The Marine colonel was next and Hawkins read his military data with a quick scan. Colonel Tolliver. Commander of Battalion Landing Team 2 out of Okinawa. Hawkins's mind snapped to professional considerations. What did they need a BLT out here for? And how were the Australians reacting to that many U.S. troops on their soil? Tolliver was here simply because he was the commander of the closest American forces.
The Air Force major-Spurlock-was a screen watcher from this station. Hawkins shook his head. He had an inherent antipathy toward someone in uniform, the same rank as himself, who normally got paid the same amount of money each month, but the most dangerous thing they did was use the stapler.
So what had they seen on the screens here that was so important? Hawkins wondered as he glanced outside again at the large dishes.
A Marine lieutenant tapped on the door. It was time. Hawkins stuffed his green beret in a side pants pocket and strode out of the room, the file folder under his arm. Stoic-faced marines with slung automatic weapons were spaced along the hallway and Major Hawkins responded to their snap to attention with a curt nod.
Hawkins showed his ID card to the guard at the door and entered the briefing room. He noted the other people seated at the table as he made his way to the seat that had an index card with his name on it, matching the photos and data in the folder with the actual people. They eyed him with equal curiosity.
Volkers appeared to be on edge, her fingers tapping on the desktop, her eyes flickering about the room. Levy sat perfectly still, her eyes only briefly sliding over to take in Hawkins, then returning to a point in front of her on the tabletop. Batson looked terrible-hungover and worn out. A stubble of beard didn't help his appearance.
The door opened and a man in an expensive three-piece suit walked in. The newcomer was in his mid-forties, a slight puffiness in both the face and body showing the effects of a current lifestyle seated behind a desk. His hair was pure white and thick, combed straight back, a contrast to the slightly red face. The left side of the man's face was slightly concave on the cheekbone-an unsettling abnormality that Hawkins knew was the result of that bone having been smashed in and improperly cared for.
Hawkins had immediately recognized him as Steven Lamb-the President's principal adviser in intelligence matters. Despite the suit and slack body Hawkins respected Lamb. He knew something that few others in the world of covert operations knew-Lamb had spent four years in the CIA running missions out of North Turkey into the former Soviet Union. He had been compromised on one of the missions and spent six years in a Soviet prison under horrible conditions before he was quietly exchanged back after the end of the Cold War. The broken cheekbone had occurred sometime during the first year and been allowed to heal on its own. Hawkins knew this because he had been tapped to plan a rescue mission into the prison-one of many potential missions his team-code named Orion-planned for but never executed because, as Hawkins's executive officer Richman liked to say, there was "a lack of intestinal fortitude on the part of the one who has to make the decision to go."
To many not in the know Lamb was simply the President's hatchet man. The one who took the hard jobs and got them done. Of course, he got them done by using other people to do the dirty work and that sometimes caused resentment in the covert community, but as far as Hawkins knew, Lamb had never shirked responsibility for anything he ordered, even when it had turned bad. That was rare in the world of government, from what Hawkins had seen over the past several years.
Lamb and Hawkins had worked together several times during the course of the past four years while Hawkins had been commanding Orion. Lamb more often than not had been the one giving Hawkins the missions for Orion. He'd been the one who'd supplied the questionable intelligence placing one of the bombs in Colombia and, using his call sign Angel, had given the final go.
Lamb moved directly to the front of the room and looked at each person for a few seconds, gaining eye contact before moving onto the next, as if he were judging their capabilities with that look.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Steven Lamb. I'm executive director of the President's National Command Crisis Team. Some of you know me from your work on the Hermes Project." He glanced at Hawkins. "Some from other operations.
"All of you had or have been given interim top secret Q clearances, so we can speak freely in this room. I am glad each of you was able to make it here in time and-"
"I didn't exactly feel like I had much choice," Batson interrupted.
"I second that statement," Fran Volkers added. "I was told I was to be here because of Hermes Project, yet that doesn't seem to be the case." She pointed at the folder in front of her. Hawkins noticed for the first time that all the other people in the room had a folder similar to his. That meant they knew as much about him as he did about them, which bothered him.
Lamb dodged the question for the time being. "Dr. Volker and Mr. Batson are both members of a group called the Hermes Project and they were told that their presence here was because of that project. However, that is not quite true. The Hermes Project has over eighty members, but as you can see, there are only two of you here. I apologize for the slight subterfuge, but we felt it was the easiest way to get you to come here. This matter does fall under the scope of the contracts you signed with Hermes. I will explain in a little while why we had to bring you here, but let me start at the beginning."
Lamb gestured about him, taking in the room. "This installation is called Deep Space Communication Complex 14. Two days ago this station-and other tracking stations around the globe-picked up a high-frequency transmission that disrupted all normal communications for over three hours. Tapes were made of it at all affected stations and sent to Goddard Space Center in Maryland, which began the process of trying to determine several things: first, where the message originated from; secondly, where the message was being sent to; and third, what the message was. The answers to some of those questions were determined just eighteen hours ago and I will share them with you shortly, but bear with me as I stay in the order of events as they occurred.
"Initially, it was suspected that either a civilian or military radio was broadcasting somewhere to the southwest of this location. A helicopter was sent out to locate the emitter."
Lamb picked up a remote and clicked. The screen showed a massive red rock standing alone in the middle of what appeared to be a desert. "That is Ayers Rock. Located two hundred miles to the southwest of this station. The interfering radio waves were coming out of the rock."
"What do you mean, out of the rock?" Batson leaned forward. "You mean someone inside is transmitting?"
Lamb looked at Batson with a blank expression. "We don't know. Ayers Rock is the largest homogeneous rock in the world-there are caves along the face, but the rock itself has always been thought to be solid. It is 1,131 feet high, a mile and a half wide, and two miles across. Using sonar and magnetic resonance imaging equipment, we have narrowed down the source of the emitter to be center of the mass, approximately six hundred feet in from the top."
Batson ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair. "No sign of a mine entrance or tunneling?"
"None. As far as we can determine from sonar readings, there is a chamber of presently indeterminate size in the center of the rock with no tunnels leading to it. We assume that is where the transmission originated."
Hawkins spoke for the first time. "What's it transmitting?"
Lamb pointed at the Air Force officer. "Major Spurlock was on duty when the radio waves were first received. I’ll let him explain what happened and what he discovered."
Spurlock took a quick drink from a glass of water and then stood. "We picked up the transmission here only because of our proximity to the transmitter. It was picked up by other stations and satellites because the transmission was an up link to a meteor bounce. There were five directional down links.