"As long as we don't admit to any wrongdoing, I'd be okay with that," she said with a scornful toss of her head. "But we should talk to my father about that, and see what he thinks."
Later, in my hotel room, I was pretty surprised to see what he thought as he replied to my message on his website with one on mine:
Hayden, on due reflection I believe this may be one of those rare occasions where national security may play a justifiable role. This is the view of a majority of my fellows as well. Of course, we can't be sure, but the growing consensus is that the U.S. Government and major governments around the world appear to be gearing up for a catastrophic event. Most indications point to an asteroid impact, and that does tie in with martial law preparations as well as the technological programs that we know of. There may even be a somewhat tenuous connection with the purported atmospheric engineering, which may be intended to counter the effects of the ejecta from such an impact.
Regardless, revealing a possible collision with an asteroid would not be a good thing in my – our – opinion. The people deserve to know most things, but in this case their knowing could cause destructive social chaos and possibly hamper the efforts of world governments to prevent this tragedy.
So what I would recommend is that we avoid further friction with LM security, which we know to have strong ties with the intelligence community. We must pick our battles carefully at this point. Therefore, I'd suggest you cooperate with LM security as necessary to placate them, but please feel free to conduct your negotiations in a manner that benefits your scientist friend. I share your desire to avoid harming such a promising young woman's career.
We'll talk more about your next assignment shortly. Thank you for your good work, Hayden. You've been a boon to our cause, and I'm certain that will continue.
I wasn't sure about the last, but it was still good to hear. Now all that remained was dealing with Lara and company. I had to go in there strong and intelligent. They might not really give a shit about Janine one way or the other, but then again they might be seriously pissed at her. I did want to leave them any avenue of attack on her.
A knock on the door made me close my computer. Too soft for Lilith, who favored a "cop knock." I opened the door to a version of Janine that looked about seven years older and a lifetime more traumatized.
"I didn't dare call you," she said, falling more than stepping into the room. "I managed to convince the woman at the front desk to give me your room number."
"Good." I guided her over to the club chair and set her down. "You look like you need a drink."
"Please."
I handed her one of the mini-bottles of bourbon whiskey I'd purchased in the lobby. She ripped it open and drank greedily.
"God, this stuff tastes awful. Can I have another?"
"Maybe you should wait for the effects to catch up with you?"
"You're a smart man..." Her voice had already acquired a slight slur. "You know my fiancé had a 162 IQ?"
"Lucky guy."
"But he was so dumb when it came to certain things. I think intelligence is multiple. There is a general correlation with 'g,' but that doesn't change the possibility of varied intelligence in different areas."
"I'll drink to that," I chuckled, pouring myself one of the mini-bottles.
"Lara told me you turned against me, that you'd already confessed that I gave you classified information," said Janine. "I knew she was lying. I just kept repeating what you told me to – that I didn't say anything and that they had no right to drug you. She told me that the decision to terminate me" – Janine winced – "terminate my employment, that is, was pending. Along with whether or not they're coming after me legally."
"She did what I expected. You did good."
"Thank you. I hope so."
"By the way, I met with her."
"Oh...God."
"It's good news, Janine. At least I think it is."
She listened with a dazed expression as I filled her in.
"In sum," I concluded, "I'm planning to meet with them, sign a non-disclosure agreement, and put this behind us. You won't be working for Lockheed any more, true, but I doubt that will be a great disappointment for you."
Janine smiled cautiously, an alcoholic flush in her cheeks. "Thank you, Scott. Thank you from standing up for me."
"I'm glad I could do that."
Janine nodded, covering her eyes with both hands. "I'm so tired. I wish this could all be over."
"I'm sure it will be soon."
"Do you think they've bugged this room?"
"I doubt it. But we probably should assume it is."
Janine grunted as if she'd been kicked. I came up behind her and rested my hands on her shoulders. Her muscles were like coiled ropes. I lightly kneaded them.
"Yes," she murmured. "That feels fantastic."
Her shoulder muscles loosened from knots to soft linguini under my fingers while she made purring sounds. Soon the purring evolved into soft snoring. I laughed under my breath.
I hoisted her up from the chair as gently as I could and laid her out on the king-size bed. She stiffened in my arms, her eyes blinking owlishly behind her glasses.
"Hey...?"
"Just thought you'd be more comfortable here."
"Thank you," she said.
I bent down and kissed her forehead.
"Gosh, you're sweet," she said. "For a guy who almost got me sent to Quantanamo Bay."
THE MEETING with Lara et al was set for noon the next day in a meeting room in the downtown Palmdale Business Center. Lara stated over the phone it was a location frequently used by Skunk Works for symposiums and other events.
As we joined Lara Knowles and a number of other formally attired individuals outside the meeting room I had the sense of being ambushed. This did not have the informal, mano a mano feel of my luncheon with Lara. This was more like meeting with a parole board. Aside from Lara there were two large, buff dudes and two older men who made me think of high-level bureaucrats or lawyers – plus one woman who carried in a camera and tripod, which she proceeded to set up. Lara, dressed in a power business suit and dark eyeliner that made her hard blue eyes look like twin mini-cannons, sat down across from us and laid out two sets of papers drawn from a leather satchel.
