Freedom Express (Book 2 of The Humanity Unlimited Saga)

by Terry Mixon

  “I wouldn’t,” the man said. “He has a warrant for your arrest. The smug bastard said the charges were legion, but his favorite was treason.”

  * * * * *

  Nathan was impressed with how quickly money got the paperwork completed. He held a deed in his hand before 5 PM.

  The area over the base wasn’t easy to get to, but it helped if one wasn’t too concerned about knocking over inconvenient trees. The cover story was that he was clearing the area for a new facility. True enough, as far as that went.

  His phone rang. It was his mother. Of course.

  “Mother. I just got the—”

  “Shut up and listen. Queen pulled the trigger on me. The Department of Justice wrote out an illegal warrant to seize all my holdings. They won’t find everything, at least not right away, but you need to keep your head down.”

  He immediately understood. Like the old Rendition program, they’d have someone snatch him off the street, take him to some off-the-books facility, and question him. Thankfully, no one of import knew he was here. And with his connections, he could vanish like a ghost, if he needed to.”

  “I’m secure enough,” he said. “What about you?”

  “I’m on a plane heading for France now. I’m traveling under an assumed name and my people there will make certain I get into the country unmolested.

  “This won’t last long, either. My lawyers are burying them in paperwork. I can’t begin to imagine how many lawsuits they’ve initiated. I expect an injunction from a friendly federal judge in Chicago to put a stop to these shenanigans shortly.”

  He could hear a thread of uncertainty in her voice.

  “I’m sure it will,” he said. “Eventually. I’m more concerned with how much they find out before someone yanks them up short.”

  “Nothing relating to the project you’re on. I made sure that everyone with need to know was clear and at the facility with the ship. The feds won’t find them.”

  That didn’t mean they wouldn’t discover plenty of other wrongdoing. Thankfully, he had backup plans in case everything went down the toilet.

  “What about dear old dad?”

  “That bastard figured this out before I did, as much as I hate to admit it. He sold everything that the US government could get their hands on. Hell, he sold everything except for the holding company that owns the spaceship. All that money went into the company. It owns the island he’s lording it over and the spaceship.”

  He nodded. “That makes sense. If you’re going to stir the hornet’s nest, be ready to run. The irony here is that you bought most of his leftovers from the Chinese, just in time for the US to take it from you. He couldn’t have worked that better if he’d planned.”

  “Watch your mouth,” she hissed. “I’ll get what I own back, along with a strip off Queen’s ass. I need that spaceport and the US isn’t just taking it away from me. And Rainforest is mostly international, even if the majority of sales are in the US.”

  Nathan smiled. He’d hidden his own money very well. He’d do fine, regardless. It was no skin off his back if his mother came out on top or not.

  “As you say. I’ll have some people pick you up at the airport. You’d never find this place on your own.” He got the details from her and hung up.

  With the way things were shaking out, he was glad he’d used his own funds to make the purchase and pay the bribes. Interpol was notoriously bad, but they’d eventually unravel all his mother’s companies.

  And, if things really went downhill, he’d be the owner of record for a very valuable alien find.

  He grinned and headed for his car. There was nothing like hedging one’s bets. He’d come up smelling like roses on this deal. If his mother went down, he could make a play for her holdings. That would all sort itself out over time.

  She’d arrive early the next morning. That gave his people time to isolate where the entrance was and start digging. If it was where he thought, they might get into the place tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Queen stepped off the plane at the Yucatan Spaceport. FBI agents, Mexican police, and more than a few US soldiers filled the airport.

  They’d already rounded up the remaining employees—both Chinese and American—and were sorting them out. They’d question the Chinese and then expel them from Mexico.

  The Americans would get rougher treatment. Some of them were employees of Clayton Rogers. Others worked for his ex-wife. Both sets probably knew things that he wanted to know. He’d make sure they told the agents everything before he charged them with treason.

  He spotted Special Agent in Charge Pembroke waiting for him near a cart.

  The skeletal man smiled as Queen approached. “Mister Secretary. Welcome to Mexico.”

  “Not for much longer,” he said as he shook the man’s hand. “We have an agreement in principle to treat this as a special territory, like Cuba does for Guantanamo. It didn’t come cheaply, but it ends up serving both countries’ national interests. Have you had any luck finding Kathleen Bennett?”

  The tall man grimaced. “No. After she disappeared in Chicago, I thought she might have fled down here, but no one seems to have seen her. We’ll have to search the place from top to bottom and question everyone to be sure, but she must have gone another direction.”

  “I figure Clayton Rogers’ people would hand her over pretty quick, if they had any idea where she was.”

  “Me, too. Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour and then you can sit in while we question the senior flight director.”

  They climbed onto the back of the cart and it sped away, taking them to where a car would pick them up.

  “Frankly, I’d rather skip the tour and get to the questioning,” Queen said. “These people are up to something. They’re playing a game where we don’t know the rules and that has to stop.”

  In a low voice, he filled the agent in on what he knew.

  The man listened quietly until Queen finished and then looked at him sternly. “We have laws against telling tall tales to feds.”

