"How's that feel?" Flynn asked as he eased Jensen's pack behind the small of the other's back. "I think there's enough room to lie down if you want."
"Maybe later," Jensen said, pulling out his medkit. Now that they'd reached cover and the danger of masking his injuries with painkillers was over, it was definitely time for a shot.
"I'll leave you all the food and water," Flynn went on, sliding off his own pack and setting it beside Jensen. "I'll signal via tingler before I come close so you won't have to worry that—"
"You going somewhere?" Jensen interrupted.
"I'm going to look for civilization," Flynn said. "Your report from the last trip said there were some small towns and villages scattered through these mountains."
"You think any of them will have a qualified doctor?"
"They should at least know where to find one," Flynn said doggedly. "Unless you'd rather sit here until you heal on your own."
"No, a doctor would be nice to have," Jensen conceded. "But neither of us is going to go walking around out there in broad daylight."
"The residents will be easier to find during the day," Flynn reminded him.
"So will you," Jensen said flatly. "We stay put until dark."
For a long moment Flynn just looked at him. Then, with a sigh, he turned around and settled himself cross-legged beside Jensen with his back to the tree trunk. "Fine," he said. "While we wait, how about telling me a story?"
"What kind of story?"
"You know what kind," Flynn said bluntly. "You didn't take us down to look at Aegis Mountain on the spur of the moment. You were planning it all along, or at least considering it. Given the present circumstances, I think I should know why."
Jensen grimaced. But he was right. "You already know most of it," he said. "A year ago one of the local blackcollars, Bernhard, took us to the back door the old Torch resistance group had opened up into Aegis Mountain and we all went inside."
"And found the Whiplash they'd created before they died."
"Right," Jensen said. "What you don't know—and Skyler may not know it, either—is that the day we went into the mountain, someone was watching us."
He sensed Flynn stiffen. "How do you know?"
"I saw a glint off the binoculars or telescope he was using," Jensen said. "It was halfway up a slope about a klick west of us."
"And you didn't tell the others?"
Jensen started to shrug, quickly changed his mind. "I told Mordecai, who was staying topside on rearguard duty. I didn't see much point in mentioning it to anyone else. It wasn't like we had extra personnel or reinforcements we could call on."
"I presume no one was waiting for you when you came out again?"
"Only Mordecai," Jensen said. "And we know that Bernhard, who left before us, didn't run into any opposition either."
"Maybe it was someone out hiking," Flynn suggested. "There's a good chance he was just admiring the mountains and never even saw you."
"That's one possibility," Jensen agreed. "The other is that it was some kind of observation post someone had set up."
"Someone like Security?"
"If it was, the Ryqril at the main Aegis entrance would have had a conveyer belt already set up to cart stuff out," Jensen pointed out. "That's why I wanted to go check that out right away."
"I see," Flynn said, his voice suddenly thoughtful. "But if it wasn't Security, and it wasn't a random hiker, the only possibility left is that it was Torch."
"Bingo," Jensen said, nodding. "And of course, a Torch observer wouldn't have interfered with us because we had Bernhard and Anne along, both of whom he would have recognized."
"Okay," Flynn said. "The question then is whether he's still there. That's the first question, I mean."
"And the second question?" Jensen asked, frowning.
"Whether he's going to like what you're planning to do."
Jensen grimaced. Had Flynn figured it out? "All I said was that I was going to make sure the Ryqril didn't get into the mountain," he reminded the other.
"And there aren't a lot of ways for a couple of men to do that," Flynn countered. "Even if one of them is a blackcollar."
"There's no couple of men involved," Jensen said firmly. "I'm going in alone. You're going to Denver to hook back up with Skyler."
"Jensen—"
"No arguments," Jensen cut him off. "This is my job, not yours."
For a minute neither of them spoke. "Well, at the moment it's all rather academic," Flynn said at last.
"I'm not dead yet," Jensen reminded him. "Give me the rest of the day. I'll be ready to travel by nightfall."
"Yeah," Flynn said. "We'll see."
The corridor outside the interrogation rooms was silent and mostly deserted, the bright overhead lights belying Bailey's own dark mood. He'd been pacing back and forth for nearly five hours now, stopping at each room in turn to eavesdrop for a few minutes on the intercom, then moving on to the next, eventually restarting the whole cycle. The interrogators had been at it for those same five hours, through the night and to the dawn that was breaking across the prairie land to Athena's east.
Six interrogation rooms. Six prisoners. Hardly the twelve suspects he'd hoped to bring in when he'd set the operation in motion.
Still, he should probably consider himself lucky they'd gotten even that many. Only two of the rebels had actually escaped the nets, and one of those—Silcox—had had a good deal of help. Of the remaining four, three had been killed as they tried to escape, and the fourth was in the hospital undergoing emergency surgery for the gunshot wounds he'd received after being clever enough to avoid the paraldarts.
At the end of the hallway the elevator opened, and Bailey turned to see Lieutenant Ramirez step out, nodding as he passed the duty guard at his station. "Any news?" Bailey asked as the other came up to him.
"Nothing from the hospital," Ramirez said. "And Major O'Dae says he's drawn a blank on the interrogations of Reger's men. They're all apparently standard homegrown thugs, with no idea what his involvement with Phoenix might be."
Bailey nodded. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected the blackcollars to be caught that easily."
"No, sir," Ramirez said. "Speaking of whom, we've found the remains of the drop pod they arrived in.
You said there were four blackcollars at Reger's place?"
"That's what I saw," Bailey said. "That local troublemaker—Kanai—plus Skyler, Hawking, and one other I didn't recognize. Why?"
"Because the men who found the pod said it was bigger than the four-man ones Lathe and Caine used to bring in their teams last year," Ramirez said. "This appears to have been a six-man version."
Something cold ran up Bailey's back. "Are you suggesting there could be three more blackcollars running around loose out there?"
"Yes, sir," Ramirez said grimly. "I'd like permission to expand our search to the entire area around where the drop pod came down."
"Granted," Bailey said grimly. The local blackcollar activity that had rumbled through Denver over the years had ceased last summer after Lathe and his team left Earth. But it wasn't until a tip a few months ago had led them to a mass grave with six flexarmor-clad bodies that he'd dared to hope the problem had gone away for good. Now, it seemed, the Plinry blackcollars had decided to bring their insane war back for another round. "Get hold of Major McKarren—he should be in the main communications room—and have him put together some more search parties. You and he can coordinate which areas your respective offices will handle."
"Yes, sir," Ramirez said, not moving. "There is one other possibility we should consider."
"You mean the chance that the larger pod is a diversion designed to pull our men out of the city and waste their time in a wild-goose chase?" Bailey suggested.
Ramirez's face flushed slightly. "Yes, sir," he said, sounding embarrassed. "I'm sorry—I should have realized you'd already have thought of that."
"No apology necessary," Bailey assured him. "Actually, I tend to agree with you. The blackcollars were trained to be city guerrilla fighters, not alpine troops. Unless there was an accident or malfunction, I can't see them voluntarily tramping up and down the mountains."