The bodyguard stepped away from the building when he saw the big man move off to confer with the FBI teams that were heavily deployed around not only the building but also the dock area. His eyes easily picked up this man’s companions. They were conferring underneath an umbrella as they talked. The black man turned his way and then back. That was when he quickly brought out his cell phone and punched a number he thought he would never use. It was answered on the first ring.
“I think Madam’s judgment is in question. Building one-seventeen is—”
“Yes, I have that information already. If I had relied solely on you I am afraid I would have been caught unawares.”
“You said this would come about.”
“I assume the FBI has fabricated some sort of cover story for the raid on Madam’s property?”
“Yes, I heard drug manufacturing,” Julien said worriedly.
“That would never hold up to scrutiny,” the man said on the other side of the cell. “I understand they are preparing Madam for transport.”
“Oh, God, where to? They wouldn’t dare arrest her?”
“That, I would welcome. No, from our intelligence inside the house, our federal friends are taking her to Brooklyn.”
“Have the rest been notified about Madam?” Julien asked, lowering his voice when he saw the black man look his way once more. He held the cell closer to his body to protect it from the increasingly violent rain.
“No, and they must not be. They are only students who don’t understand the dangers of what could happen if the world learns the truth. No, they are not to be notified.”
“But Madam? What is she and these men up to?”
“Tell me of these men who confronted you and Madam at the Grenada.”
“I don’t have a clear picture of who they are. Two, maybe three look military. The shorter, bear of a man was babbling on in scientific terms, so I can’t really rule out any agency at this point.”
“That is not what I was hoping to hear. If this is military we could lose the security of the doorway and many, many secrets would be spilled, which is unacceptable as more people other than myself have plenty to lose if this technology is compromised.”
“Maybe Madam has reasons for sharing the information. Maybe they don’t know what the doorway is.”
The silence on the other end of the line sent a chill down Julien’s spine. He knew this man and a few others like him did have plenty to lose if a spotlight were shined on them. Maybe even more to lose if Madam had knowledge of what they had been doing. The pay he received to inform on the household goings-on was not enough for this.
“Listen, stay close to Madam,” the voice said.
“What are—”
“Shut up and listen. Stay close, I will have to deal with this myself with outside resources.”
“I will not allow Madam to be harmed, we would defend her to the—”
A large hand reached out and gently removed the cell phone from Julien’s hand. The black man was there and he immediately hit redial. He saw the number and noted it. He shut off the glass-faced phone and looked at the very much larger Julien.
“All information coming and going is to go through either the FBI or one of these fine gentlemen,” he said, indicating Jenks, Henri, and Jack. “Clear?” Will Mendenhall said as he walked away toward the building and then tossed the confiscated cell phone to the man they referred to as the colonel.
Julien swallowed as he now feared what he might have unleashed in making that call. There were no limits as to how far certain men would go to protect their secrets, and Julien now feared he had unleashed a tornado and placed his beloved madam right in its path.
EVENT GROUP COMPLEX, NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA
Alice Hamilton stood next to her desk and watched the door to Niles’s office and the conference room. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she tapped her heeled shoe on the carpet. She felt the eyes of the three assistants on her back as the two men and one woman looked on nervously, as they had never seen Alice Hamilton so worked up about anything.
The pneumatic elevator chimed softly and the doors parted. Alice raised a brow when she saw it was one of the kitchen stewards. He had a tray with a covered dish and coffee cup and carafe. As the steward walked in Alice went to him and quickly relieved him of the tray. She nodded for him to open the director’s door and he did so after a warning look from the female assistant. Alice walked into the office and then instead of waiting for the steward to close the door she reached back with her shoe and closed it for him. With a frown and a worried look the steward left the outer office.
“Just sit the tray over there, Josh, thank you,” Niles said as he studied an Antarctic field summary. He had a frown on his face at the incompleteness of the report issued through Charlie Ellenshaw’s crypto department.
Alice turned and placed the tray on the credenza and then removed the cover from the plate containing the egg salad sandwich. She took it and placed it in front of Niles, who looked up when the dish landed a little hard.
