The Bovine Connection
Page 22
Angelica shook her head, “It does seem that the general public is always being kept in the dark. And here I’ve been, an investigative journalist in this very city, and these hidden discoveries have been right under my nose this whole time. You seem to know a great deal about this aerospace facility. How do you recommend I proceed?” she asked sincerely.
“Well, first, you should find out who the billionaire is,” Dr. Bishop said.
“Do you have an idea as to who he could be?” Angelica asked with her head cocked.
“The CEO camouflages him from the public,” Dr. Bishop replied.
“Can’t you just follow the paper trail?” Angelica asked, as if she had concluded the best way.
“No, his name appears as F.M.G. There are no photos of him, nothing shedding light on his identity,” Dr. Bishop said, as he raised his hand and scratched his forehead.
“What do you think he’s doing at the facility?” she questioned.
“I may be wrong; however, judging by the artifacts found in ‘The Tomb of the Visitor’… or more accurately, ‘The Chamber of Knowledge’… I believe he’s working on teleportation, and I think he’s going to a planet where the Egyptian visitors supposedly built ancient pyramids, as well. It’s a planet that is steeped in human mythology and fascination, and it’s our neighbor.”
Angelica laughed nervously and tilted her head as he continued. “Mars?”
Dr. Bishop smiled and nodded. “I believe he purchased the blueprints for advanced teleportation technology, perhaps thousands of years more advanced than anything we humans could discover.”
“You do?” Angelica uttered, as she examined Dr. Bishop’s face. “Where is the aerospace facility located?”
“Nevada.” Dr. Bishop straightened his lips.
“Well, I guess I’m heading to Nevada,” Angelica said, sounding uncommitted to the idea.
“Good, I’ll join you.”
Angelica appeared surprised. “Join me?” She chuckled.
“When do we leave?” Dr. Bishop took out a business card from his wallet and handed it to her.
“No one there is going to agree to an interview with a journalist from D.C.,” Angelica said.
“We can try.” Dr. Bishop smiled.
“Or an archaeologist from the Smithsonian,” she said wryly. “Are you sure you want to do this, Doctor?” Angelica stared in disbelief.
“You don’t want to go alone, do you?”
Angelica thought for a moment. “No, I guess that is not the best option considering I might be in danger,” she answered truthfully.
“Good, so when do you want to leave?” Dr. Bishop was anxious.
“Well, let’s see. I have to make some cursory preparations so… in a few days.” Angelica took a deep breath. “Okay, you can make the logistical arrangements and I’ll have my office line up the interview… I’ll call you tomorrow.” Angelica said slowly.
Dr. Bishop rolled the scroll up and placed it back in the tube. He walked over and sat it back on the shelf. “This way, I’ll walk you out.” He motioned and then walked over and opened the door.
“Dr. Bishop, what if they don’t agree to an interview?” Angelica asked as she scrambled her feet to the floor and stood up from the stool.
“Well, I think we go anyway. We could at least get a good look at the facility, and perhaps, ask around a bit.” He winked sheepishly.
Angelica stepped out and then turned around to focus on his earnest eyes. “I’ll wait for your call.”
Chapter Forty-Two
As Angelica stepped out of the Smithsonian’s main entrance, she found herself in the middle of a group of school-aged children who had just gotten out of a nondescript, yellow school bus. Angelica stepped aside so they could pass by her, careful not to bump into any of them.
The children were speaking loudly, visibly excited to enter the museum. Angelica smiled at one of the teachers at the end of the line of children as they finally passed by her. She thought about how naïve and vulnerable they were and she felt a tinge of sadness deep in her stomach.
