BlackStar Mountain

by T C Miller

  “That mean you’re saying yes?”

  “Yes, but there’s a catch...You take along a bodyguard.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Star whined, “You mean a babysitter...”

  “You won’t notice them...They’ll be there to watch out for you, not interfere with your fun.”

  “Come on...”

  “This isn’t negotiable...I want one of my people there, since I’m trusting you with people I don’t personally know. You’ll also have a radio, in case something happens.”

  “Like owls being too loud?”

  “Or if somebody needs first aid...Or a bear attack...Or who knows what else.”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  The meal ended with a dessert of handmade sherbet and fruit and they headed back to campus.

  UNIVERSITY OF COLORADO

  HIGH SECURITY DORMITORY

  “Sorry about mom’s paranoia...Always been overly protective. It was intrusive when I was young, but now that I’m in college, it’s downright oppressive...This is the time I’m supposed to be able to explore and learn how to be independent...Sorry you got caught up in it.”

  “Not a big deal,” Licia answered. “I’m still getting used to it, myself...Could use some advice. Thinking about asking my uncle if we could do the same thing with my security. I mean, we’re going to be out in the middle of nowhere...Who would bother us?”

  “I don’t know, Licia,” John Banner spoke slowly into the phone “I’m not trying to handcuff you with security. Problem is, we haven’t caught the Russian smugglers or Rick Eichner...They still pose a real and present danger.”

  “I know, Uncle John, it’s just that this camping trip is supposed to be a chance to get out into the woods and enjoy a little freedom before the semester starts. We all promised there’d be no drugs or alcohol. Star’s mom agreed to let her security stay a short distance away and monitor us. Can you do that with me, too, please, please, oh please?”

  “I’m still getting used to this uncle thing...I’ll call Joan in the morning...See if we can work something out.”

  Banner held the phone away from his ear as the squealing shrieks of happiness emanated from it.

  “Thank you, Uncle John, you won’t regret it, I promise!”

  He said goodbye and hung up the phone. Maybe he was being overly protective. A phone call to Jackman to discuss the arrangements should put his mind at ease.

  ***

  CHAPTER 10

  BSOG COMMAND CENTER

  CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN COMPLEX, CO

  “Whatchu need?” asked Bart.

  “Not quite sure, Boss,” Jake replied. “Been going through law enforcement reports and weigh station chatter tracking down that mystery convoy.”

  “Any leads?”

  “Sightings of convoy-like vehicles all over the place...Carnival ride caravans or trade show vendors traveling together...and racing teams moving through the area. Hard to narrow it down without giving away what we’re looking for...But, did get a strong possible.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Couple of employees at a truck stop in Longmont reported some guys in their back lot had two semi-trailers butted up to each other transferring cargo. I asked the Colorado State Patrol to look into it....”

  “Not uncommon,” Bart noted. “Probably an over-the-road trucker transferring merchandise to a local distributor.”

  “Except they showed some serious weapons.”

  “Showed them?”

  “Said they were government agents and ordered the employees to back off, even after being told it was private property. Truckstop guys noticed one of the trailers belonged to a food service company...Thought it was strange they’d be loading from an unrefrigerated trailer. The two semis left right after that with a couple of vans.”

  “Sounds like it could be our bad guys...You put out an APB?”

  “Twenty minutes ago...Nothing back, yet.”

  “Not surprisin’...It’ll take time.”

  “Not much more to do till we get further info.”

  Jake walked back to the break area where Joanna was peeling a yogurt open.

  “Is this an authorized break?”

  “You gonna fire me if it isn’t?” She threw the foil lid into the trash can.

  “Don’t have that kind of power...I’m just a skilled flunky.”

  “Good, ‘cause I really like this job,” she said with a smile. “Going blind staring at monitors...Hoping a break might clear my head and boost my blood sugar...Want one?”

  She pointed to the yogurt with a plastic spoon. “Smells like real raspberries...Tastes great.”

  “No thanks. I’m reminded of a comedian’s line when he asked how can you tell if yogurt’s gone bad?...Know it’s good for you...Tried to like it...Can’t get past the sour taste.”

  “Your loss...Say, wanna do a little exploring?”

  “Where?”

  “Been comparing old USGS maps of the mountain with diagrams of this complex...Found something interesting.”

  “Like, what?”

  “There’s an old road that runs next to the mountain...Thought it was built when they carved out the complex. Come to find out, it’s been there since the turn of the century...Used to haul supplies into mining camps in back of the Front Range.”

  “Makes sense...Have to have some way of getting stuff in and gold or silver out.”

  “Also mapped out some old mines nearby. Couple of them come pretty close to us...In fact, one looks like it’s right next to the ventilation shaft.”

  “How close?”

  “Hard to say...Old maps were usually hand-drawn sketches of approximate locations...Didn’t want to give up too much information to claim jumpers and thieves.”

  “Understandable...So, what you wanna do?”

  “Don’t know for sure...Thought we might take a peek.”

  “Now?” Jake glanced around at the other cubicles and workstations. “Supposed to be working.”

  “I hit a brick wall...How ‘bout you?”