“I know we’re shorthanded, even in food services, but having the director’s assistant delivering meals?” he asked as his smile stayed put, even though he had to swallow as he faced Alice.
“I’ve been delivering meals to directors around here for over sixty years, I imagine one more won’t kill me,” she said as she sat down in a chair facing his desk. “By the way, I believe your doctor’s prescribed diet doesn’t allow that sandwich. I believe there was a bowl of soup and a salad mysteriously canceled at the last minute.”
“Nothing has ever gotten by you, has it?” Niles asked as he closed with tired resignation the file Charlie had sent him.
“No, I pretty much hear and know most everything.”
Niles felt the twinge of his headache returning and he took a breath and waited for what he knew was once more coming his way.
“You just missed Mr. Ryan,” Niles said as he ignored the headache as best as he could and reached for his sandwich. He started to take a bite and thought better and placed it back on the plate and looked at Alice. “With the report that Charlie just delivered, if and when we send a team in they are more than likely going to be confronted with wildlife that has been extinct for a minimum of ten thousand years.”
Alice waited patiently as Niles had to think every comment out carefully before committing to an answer about anything. It would take the average man more than just a few minutes to coordinate this in his head, but for Niles it was milliseconds. She reached over and set the saucer that was covering Compton’s coffee off to the side and she slid the China cup closer to the director. All the while her eyes never left his.
“In other words, Alice, we just don’t know what will be waiting for them when, and if, they get there.”
“These two Group members deserve to go, not only for their personal connection to the mission, but because they are qualified to go. You see, Niles, I’ve been conducting my own research and it clearly indicates the need for Sarah’s expertise in geology. The world they will be traveling to is most likely on the verge of destroying itself due to what we know is an historical eruption of Mount Erebus. Sarah will be able to give a precise time frame of that event if she is there to witness the conditions. She is needed.”
Niles stirred sugar into his black coffee and patiently listened to his conscience as she spoke. “And Anya? I don’t know of any situation in Antarctica’s past that would justify sending in an intelligence agent with the mission team. Do you?” he asked as he eyed Alice over the cup of coffee he sipped from.
“Nothing, other than the fact that she’s good with a gun.” Alice finally committed fully to her guilt-driven attack. “And for the deal you had me make with General Shamni and his Mossad offices.”
Niles placed the cup of coffee down and shook his head, angry that this was going to be Alice’s arguing point. She was feeling guilty for the secret pact between him and the head of the Mossad.
“What I offered was a deal to assist us in getting a very valuable member of this Group home again. I would have signed away my own mother to get that done. After all of these years in this facility and the deals that you and Garrison brokered to protect your people, you now have the gall to question what it is I’m willing to do?”
Alice lowered her head. She knew that the remark was too much and was hard on Niles. After all, it was true, she had done far worse to protect their people in the past. Maybe she was finally too damn old for the intrigue of today’s “game.”
“So we send her off on a mission that has a very low rate of probable success, just so she can possibly die with Carl. That’s her reward? No, the mission roster is set.” He sipped his coffee but kept his good eye on Alice. “I would warn you about sentiment, but then again that would make me out to be a liar, something I’ve never done. Sentiment is exactly why we are attempting to do the impossible. But that same factor can get my people killed and thus I can’t allow it to interfere with Jack’s mission plans. Sorry.”
Alice nodded her head and stood.
“And tell Dr. Morales, nice try. But I’ve been doing this for years now, and I have learned a few things over those years and I learned from the best, Pete Golding.”
“You knew we would ask before he even decided to help us, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, Alice, because it’s exactly what both Pete and I would have done.”
Alice started to turn and leave, defeated for the first time since her arguments with Garrison Lee. Just as she closed on the double doors Niles stopped her. He was busy writing something and when finished held it out to Alice. She read it.
“I take it you heard from Jack?” she asked as her mind went into preparation mode immediately upon reading the action order.
“Yes, our one-hundred-hour window has been opened and we have to go through it very soon or we’ll get it slammed down on us.”
“I’ll call it.”
