The Phoenix Egg

by Richard Bamberg

  Holdren had to laugh again. “Ms. Maxwell, you are just too much. You really think this bodyguard you hired is good enough to get to me?”

  “Everyone can be gotten, Holdren. It’s just a matter of motivation and patience.” Christ, had she really said that? She was beginning to sound like John.

  “I won’t argue with that, but you must realize that means Blalock can also be gotten.” Holdren stopped. What had she said? She’d called him by name. Where had she learned his name? Could Blalock have a contact inside the agency? Maybe they should take him alive. Questioning him might prove to be useful. “You’re going to be coming with me, Ms. Maxwell. You can either come peacefully or we can drug you and take you out on a stretcher.”

  She glared at him for a moment and he realized she was more attractive than he had first thought. Perhaps it was the anger. It gave her a healthy glow.

  “I’ll go peacefully.”

  He looked at her carefully. He had no doubt that she’d only be as peaceful as necessary. As long as she thought Blalock would try to rescue her, then she would be predictable. “That’s better. I’ll leave you alone to dress. You have five minutes.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “On a little trip,” Holdren responded without turning.

  ***

  John threw open the door to the bedroom and stormed into the kitchen. Bright light from a rising sun poured in through the windows to his left. To his right, the sun reflected off the snow covered western mountains and the rolling plains of the foothills.

  The Gunny sat at the dinette table, working on a piece of electronic equipment. “Well, Captain. It’s good to see you’re up. I was afraid I’d have to call for the coroner.”

  “Not likely. They’re starting to move her, Gunny. I need to get after them.”

  “Don’t go rushing around too fast. Do you know where they’re taking her?”

  “Not yet, but I need to be ready.”

  “Come, sit here. I’ll fix you something while we work out what you can do, breakfast okay?”

  “I don’t have....”

  “Don’t be giving me that, Captain. There’s nothing you can do until you get some food in you. Never go off halfcocked, you know what that got you the last time.”

  John fingered the scar that ran down the left side of his face and nodded.

  The Gunny stood and went to the cupboards. “That’s better. Eggs, bacon, biscuits, and jelly will get you going. The coffee isn’t too fresh, but I put some of it in the Thermos in case you wanted some when you woke.”

  John sat down and examined the equipment Gunny had been working on. It was another repeater like the one John had used to increase the range on the egg.

  A minute later, the Gunny set a large mug of steaming coffee in front of John.

  “What’s this, Gunny?” John asked as he indicated the equipment.

  “Just what it looks like,” the Gunny answered as he clattered pans around.

  “A dual frequency repeater?”

  “That’s right. I picked up a couple of them yesterday along with some other things you may find a use for.”

  “Why a dual frequency repeater?”

  “Where’s your sense at, Captain? You know they can trace the signal to you. But they’ll only be looking for the frequency that keys into these egg things of yours. Right?”

  “Yeah, of course. I must have been shot in the head or something. You’ve placed a repeater somewhere else. It picks up Caitlin’s broadcast and frequency shifts it to this repeater. This repeater shifts the frequency back and transmits the signal to me.”

  “That’s right. You should have thought of this already. I know I taught you better. How would you like your eggs?”

  “Over easy, please. What’s this other equipment you have for me?”

  “You want to be able to rescue the fair damsel, right? Well, if you’re going to play hero you’ll need some field leveling hardware.”

  The Gunny cooked while going over a shopping list that would have made the day of any professional thief, or maybe a terrorist. Many of the items could only have been procured illegally, but John didn’t ask where or how he had acquired them. He had also driven John’s rental back to the airport and rented a Lincoln Navigator using one of John’s alternate ID’s.

  Another broadcast from Caitlin interrupted their conversation. “John, we’re going up in the elevator. I think they’re moving me by helicopter.”

  “All right, Caitlin. Keep me informed. I’m too far away to get there before you leave, but I should be able to track you. Keep me informed.”

  “They’re putting her in a helicopter. What places around here might they move her to?” John asked.

  “By helicopter? Well, they could take her to Fort Carson, it’s pretty secure, but Schriever is the most secure area around here other than the mountain.”

  “Schriever, that’d be difficult. I was hoping they’d pick someplace a little less secure than that.”

  “That’s the problem with world class villains; they like to make things difficult.”

  John didn’t reply. The Gunny was always trying to get his goat, but usually, like now, John just didn’t feel like being amused.

  The Gunny set a plate filled with crisp bacon, three eggs, and enormous biscuits in front of John. “There’s no point in worrying about how bad it could be until you actually know where they’re taking her. It might not be Schriever at all.”

  “Uh huh,” John mumbled through a mouthful of biscuit.

  “So what are your plans? Are you going to storm the castle with fire and brimstone, kill all your enemies, and carry the maiden away on your white charger?”

  John felt his face warm. “I don’t expect it to be easy. I’m not totally stupid.”

  “No, but neither are your opponents. From what you’ve told me you must know that they’re still after you. You have the helmet and the disk. They’ll want both. Besides, didn’t you say that the Frenchman also wanted you alive for testing the translators?”