  “Same here...Waiting for callbacks from a bunch of people.”

  “See? We can go out the ventilation shaft service tunnel and, since we’re not leaving through the front...nobody’ll clocks us in or out...Even disabled the alarm system for the shaft.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Gonna chicken out on me?” She meant it more as a tease than a challenge.

  “No, and maybe you’re right...Taking our minds off what we’re working on might help clear our thinking.”

  “So, you ready?”

  “Why not? But, maybe we should tell the boss...”

  “He’s on the phone. Besides, we’ll only be gone for twenty minutes. They’ll think we went to the bathroom, if they even notice we’re gone.”

  “True.”

  The access door to the ventilation shaft service tunnel was locked. Joanna entered a security code into a wall-mounted keypad. The door opened with a gentle whoosh of positive air as they stepped inside. The smell of dust and weeds was more noticeable in the passageway, since the air was not filtered like the other side of the wall. The area was brightly lit by overhead fluorescent lights and showed a layer of dust on the floor with no footprints. They walked about a hundred feet when Joanna paused.

  “Feel the vibrations?...Huge fans that pull the air in.”

  The service way took a right turn and stopped abruptly at a door.

  “I downloaded the combinations and changed them to one code to make it easier.”

  “What happens when maintenance tries to get in?”

  “I’m the Maintenance Monitor...They have to go through me...Besides, we’re highly classified...Nobody else has the code.”

  She entered the six-digit code and the door lock clicked. A turn of the knob and they were in the next section of service tunnel. Another hundred foot or so walk took them to still another door. “I love it when technology works.”

  The next section was not quite as long and Jake commented, �
��That’s one serious door...like a bank vault...Gotta code?”

  Joanna pulled a printout from her back pocket and consulted it. “This should work.” She spun the combination wheel on the door. “Bingo...Should open to the outside.”

  “But it doesn’t.”

  The door swung out to reveal a concrete floor and dark interior. A wall switch had two positions, extend and retract. It was currently in the retract position. “Should I flip it?”

  “Why not?”

  He moved the switch to the extend position and a rumbling noise above and below them was accompanied by an occasional shrieking noise of metal on metal.

  They shrunk back from the doorway as the rumbling increased in volume and the floor beneath them vibrated. The floor stayed in place while the walls and top slid to one side on rails set into the mountain. A sliver of light grew increasingly larger as the cover opened to reveal a twenty-by-thirty foot space with irregularly shaped walls and ceiling that formed a cover over a smooth concrete base.

  “Wow...Smell that fresh mountain air,” Joanna said.

  The cover went just beyond the door and ground to a stop. The side of the mountain opposite them sloped downward. They stepped through the door onto the six-hundred square foot platform with a four-foot tall pipe railing around it.

  A gate in the center of the railing was closed, with a crane and winch mounted securely to the concrete base. A weatherproof control box was fastened to the railing.

  “There’s a road a couple of hundred feet below us,” Jake noted as he carefully leaned over the pipe.

  “They used this to bring up supplies when they built the exhaust system.”

  They turned around to face a camouflaged, five-foot diameter, industrial fan opening next to the cover with a steel-mesh covering. Louvers inside hovered open as the fan sucked in air.

  “Draws in enough air for our section of the mountain.”

  “And more,” Jake replied. “Sure did a nice job.”

  “Tends to happen when national security is at stake.”

  She leaned backward over the railing to get a look at the side of Cheyenne mountain. “Think I see a cave opening on the other side of that rock slide...Least that’s what it looks like.”

  She started to climb over the railing but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

  “Uh, uh,” he said in a firm voice. “That’d be more than just poking around.”

  “I want to see further.”

  “I know, but look down...Couple hundred feet to the bottom. One wrong step and I’d be calling in mountain rescue to haul your skinny butt out. If you really want to explore, we’ll come up on our day off with some serious gear.”

  “Guess you’re right...Curiosity got the best of me.”

  “And you know what happened to the cat...Come on, let’s get back to the office before we’re missed.”

  She flipped the switch and the cover rumbled back into the closed position. He pulled the vault door closed, spun the wheel to lock it and they headed back to the BSOG command center.

  CONSORTIUM OFFICE

  TORONTO, CANADA

  “I can leave tomorrow,” Gunter Wilhelm replied to the Commissioner. “But, I thought you wanted me to stay here until the end of the month.”

  “Events are moving at a faster pace than anticipated and we will require your presence in the new headquarters sooner than originally thought.”

  “Not a problem...I can fly to Denver and rent a car...”

  “That will not be necessary. Someone will be at baggage claim holding a sign with your name on it. Simply call my secretary with your flight number and arrival time. She will also inform Ivan Tcharnovsky.”

  “Is he the reason I’m transferring early?”

  “Ivan is an excellent motivator when a project requires a firm taskmaster. Renovation of the facility is on track and should actually be finished on time. He lacks the finesse, however, for managing long-term operations...Which is why I want you on site to supervise the permanent crew while he oversees the final details of making it operational. The rest of the permanent staff will arrive from Toronto and Mexico City in the coming weeks and you will integrate them into the existing skeleton staff.”