All thoughts of mission team members went out the window as Alice was now in full Event mode as she hurried from the office. Niles turned and watched the doors close and then he grimaced as if his coffee was bad. He shook his head and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He had traded Anya Korvesky for the mere chance of getting the file on this Traveler, and now he refused to even allow her a chance at seeing the man she loved one last time. He felt the guilt as it coursed like the bitter coffee down his throat.
He heard the tones that sounded loudly throughout the massive complex. His people were going to do what they did best—fight the impossible odds.
* * *
Alert tones sounded throughout the Event Group facility and sixteen departments, totaling 512 civilian men and women, with their military contingent of 212, went into action.
The Group had just declared an Event.
BROOKLYN NAVY YARD
Jack stood over a map spread out on a desk in the upstairs office area that once fronted as a furniture repair warehouse after the Department of the Navy had started selling off the property in 1966.
“Okay, when our people get here, we secure the inside of the building and the FBI the exterior and surrounding grounds.” He looked at Mendenhall, who was taking notes on the electronic pad he had been issued for this particular op. “No one who isn’t Group gets inside for the duration of our time on station.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll coordinate with Mr. Ryan when he arrives with Assistant Director Pollock and her nuclear sciences team.”
“Good.” He looked at the master chief, who turned somewhat pale when he heard that Virginia would soon be on station. “You okay, Master Chief?”
Instead of telling the truth, he grumbled and then stabbed his cigar end at the map.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Colonel, but do you see these power lines here and here?” The cigar stabbed at the two locations nearer the street.
“Yes,” Jack confirmed.
“If we are able to somehow get this ass-backward contraption runnin’, those lines won’t carry any sort of load close to what we would need.” He looked up and placed the cigar back into his mouth. “Not if the wattage we need is to carry the transformers I saw down in that pit. The old woman said she used bribes in the old days to get her power, but she didn’t explain it well enough. I’m sure the Borough of Brooklyn won’t be happy when we blow every electrical transformer from here to Bay Ridge.”
Collins looked at the map again and the eight-hundred-foot space where the old dry dock used to be. It was sitting dry as the riverside gate was closed.
“Yes, I did notice and have informed Virginia about the power problems we could be facing. She said that she has a plan for that and she wanted me to inform you that she needs your naval expertise to work out a few minor problems. She said to gather everything”—Jack looked at his pad and the notes he had written—“on the power output for either the Maitland, or SSN-688. I assume you know what that first name refers to?”
Jenks removed the cigar once more and shook his head as if in wonder.
“Smart lady there. I didn’t think of that,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I know what she’s referring to. Ballsy, I must say.”
“Yeah, we’ve noticed that about Virginia,” Jack said, wondering to what level Jenks’s real fear of Virginia extended. “It must be all of those letters that follow her name and title, huh?” Jack smirked at the master chief. “Well, she said she’s also studied the aerial photos from Boris and Natasha and suggests you may want to get a start on—”
“Hah! Filling the dry dock area,” he said triumphantly. He looked from Mendenhall to Farbeaux. “See, I can think just as fast as her.”
“Oh, yeah,” Will said as he turned away and laughed.
“Okay, you get on that, Master Chief.”
“And myself? Am I to run out for coffee and doughnuts?” Henri asked.
“No, we’re going out in the rain and assisting Madam Mendelsohn inside for our meeting with Xavier, Niles, and Europa. It’s time to see if we have a chance at using this”—he looked at Jenks—“half-assed-contraption.”
“That’s ass-backward contraption,” Jenks mumbled as he corrected Jack with a disgusting smirk.
“And I’m included here because…?” Henri asked as he straightened from the map of the navy yard.
Jack smiled as he put his coat on. “I like to have a man know just what it is he’s volunteering for.”
Colonel Henri Farbeaux lowered his eyes and wondered when and if his time in hell would ever be served. He watched Jack as he held the door open for him, intentionally not answering Henri’s question but avoiding it with another mystery.
“Did you ever catch on that I really don’t care for you, Colonel?” Henri walked past Collins and then out of the office.
“Really. But I thought we were actually getting to be friends.”
* * *
Moira Mendelsohn sat in her chair and looked out from the glass-enclosed gallery at the doorway laboratory. She adjusted the quilt on her legs and then looked away.