While at the curb, watching the last child enter the front doors of the museum, a black Lincoln Town car pulled up behind her. It couldn’t have been more than five feet away and she smelled the fumes from the exhaust, pungent and thick in the heat of the summer day. She heard the car door slam and swung around to see two men in black suits stepping onto the curb as one walked briskly towards her. At first Angelica thought they were going to walk past her but then the tall, muscular man in front, who seemed to be in charge, said three words that made her blood turn cold… “Angelica Marie Bradley?” No one ever spoke her middle name. Her mother had given it to her in honor of her grandmother. Angelica stood there completely frozen and time seemed to stand still. One of the men stayed back by the car and was looking around while the man that spoke her full name stepped right up to her. “Do not publish the story, Ms. Bradley.” Then he nonchalantly handed her a rolled up piece of newspaper. “Open it Ms. Bradley.” Angelica slowly opened up the newspaper as her hands began to tremble. She felt moisture forming in the pit of her arm.
It was an article that she immediately recognized. An investigative journalist was found dead from a robbery gone wrong after an intruder had entered his home. Angelica stood there stunned, with her jaw dropped, holding the newspaper with the photo of the victim. The man stood very close to her and with piercing eyes, looked down at her and simply said, “Have a nice day, Ms. Bradley.” She watched with her mouth open, in a daze, as the man turned and walked away. His partner opened the door for him and he quickly got into the black Lincoln. His partner then walked around and opened the passenger side door, staring directly at Angelica as he got in and slammed the door shut.
Angelica felt her body moving into a trance-like state. She stared, mesmerized by the familiar picture of the murdered journalist. Her voice taut with fear… “I covered this story several years ago,” she thought aloud, as she peered at the picture of the man on the newspaper.
Angelica was familiar with all the details of the crime. Although she had never believed the police report stating it was a random crime, she was never able to gather enough information proving her suspicions that he was murdered for revealing the whereabouts of a former Nazi scientist, still wanted for war crimes. He had been living safely secluded and protected, under an alias in Virginia. The dead journalist had uncovered that the former wartime criminal was employed by Hatcher Pharmaceuticals.
A woman’s voice appeared out of nowhere. Angelica jerked and turned. “The light is red, Miss. You can cross the street.” An elderly lady was standing in front of her smiling, appearing concerned.
“Oh, yes, thank you.” Angelica looked around and then quickly ran across the road to where her car was parked.
Chapter Forty-Three
Angelica took the elevator up to her office, passing by the cubicles in the center of the building.
She unlocked her door and turned on the light. Angelica glanced around, suddenly happy to be back. She walked over and sat down at her desk.
“Hey, you’re back! How was it?”
Angelica looked up to see Andrew standing in her doorway. She was careful with her response, feeling it was safer that Andrew not know anything about what had transpired in the last forty eight hours, especially after what had happened to Matthew.
Andrew studied Angelica as he perched on the sleek white lounge chair in front of her desk with easy grace of Gene Kelly. Angelica gripped the arm of her chair and took a deep breath.
“You seem different,” he announced as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Different?” Angelica appeared puzzled. “How so?” she asked, as she shot a quick glance over at him before looking at her computer screen.
“Not sure… Just different,” Andrew pushed the curious thought away. “So how did it go in Montana?” he asked, his voice enthusiastic.
“It is definitely going to be a fascinating story. I can promise you that.”
&n
bsp; Andrew nodded. “Well, how about getting a drink after work?”
Angelica appeared worried as she looked away from her laptop and met Andrew’s eyes. “I’m seeing someone.”
Andrew was shocked. “What? Who? When did this happen?” he said almost in a yell.
Angelica was trying to be sensitive to his feelings. She had never intended on becoming serious with Andrew and assumed he knew it. “His name is Michael Anderson. We met in Montana… It’s hard to explain, it just happened. A lot has happened,” she answered quickly, but softly.
“You fell in love with a cowboy while on a story in Montana. That’s a little bit unexpected, wouldn’t you say?” Andrew cleared his throat, noticeably shocked. His eyes were wide as he adjusted in his chair, staring blankly.
Andrew regrouped his thoughts and continued, “He shovels shit all day! And why would anyone pursue a career lassoing horses? I appreciate it… but how could you, Angelica Bradley, be content with that lifestyle?” Andrew gave a grim chuckle. “You and a cowboy from Montana… Good luck with that!” He shook his head in disbelief.