  “Do you foresee any difficulties?”

  “They all speak English, so communication should not be a problem. There are, of course, minor cultural differences, but I am sure you are more than capable of reconciling those.”

  “I appreciate your confidence.”

  “I have no qualms...However, there may be conflict of another sort you will need to address.”

  “Conflict?”

  “Yes. We have clients arriving soon for a stay of undetermined length. They are mercenary-sorts and accustomed to setting their own rules. Make them understand they are guests and should adhere to our protocol.”

  “Will they be staying in staff living quarters?”

  “No, Ivan set up sleeping arrangements in the aboveground structure. They will dine in the staff cafeteria, but will otherwise be encouraged to stay away from permanent staff.”

  “I imagine the situation could become a little tense, with them confined for an extended period of time...They may grow restless...”

  “That is not our worry...Rick and Gregori, their leaders, will keep them in check.”

  “Are there other considerations?”

  “Yes, they will have special material with them to be safeguarded and kept underground to avoid detection. Their men will secure the material, but I want our people overseeing the work.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem...I’ll set up a meeting between our staff security and their people to coordinate arrangements.”

  “Excellent. There may be further activity in that area and I will call you with more details.”

  “When will they arrive?”

  “Tomorrow, or the next day.”

  “In that case, I’d better hit the ground running.”

  “Indeed.”

  JOHN BANNER’S OFFICE

  SOUTH SAN FRANCISCO BAY

  “I’m sure your people can handle security in a city, but this is an isolated location and my agents have better communications gear,” John Banner said to Joan Jackman on his private line.

  “Mine also have sat phones and radios,” she replied in a defensive tone. “I don’t see the difference.”

  “Ours are encrypted. We also have better transportation if there’s an emergency.”

  “Can’t argue with that...My tax dollars at work...Which raises the question, how can you use government resources?”

  “Afraid I can’t answer that...But, it’s an officially sanctioned part of a government operation.”

  “That scares me a little...Is Star safe around Licia? And don’t give me any bull...I can smell it a mile away.”

  “With the security detail we’ve put together...She’s as safe as the president...I’ll bet my life on it.”

  “Remember that. Anything happens to her, I’ll come looking for you myself...And you can give your soul to God, ‘cause your butt is mine.”

  “Spoken like a true mama bear.” He smiled. “Don’t suppose you’ll be in the Bay area anytime soon, will you?”

  “Matter of fact, I have a photo shoot coming up for my next album...Golden Gate Bridge as the backdrop. Hang on a sec...Let me check my calendar...Next Thursday and Friday.”

  “How about lunch?...To discuss the camping trip.”

  His voice held a hopeful tone that went beyond security concerns. There was a pause and he wondered if he had gone too far. An unexpected wave of relief swept over him when she answered.

  “Can’t do lunch either day...Optimum time for outdoor lighting. How about dinner Thursday night?”

  “Just tell me when and where.”

  “How about the Fairmount Crown at eight?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Fine...I’ll have my assistant call with the details.”

  “Looking forward to it. Gotta run...two ca
lls holding...See you next Thursday.”

  “Bye, until then.”

  Her voice had a mellow tone that was lacking at the start of the conversation. It was almost flirtatious. John sat back and grinned like a Cheshire cat. He punched a button to take the next call.

  D CONCOURSE, GATE 29

  DENVER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

  Gunter expected to be picked up by somebody in work clothes driving a pickup or SUV. He was surprised to see a man dressed in chauffeur’s livery, including highly polished boots and short-billed cap, holding a neatly lettered sign that said William Draeger.

  That was the pseudonym he used when traveling and the one that appeared on the complete set of false documents he carried. His driver’s license was issued by the state of Vermont with an address in Burlington for a house he purchased under that name.

  He liked the state’s lack of a required permit to carry a weapon. He also owned a jewelry business in neighboring Connecticut that allowed him to apply for and receive a concealed-carry permit for the Glock 27 in his luggage.

  The driver accompanied him to baggage claim and carried his luggage to the car. Gunter was not surprised to see a gleaming, late-model Mercedes limousine at the curb.

  The driver introduced himself as Leopold, and held the door while he entered the passenger compartment and drew the window curtains closed. Gunter opened a cabinet door to find a well-stocked bar—poured himself a drink of Grant’s twenty-year old scotch—and settled back as the car pulled away from the terminal.

  He reached up to the ceiling-mounted controls after a few minutes and pressed a button that lowered the privacy barrier in back of the driver’s seat.

  “Leopold, how long is the trip to the facility?”

  “A little over an hour, sir,” he replied in a heavy European accent. “Depending, of course, on traffic.”

  “I’m pleasantly surprised by the welcome. Do you work at the complex?”

  “No, sir. I am a personal employee of the Commissioner. I was told to transport you to the operation in Deer Trail.”

  “Very kind of the Commissioner...Is such a gesture customary?”

  “This is the first time I have run such an errand. He apparently wishes to extend a warm welcome to you.”

  “I am grateful.” Could be he doesn’t trust the staff at the underground complex.