“I didn’t think I would ever lay eyes on that damnable thing again.”
The doorway was sitting silent without any power in the semidarkness of the spotlights. Moira looked around the gallery.
“I remember looking up through a glass wall very much like this one. That is why I have always told my scholarship students not to lie to their children.”
“Concerning?” Jack asked as he and Henri sat in the gallery seating section, flanking either side of the woman they knew as the Traveler.
She smiled and looked at the colonel.
“Why, that there really are monsters in the world.” Her smile became a conspirator’s smirk. “I know, I’ve seen them myself through glass walls just like these.” She gestured to the seats and the gallery glass separating the viewers from the time machine that sat beneath them.
Jack remembered her file. He looked at Henri and knew he was thinking the same as him. Moira had really seen monsters in the flesh and most had red and black swastikas on the sleeves and death’s-heads on their caps. The tale she related in remembering her concentration camp debrief told the bizarre story of Heinrich Himmler and his plan. Yes, she had seen monsters. Jack studied the tired face of the woman who sat before him.
“I trust you want to use the doorway for something of your own design?” She looked from Jack to the doorway below and the shiny instruments that gleamed in the sparse lighting.
“Is it still possible?”
Moira Mendelsohn snorted and chuckled, worrying both Collins and Farbeaux, but Henri far more since this was a machine owned and possibly once operated by her, so he hoped her insanity was a recent development.
“Oh, yes, I imagine it is.” She used the chair’s toggle to turn her chair to face Jack full on. “But why would you wish to go there?”
“Go where, ma’am?”
“Germany in 1943, of course.”
“We wouldn’t wish to if at all avoidable,” Henri said chiming in.
“Then I suspect you have a Wellsian Doorway at the selected location?”
“Not following,” Jack said, feeling his heart skip a beat.
“My dear, you have to have two doorways for the system to work. Didn’t you read my dossier and specs thoroughly?” She managed to actually look sad at the way Jack’s face dropped. “The only other doorway is in the Germany of the past, 1943. There is no other.”
Collins stood and faced away from Moira. He saw the look from Henri. While not at all sad about hearing the news, he did feel for these people, for when the news broke that what they wanted to happen was now an impossibility, their hope would be dashed. The Frenchman had read the entire dossier and understood far better just how devastating this new information was.
Jack opened the door. “Master Chief, come in here, please.” He then turned to the monitor that had been installed by Mendenhall. “Dr. Morales, are you with us?” he asked as Jenks entered the gallery and saw the long faces and then sat down. He removed his ever-present cigar and then nodded a greeting at Moira.
After a few seconds the young face of Morales filled the screen. Jack knew he would have to eventually get used to the new kid running the most intricate computing and AI system ever designed. He just hoped the young man was up to the task. They would soon see if the moniker that had been bestowed upon him was accurate … that of genius.
“We are here, Colonel, and we do have some information. Professor Ellenshaw—”
“Doctor, we may have a problem that will take priority over everything else. And note, Doctor, we are not secured on this end, we have a guest. May I introduce Ms. Moira Mendelsohn.”
The old woman smiled when she saw the youth of the man on the monitor. She nodded.
“Ma’am, it’s truly an honor,” Morales said with something close to awe.
“He’s so young,” she said through the side of her mouth, and then nodded and smiled again at the young man blushing on the screen.
“Doctor, listen to what Ms. Mendelsohn has to tell you. Then I want you to use some of that brain stuff we rescued you for. Find an answer. Master Chief, help fill him in.”
“Europa is just now getting her act together, so I’ll do my best.”
Jack excused himself and gestured for Henri to follow. They stepped out through the gallery and then took the elevator up to the old office area. Will was there figuring out a duty roster for his men when they arrived from Nellis.
Jack opened the door with Will and the Frenchman in tow and they stepped out underneath the old and tattered awning that covered the front stoop.
“My God, how can we pull this one off?” he asked.
Will was filled in by Henri and could see that the colonel was feeling physically ill being defeated at such an early point in the Event call.
“What now?” Will asked.