Lilith shot me a look. I knew they wanted us to feel overwhelmed, like kids in the principal's room, and damned if it wasn't working. I tried to put on my game face and appear unaffected. I reminded myself that we weren't on trial here, and that we held some pretty strong cards.
Lara eased the two sets of papers over to our side of the table.
"Please read our agreement and sign it," she said. "We'll need three forms of I.D. for the notary public."
All I had with me was the Scott Harrow Colorado driver's license and the VISA credit card in his name.
"Sorry," I said. "You didn't mention needing I.D., and I didn't bring any."
One of the two suits, a dapper dude with short grey hair and a lean, almost scholarly face, opened a laptop.
"Shouldn't be a problem," he said. "We'll just need your numbers and can verify it in our data base."
"You have a data base that includes my personal information?"
"We have access to such a data base, yes." His smile was patronizing.
I and a scowling Lilith started reading through the three-page "contract." The agreement had three central points: 1) we were swearing under penalty of law to not disclose whatever information we'd obtained through Janine (which specified fines and a possible 5 – 15 year prison sentence); 2) we swore to completely disclose any information we had obtained (with the same penalties if we perjured ourselves). On their part – Point Three - Lockheed Martin promised to give Janine a good recommendation and that the record would show they parted amicably. Janine would not face criminal prosecution. If, however, either Lilith or I violated the agreement, Lockheed Martin's promise not to prosecute Janine would be voided.
"No fucking way am I signing this," said Lil
ith, shoving the papers back at Lara.
"May we ask your objection?" asked the other suit softly – a dark-haired fortiesh dude with hair drawn behind his head into a ponytail neo-hippy style.
"My objection is that I'm not fucking this girl, unlike Hayden, so why should I expose myself to criminal prosecution for her?"
I turned to her, about to spit out that I definitely had not been fucking her when it occurred to me that maybe Lillith knew what she was doing. I sensed a possible "bad cop, good cop" opportunity here, whether or not she'd intended it. And knowing her, she had.
The group on the other side of the table regarded Lilith with impassive faces and iceberg eyes. I supposed they meant to intimidate her, but a couple of stray glances between them told me that they understood the obvious implications. They didn't have any leverage over her. And without her agreement, mine was pointless. Of course, that could result in Janine being sold down the river, but somehow I doubted Lilith, despite her tough-girl bravado, was that heartless. But they wouldn't know that.
"Lilith, come on," I growled at her, assuming this was the part she wished me to play. "Janine is in this mess because of us."
Lilith met my gaze. She didn't wink or change her expression, but I thought I glimpsed the tiniest hint of a smile before her face froze over.
"She's not quite the little innocent you make her out to be," she said.
"Agreed," said Lara. She made a steeple of her long-fingered hands. "You came here expecting a formal agreement. I assume you're willing to sign some version of one. What would that be?"
"I'm willing to agree not to divulge anything Dr. Callas told us. Which isn't saying much because she didn't tell us shit."
"Could you be more specific about what she did tell you?" asked the white-haired dude.
"I can tell you what she didn't tell us," Lilith stated. "She didn't tell us about anti-gravity or warp drives or back-engineered UFOs or bioengineered algae."
The faces across the table had grown flat, particularly on her last item. It was an interesting - and I hoped not dangerous - game she was playing. Giving them enough to show there was a threat while not actually confessing to it. I was happy to see she was keeping her wits with these high-powered people. I wasn't sure how well I would've done alone.
"And you, Hayden?" Lara inquired. "Are you willing to sign these papers as is and satisfy point 2: full disclosure of what Janine told you?"
I decided to follow in Lilith's footsteps.
"I'm not signing anything that says Janine disclosed classified information," I said. "I'm willing to sign an agreement not to disclose anything that hypothetically might've been revealed to me. For the record, Lara, I don't disagree with you that some things should remain classified. And the things you worry that Janine might've revealed might, speaking hypothetically of course, be in that class."
Though Lara's expression remained cold and her friends' impassive, I thought I detected a thawing of the chill in the room.
"That could work," said the pony-tailed dude.
"I have a further condition," I said, watching their expression freeze up again. "The highway patrol stole $10,000 of my money because of your prank call. I want it returned."
"And how do you expect us to accomplish that?" asked Lara.
"Make a phone call?"
"We don't have the local police in our pocket."
"Then cough up the money from your own pockets."
"Right on," said Lilith.
"What were you doing with ten thousand in cash anyway? Can't be something legal."
"Right," said Lilith. "Because if the government or its corporate allies don't know what you're doing with your money you must be doing something wrong. They, on the other hand, can give trillions to their cronies and just shrug when asked about it."
"Regardless," I said, meeting Lara's icy gaze, "that's a condition of my signing this."
