There was a long silence, and the scientist sensed they all understood the importance of retrieving the report.
Charles continued. “The population will forever remember where they were the day everything changed. A disclosure event will be more profound than the Kennedy assassination, the moon landing, the shuttle disasters, the Twin Towers collapse and both world wars all combined.”
Reilly now stared deep into Jake’s eyes, and said solemnly, “This, my friend, is the third prophecy of Fatima. So terrifying that the Vatican would never reveal it, as it will also bring into question the world’s religions. Notwithstanding that the first two prophecies have already come to pass.”
Over the next 15 seconds Jake took several slow breaths, trying to absorb what the scientist had just shared. Jake felt his senses igniting, a new compulsion rising within him; determination, defiance. Jake knew exactly what he needed to do. His eyes slowly rose to meet Natasha’s; hers were welling with tears of fear. She fixed Jake with a deep stare that seemed to imply, ‘You don’t have to do this.’
Jake sensed Natasha’s apprehension, her anxiety. But there was also understanding there. She understood the paramount importance of retrieving the report, and she also understood Jake’s personal yearning to set the record straight about what his grandfather once found in the desert.
With a new determination Jake turned back to Reilly. “If we do get our hands on it, how do we get it out to the masses quickly?”
“You leave that one to me,” Charles said confidently.
“And what about the little I-beam?” Mark questioned.
“You should find it with the report. Take it back!” Charles’s face filled with anguish as he thought about his missing friend. “If we can get the report out to the media, it’ll put a spotlight on the NSA’s Special Study Group’s activities and force their hand in disclosing the rest of the ETVs they have in their possession.”
“You really think we can do this?” There was a hint of doubt in Jake’s eyes.
Charles’s confidence was unwavering. “Perhaps you are capable of much more than you know. All you need to do is create the trigger event then sit back and let the avalanche come. Now listen carefully: this is how you get into a secure NSA building.”
CHAPTER 49
The dozing security guard jolted awake at the sound of an approaching delivery van. Cursing the early hour he fumbled for his clipboard and stepped out of the security guard hut at the gates of the NRO research and data mining facility. Checking his list, he found it odd that no deliveries were expected so early.
He stepped toward the approaching vehicle, raising his hand against the glare of the headlights as he peered at the looming van. As the glare subsided, the familiar yellow of a DHL courier van became apparent.
The van slowed to a halt for the guard. He looked at the number plates before stepping to the driver’s side window. “You’re lucky I recognized the plates. If this vehicle wasn’t one of our decoys you’d be waiting on the street till the delivery dock opened.”
Stepping back, the guard waved the DHL van through.
As they drove past the security checkpoint Mark realized he was trembling. Dressed in a makeshift uniform that roughly approximated a delivery driver, he turned to Jake and Natasha, who were hiding in the back of the van among empty computer boxes.
“Where are we supposed to go now?” Mark choked.
Jake didn’t share Mark’s anxiety, and replied in a calm tone, “Drive past the entrance, let the next guard see the van.”
They followed Dr. Charles Reilly’s instructions, driving the yellow van along the road leading to the building. It made an arc before the building’s entry, stopping to park haphazardly in the middle forecourt adjoining the building. Despite being in the line of sight of the guard sitting at the reception desk, it was not a parking area.
*
“What the bloody hell is this jerk doing?” the reception guard growled, looking up from his morning paper.
The guard watched with contempt as the driver opened the side door of the DHL van and fumbled to stack three computer boxes on top of each other. Balancing the swaying boxes, the driver stumbled as he carried his delivery toward the building’s entrance.
“Doesn’t this idiot own a watch?” the guard cursed as he pressed the intercom. “All deliveries are to be unloaded at the rear dock. It’s still early, they’re not open yet.”
Mark spoke into the intercom: “But security at the gate said I could come through.”
“He must have meant you can wait out back till the dock opens. Regardless, you can’t come through here. You can wait out the back till the dock opens then they’ll clear you.”
With that, Mark wrestled to find his center of gravity as he turned to balance the boxes back to the van. He released his grip on a small black USB drive, letting it drop to the ground before staggering back to the vehicle.
The reception guard watched suspiciously as the clumsy driver reloaded the van and drove away. A faint object on the ground outside the door then drew the guard’s attention. Discarding his reading material, he moved to the entrance for a closer look.
Resting on the pavement was a small USB drive.
Was that there before? the guard asked himself.
Using his security card to release the entry lock, he ventured outside the entry to retrieve the small object. He looked up in the direction of the departed van then back down to inspect the small object. There were no markings; it was a plain USB drive.
He peered again in the direction of the van, which had now disappeared behind the building, then pocketed the USB and returned to his paper.
Back at the reception desk the guard inspected the USB drive. With a ponderous expression, he inserted the USB into one of the reception computers, clicking on its icon. It was empty.
In that instant, and unbeknownst to the guard, a spyware program was executed and commenced automatically tunneling through the NRO’s firewalls. Its target was the building’s electrical and security systems.