  “Yeah, but that was the French. I figure our government must have more of these things, so what do they need me for?”

  Zim looked at him curiously. “Are you expecting an answer?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because you aren’t going to get one from me,” Zim added. “Look, Johnny, you know I want to go with you, but let’s be realistic. From what the doctors tell me, my heart wouldn’t make it through ten minutes of that much excitement. Hell, I can’t even watch a Broncos’ game anymore, but I’ll still go with you if you think I can help.”

  “I know Gunny and I understand. You’ve already helped me more than I could ask from any man, but there is something else you can do for me.”

  “Anything, Johnny. Absolutely anything.”

  “I want you to keep the helmet and the disk. There’s a group of computer hackers that call themselves CHAOS. They’ll know what to do with the file.”

  “CHAOS? Sounds like something from ‘Get Smart’.”

  “Yeah, doesn’t it? It stands Computer Hackers Alliance for Open Speech, but their actions are a little broader than just supporting free speech on the Web. They seem to think that all information should be freely available to the public. Like the old Green Peace organization, peaceful demonstrations are too Ghandi-like for them. They’d rather hack into a government computer and wipe every file they find.”

  “How do I get in touch with them?”

  “My best link to them has been compromised, but I have another one. I’ll leave you everything you need to reach them.”

  “And what do I do with the helmet?”

  “Bury it. Literally, that’s what I’d do with it. Find an isolated spot and cover it with dirt. Then act like you’ve never heard of it or me. If I make it through this, I’ll eventually try to recover it, but otherwise....”

  Gunny nodded once. “And what about your lady friend, assuming you don’t make it back?”

  “You’d be better o
ff to act like you’d never met me, but if you insist on helping....”

  “I do.”

  “Then find a good lawyer and try getting her out through official channels. It may take a few years, but I’ve got enough money stashed away to afford a good one. I’ll give you the transfer codes and if you haven’t heard from me in a couple of days it’s yours to do as you see fit.”

  “I understand, Johnny.”

  ***

  It was afternoon before John had the Navigator loaded and was on the road. The storm had passed heading south into New Mexico and the air was a crisp blue. He needed to get up on the Web, but couldn’t chance logging on at Gunny’s place.

  The last report from Caitlin had them flying southwest and Romax had even remarked something about going to Los Alamos. That gave John a direction, but he wanted to make sure. South of Pueblo he pulled into a rest area and used his cellular to dial up a public link to the Web.

  It didn’t take him long to locate Forester.

  After a brief introduction, with a password Louie had given him for emergencies, John explained what he needed. Forester agreed to research the problem and pass the information along at John’s next call.

  John caught up with the storm front at Trinidad. The road crews were keeping the interstate open, but conditions grew steadily worse as he crossed the pass and descended into Raton. At Raton, he left the interstate and took 64 toward Taos and Los Alamos.

  It was dark before he reached Taos. He picked up a burger and fries at a Blake’s Lotta Burger and logged back onto the Web while he ate.

  Forester had come through for him. There was only one place in the Los Alamos area that was isolated, secure, and completely off all maps and the records of government installations.

  John didn’t ask where or how Forester had acquired the information, but thanked him politely and then downloaded everything Forester had.

  The facility map had the location of the outer fence, buildings, and its relation to the main Los Alamos complex. As the translator fed the information into John’s memory, he selected the optimal entry location and logged off the Web.

  As he drove south on Highway 68 out of Taos, he wished the information had contained security details.

  CHAPTER 27

  The storm had dumped six inches of wet snow in the Jemez Mountains by the time John backed the Navigator off the highway onto the service road.

  He killed the engine and doused the lights, then sat quietly in the vehicle. The big V-6 engine pinged as it cooled. The research facility was hidden both by ponderosa and lodge pole pines that hung heavy with snow and by the swirling clouds of snow that limited visibility to a few yards.

  There was only one entrance to the isolated facility and it was at the north end. There the narrow arm of the mesa joined the rest of the plateau at the edge of the Jemez Mountains. In better weather, if he had been uninjured, John would have preferred to infiltrate the facility by climbing the rock face of the mesa. It would have been the less obvious route and his rock climbing skills were adequate.

  But since that was no longer an option, he’d picked the shallow arroyo that he’d passed a hundred yards back up the road as the most likely point of penetration. He’d come prepared to defeat electronic surveillance and the storm would make that part of his task easier.

  He removed the key from the ignition and slipped it under the floor mat. There wasn’t much chance of a car thief coming along in the next hour, but you could never tell. He opened the door and the strong wind billowed out his jacket. He ran the zipper up to his neck and then trudged through the snow to the rear of the Navigator. At the rear hatch, John slipped night goggles over his eyes and adjusted them. In the greenish cast of the vision, his equipment bags were dark shapes.

  John opened the first, removed the tracker, and activated it. In a few seconds, its LCD screen illuminated and pointed the direction of Caitlin’s signal. As agreed, she was keeping up a continuous chatter over the translator without expecting a reply from John. If he replied, Holdren’s men would quickly locate him. After he was inside the complex, it would be another story. Their triangulation equipment might pick him up miles away, but at close range, the signals would merge together into a single source. Unless they were being clever. If they were expecting him then they could run the signals through a computer to separate out the encoding and decipher which was which. But that was one of the chances he’d have to take. One of many.