Angelica was not amused. “Let me put it to you bluntly, Andrew. He’s the cowboy you read about in romance novels… and you’re a Harvard Grad playboy with enough notches on your bedpost to carve a totem pole. Do I need to say more?” Angelica pushed her chair away from her desk and stood up.
“Look, Angelica, just because I don’t sell myself to you, doesn’t mean I’m not a deep, soulful man,” he argued, his tone flat.
Angelica looked exasperated. Cleary he wasn’t getting it, she thought. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Carl and Gail,” she said in a breath, with a look of bewilderment.
Andrew turned his legs so she could pass by. “Well, you and I both know it won’t work,” he announced as he cocked his head and observed her cream colored, high-heeled shoes as she walked out, leaving him sitting alone in her office.
Chapter Forty-Four
Gail was already seated in front of Carl’s desk. As Angelica entered, they both became quiet. Angelica went over and took a seat beside Gail, letting out a long breath of air while leaning back in exhaustion.
”Wow!” Angelica lifted her hand to her temple and then dropped it into her lap.
“Angelica, quite a story we’ve stumbled upon, according to Gail,” Carl said and then looked over at Gail proudly.
Angelica nodded her head and was genuinely confused about where to start. “Guys, this cattle mutilation story has gone way beyond anything we could have imagined. First, let me mention that the reporter from Elberton, Matthew Tillman, is dead,” she announced.
“Yes, I know,” Carl said. “Gail told me. I’m sorry to hear the news. I understand you two became close friends while you were there. How did he die?”
Angelica took another, softer breath and looked down, shaking her head. “It was initially reported as a suicide but now it’s been ruled a homicide. I suspect…”
Gail finished her sentence… “You suspect it was because of your involvement in the story.”
Angelica looked vulnerable. “Yes, because of me, I suppose,” she said sorrowfully as she gripped her knee.
Angelica glanced briefly at Gail who suddenly looked nervous, and then she looked at Carl. “Well then you already know you may be in danger,” Carl said somberly. “Angelica, I have an obligation to inform you that what you’re investigation has been linked to several mysterious deaths.”
Closely examining Carl’s expression, Angelica became suspicious. She instinctively sat up straight in her chair. “Did you know where this story was going? How much did you know, Carl?”
Carl looked back at Gail and she nodded, giving her approval on what he was about to say.
“Yes, I’ve known about Newton’s connection… that there are secret projects there revolving around aliens,” he answered, appearing concerned.
“Did you know about the aerospace facility and the billionaire with a fondness for ancient Egyptian artifacts?” Angelica leaned in closer to his desk, clearly pissed off. “Wait, that’s why--out of all the cattle mutilations--you chose this one! I get it now!” Angelica’s tone was flustered.
Carl nodded. “Yes. And it’s obvious you have accomplished exactly what I expected you, as a crack journalist, to do. You are beginning to put the pieces of this deranged puzzle together.”
“What the hell, Carl? We’re not at the Post anymore - I’m your boss! The Liberator is my magazine! My company! I started it!” she sputtered.
“With our help!” Carl glanced over at Gail and raised his eyebrows.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before I left for Montana? My life is in danger! You had to know it would be! Why did I take this fucking story?” Angelica shouted, then closed her eyes and shook her head.
Gail jumped up and shut the door as a few employees were walking by trying to peep in and eavesdrop.
“Angelica, calm down!” Gail suggested sternly.
Carl looked at Angelica sympathetically. “Angelica, it’s rumored that some people in very powerful positions are up to no good and that’s why I felt it was an important story.”
“So who were you planning on covering the story?” Angelica appeared anxiously curious.
“Steven Jacobs,” he answered confidently.” I never thought in a million years you’d take this story.”
“Oh.” Angelica leaned back and thought a moment. Well, he’s building some fucking alien technology system. Hell, for all we know… he could be planning to blow us all up!” Angelica finished with tight lips.