*
On the other side of the city, Dr. Charles Reilly was home in his study. With all his computer screens active, he sat and waited patiently.
Then it happened.
Reilly’s computer pinged and a prompt appeared on his screen: CONNECTED.
Several keystrokes later Reilly’s screens were adorned with the remote access to the security system and video feeds of the NRO building.
*
Jake crouched, waiting, outside a fire escape door next to a closed roller door that allowed access to the building’s delivery dock. Mark and Natasha remained in the van parked close by, which Mark had backed up against the building.
No doubt for a fast getaway, Jake thought.
Adjusting the two-way he had worn when leaving the cemetery, he squinted at the horizon. The sun was beginning to emerge behind the silhouette of distant warehouses. Jake’s heart then pounded at the sound of the door’s latch. He instantly tested the handle.
The door was now unlocked.
Brilliant, Charles!
With an abrupt burst of energy Jake sprang into action. He sprinted through the fire escape corridor and bounded up the stairs, heading for the upper levels. His eyes were trained on the numbers labeling the stair doors as he passed them. Reilly had told him that the office in which he would find the analysis report was on the 35th floor.
*
The reception guard settled back in at his desk and returned to his paper. He periodically looked up at the screens before him; they displayed a bank of security images which rotated through a myriad of video feeds showing all areas of the building. Other than a hint of a slight flicker, as per usual, there was no movement in any of the camera angles.
*
Eighty seconds later Jake passed the 34th floor. As he ran up the final few steps to level 35 he glanced at an overhead security camera. He plunged his hand into his pocket to retrieve the security card given to him by Dr. Reilly.
>
His heart was pounding, and his breath caught as he reached out to touch the card against the door sensor. He braced himself for a dangerous result.
No alarm sounded.
He walked quickly through the lift lobby and another two locked doors until he was standing in what seemed to be a foyer lined with windows that looked out over the surrounding buildings and warehouse. The sun had now risen. Jake could see city buildings on the horizon. To his right was the entry into an office area; however, to his left was an enormous steel door with a sign that announced “Armory.”
Slightly uneasy now, he took a hesitant step toward the armory’s security pad and tried his card.
Jake gasped in astonishment. A mechanism within the door clicked to life on acceptance of the security card. With a final clunk the door was open.
Bursting with curiosity about what was inside he hauled open the heavy door and stepped inside. The walls were lined with smaller locked doors, each with its own complicated looking touchpad. On the rear wall were racks of assault rifles, pistols, grappling guns and bulletproof vests – everything needed to fit out several SWAT teams. Jake felt himself momentarily fixated on the grappling guns; their quadruple-headed hooks sparkled under the lights.
He was, however, not prepared for what lay deep inside the safe against the rear wall of locked cabinets. A large black case was on the floor displayed the words FIM-92 STINGER.
Jake felt his jaw fall open as he stepped toward the black case.
Then, as if immerging from a trance, he helped himself to a grappling gun and returned to the task at hand.
Just in case, Jake thought.
After charging through a locked entry into the offices, Jake found himself in another foyer that looked out to the horizon; a corridor lined by individual offices on either side was to his right. One by one he read the names of the occupants on the doors as he rushed past.
His heart pounded harder when he found the name given to him by Reilly.
Dr. Vladik Primakov.
CHAPTER 50
Dr. Primakov’s office was furnished like any other. Dominated by a large desk, it supported a computer, scattered files and stationery items. The room was filled with bookshelves and filing cabinets.
Jake scanned for a locked drawer or secure cabinet. He felt himself being drawn to the chair behind the desk. The hairs on his neck began to bristle with anticipation. It only took a few moments before he found a lock; the safe had an alphanumeric keypad and was hidden inside a cabinet behind the desk.
In an instant Jake was keying in the access code given to him by Dr. Reilly: ELEMENT115.
The lock released with a click.
Jake felt a rush of exhilaration pulse through his nervous system. He opened the metal door and was presented with a large document-sized drawer and a narrow shelf. He could feel his heart beating against his rib cage as he recognized the butt of pistol next to a stack of what appeared to be ammunition clips. Also on the shelf was a cylindrical canister.
He immediately snatched the cylinder, running his eyes over its gleaming silver surface. The warning sign printed on its metal label made his nerves tingle. It was the universal pictograph representing a biological hazard.
Regardless, he didn’t hesitate to unscrew the cap. Jake thought he heard the hiss of air or gas being released under pressure as the top quarter section screwed off. Relief flashed in his eyes when he saw the familiar I-shaped object cradled inside. Although it was dark inside the canister, light reflected off the object’s metal surface in shimmers of violet.
Returning to the task at hand, he refastened the cylinder’s end cap and pocketed the canister inside his shirt.
Now he slid out the large drawer to reveal a myriad of files, all labeled with various levels of security restrictions. One by one, Jake started sifting through the files.
