"I'm telling you the truth."
"And why do you want to unblock the GPS signal?"
"Just curious about where I am."
"Curious?" He arched an eyebrow. "After eight years?"
Burke shrugged. "You can never imagine what boredom might inspire you to do."
"Is it a coincidence that your inspiration came right after Dr. Heather's visit?"
Burke was at a loss for words for a couple of seconds. For some reason, he didn't like the notion of involving Heather in the matter. He had only met her once, and their meeting had been a bit brief, but he liked her already. Although he didn't exclude the possibility that she could be just another agent whose job was to extract information from him, he still found her a nice lady.
"She has nothing to do about it," Burke replied curtly.
Jonathan's eyes were still scanning Burke's face. "Why do I feel that you are protecting her?"
"Protecting her from what? Did you watch our conversation?"
"I'm watching you right now." Jonathan gave him a lopsided smile. "And I have seen enough. Now I know where the next interrogation should start from." He rose from his seat.
"You're not going to interrogate her for real, Agent Jonathan." Burke had no idea what that victorious look on Jonathan's face was for.
"You should rather worry about who is going to interrogate you, punk." Jonathan gave him a wry smile. "Trust me, it's going to be a very long week."
8. That Phone Call
Jonathan squinted into the screen when he saw her pacing in the corridor outside his office. That was Heather, the scientist from the Pentagon who had visited Burke in Maine. "What is she doing here?" Jonathan asked his assistant. Only a few in this country knew about this place.
"She says she's here for Burke," his assistant replied. "That's why I brought her to you."
"Bring her to me," he urged his assistant. Heather's presence here was not a coincidence. He knew she was involved with that punk.
His assistant went to the door, and the moment she opened it, Heather rushed inside. "Are you the one in charge here?" Heather took him off guard with her firm tone.
"Any help, Dr. Heather?" Jonathan gave Heather a studying look, but she didn't seem impressed at all by the fact that he knew her name without any previous acquaintance.
"I presume you know who I work for, Agent. The man you hold in your custody belongs to us now."
"What are you talking about?" he snapped.
"Jeff Burke, Agent," she curtly said.
"Bullshit. I have nothing official about that."
That bitch dared to glare at him. "I would mind my words if I were in your place. The whole matter is highly classified and above your ability to understand."
What the hell is going on here? "That Burke is not leaving anywhere until my bosses say something else."
"I have no time for your bosses." She picked up her cell phone from her pocket. Did she think she could scare him that way?
"Call Mr. President himself if you want, but you will never get—"
"I am so sorry, sir," Heather interrupted with a firm hand gesture as she talked over the phone. "I know, I know; this number is only for emergencies, and I believe I am having one now. . . Well, it seems that they haven't received their orders about our man yet. . . Hold a second, sir." Heather turned to Jonathan. "What's your name?"
"Jonathan," he replied impassively. He had to admit he was a bit curious about the identity of the person talking to her on the other end.
"Agent Jonathan, sir." Heather was back to her phone conversation. "He's the one in charge here."
He doubted if he should feel flattered by that description at this very moment.
"He wants to talk to you." Heather handed Jonathan her phone.
"Who?" Jonathan held the device in his hand.
"Mr. Secretary of Defense himself." Heather looked him in the eye. "Haven't I told you yet? He's my boss."
She couldn't be bluffing. She wouldn't dare to. Jonathan had made a quick investigation about her before and he knew she was just a scientist in one of the Pentagon research units.
"I wouldn't leave him hanging up if I were you." She arched an eyebrow. Dammit! What if she is right?
Clearing his throat, Jonathan lifted the phone to his ear. "This is Agent Jonathan."
"Good afternoon, Agent Jonathan."
The voice coming from the other side was his indeed; the voice of the Secretary of Defense of the United States of America.
"Sir?" he warily said.
"This is an unprecedented measure, Agent Jonathan," said Mr. Secretary. "But the time we have is too tight to follow any usual protocol. Soon you will receive your official orders from your direct boss, but now, you must release Jeff Burke. Starting from this moment, he is in Dr. Heather's custody. Is that clear?"
Releasing Burke? That didn't sound quite right. "But, Mr. Secretary. . ." Jonathan was at a loss for words.
"That's not a discussion, Agent Jonathan. That's an order." Mr. Secretary's voice was getting firmer. "Make sure you don't delay Dr. Heather."
"Of course, sir." The second Jonathan finished his phrase, the call ended. What had just happened? A phone conversation with the Head of the Pentagon? And for whom? For that punk in his custody?
Jonathan returned the phone to Heather. "Follow me." He went past her to the door. Heather caught up with him in the corridor while she was making another phone call. Whom was she calling this time? The President himself?
"Are you taking him on your own?" he asked her when they reached Burke's room.
"My men are coming over." She closed her phone before she nodded toward the shut door of Burke's room. "I hope you have been keeping him in a good condition."
"We don't have lake-view rooms here." Jonathan forced through clenched teeth as he opened the door.