  Queen smiled. “It does sound like something out of a fairy tale, doesn’t it? Let me assure you that I’m not the one making this up. Something odd is happening and we don’t have the full picture. Yet.”

  They climbed into a black SUV in front of the airport terminal and it took them to the flight control building. There were a lot of federal agents and soldiers here, too.

  Pembroke led him to a small conference room. The feds escorting them settled against the wall as they sat down in front of an overweight man in shirtsleeves. His face was overly red, but Queen couldn’t tell if that was because he was angry or had blood pressure issues. Or both.

  “Mister Secretary,” Pembroke said, “this is Avery Jackson, the senior flight director for the Yucatan Spaceport. Mister Jackson, Secretary of State Josh Queen of the United States of America.”

  Queen leaned forward, letting his full title help intimidate the man. “You’ve got a lot to answer for, Mister Jackson. Your employer—and you—have committed acts of treason against the United States of America.”

  If that fazed the man, it didn’t show in his expression. “With all due respect, Mister Secretary, you’re full of shit.”

  He was holding up better than Queen had expected, but that made sense. He was a flight director, just like in the old NASA days when Apollo 13 had gone terribly wrong. Jackson had to be able to act even when everything was going into the toilet. Especially then.

  “You smuggled nuclear material into orbit,” Queen said. “You built a spacecraft capable of reaching Mars and turning a dead comet into some kind of weapon. You need to tell me everything or you won’t be going back to the US. They have some very uncomfortable cells in Cuba. Don’t make me send you there. Save yourself.”

  The man shrugged. “So we built a spaceship. Big deal. Other people have, too. There’s no law against it. Just because the US gave up doesn’t mean everyone else will.”

  “You used an unaut
horized nuclear reactor,” Pembroke said. “The UN didn’t allow for you to have something capable of propelling a spaceship.”

  Jackson turned his gaze to the federal agent. “So? Since when did the US start giving one rat’s ass what the UN does or doesn’t do? Isn’t the US busy denying them membership dues because they’re too corrupt?”

  That was exactly what Queen was doing, but that was beside the point. “You don’t need to be concerned with the relationship between the US and the UN, Mister Jackson. All that matters in this case is that you did a no-no. One that can send you to prison for a very, very long time. I want to know what you built up there.”

  The man leaned back and considered Queen. “At the risk of sounding pedantic, a spaceship. In case the unspoken words ‘you idiot’ weren’t clear, I’ll do you the courtesy of adding them this once.”

  Queen counted slowly to ten before continuing. “Tell me about this spaceship. What propels it? Why go to Mars? And why send a dead comet out of the solar system?”

  “I have no idea what you mean about the comet. As for the spaceship, it uses deuterium-tritium pellets as fuel. The reactor fuses them and the energy propels the ship. Safe as houses. No nuclear bombs.

  “Their mission is to put mining outposts on various asteroids and build colonies where jack-booted thugs like you can’t go. Oh, and to make an ass ton of money.”

  “That doesn’t explain the trip to claim Mars or sending a comet out into deep space.”

  Jackson shrugged. “I think you’re making that shit up. Not Mars, the comet. I’m not surprised they made a point of going to Mars first. They wanted to show the world they were serious. I don’t know anything about claiming it.”

  Queen smiled thinly. “You didn’t see the young man claim Mars for Humanity Unlimited? I thought it was the most watched video ever.”

  Jackson shook his head. “You just don’t get it. He wasn’t claiming the planet. He was saying we could do anything we set our minds to. That we didn’t have to let ass clowns like you plant your heels on our necks. He was putting you on notice that your time in charge is almost done.”

  “We’ll see who’s done when this is all over. Take him away. Lock him up nice and tight. If Mister Jackson keeps up this attitude, we’ll be sending him to Guantanamo with the rest of the unrepentant terrorists. I doubt he’d like 40 years there, like some of the fellows from Afghanistan have had.”

  The federal agents dragged Jackson out. Queen listened to him bray about his rights for a moment and then turned to Pembroke.

  “I want every computer system in this place searched. Leave no byte unturned. I want the plans for this ship. Anything Rogers can do, we can do better. Let’s see how free he feels when we ship a few hundred marines out to take everything away from him.

  “And then start on Bennett’s people. I want her in a cell beside her ex-husband.” Queen smiled. “He’s going to be getting an unexpected and unpleasant wakeup call very soon.”

  * * * * *

  Clayton rose more refreshed than he had in years. Perhaps he’d been wrong to dismiss a vacation away from all the stresses of his professional life.

  He dressed and threw back the flap of his tent. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, but the horizon was brightening. It wouldn’t be long now.

  They’d switched over to a helicopter and flown back in time to set up camp just up the ridge from the plateau. The helo was nestled below them, all tied down.

  The camp they’d chosen would have a stellar view of the rising sun. It had taken several trips to get everyone and all the gear they needed for a few days’ exploration out here. Half a dozen tents sat around a campfire. One of the hands was making breakfast and it smelled wonderful.

  He made a trip to the latrine they’d dug the night before, walked back to the fire, and saw it was Mick. The man looked up and smiled.

  “Morning, Mister Rogers. It’s going to be a nice one. I can already tell.”

