Security breached. Gerrit and his troublemakers made it inside and toyed with the system before blowing a hole in the door and eluding SWAT with the help of a helicopter gunship.
If Gerrit escaped with the plans to Project Megiddo, Richard would personally shoot everyone in the lab who let those intruders escape. Including Collette. She seemed aware of the depth of his anger and tried to keep her report short and to the point. She was on her way to England.
He knew her flight would be filled with trepidation and fear. Let her suffer!
Joe O’Rourke’s interrogation did not go well. There had been an overdose of medication and the target had slipped into unconsciousness-again. So far, he remained unresponsive. The medical adviser told him the guy might croak if they pushed too hard. Only time would tell. Richard had been amazed at how the man held up. This was not the same man his people dangled in the air in Chicago.
Again. Major frustration.
He needed to know what Joe could tell him about Gerrit and the others. About who in government aided them in their fight against Richard’s people. Unfortunately, Joe kept this information from Hank Schneider.
His phone continued to ring but he ignored it. Just more bad news.
A timid knock on the door caused him to curse once again. “I told you I wanted to be left alone. Get outta here!”
Again the knock. Was this person insane?
He sprang up and hurled open the door. A twenty-something woman with frightened eyes and pale skin stood before him, her hands shaking.
“Sir, you have a call holding. I really think you might want to take it.”
The look in her eyes made Richard withhold his fury. The call must be important enough for this young thing to ignore his orders. Her eyes drifted toward the desk and the blinking call-holding light. “He’s waiting.”
Richard stormed over to the desk and yanked the receiver up to his ear. “Kane here, who is this?”
“Richard. I think you know who this is.”
Stuart. Just the sound of the man’s voice made Richard cringe. Uh-oh. Word was getting out. “What can I help you with, sir?”
“I hear disturbing reports about acts of terror down in our lab in Albuquerque. Are these reports true?”
Richard clutched the phone. “We had an attack, but the intruders have been repulsed. There is extensive property damage. I am waiting for a situation report right now.”
“And our…project. Has it been compromised?”
“I assure you we have not been compromised. They tried to get to our computer system, but our people and Albuquerque’s SWAT unit got there first. They had to pull back.”
“And our guest. Has he cooperated with you?”
“Not yet. He needs a period of rest before we continue.”
“This performance is less than I would expect, Richard. Maybe we picked the wrong man after all.”
Stuart’s haughty tone-as if each word he spoke came down from on high-grated on Richard’s ears. He would like nothing better that to screw a. 9mm barrel into this guy’s ear and force him to eat those words. Instead, he spoke with deference. His life depended upon it.
“Give me a couple days to contain this. Once I get our guest to open up, then I can move on to those causing us these problems.”
“You have twenty-four hours. Then we bring in someone else who will get the job done.”
“Yes, sir,” Richard said, gritting his teeth.
“We are committed to the timetable for this operation. Time is ticking.”
And you’re ticking me off. “ I’ll get on it right away, sir. You can depend upon it.”
Stuart coughed before speaking. “I used to think I could depend upon you. But after everything that has happened this last month, I have my doubts. We have our doubts.”
“I’ll keep in touch. You will know something in the next twelve hours.”
The line cut off.
Richard knew his time was short.
Chapter 50
Albuquerque, New Mexico
As Beck Malloy drove up, he saw floodlights set up as dusk settled over the flat dessert terrain.
A small army of federal investigators descended on the torn-up remains of Millennium Technologies. FBI, ICE, Homeland Security, ATF, and a host of other agencies-including Albuquerque PD-milled around the staging area.
The entire compound had been cordoned off. Armed law enforcement-local and state officers, some with dogs-walked the perimeter, guarding against any spectators, rubberneckers, or media slipping inside. It was as if a small army had descended upon this quiet industrial park after someone declared war.
Beck flashed his credentials to an officer guarding access to an ever-expanding parking lot. He parked his car, striding over to where the command center had been set up in an eighteen-wheeler trailer. Occasionally, a helicopter passed overhead, floodlights flashing back and forth as the flight crew searched for intruders from their vantage point above.
His target, a heavyset agent with a protruding gut wearing a blue FBI windbreaker. “Special Agent Stephen Riker. We spoke on the phone.” Beck extended his hand.
The other man squinted at him suspiciously for a moment. “Beck? Beck Malloy?” He shook Beck’s hand.
“The one and only.”
“Long way from D.C., my man. What brings you out to my neck of the woods?”
“Terrorism, for starters. What kind of lab is this?”
Riker stiffened. “Don’t yank my chain, Malloy. I checked you out after your call. I saw your security clearance. You tell me what’s going on here.”
Beck was getting tired of always playing cat and mouse with these guys. They were just hard-working agents trying to do their job. This was the down side of working intelligence. “That’s what I’m here to find out, Riker. What have you learned so far?”
Not buying it, Riker looked at him in disbelief. “Okay. You want to play it that way. Fine! I was told to cooperate, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy getting jerked around. Not in a case I’m supposed to investigate.” The agent gave Beck the detail on the lab he’d already learned directly from Jack Thompson and Gerrit O’Rourke.
“Anybody get hurt?” Beck already knew the answer, but he wanted Riker to believe this was all new information.
Riker studied Beck closer. “After the intruders fled the scene, the chopper pulled away and SWAT found one man dead just inside the building. He must have been a third intruder, but it looked like one of his own killed him. Stabbed in the leg and double-tap to the head. Close range.”
“Body been identified?”
“Not yet. Running prints and facial photos through the system. Nothing has shown up yet, which is unusual. The dead guy looks like he may have done time, run up against cops somewhere. But the system isn’t giving us any leads.”
“Let me see the guy’s mug,” Beck said. Riker handed him a printout of a digital photo they took at the scene before the coroner arrived. Beck studied the face for a moment. “Not anyone I recognize. White supremacy, maybe?”
Riker shrugged. “Who knows. This kind of operation is more sophisticated than those Nazi wannabe types we normally run into. This was state-of-the-art equipment they used to get into this place. Big money.” Riker was still upset.
“Look, I don’t know much about this. All I can tell you is this might be connected to Senator Summers’s killing and the murders up in Seattle. We’re trying to put the pieces together.”
“You mean that Seattle cop that went missing?”
Beck played along. “Like I said, we don’t really have anything solid at this time.” He glanced toward the open