Jack just shook his head and then stepped out from under the awning and walked down the steps. He raised his face to the sky and allowed the rain to cool his face.
Will and Henri watched a man realizing defeat and it was something they could both see didn’t sit too well with the former Green Beret.
* * *
The ruse had taken two and a half hours to formulate and execute. The van was actually stolen from the federal building parking lot in Brooklyn near the courthouse area and now sat idling at a closed and deserted gas station on Flushing Avenue. The driver of the van eased himself from behind the wheel and then joined the three men watching the main front gate of the navy yard.
“That is one drive I don’t want to make again. I must have passed a dozen cops on the way here,” the man said in Russian. “I didn’t know if any of their radio signals would set that shit off. It would have blown half of the neighborhood straight to hell, not that it would be missed.”
The smaller of the three men turned and faced the driver. “The explosives are detonated on a sealed circuit, you idiot, I have told you that. Radio signals cannot set them off.”
“If you have to explain to your men their duties more than once, I wonder how well mine and my colleagues’ money was spent. Perhaps we chose the wrong organization to handle our problem?”
The small man turned and faced his contracted employer. “Have we yet to fail you and your … colleagues in any capacity?” He snorted with a chuckle at the euphemism this dark-haired man insisted on using.
“I fear there is always a first time,” the man said as he pulled his expensive coat closer to his throat. He hated dealing with these Eastern Bloc idiots. But they were the only people brave, or foolish, enough to take on the hard jobs called for to help him and his associates from time to time. These brutes had their own business concerns, but did this kind of work on a contractual basis and the Russians and the services they provided were not known to come cheap.
“If there is failure the first time, there will be a second, a third, even a fourth attempt until you are satisfied our contract has been fulfilled.”
“As long as you are aware of the situation and the people you’re putting into harm’s way. That’s the FBI over there. You may get through the civilian guards at the gate with your falsified van, but not them.”
“Obstacles to be swiped aside like dirt.” The small man laughed. “The FBI has been trying to shut us down for many years, my friend, yet here we are.”
“Have your people compensated for the design of the building and the fact that your target is in the subbasement?”
“How did you get into the position you are in by worrying about such small details, my friend? You should know that with enough explosive you can do anything.” The man turned and watched as the civilian guards started their shift change. He faced the driver. “Once through the gate you will get out at the first blind corner; my men will take it from there. Just be sure to turn on the remote device before you leave the van.”
The driver nodded in understanding. He turned and went to the van and carefully eased out of the deserted gas station and crossed over Flushing Avenue and into the navy yard without a second look from the harried guards at the gate. With a flash of the FBI magnetic lettering on the doors and the government-issued license plate, the dark-haired man watched the most powerful explosive ever to be used in the borough of Brooklyn on its way to kill the Traveler and any evidence of their past crimes.
He placed a hand on the Russian’s shoulder. The sleeve of his expensive coat was pulled back and the contracted killer looked down at the man’s exposed arm.
“Let’s hope we don’t have to try this again.”
The Russian watched the dark-haired man of forty lower his hand and turn toward his chauffeured car, which waited in the back of the station.
The Russian was left wondering about the strange numerical tattoo on the man’s forearm as he stepped into the old station’s store area that had not seen a customer or worker in over eighteen months. His men were there and as he looked at the bespectacled Russian sitting at the small desk, the contract killer could see by the red flashing light on the boxlike detonator that the remote system was indeed operational.
* * *
The driver slowed his beating heart as he passed through the main gate with nothing more than a cursory wave from the oncoming shift of civilian security guards. He drove slowly, obeying the posted limit of five miles per hour as he watched the deserted and rain-swept road near the back of the navy yard. The pulsing of the windshield wipers lulled him as he pulled around the blind corner. He immediately saw the bright lights that had been installed around building 117. He looked around as he placed the van in park and then allowed the van to idle. He didn’t wonder how the men who had hired him rigged the van, he just wanted out of it. He reached for the door handle and then he remembered to set the remote system on the dashboard. He took a breath and then flipped the small toggle switch. A small red light illuminated, indicating the arming of the system. Little did he know that it had also armed far more than the remote control. He pulled on the door handle—nothing.