*
Sitting in the van, with the building behind them, Natasha was staring off into the distance when a small gray speck appeared over the horizon in the sky, catching her attention. She felt a dreaded chill rake her flesh.
She shot an anxious glance at Mark sitting beside her; it was as if a distant fear was suddenly simmering in her eyes. “This is taking too long!”
Natasha was unsettlingly beautiful, and Mark’s words always seemed to get jumbled around her. Mark followed her gaze to spot the small incoming gray speck on the horizon. The small gray dot was closing in fast, growing into an aggressively streamlined shape.
Marked stared at it for a long puzzled moment; he felt a knot tightening in his stomach. His eyes flashed at Natasha then snapped back at the incoming object.
Mark shouted into the two-way, his face wild with disbelief: “Come on, come on, come on! We gotta GO!”
*
Like a shark hunting its prey, the Raptor circled the NRO building. A live video stream from the F22’s point of view was being transmitted to NSA’s Operation Control.
Buried deep inside one of the numerous NSA’s secret metropolitan installations, Operations Control was the nerve center used by the NSA to direct and coordinate tactical field missions and unacknowledged special access programs. Curved rows of computer terminals faced huge wall-sized screens displaying satellite images and video streams from field operations; agents manning the terminals often joked that it seemed they were working at NASA’s Mission Control.
Sabre’s eyes were trained on the Operational Control room’s large central screen as the image rotated around the NRO building and a yellow DHL van came into view. The van was parked with its rear bumper up against building near the entry to the loading dock.
Commentary from the Raptor’s pilot boomed inside the control room. “A single vehicle is parked on the lot.”
Mr. Reilly, so predictable, Sabre thought.
A controller reported on the building’s security status. “There’s been an entry into the structure, but it checks out. The security pass is designated to site staff.”
“Oh no… Jake is definitely in there. Which means so is the sample.”
Sabre’s tone turned frosty. “Level the building. We can retrieve the sample from the rubble; it’s indestructible.”
The controller looked up. “Sir?”
*
Jake had just found the report hidden in Dr. Primakov’s safe when the building shook around him. The sound of the circling fighter jet reverberated through the office corridors, shaking picture frames from the walls.
Instinctively he reached back into the safe to retrieve the gun and a bullet clip resting on the narrow shelf over the file drawer. Along the pistol’s black side was printed “Glock 22”. Working quickly, he deciphered which way the clip should be inserted into the butt.
The instant the clip snapped into place time seemed to stand still. Although not understanding how, images of the F22 firing on the building streamed into Jake’s mind. He then saw himself firing a Stinger missile as a way to escape.
There isn’t much time!
*
By the time Jake had retrieved the Stinger rocket launcher from the armory and planted himself in front of the windows facing the approaching assault, the Raptor had circled the building twice and was making its final descent.
Through the sight he could see the fighter now heading straight for the building, approaching fast.
He released the safety and heard its gyro start to spin, commencing the weapon’s warm-up sequence. Seconds later the weapon started to buzz. This was a sound that Jake recognized; it was the confirmation signal that the Stinger’s sensors had picked up a heat source.
Target locked.
Then Jake’s eyes rocketed wide. His nerves tingled. In that instant he felt super-sensitive, as if the atmosphere in the room had changed. The sensation of streamed images again overtook his mind; he saw himself jumping through a hole that had been blasted through the building’s facade to escape the missile strike, then using the grappling gun to swing back into the building.
He shook off the im
ages and abruptly spun around 180 degrees, squeezing the trigger the rest of the way.
*
Approaching from the other side of the building, the F22 pilot didn’t see the rear wall detonate from the inside. The wall erupted outward in an expanding flash of flames and rubble.
An instant later a figure emerged from the smoke. He had leapt out of the smoldering hole created on the 35th floor of the NRO building and was in a free-fall dive. On his descent he fired a grappling gun back into the building. When its hook took grip Jake found himself swinging in a sweeping arc, accelerating toward the wall, catching a glimpse of the approaching window moments before impact. With barely enough time to curl into a human ball for protection, he had more than enough momentum to smash through the second level facade glazing.
Jake felt the bone-shaking thump as he impacted, forcing the air to be expelled from his lungs. Glass exploded around him as he burst through the window. He felt the sensation of rolling on the floor, again and again, and struggled not to black out as he catapulted across the second-story office.
Thirty-five floors above him, the missiles from the F22 hit the building.
*
Natasha was hysterical.
Mark’s cries of panic didn’t help Natasha’s anxiety. It was the shower of broken glass following the earth-trembling explosion that finally triggered him off. The van was pelted by a myriad of falling debris of various shapes and sizes. The falling debris only lasted for a minute, but to him it felt like hours.
An eerie stillness then settled on the scene. The fighter jet could no longer be heard.
Their eyes met, glazed with shock. They frantically tried to catch their breath, their bodies trembling. A few more moments passed before their nerves began to calm.
Disclosing the Secret Page 22