“Listen Angelica, you must believe me… I didn’t think anyone would get killed! Matthew was a small town journalist. You’re a big city journalist. In the end, maybe it was a warning for you to stop… I don’t know.” Carl shook his head, appearing conflicted. “You can stop, Angelica, and we can edit the story and move on.”
Angelica was feeling a rush of emotions… anger, fear, uncertainty. But without hesitation and with a steely resolve she had never quite felt before she looked directly into Carl’s eyes. “No, Carl, I can’t stop! I have to finish what you started! Come hail or high water this story will be written and published! Angelica laughed spontaneously. “Hell, no one will believe a word of it anyway!
“But seriously, this story has legs like I have never seen before and I am afraid one person has already died because of it.” Angelica’s eyes grew solemn.
Carl pursed his lips. “Okay… Here’s the key. No one really seems to know what is going on in Nevada. That is why we had to go to Elberton. I thought we might stumble across information leading to this mysterious man that has reportedly been seen with John Kaye during the Senator’s visit to Newton’s Air Force Base last year. I know there is a link there, but we just don’t know how deep the trench goes.
By the way, John Kaye just so happens to be the Chairman of the U.S. Ways and Means Committee.”
“Yes, I found that out today,” Angelica sneered.
“Oh.” Carl nodded, appearing unoffended by Angelica’s irritation.
“I’m going to the facility in Nevada. Can you call and set up an interview, Carl?”
“And tell them what?” Carl snarled.
“Figure something out, damn it! The Liberator Magazine is interested in the advancements being made in the field of aerospace, whatever…”
Gail shook her head. “Good luck. I doubt they’ll buy it.”
Carl glanced over at Gail and then back at Angelica. “All right, all right… I’ll see what I can do.” Carl stood up and walked over to a file cabinet, took a set of keys from the pocket of his khaki slacks, and unlocked the bottom drawer. He pulled out a thick expandable file folder. “Angelica, this is above top-secret. This file contains classified information that would scare the shit out of most people,” Carl announced, as he dramatically held the file in the air. “This file was given to me by an anonymous source… ex CIA, that’s all I’ll say. We need to find out who this person is and why he buil
t the facility – and most importantly, how and why John Kaye is involved and then we expose it.”
Carl sat back down. “In this file is a document confirming that a treaty was signed with the same supposed ET race a while back, under the Eisenhower Administration.”
Angelica appeared stunned, and then closed her eyes, shook her head and chuckled sarcastically.
“Yes, you heard me correctly,” Carl continued. “We traded human and animal experimentation for technology… rather fucked up… wouldn’t you say? We sold our souls to the Devil. And the Devil turns out to not have horns and a pitchfork… but instead eyes dark as night, and technology that could end civilization as we know it. Angelica, this information clearly implicates the government’s involvement with the extraterrestrial problem for some time.”
“Problem?” Angelica responded intrigued.
Angelica stared in disbelief. “Carl, you’re lucky I don’t fire you for not telling me this information sooner.”
Carl glanced over at Gail and raised his brows. He felt a wave of relief as he looked back at Angelica.
Angelica raised her fingers to her mouth, she had an idea. “John Kaye has an office at the Capital, correct?” Angelica reached over and took the file from Carl’s desk, then scooted back in her chair.
“Yes,” Gail interjected. Angelica quickly glanced over.
“Well, I’ll start there,” Angelica said confidently as she peered at Gail.
Carl appeared puzzled. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“What the hell. Why not? Let’s see what the honorable Mr. Kaye has to say.” Angelica smirked.
Carl leaned back and clapped his hands with a nervous laugh. “Follow the money… I’m with you.” Carl’s face turned solemn. “But for God’s sake Angelica, please be careful. I am truly sorry I got you into a story as dangerous as this.”
Angelica looked suspiciously at Carl as she rose from the chair. Gail stood up and stepped toward the door. Angelica abruptly turned away from both of them and to their surprise Angelica left without saying a word.