“What?” he said as he felt the first stirring of fear down in the pit of his stomach.
He pulled on the handle again and the door still didn’t open. He put his shoulder to it and still the door remained locked and closed. Suddenly he heard the gearshift move from park to drive and his eyes widened. He hurriedly reached out and hit the toggle switch again. The light remained brightly lit. He repeated the same action with the same result. He yelled an obscenity and then slapped at the small radar-looking device, sending it crashing to the floor. Still the van moved forward toward the first taped-off line where two agents of the FBI waited in the rain. He hurriedly tried to shut the key off. It turned but the engine didn’t stop. He tried desperately to slam the gear lever into park but the van was moving so fast now that the transmission just clicked loudly as he sped onward.
The accelerator pedal magically went to the floor and the unsuspecting patsy was thrown back in the driver’s seat as he realized the ruthless Russian mob had murdered him for their own ends.
The FBI van hurtled toward building 117 with over a thousand pounds of the hybrid mix that crystallizes conventional plastique to HMX, the most powerful military explosive in the world.
* * *
In a combat situation, Colonel Jack Collins was an unparalleled warrior as far as instinctual awareness was concerned—unparalleled with the exception of a man who not only was trained the same as Collins, but one who also had the instincts of a developed criminal mind—Colonel Henri Farbeaux.
Before the two FBI field agents jumped free of the path of the rampaging navy blue van, which the newly installed Krieg lighting illuminated clearly, Henri had his nine millimeter free of its shoulder holster and had fired six times before Jack had even reached for his weapon. Soon he added his and Mendenhall’s firepower at the onrushing target.
The van careened wildly as if the driver had no control. The two agents had barely avoided being crushed as the van sped past their checkpoint and the wooden barriers that the FBI had installed. The wood shattered and the two men rolled free. Bullets slammed into the windshield as the van cleared the security checkpoint a hundred yards from the building. Henri had already expended a clip and had placed a new one into the Glock and continued his rapid fire at the oncoming threat.
Collins lowered his weapon to reload but before he did he could see the dark shape of the driver as he fought the wheel of the van. The man was wide-eyed and terrified as the van hurtled beyond the running FBI agents as they piled from their field vans and into the rain.
“Wheels!” Jack yelled and immediately Henri and Will adjusted their fire. They were satisfied to see the bullets striking the old and broken asphalt that lined the waterway. Rubber was starting to shred from the front right tire and sent the van careening to the right. It bounced off an old pier piling and then rebounded back into the roadway. The van rode on two wheels as the force of the turn threw the screaming driver to the floor of the van.
Finally the right front wheel sheared off the front axle and the van screamed past the three men after hitting the crumbling facade of building 117. Jack jumped free as Will and Henri kept firing into the glass and engine compartment of the FBI van just as it zoomed by. The engine compartment exploded in a gouge of flame as the van careened back away from the building. The van then hit a pier piling and jumped into the rainy night air. The van struck the water and immediately started to founder. The spew of water into the broken windows sent geysers into the air.
As FBI field agents started running forward as Jack was just standing after throwing himself onto the ground, when he was once again knocked off his feet and flipped over until he slammed into the redbrick of building 117. The detonation was so powerful that Farbeaux and Mendenhall were tossed from the stoop of the old building until they too were slammed into the old facade. The wall of water inundated the building, pier, and dry dock area of building 117. The wave hit Jack and he was washed away like he had been caught in a flash flood. The two FBI operation vans were caught in the artificial tsunami and slammed into the vacant building 115 where they were crushed underneath tons of water from the river. The running field agents were caught just as the wall of water slammed into the protective river-wall that lined the roadway. Parts of the old building started crumbling into the white water as the river started to calm.
The geyser that erupted from the water traveled seven hundred feet in height before the wall of water had started to expand, freeing itself from the cold waters of the East River. Collins was washed backward toward the still roiling river and when he thought he was being whisked into the water, hands grabbed him and pulled him to safety. Jack spat foul-tasting water from his mouth and then looked up and saw Will Mendenhall with a serious gash on his head, and the arm he had broken in Antarctica was hanging limp at his side. Henri was spitting blood as he made sure Jack was breathing and then he ran to help some of the field agents as they struggled to stand. The rain masked the sounds of men moaning in pain from the underwater concussion that had rent the air around the oldest section of the navy yard.