Heather didn't respond to his honest remark as she watched Burke through the open door. Jonathan swore he spotted a faint smile that lasted for a millisecond on her face when Burke called out to her. She ignored the punk and walked away from his sight, her eyes on her peeping phone.
"Satisfied?" Jonathan asked, but again she didn't say a word. All she did was press her lips together.
"My men are standing outside by the door. Would you please let them in?" she coldly asked despite her gentle words. Reluctantly, Jonathan motioned his assistant to let Heather's company into the office. In a minute, two jerks joined Heather and Jonathan, who were still standing outside Burke's room. "You know what to do." She nodded with her chin toward the open door.
"These are your men?" Jonathan asked in disapproval as he watched her jerks handcuff Burke and drag him outside. Who are those punks? Not the agents he expected the Pentagon would send to escort and protect their valuable asset.
Heather ignored him for the third time and strode ahead of her men toward the office door. Until they took Burke with them outside, the punk didn't stop mumbling about the handcuffs that hurt his wrists.
The moment they all disappeared behind the closed door, Jonathan started to feel something was wrong. I swear those two idiots are not agents. "Find out who those two men are. Quickly!" he demanded. His assistant hurried to her computer, her fingers playing smoothly on the keyboard.
"Our connections are temporarily off," his assistant announced.
Jonathan needed a few seconds to digest the news. "What the hell does this mean?"
"Everything is dead now. Internet, intranet, and even landlines."
"No way." Jonathan picked up his cell phone to check the network signal, and indeed it was down. How was that possible? He was sure his device was working fine today. Even Heather managed to make calls with her. . .
Wait a minute. That connection problem was not a coincidence. It was that bitch; he knew she was up to something.
"Where are you going, Agent Jonathan?" his assistance asked as he hurried to the door.
"Find a way to solve the connection problem," Jonathan urged her, standing at t
he doorstep. "I will find a damn phone booth."
9. No Way Back
While riding shotgun next to Joshua, who drove like a maniac, Heather kept looking over her shoulder to make sure nobody was following them. Jay and Kenji were doing their best to keep that building offline, she knew, but she had no clue what countermeasures that National Security agent might take. Daniel had warned her of such a reckless move. "We are scientists, Heather," he had told her. "We are not CIA agents to do what you want us to do."
So far her plan was working. Her two IT experts had succeeded in using their magic to convince Agent Jonathan that he was talking to the Secretary of Defense himself. And now she was headed to the naval platform with Burke in the backseat flanked by Kenneth and Daniel. If the coming two hours passed without trouble, they would all be on board the HG-3 departing for Bermuda Triangle.
"Can you drive fast without dragging too much attention?" Heather nervously asked Joshua who seemed to be enjoying the squealing of the car tires. Some men were just big boys.
"Easy, Josh. Nobody is following us," said Kenneth, a hint of excitement in his tone.
"May I understand what's going on here, Heather?" Burke spoke for the first time since they took him out of that building.
Heather turned to face him. "You said you could take us to that island."
"Of course, I can take you to the island," Burke said hesitantly as he glanced at her colleagues. "But I offered to take you, not all of you."
"Would that make any difference?"
Burke tilted his head. "No. As long as you will be the one providing the boat. Because they took mine."
"Don't worry about the boat. I have one."
"Excellent." Burke raised his cuffed hands. "Still, I don't understand: am I arrested or what? Because those fellows don't look like agents to me."
"And you don't look like a professor to me." Kenneth elbowed Burke.
"Kenneth." Heather gave him a warning look.
"It's alright." Burke rubbed his arm. "Do you mind taking me home to change my clothes?"
"No need for that," said Heather. "You look just fine."
"What about my handcuffs?"
"I'll remove them at the right time."
"And when does the right time come?"
"When I decide so."
"Don't you trust me?"
"Of course, I trust you." She smirked. "I am just protecting you from any stupid thoughts."
"Is that so? You know me better than I thought, then."
"Can't you shut up for a moment?" Daniel scowled at Burke.
"What's your problem?" Burke peered at Daniel.
"Your presence is a problem, let alone your voice," Daniel countered.
"I was talking to her not to you, and I didn't hear her complain."
Heather ignored Burke and Daniel's boyish rant and called Jay on her cell phone. "We're out. How much time do we have?" she asked Jay.
"Half an hour maximum," replied Jay from the other side.
"No way." Heather was getting nervous. "We won't reach the platform before one hundred minutes. Try to give us more time."
"I will do my best."
The moment she ended her call, Burke asked, "More time for what?"
"Would you do me a favor, Burke? Keep your mouth shut until we arrive."
"Arrive where?"
Heather let out a breath of air, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.
"Are we in trouble?" Burke was determined to bother her, it seemed. "Because I feel we are."
"We will be in trouble if you don't remain silent until we set off for the Triangle," she blustered.
"You were not allowed to take me from that agent, were you?" His tone betrayed his amusement.
"You really need to shut up," Daniel snapped. "We will tell you when you are allowed to talk."
"I will keep my mouth shut as you want," Burke promised. "Just tell me if you're breaking the law to take me with you."
"That's none of your business."
"You're right. But it means a lot for me to know anyway."