"I don't think that should be a problem," said the long-haired guy as Lara glowered at me.
Suddenly, the assemblage didn't seem so intimidating. They'd played their hand, and it was just a high card with no pairs. I nodded to the pony-tailed dude.
"Do it, and we'll continue."
"Give me a minute."
Mr. Ponytail stepped away from the gathering and spoke into his cell. I couldn't make out the words, but the conversation sounded amicable. He returned after less than a minute.
"Your money will be here in twenty minutes," he said. "Captain Rogers will have a special courier deliver it."
"What did you say to him?"
"Just that we vouch for you."
One of the bodyguards was sent to get coffee and doughnuts. Lara settled back in her chair facing me with a resigned scowl. The mood lightened.
"I think you may have a misunderstanding about us," said the grey-haired guy. "I've devoted my life to creating things that help protect the freedoms of the people in this country, and I think most of us at Skunk Works share that devotion. This is about damage control, Mr. Hunter, not destroying people's lives."
"Would you refuse a project you thought was morally dubious?" I asked.
"Without question."
"If you thought people had the right to know about a project you were working on, would you tell them?"
He hesitated. "That's not really my call. The problem is that if the public has a right to know something, everyone else in the world, including our enemies, would have access to it as well."
"What if we didn't have enemies?" Lilith broke in. "What if technology wasn't about war, but was just about making people's lives better?"
"Imagine all the people," Lara sang in a droll monotone.
"That would be a very different world," the grey-haired man replied.
The courier arrived with a padded envelope which I signed for and opened. Two stacks of bound $100 bills greeted me. I couldn't say I cared as much about the money as the principle. I hated the idea that people could get away with legal theft and that the Highway Patrol had become highwaymen.
"Okay," said the pony-tailed dude. "Are we good?"
JANINE WAS packing when I showed up at her house an hour later. I'd called her after the meeting to let her know things had gone well.
"Part of me believed it would all fall apart somehow," she said. "Thank you, Scott, for standing firm for me."
She gave me a long, welcome-home-hero hug, which I savored for many moments as she resumed pulling clothing from her drawers.
"I'm headed up to my folks for a few weeks," she said. "Personnel called to say they're bringing over all my personal stuff from work. I won't be allowed back in the building."
"I hope they bring it all – and in one piece."
"It will be in neatly packed boxes, with liberal use of bubble wrap. They're very anal about such things. I've seen it before."
"Then good, I guess."
"I guess so."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I think you've done enough." Janine stopped in mid-folding, looking mortified. "Sorry, Scott. I didn't mean it the way that sounded. You know I'm incredibly grateful to you. You saved my ass, as they say."
"After throwing it in the fire."
"True. But I can't deny that I'm kind of glad this happened. I feel as if I've just escaped from prison. I would never have worked for them in the first place if I'd known they were spying on me. I don't know where I'll end up, job-wise. But maybe we can talk when I do?"
"That would be great," I said through a knot in my throat.
She paused in packing her bags and looked at me. Something in her eyes seemed to register what she'd heard in my voice.
"Well," I said, "I'll let you get on with your packing. Good luck in Seattle. I'm sure your folks will be happy to have you home."
"I'll be happy to be home."
I started for the door.
"Scott," she called after me. "I will call you at some point. You're not changing your number, are you?"
"Probably. I'll le
t you know, if you'd like."
"I would."
I drove back to the hotel torn once again between relief and sadness. Janine was free of Lockheed Martin and I was free to pursue my next assignment, whatever that would be. We'd gotten to know each other under unnatural, stressful circumstances. It wasn't as though we ever would've connected under normal circumstances.
Or so I told myself.
Chapter 14
LILITH SURPRISED ME WITH a parting hug and a "try not to fall in love with your next assignment" parting shot before she drove to the airport. I could've sworn I saw a tender sheen of emotion in her eyes as she backed away, as if she might actually be tearing up. But then she spun away and hopped into her car. I watched her drive away with the conviction that I probably should give up trying to figure out Markus's daughter.
My next assignments didn't need her, and I could tell Papa Markus was more anxious than ever to get his daughter back from the front lines.
So now I was driving east toward one of three men Markus had set meetings up with as a happy bachelor.
I didn't have far to drive for my first meeting with Marine Corps veteran, Sergeant Steve Markham, in Apple Valley, who'd contacted Markus with reports of Chinese and Russian soldiers training with U.S. Marines, Army, and Air Force personnel at one of my old alma maters - Twenty-Nine Palms Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center (or MCAGCC). That wasn't big news in itself – though I was sure it would surprise a lot of Americans – but the nature of the training exercises were eye-opening: they were practicing arresting, detaining, and interrogating crisis actors pretending to be outraged American citizens. I'd heard of soldiers – National Guard and Marines – practicing with crisis actor "dissidents," but not with foreign troops. An added note of mystery: part of the training involved taking blood samples from the actor-dissidents. That struck Sergeant Markham as ominous. I shared his sentiment.
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