And now they weren’t going to get the chance.
All eight naval personnel had been herded into the recreation room, where they now lay, gagged and securely bound.
Solstice posted Eclipse with a semiautomatic rifle to keep an eye on them, just as she’d planned, and then, to slow down any potential law enforcement or Bureau response, she sent Cirrus and Squall to disable the rudimentary freight elevator they’d ridden down. She made it clear she wanted the slab covering the top, barring entry to the shaft.
“How will we get out when we’re done?” Squall asked her.
“I’ve got that covered,” she assured him. “There’s a room beside the elevator, all the machinery is in there. Do what you have to do.”
As a testament to their belief in her, the two men obeyed without any further questions or need for explanation.
Now on the lower level, she gazed around the control room at the display boards, computers, HDTV and plasma monitors, stylish glass desks, and holographic cryptogram decoding stations. Yes, this was more like it-a stark contrast to the austere Cold War appearance of the upper level. That place had reminded her of a concrete crypt; this room looked a lot more like a twenty-first-century military communication center.
She sat Donnie down at one of the keyboards, flipped open her laptop, connected it to their system. He looked like he was in shock at the death of his wife, still completely unaware that she’d already been dead more than forty-eight hours.
When Solstice removed his gag, he didn’t resist, pull away, respond. She bent and spoke softly into his ear. “All right. Let’s get started.”
Tessa, Lien-hua, and I finished getting situated in our respective rooms while Sean removed his two deer heads and mounted muskie from the living room wall and put them in the garage so Tessa wouldn’t be freaked out. Amber threw together some leftovers, and we all gathered in the kitchen and ate in a somewhat subdued silence.
When we were done, Tessa migrated downstairs to the TV room, carrying a book that at first appeared to be a Gideon Bible from the motel, but I realized I had to be mistaken; I couldn’t imagine her reading a Holy Bible, let alone taking one from the Moonbeam. Amber and Sean went to work on the dishes, Lien-hua disappeared into her room to work on her profiles and follow up on Natasha and Jake’s progress, and I set up a workstation in Andy’s room.
Outside my window, in the light migrating around the corner of the house from the porch, I could see that the falling snow was coming down in a frenzy again. As the wind writhed over the roof, some snow ascended in updrafts, while other flakes rushed sideways in the storm, not so much falling as skirting parallel to the ground. It was as if the storm had caught its breath and was panting forward into the night with a renewed sense of purpose and urgency.
As I flipped open my computer, Amber showed up at my door, holding two bottles of medication and a roll of athletic tape. I’d learned my lesson last night, and this time, rather than end up alone with her in the room, I met her in the hall.
She handed me the tape and one of the bottles, which I now saw was Advil. “For your ankle,” she said.
“Thanks.” I was eyeing the other bottle.
“Oh, this is for Tessa,” Amber explained. “She left her meds at the dorm.”
“Her meds?”
“She asked if I might be able to fill her prescription for her, but obviously I wasn’t able to get to the pharmacy today.” Amber handed me the bottle. “Anyway, these are mine. Over the counter. But they should help her sleep.”
Sleeping pills?
I looked at her curiously.
“Oh.” She realized what I was thinking. “You didn’t know she was taking anything.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have… She didn’t tell me.”
I accepted the bottle. “It’s okay.”
Tessa had never claimed that she wasn’t taking prescription meds, so she hadn’t technically lied to me, but still, in a way, I felt deceived.
“I’ll make sure she gets them.” I didn’t really know what else to say. “Thanks.”
Amber didn’t leave immediately. “I’m really sorry about last night. The note. Everything.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s all in the past.” There was obviously a lot more we could talk about, but I just offered her the words that were foremost on my mind: “Maybe you could reconsider with Sean, though? Try working things out? Give it one more chance?”
She looked as if she were going to object, then said softly, “We’ll have to see.” Quietly, she stepped away.
It wasn’t much, but maybe it was a start.
Before sitting down at my computer, I took some Advil to deal with the sharp pain returning to my ankle, then wrapped it tightly with the athletic tape.
I decided to deliver the sleeping pills to Tessa later, when it was a little closer to bedtime-and after I’d had a chance to process the fact that she was taking prescription medication that she hadn’t told me about.
Over the last few months I’d thought we were becoming closer, beginning to confide in each other more. I wondered if I’d done or said something that had betrayed her trust.
She’s old enough. It’s legal.
Yes, but that wasn’t exactly the issue.
Putting personal matters aside for the time being, I directed my attention back to the case.
There was a lot to cover:
(1) Follow up with Margaret about the ELF station, specifically get those base schematics or details on how to access the facility.
(2) Narrow down the search parameters and try to deduce where Alexei might have left Kayla Tatum.
(3) Touch base with Angela about her team’s progress in identifying Valkyrie and deciphering the “Queen 27:21:9” sequence.
(4) Evaluate the newspaper clippings and news footage, and watch the videos that the ERT had found in Reiser’s trailer.
First I tried contacting Margaret, but, unable to reach her by phone, I left a vm and then, to cover my bases, also sent an email requesting the ELF schematics.
I moved on to the search for Kayla.
Even though I’d analyzed Chekov’s travel patterns earlier, I decided to start over and take a fresh look at the data, hoping to do so as quickly and yet as thoroughly as I could.
After pulling up the geoprofile that I’d started at the motel, I went online and overlaid the findings against a satellite view of the area from two days ago, before the storm clouds had covered the sky.
And I began to study the map.
Donnie’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice barely audible. “So what about Lizzie?”
“I have no intention of harming her,” Solstice said truthfully.
“How can I know you’re not going to…”
She tapped at the computer screen. “Just verify the deactivation codes and everything will be fine.”
Leaving him under Cane’s supervision, she found Cyclone and had her acquire a voice sample from one of their captives, Chief Warrant Officer Dickinson. It took a little convincing, but at last he unwittingly gave her enough of an audio sample for a voiceprint by answering a few harmless questions about the base’s fitness room and the food prep area.
Utilizing the same software they’d employed yesterday to persuade Donnie Pickron that his wife was still alive, Solstice had Tempest call the Pentagon through the web-based router, and, pretending to be Chief Warrant Officer Dickinson, he assured the Navy that the sat comm lines had simply gone down in the storm and not to worry. “I came to the surface to let you know,” he said, and then told them a reference number Donnie had looked up to verify his identity as that of the chief warrant officer.
It wouldn’t hold off the Defense Department’s suspicions forever, but at least it would help buy the team a little more time.
Then, Solstice returned to Donnie’s side.
“When do you want to send the signal?” he asked her falteringly.
She looked at her watch. 5:44 p.m.
Three hours and sixteen minutes.