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Area 51, Nevada
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“We’re leaving,” Shannon pronounced. “We can’t accomplish anything else here. Cagney won’t cooperate.”
“Good,” Tyler yawned. “Such primitive accommodations are beneath my standards. I wish to go to my mansion and consume voluminous quantities of beer in anticipation of the end of the world, which has been adequately predicted by Miss Flynn. So be it, a short life and a merry one.”
“Coleman, get the sarge to take us to Cagney. Show him your beaver if need be.”
“Rat bastard,” Coleman muttered as she headed for the door. Minutes later, they were in Cagney’s office.
“So you want to leave?” he grinned. “The plane is warming up as we speak. Hasta la vista, baby.”
“Wrong actor,” Shannon grinned. “You’re supposed to hold a cigarette lighter under your arm. However, just get us out of here so we can do your job. This is a setup, and you know it. Somebody here is dirty and you’re covering for them. Good luck to you.”
“You wish,” Cagny said. “You’ve seen more than you should have already. See you, Flynn. Don’t try to come back.”
“I’ll come back if I want to,” Shannon said. “You remember that, Cagney. Then I’ll rub your face in this. You could have stopped this. A whole city is destroyed because you didn’t do your job.”
“You’re crazy. Good bye, Flynn.”
Shannon stopped at the door. “Hey Cagney, anybody ever have engine trouble and have to land at Nellis?”
Cagney turned ghostly white and said nothing.
“See you.”