  First, he had to get inside.

  John draped a bag over each shoulder. Then he took out the poncho he’d sprayed with an inch thick layer of open cell foam and pulled it over his head and shoulders. He closed the rear hatch, and then followed his tire tracks back to the pavement.

  John didn’t see the arroyo until he was almost on it. He paused at the steel guardrail and caught his breath. His exertion was low level, so far, but already he felt tired, drained. He fished in his pocket for a Hershey’s chocolate bar, ate it ravenously as he descended the steep bank, and then crammed the wrapper back into the pocket. Fifty yards up the arroyo, he saw the fence. It was a typical chain link fence, but it was ten feet high and topped by a single helix of concertina razor wire, just what you’d expect to find at the edge of a national forest.

  John crouched beside a boulder and studied the fence. It ran horizontally across the top of the arroyo. Spanning the walls of the arroyo, between the bottom of the fence and the snow-covered floor, was six feet of steel grating. The bars were spaced wide enough to let normal water flows pass unhindered and yet narrow enough to keep even a child from sliding between them. But the narrow bars would act as a dam on the rare occasions when a summer storm would send an avalanche of water screaming down the arroyo. For those times, the massive grating had been hinged to fold back away from the torrent and allow whatever flotsam the water carried to pass beneath the fence without tearing it away.

  Microwave motion detectors would provide the outer perimeter security for the fence. Here at the arroyo, John could see one aimed to cover the base of the fence between the banks. The next detector would be located to cover this one so no one could sneak up and disable one of the sensors without triggering another. Somewhere, there would also be a camera. Security cameras were usually monitored at random intervals and a human guard’s attention would wander, particularly at three in the morning when the cameras all showed a swirling mass of snow blowing across the lenses.

  However, if anything triggered one of the microwave sensors the adjacent cameras would activate and focus on the trouble spot. That always warranted the guard’s full attention.

  In order to get past the fence John would have to transverse the microwave field without triggering an alarm. The fence was probably motion sensitive, so any movement would trigger another alarm. But with any luck, the guards would have disabled the fence motion detector because of the wind. Fence detectors were notorious for giving false alarms during a strong wind. Debris, paper, bits of plastic, even tumbleweeds would strike the fence and each successive gust would cause the fence to alarm.

  There. A camera was mounted opposite the microwave detector. Its focus was the center of the arroyo and the opposite bank. By staying close to the near wall, he might be able to remain either clear of its field of view or at the periphery where slow movements would be less likely to be noticed by human eyes.

  John removed a field strength meter from one of the bags and activated it. The microwave energy levels were less than a microvolt per meter. The energy levels would max out in the millivolt range unless whoever ran security here had disregarded the OSHA safety standards and cranked up the outputs.

  Rising out of his crouch, John adjusted the balance of his burdens beneath the poncho. Then stooping once more, John dropped lower until his butt was on his heels, then he duck-walked along the shadow of the near bank. He moved slowly, for motion detectors were more sensitive to a rapid change of field patterns than to a gradual change.

  He kept the field strength detector clos
e to his face so it would be readable and to keep its metal parts beneath the cover of his poncho hood.

  The field strength rose rapidly as he neared the fence.

  Someone had disregarded safety standards. When he stopped at the base of the grate, the energy levels had peaked at nearly a volt per meter, far above normal safety levels. Someone wanted to make sure any movement was detected. If it hadn’t been for his makeshift cloak, John wouldn’t have been able to get within ten feet of the fence.

  Moving the detector along the grating, John was thankful to find that the metal itself was uncharged. That meant no electrification and no capacitance sensors. He could touch the grating without setting off an alarm.

  John pulled a large rock next to the grating and braced his feet in the snow. He pushed against the grating. It moved, but only a fraction of an inch.

  Well, he hadn’t expected it to be easy.

  Bracing his back against the grating, John clasped both hands around bars and shoved against the snow-covered sand. As he strained, the heavy grating began to move.

  His gaze fell on something he hadn’t noticed in the deep shadows at the edge of the grating. He froze and then slowly let the grating return to its original position.

  Moving toward the object, he quickly saw it was a tiny position indicator, a limit switch that closed when the grating moved past a set point. If he had opened the grate another inch the switch would have triggered.

  The switch was mounted on a metal plate set against the unmoving bars at the grating’s edge and its tiny roller was compressed by another plate mounted on the grate itself. A pair of light gauge wires, covered with thick insulation, ran from the back of the switch to a nearby junction box.

  Which was it? Normally open or normally closed? He guessed that it was closed as long as the grating was closed. Then opening the grating would interrupt a circuit and close a relay back at security’s command post.

  John rummaged through his bags until he found the small Fluke multi-meter. He activated it and pressed its leads against the tiny wires. The readout showed no voltage. That was one indication that the switch was closed. He changed the setting to microvolts and looped one of the leads several times around one of the wires. This time he detected a slight electric field, indicating a current flow in the wire.