  Clayton sat down on one of the logs they’d dragged up and accepted coffee in a battered metal mug. It was scorching hot and perfect for the chill morning.

  “I hope so. Mick, right?”

  “You have a good memory. Mick Bird. I’m one of the supervising hands on your station.”

  He’d signed the papers last night and made the payment. All this was now his. They’d even paid a government clerk to come back in to town to register the transfer. He now owned more sheep than he’d ever know what to do with.

  “I’ll eventually know everyone’s name and a good bit about them. Take care of your people and they’ll take care of business. That’s a lesson I took to heart and one that will serve you well, too.”

  The man grinned. “Hell, I already knew that. This place is more like family than a business. It shows.”

  “Then I won’t need to do very much at all. You and your co-workers can keep doing what you do. I’ll learn as I go.”

  “Make sure you come down for the shearing. That’s a sight you’ll never forget.”

  Clayton could only imagine.

  They sat in silence while the sun slowly rose above the horizon. It was glorious. The cold, clear, pure air made for some vivid colors.

  “Never will get used to that,” Mick said. “I grew up in Wellington. Mind you, it’s clean, but it’s still a city. You don’t get nature like this there.”

  “What brought you out to work on a sheep station, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “My brother. That’s Samuel. He always had a hankering for working off the grid. They had a spot open and he pushed hard for me. I wasn’t sure it was the right decision at first, but now I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

  Clayton smiled. “I hadn’t pegged you as brothers, but I see it now. He’s a bit bossy, isn’t he?”

  Mick laughed softly. “You have no idea. Always been like that. It’s okay, though. I fight back when it’s worth it. He’s a good, loyal man to have at your side in a sticky moment. What are the plans for the day?”

  “We’ll eat and then do a survey of the area,” Clayton said. “I bet the ridge would be a fine spot for a getaway cabin. In any case, I want to know what’s around here first. Plan on being out here a couple of days, at least.”

  “No worries. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to wake the sleepy heads.”

  Mick made the rounds and woke everyone. Penny looked a bit tussled as she made her trip to the latrine, but she had everything in order once she ducked back into her tent, dressed for the day, and made her way to the campfire.

  “Morning,” she said, yawning. “You’re up early.”

  “I’m a habitually early riser. I hope you slept well. It turns out I should’ve camped rather than staying in the house the other night. I feel terrific today.”

  “I think a wolf snuck into my tent and twisted me into a pretzel.”

  He laughed. “Perhaps a cot would help. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few shipped out on the next supply run. Be wary of the coffee. It’s hot and strong. Perhaps even corrosive.”

  She shuddered. “I’ll stick to tea, then. What are your plans for the day?”

  Clayton checked to make sure no one was close enough to overhear them. He pitched his voice low, in any case. Sound carried in the quiet air.

  “A general search of the area. We’ll make a map as we go and see if anything jumps out at us. They’d have built this base before humans lived on this island. It’s possible we could find some sign of it.

  “If we do, we make sure not to draw any undue attention to it. We’ll come back another time and examine it more closely.”

  An unbirdlike chirping disturbed the quiet. His sat phone in his tent. Very few people had the number, so it was probably important.

  He rose to his feet and retrieved it. “Yes?”

  “The US government seized the Yucatan Spaceport,” his assistant said. “They’re in the process of locking down every company you sold.”

  “Then I suppose it’s a good thing I sold them,” he said w
ith a chuckle. “And an even better thing that my ex-wife bought them from the Chinese. Her bad luck. She deserves it.”

  “Yes, about that. They’ve issued warrants for her arrest, and yours, I might add. The charges are numerous, but treason is high on the list. They’ve seized a number of her wholly owned companies and she’s gone underground.”

  Clayton considered that. “Treason is a strong charge. Especially for her. She’s probably done something to earn it, but they’re acting in a much more straightforward manner than I expected. Have they shown up looking for me?”

  “Questions have been asked in Australia. They paid a number of people there visits, including the government. They’re seeking extradition.”

  “Awkward when I have diplomatic immunity there.”

  “I assume that’s because they don’t recognize it. And we know what the US does when they can’t legally take someone into custody.”

  Clayton looked out the tent toward the campfire. “Yes, they send in a black bag team and take them. Or kill them. I wasn’t obvious about going to New Zealand, but they’ll find me. At least they’ll learn I’m here somewhere. The land purchase will bring them calling in short order.

  “I really shouldn’t stay any longer than needed. Send one of Harry’s teams to the station. Keep it quiet and muddy the waters with a false itinerary. Only the pilot gets the correct destination along with sealed orders to open them halfway to Brisbane. I’ll extract when they arrive.”

  He disconnected the call and considered the time it would take to fly in. He had the rest of the day to explore. Even if they tracked him down to the station, they’d never locate him out here in the back end of nowhere.

  Mister Durey didn’t know precisely where they were and probably wouldn’t be very cooperative if nosey people came searching for him.

  Meanwhile, he had breakfast to consume and then he’d start exploring the wonderful wilderness. If Lady Luck showed him favor, he might even find the hidden entrance to the base before he left his American pursuers in the dust.