powerful binoculars. His driver stood outside the car, watching carefully behind some shrubs and small trees that lined the highway.
Porter's two men were in the back, waiting quietly.
They'd met their contact on the outskirts of Clinton and left their car in an empty church lot. The driver, a man by the name of Steve, was apparently running the show for their mutual employer.
Even though he thought it reckless to get out of the car or even to park as close as they were to their marks, Porter kept his thoughts to himself, letting Steve keep thinking he was the one in charge.
The men in the back knew better.
"It's hard to see what they're doing from this far away," Steve said in a hushed tone. The men in the car almost didn't hear him over the sound of vehicles zooming by. "We need to get closer."
"If you get closer, you run the risk of them seeing us," Porter warned. "We don't have to know what they're doing. We just have to keep an eye on them."
Steve shook his head. "I don't like it. Our boss wants us to intercept them. Why are we sitting back here, watching? They're sitting there in the open. If we're going to take them, we need to do it now."
Porter didn't flinch. If he were a more sensitive person, he'd have felt sorry for Steve. The guy might honestly believe he was doing something like fighting domestic terrorism or something. There was no telling what their employer had told him. Not that it mattered, but Steve was a minor roadblock — a small branch across the road — easily moved out of the way with a little push.
"Give it a minute," Porter said.
He didn't have a reason. Truth was, he didn't need one. Steve was a beta male, and Porter knew it. He realized it the moment they shook hands and their eyes locked. There was a lack of confidence, a timidness that Porter picked up on. It was something he'd seen in other "coworkers." Usually, he had to cut the dead weight. That didn't always mean killing them. But in this case, it definitely did.
Porter reached into his jacket and eased the pistol out of its holster.
"Why would we wait?" Steve persisted. "The longer we sit here, the better chance they have of getting away."
He was right about that, although Porter had no intention of letting his quarry escape so easily. Before he made a move on Wyatt and Schultz, he had to get rid of his employer's errand boy. Then nothing would stand in Porter's way.
He found the sound suppressor in the gear bag at his feet and screwed it into place. Every squeak from the twisting metal sounded like a trumpet blaring, but Porter knew he was just being overly sensitive. Not that he needed to be. He had the feeling he could walk right up to Steve, show him the gun, tell him he was going to kill him with it, and still be able to pull it off.
Steve kept looking through his binoculars. Porter could tell he was getting antsy just from the man's body language.
"See what they're doing yet?" Porter asked, keeping the conversation going.
"No. I'm telling you, we're too far away. Only thing I can see is the car and silhouettes of the men inside."