take thousands upon thousands of pounds of explosive material to initiate something like that. Even that scenario would be no guarantee you would get as much as a vibration out of the known surface faults. The tectonic forces start well below most fault lines and can't be reached by anything outside of a massive drilling operation.'
'So, you believe it not feasible?'
'Not to my understanding. But I would like to hear this mysterious monitoring tape the Russians and Koreans claim they have.'
'I understand that the Korean government is making it available through the United Nations as proof that seems to indicate a rather firm belief in their claims,' Alice stated from her seat next to Virginia.
'Then we start from scratch. Sarah, you will head up the effort here and be the team leader of the geology and engineering departments. In addition, I am throwing the entire weight of the Earth Sciences Department in with you. Your job is to find a way to manipulate the earth to move. If we can construct a working model, then maybe we can prove or disprove this claim. Prove it or lay it to rest quickly. Luckily, you will be coordinating with Director Compton; he will be your sounding board.'
When the meeting broke up, with department heads moving off to give orders to their people, Virginia saw that Jack and Carl had not moved. Alice Hamilton stayed also, and was sitting calmly in her seat at the table with her pad and pencil in her lap.
'Corporal Sanchez was a great kid, Jack. I'm sorry,' Virginia said as she held Jack's blue eyes.
'They all were.'
'I know that. But I also know that Sanchez was close to you two; therefore, I am truly sorry.'
Jack did not respond. He was freshly shaven and cleaned and in his normal blue jumpsuit. He opened a red- bordered file folder in front of him, then picked out one and slid it across the table to Virginia. She looked from Jack to the picture and then closed her eyes.
'Not so secret anymore,' Virginia read aloud and then slid the picture to Alice Hamilton.
'Someone knows about us and at least the warehouse in New York, and also the part of our national charter that states we are to be kept covert,' Jack said, looking directly at Virginia, unblinking.
Carl cleared his throat. 'This is unlike anyone we've come up against, Virginia. They hit us with complete surprise and they didn't seem to care that it was right in the heart of the busiest city in the world. Massive fire- power and complete surprise--this was a pure military strike against the Event Group for recovering what we thought were just some stolen artifacts.' Carl looked from one woman to the other. 'This is more than just what we lost, but what we
Collins sat motionlessly, his face calm.
'What do you want?' Alice asked, cutting off Virginia before she could tell Jack what she had planned
'Simple: carte blanche. I want my entire Security Department pulled off every dig, university campus, and research site around the world. I want them here. We're going to need everyone. The country is almost at war and we have very few options as far as protecting this complex. If they have knowledge of one of our satellite facilities such as New York, it could be they know about the main complex. That strike this morning was not just to recover pretty paintings and suits of armor. What they were looking for is right here and they know it. Whatever they want, they want it badly enough to send a small army out to get it.'
'But, Jack, this is the Group. We're situated underneath one of the most guarded air-force bases in the entire world. They couldn't possibly get through that security and get in here.'
Again, Carl spoke up. 'Forty thousand.'
'Excuse me?' Virginia said.
'There are forty thousand policemen in New York City. That small fact didn't seem to deter this force from attacking a building in the heart of downtown Manhattan. They assassinated a prisoner at a federal courthouse, and walked into the home of a senior FBI agent and murdered and tortured him and his wife.'
'Do what you have to do to secure Group and its personnel.'
The three white Chevrolet vans pulled into the adjacent parking garage and waited. This particular law firm was large enough that it had a private lot with an express elevator that led down to the large four-story brown- stone that served the firm. The vans were nondescript and windowless. They were parked, their motors shut off. Now, they waited.
It was only a minute later when a black Mercedes SL pulled up and over the steep incline that served the lower level of the garage, which sat a full story above the firm. It backed quickly into a space that faced the three vans. The lights flashed once, then one more time. At that signal, the sliding side doors of the vans opened and ten men from each quickly stepped out. They were wearing black overalls and black nylon ski masks and each was heavily armed.
Lorraine Matheson, better known as Dahlia, watched the northeastern strike team of the Coalition expertly check their weapons on the way to the elevator. This would be a ruthless theft, acted out quickly and murderously. The men doing the job had become millionaires while in the Coalition's service. They paid for the best soldiers from around the world. These men were not timid in the taking of life, nor were they afraid to die. Danger was more of a drug to them and money was only a means to that drug.
One man exited the first van and approached her. He was dressed not in the BDU gear of her strike element but in a button-down shirt and sport jacket. He was carrying a manila envelope. She lowered her window and accepted the package. She opened it and looked through the abundance of photos. She quickly dismissed all the uniformed police. Then she saw three men who caught her attention. She went through the stack and found more eight-by-tens of the same three. She studied their faces and decided that she had what she wanted.
'These three men are not part of the NYPD. This one in particular.' She tapped the man in the center of the first photo. 'He is definitely no cop. Fax this to Tomlinson over a secure line and tell him I suspect these men were conspirators in the raid in Westchester and that they may be a part of this mysterious Group in the desert that the recently departed technicians told us about.' Dahlia thought for a moment as she replaced the photos in the envelope. 'Tell him they seem to be very resourceful and may be a problem. This one man in particular, I don't care for him at all.'
The man saw her tap her finger upon a man in the picture.
'That's the one who scared me when he faced the camera. There is something about him. The only word that comes to mind is
Dahlia studied the face closer before sliding it in with the others. She kept quiet as she passed the envelope back through the window. She did not want to say that she had been thinking of another word as she looked upon that man's countenance:
The man took the envelope and disappeared back into the first van to carry out his orders.
The blond woman forced herself to relax, then the image of the man and his two companyions quickly fading.
Three minutes after entering the law offices of Evans, Lawson and Keeler, thirty-six employees, attorneys, and visitors were lined up and on their knees in the main meeting room. Their hands were on their heads, and most were in shock at the sudden death of their elderly security man. The former Boston police officer, who'd had the nerve to confront the leader of the assault, had been shot at point-blank range. He now supplied the example of what would happen to any others who didn't follow instructions. His body was still slumped on the floor just outside the meeting room, where many could still see the body.
'We carry no money here, and if it's revenge for something our firm has done in the past, I assure you that--'
'Your name?' the smallest man of the assault element asked. His 9-millimeter silenced handgun moved toward the well-dressed man who had spoken.
'Anderson. I'm a junior partner and--'
The women screamed and the men were stunned when the bullet hit the young man in the forehead, blowing his brains all over the white-painted wall behind him and knocking his body into the screaming woman behind him.
'You savage, why would you do that?' an elderly man demanded defiantly from his kneeling position.
'Your name?' the assailant asked in accented English.
Expecting a bullet also, the man faced the masked assailant. 'Harold Lawson, senior partner of this
