Garcia, wide-bodied and thick-armed, sidestepped between table and wall and seated himself on the stool. He sat leaning forward with thick forearms resting on meaty thighs. He said, “I never expected to see you again, Jack.”
Jack said, “For a while I had some doubts on that score myself.”
Norbert said, “How do you feel, Jack?”
“I feel fine — all things considered.”
Norbert took a silvery pen flashlight and shone it into Jack’s eyes. “The pupils are dilating normally. That’s good. It means that the drug’s effects have been neutralized.”
Jack said, “What drug is that? You said you had some answers for me, Doctor.”
Garcia thrust his head forward aggressively. “I’ve got some questions I’d like answered myself. What happened out there on Silvertop? What happened to you and why are you the only one of the team to come back alive?”
Jack’s face fell. “None of the others made it?”
“Only you.”
“That’s a damned shame. I’m sorry.”
Garcia pressed, “Time won’t wait. I need answers now. The doctor can answer your questions when you’re done.” His manner was surly, skeptical, and suspicious. Jack didn’t blame him. He’d have been the same way himself had their positions been reversed.
Jack said, “You sure you want the doctor to hear all this?”
“Dr. Norbert is U.S. Army Colonel Norbert. He’s not only a medic, he’s Army Intelligence. The Army is working hand in glove with CTU on this.”
Jack said, “Okay.” Norbert stood leaning against the forward wall with arms folded against his chest. Garcia said, “Just give the highlights that I can use for immediate action. You’ll be fully debriefed later.”
Jack summarized the team’s actions on Silvertop after going into the mine. He told of finding the mass grave at the bottom of the shaft.
Garcia said, “How many did you say there were?”
Jack replied, “I’d say at least twenty, maybe more.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“I can’t, not totally. It’s an estimate. The killers didn’t bother covering them up with too much dirt. I’ve seen mass killings — too many — out in the field before, in the Balkans, Darfur, Iraq… You know the litany. I’ve got the experience to make a pretty accurate guess.”
Garcia looked disturbed, dubious. “But that would be pretty much all of the Red Notch cadre!”
Jack said, “Yes. I find that to be particularly significant, don’t you?”
“If true. Maybe they weren’t all Zealots.”
Jack shrugged. “I suppose one- half of the cadre could have killed the other and then thrown in some other folks they didn’t like, but that’s not how I’d bet it.”
Garcia demanded, “What about Prewitt? Was he one of the dead? Or Ingrid Thaler?”
“I didn’t see them. But conditions at the bottom of the shaft weren’t conducive to making any positive identifications.”
“So either one or both could still be alive.”
“It’s possible. You’ll know for sure when you dig them up and haul them into the light of day.”
Garcia shook his head like a bull tossing its horns. “That won’t be for some considerable time. That dynamite blast brought a lot of the shaft down on top of them.”
Jack said, “Which was the purpose of the exercise.”
“Eh? How so?”
“To delay identification of the bodies until the Round Table is over.” Garcia challenged, “Who’d want to do that and why?”
“Who, I don’t know. Why — because that delay is key to someone’s plans.”
“What plans?”
Jack said, “Look at the time element, that’s the critical factor. The Red Notch disappearance took place early on Thursday morning the day before the start of the conference. This morning a hit team liquidates the lone witness to the disappearance and tries to do the same to Neal and me because maybe we heard something. Today a team goes out to Silver-top and finds the blue bus and a mass grave. A strike force shows up almost immediately to eliminate the evidence and its discoverers. It was so important to the plotters that the evidence be concealed that they must have left a spotter in place to sound the alert if anybody got too close. The spotter killed Holtz, blew up the shaft, and sent for the kill squad, not necessarily in that order.
“The blue bus and mass grave were found out. Killing our team and blowing up the shaft only underlined the fact that something important is hidden in that grave. It’s only a matter of time before it’s unearthed and exposed. How much time? A day, maybe two at the most? That’s when the Round Table ends.
“I’m saying that a plot is aimed at the conference. A deadly plot that needs the facts to be concealed while Sky Mount is in session.”
Garcia knitted his two fists together and leaned forward, putting his weight on his thighs while he thought it over. “It’s possible. Prewitt’s crowd hates the Round Table members like poison.”
Jack said, “I’ll tell you something else. That strike force was no motley crew of cultists turned shooters. They were professional guns.”
Garcia had been looking down at the tops of his shoes. He raised his head, turning those big-bore, gun- sight eyes on Jack. “Which brings up another question: how’d you escape when no one else on the team did?”
Jack said, “A fair question and I’ll give you the answer. Because I was the only one who knew what was going to happen when Reb fired the gas grenade.”
“Reb?”
“The leader of the strike force. A big, humongous dude with a dyed platinum- blond crew cut.”
“How come you know his name?”
“That part of the story comes later.”
Dr. Norbert took out a pocket digital recorder and set it down on a countertop. “The rest of this concerns me and my part of the operation. I’m going to record it if you have no objection.”
His last remark was directed at Garcia. Garcia said, “Go ahead. We’re in this together.”
Nobody asked Jack if he objected to being taped. He didn’t and let it pass. He went on, “The grenade exploded, releasing a cloud of green gas. I knew it was dangerous because of what Lobo had said about a gang of hog-faced demons loosing a green cloud on the compound. As soon as I saw it, I knew the only chance was to get away from it.”
Garcia accused, “You ran and left the others to die!”
Jack took it without flinching. He was more than a little contemptuous. “Don’t be childish. You know how the game is played. Better that one should escape to tell what happened than all should die.
“The gas grenade detonated on the tunnel level where Anne and the others were. I was on the next level down where the gas hadn’t reached yet. They were done for. What good would it have done for me to make a heroic last stand and throw my life away in vain? If I escaped then at least somebody would know the truth.
“By the way, there’s an ore cart on the level below the tunnel that I used for cover as my shooting point. If you check it you’ll find fifty or more slugs smeared across it. In case you were wondering where I was while the shooting was going on.”
Garcia looked away, rubbing the lower half of his face with his hand. After a while he said, “You’re right, you’re right, of course. You did what you had to do, what I would have done if I’d been in the same position. It’s just that I’m so damned pissed about what they did to Anne and the others!”
Jack said steadily, “How did they get it?”
“Shot in the head at point-blank range. Cold-blooded murder!”
“I’m sorry. I liked Anne, liked them all. They were good teammates, good agents.”
“I’ve known them all for years. I’m the one who’ll have to tell their families.”
There was nothing to say to that. Jack went on, “The killers gave them the coup de grace. It was as easy as shooting a sitting duck. Easier, because the duck’s not drugged up. The team would have been totally out of it, helpless as babies from the green gas.”