Heather exhaled again. He wouldn't stay silent unless she gave him an answer. "Yes, all of us are breaking the law to take you with us. You'd better be right about your island, or we are all screwed for good."
A wide smile spread across Burke's face. "Quite a woman you are, Heather."
She wasn't sure if that was a faint attempt of flirtation.
Her secured phone peeped. Only two men had that number, her boss one of them. But this time the caller was the other one. Her new bald, nameless friend.
"I'm impressed, I must say," Mr. Colgate admitted.
Through the window, Heather scanned the clear, blue sky with her eyes. "You can't be watching me right now."
"That's what I do for a living."
"Is my chopper waiting?"
"You'd better hurry before they discover your little trick. I won't be able to help you beyond that level."
I know you will, Heather thought as he closed the line. She had no doubt he would show up whenever she needed his help, exactly like he did in Burke's issue. While Jay and Kenji were tracking the NSA guys' movements to find where they had taken Burke, her secured phone received that call from her bald friend. Somehow, he found out what she was up to. It seemed that her IT experts were tracked as well.
To her surprise, Burke kept his promise and remained silent until they reached the building atop of which the chopper was waiting for Heather and her team. "Your new friend is really powerful, Heather," Daniel remarked the moment he saw the helicopter, Joshua and Kenneth dragging Burke behind them.
"I never thought you might doubt me." In fact, Heather was never sure of the intentions of her powerful friend until she saw the chopper for herself.
The one-hour flight saved them around fifteen hours of driving; enough time for National Security agents to realize they were fooled and track the one who fooled them. While Heather was busying herself with phone calls with the rest of her team to make sure they had already made it to the naval platform in Miami, her colleagues barely talked on board the chopper. It was hard for her to tell if they were nervous because of their one-way mission, or worried about the consequences of their reckless act to free a National Security prisoner.
The helicopter landed outside the naval platform, and at last, Heather and her bounty were getting so close to their escape ark. Wasn't it a bit ironic that her ride to the Devil's Triangle could be her only salvation?
Heather strode ahead of Joshua and Kenneth who held Burke by his arms as they walked him to the platform. "Easy, tough fellows," she heard Burke protest. "I'm going to fall on my face this way."
"Then move your legs and stop acting like a bitch," Kenneth rebuked him. Irked by the language, Heather couldn't help glancing over her shoulder. "Sorry, Heather."
She might discuss that issue with him later. Or not even at all. Her eyes scanned the place until she found Santino, Linda, and Walter ahead, Susan waving to her. "Move on," she urged the men behind her.
Her cell phone peeped, and this time it wasn't Mr. Colgate. "Yes, Mr. Secretary." She picked up her boss's call.
"Where are you, Heather?" he asked firmly.
"Miami, sir. I'm ten minutes far from the HG-3."
She heard a deep sigh from the other side. "Heather, I have just received a call from the office of the Secretary of Defense."
Her heart raced when he stated the news. Silently, she waited in anticipation for more to hear.
"Are you still there, Heather?"
"I am, sir." She exhaled. "I'm just catching my breath after this long walk."
"Heather, they have some urgent questions that need clear answers from your side."
"What questions?" Shouldn't she ask who they were?
"Dr. Heather," a stern voice called out to her. Between Linda and her stood six men in black suits. The one addressing her was putting on sunglasses, but from the firm line his lips formed, she didn't expect any good news coming from him.
The man who seemed in charge took off his sunglasses, revealing his narrow gray eyes. "I'm Agent Clark, Dr. Heather. And I'm completely aware of the urgent, classified mission you are about to start." He paused for effect, leaning forward. "But who said anything about interrupting it?"
Heather squinted at his face. "What does this mean?"
"Your team can start whatever they are about to start." With his thumb, he referred to her fellows standing behind him. "But I'm afraid I can't let you go before we have a brief conversation."
Carefully weighing her next words, Heather evaded her teammates' eyes, especially Daniel's. "Agent Clark, you're making a grave mistake." No turning back now. She had to finish what she had started.
"Not as a grave as yours, Dr," Agent Clark coldly said. "You should have thought twice before jeopardizing your urgent, classified mission."
* * *
The office was air-conditioned, yet Heather felt those beads of sweat on her forehead. In a desperate attempt to look confident, she leaned back in her seat, her legs crossed, her arm resting on the desk behind which Clark was sitting. "I hope you tell me soon how I can help you, Agent."
"Jeff Burke." He looked her in the eye. "What is he doing in your team?"
"What do you mean by this question?" Heather stalled, hoping she could come up with something to save her.
Clark folded his arms, his eyes still scanning her. "I thought you were in a hurry, Dr."
"I am indeed. But I wonder why you are concerned about my team members' roles."
"Jeff Burke has been under the custody of the National Security Agency for eight years. Nobody told me he has become a member of your team."
"The decision to take him in my team was made recently. It's not my problem you were not informed." Heather shrugged.
"You can't simply take someone at our custody because you simply decided to do so." Clark peered at her.
"I didn't take him by force. Your agent could have just denied my simple request."
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