Will pulled Jack to his feet and he shook out some of the cobwebs.
“That was one hell of a punch,” Will said as he pulled Jack to higher ground as the waters receded back into the East River. His bad arm was now working again as the injury was only temporary in numbing his extremity. He rotated to make sure he didn’t break it.
“What in the hell was packed into that damn thing?” Collins asked as he felt for the nine millimeter that was no longer there. He angrily pulled his sport coat free and tossed it onto the top step of the stoop. Then he heard the sirens. He took Will’s arm and pushed him toward the door. “See if Jenks and the Traveler are okay. Then lock up and allow no one inside. We’ll get the fire and police departments looking in the wrong place for now, but they’re not stupid, they may believe that building was the intended target.”
“Right.” Will quickly entered the broken building.
Henri and the FBI agent-in-charge, Williamson, the Event Group operative, quickly formulated a plan just as the navy yard fire brigade showed up and were quickly followed by both the FDNY and NYPD. The place was starting to look like ground zero and that was attention Jack and his team had to avoid at all costs. They just didn’t have the time for lengthy national security debates. Jack allowed the FBI to taint the trail and explain that a van filled with methamphetamine liquid exploded after trying to get by the FBI investigative team. The hard part would be getting Williamson’s own field team to go along. Thus far the Event Group plan was in shambles. No second signal for the original doorway to lock on to, and now there was someone who wanted the Wellsian Doorway kept on a more private basis and was willing to kill fifty federal agents to do it.
Jack ran to the river and looked at the settling water and saw the bodyguard Julien as he stood wide-eyed in the rain where he thought he was unobserved. The other two were busily speaking beside him. They were animated as the larger man stared out at the spot the van had exploded. Then he saw Jack looking at him and before the colonel could move, Julien and his two companions turned away and vanished into the night. Jack turned and then headed for the heavily damaged building 117.
* * *
Jack found Will tending to a gash on Jenks’s head as he avoided the smashed and shattered glass from the viewing gallery. Mendenhall nodded toward the Traveler, who was looking through the broken window frame at the water that had cascaded into the PIT from the river. The explosion had ripped a hole in the seawall that protected the navy yard from the raising and the lowering of tides. The base of the building had survived two hundred years of rot and decay only to be smashed by what amounted to an underwater depth charge that smashed the ancient wood and concrete pilings. Collins could see that Moira Mendelsohn was in shock as the water bubbled and rolled over the equipment it had taken her a lifetime to design and build.
Sparks momentarily flew from a bank of old computer panels and several of the old spools of magnetic tape blew free from their cabinets and splashed into the rising waters.
“I am sorry.”
Jack heard the words and he felt the woman maybe wasn’t sorry for the loss of the doorway, but for the lost chance at helping them get their man back from the past. Even though she had informed them that the doorway needed that second signal to lock on to, she had not given up on the vast possibilities. She took a deep breath and it came out as a sigh.
“Ma’am, are you hurt?” the colonel asked as he leaned over for a look. He reached down and retrieved her blanket and spread it over her exposed legs. Jack’s eyes locked on the numerical tattoo that had been brutally applied in greenish-blue ink. She saw him looking and she slowly pulled the shawl closer to her body. She nodded, indicating that she was all right. Her eyes went back to the rising waters covering her life’s work. “You need to tell me who your enemies are.” Jack saw the stunned look on Jenks’s face as he removed the cigar from his mouth and stopped Will from tending his cut as he strained to hear what the woman had to say.
“I have no more enemies, Colonel Collins. A woman my age actually becomes more secure the older she gets simply through the assault of time. Old age makes for an exceptional ally in avoiding enemies from the past.”
“How about out of time?”
She smiled. “I am not following you, Colonel.”
“Who doesn’t want this machine falling into hands other than yours?”
Moira turned her chair and then faced Jack. She watched his eyes for a moment and then shook her head. “Perhaps you should check your end of that equation, Colonel, not mine.”
“Your bodyguards mysteriously vanished after the attack—why?”
“Julien and the others have left me?” she asked, a momentary look of panic filling her expression.
Jack remained silent as she thought and he realized that the information had truly stunned her. She looked away and Collins saw the tough old woman’s lips tremble. He placed a hand on her shoulder and then moved off to Will and Jenks.
“Look, can you duplicate that design if you had all of the specs?” he asked Jenks in a low tone as he watched Madam Mendelsohn move back to the broken viewing glass and stare down at her submerged doorway.
Jenks also watched the Traveler and then placed the cigar back into his mouth as he allowed Will to apply a gauze pad and tape to his cut.
“Yeah, if I had ten years and about three billion dollars, you bet,” he growled, and then tossed the cigar stub away. He stood and went to the viewing window and looked out. “No, our only shot was right there,” he said, pointing to the rising waters. “So I suggest you get some pumps in here and some engineers and get that leak sealed up tight. Me and Ginny will figure something out after we dry everything off.”
“Ginny and you will figure what out, Harold?” The voice made Jenks turn. He smiled and then quickly caught himself and spat onto the wet carpet. “Classy as always,” she said as she saw Jack and Will and nodded. Then her eyes fell on the Traveler and she quickly made her way to the electric wheelchair.
“That we maybe can salvage…”
Jenks’s words trailed off as Virginia Pollock kneeled down on the wet floor and faced Moira.
“Dr. Mendelsohn?”
Moira looked up and her smile grew as this was the first time in her life that someone from the outside world had addressed her as “Doctor.”
“Yes,” she answered as Virginia took her old and silken hand into her own.
“I have read your thesis on the alternating poles of influence in regards to ion particle research—an amazing piece that I use quite often in my courses on light-emitting and amplification lenses.”
“I didn’t think anyone had access to my old work.”
Virginia looked up at Jack with a questioning look. “She hasn’t met Xavier and Europa as yet?”
Collins shook his head. “Just Dr. Morales, not Europa.”
“Well, suffice it to say I can’t wait to get into your head about certain things regarding your research and the practical application of your work. I need to know so much. The mission into the past, I would love to see the records on those.”
The smile vanished from Moira as she eased her hands free of Virginia’s. The move was caught by all. Jack suspected Moira was hiding something huge but for now his only concern was the repair of the doorway and its application in assisting them getting Everett back home. And in the middle of all of that they now had a mystery concerning who would be willing to kill federal agents to stop the doorway from being compromised.
“All of my notes have been lost over the years. I’m afraid the only record of mission parameters is in here,” she said, pointing an old finger to her temple.
“Master Chief, get the assistant director up-to-date. Moira, you and I need to speak after we get this thing moving. Right now I have to see how much of our cover story has bitten the dust.”
“Do you mean the problems outside?” Virginia asked as she straightened up and looked around at the devastation caused by the suicide attack.
“Yes,” Jack answered.
“Well, it looks like the FBI is under attack by the civil authorities representing the Borough of Brooklyn. Agent Williamson said to tell you they are being pulled off the detail and turning the investigation over to the NYPD vice squad, ATF, and the DEA.”
“Damn, I have to speak with Niles. We’re going to need some special interference ran for us.”
“You mean we’re going to add another criminal charge to our growing list?” Virginia asked.
“Something like that, yeah. Now, we need your teams to get in here and start cleaning this mess up so we can see just how screwed we really are. Then the priority is to get the linkup with Morales and Europa up and running on a dependable basis. We need her computing prowess here ASAP. Will, get Ryan to grab us six field security teams out here from Nevada, I want our own people managing security from here on out.” Collins looked at his watch. “We have ninety hours left before the president will have to explain to a lot of angry agencies and cities why he is acting so slowly on this. And it’s now a lot larger problem than it was just an hour ago.”
Jack turned and left the gallery and caught the lift to the top floor. All the while he felt a helplessness he hadn’t felt since he saw Everett push him away and then vanish into a wormhole.
The Event Group was losing its race with time and technology.