the blueprint indicated that the ground-level quarters had been removed at the time of decommissioning.
Now the only aboveground signs of the facility were four air vents, and a structure that hid the main entrance. There was an additional way in, an emergency entrance. But it was hidden in a rock crevice wide enough for only one person to pass through at a time.
This didn’t shed any light on what the current inhabitants might be up to, but it did give Quinn their location.
“This looks like it’s going to be fun,” Nate said, his earlier defensive tone gone.
“Loads,” Quinn agreed.
He rolled his shoulders back, trying to loosen the muscles in his back that hadn’t expected to spend the night sitting in a chair outside. He took a closer look at the second page. It was the lower level of the complex, designated R2.
“I think this is some kind of laboratory,” he said.
“Maybe seventy years ago,” Nate said. “Who knows what they’re using it for now?”
“True. They could be just using the main level.”
“The main level of what?” The voice had come from behind them.
Quinn and Nate turned.
Orlando was standing at the edge of the kitchen. She was dressed and, except for the large white bandage covering her wound, looked almost normal.
Quinn pulled out one of the kitchen chairs, then took a few steps toward her.
“You shouldn’t be walking around,” he said.
“It’s not my leg that got hurt,” she said, then looked at Nate. “No offense.”
“Hey, I get it,” he said. “No worries.”
She walked over to the table and looked down at the blueprints. “What are those?”
“Blueprints,” Quinn said.
“No kidding,” she said, all but calling him an idiot. “Of what?”
“Yellowhammer,” Nate said.
“So this is where they are,” she said.
“So it would seem,” Quinn said.
They were all silent for several moments.
“What are we waiting for?” Orlando asked.
“Nate and I were just leaving,” Quinn said.
“We were?” Nate asked.
Quinn ignored him and looked at Orlando. “You, though, are staying here.”
“The hell I am.”
“You need rest, not a four-hour ride in the car.”
“I’m going,” she said.
“We can do this without you.”
“If I were anyone else, you’d expect me to continue on the project.”
Her eyes narrowed, daring him to contradict her. But Quinn couldn’t.
“Put me in the back seat,” she said, her tone softening a notch. “Nate, grab me a pillow.”
Nate pushed himself out of the chair. “Thick or thin?”
“Thin, please.”
“Hold on,” Quinn said.
“What?” Orlando asked. “It’s all settled.”
“Nothing’s settled,” Quinn told her.
“It’s settled.”
Quinn started to open his mouth, but stopped. Why the hell was everyone arguing with him this morning? He felt like going back to bed and forgetting the whole thing. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option.
And as far as Orlando going along, like she said, it was settled.
CHAPTER 25
Before leaving the city, they filled the trunk of Quinn’s BMW with gear they thought they might need. Ropes, clamps, gloves, and carabiners they picked up at a mountaineering store on Pico Boulevard. Crowbars, listening gear, explosive charges, and other specialized items they got out of Quinn’s storage facility near Venice Beach.
Once they were finished, they headed north, taking first the 405 freeway, then Highway 14 into the upper Mojave Desert.
About two and a half hours into the trip, a desert valley opened up off to their right.
“According to the map, that should be China Lake,” Nate said, then paused for a moment. “Everything’s so … tan. Summers here must be killers.”
“I think there’s a certain beauty to it,” Orlando said.
“Sure. Okay, if you say so,” Nate said. “Anyway, when the government controlled Yellowhammer, the navy station at China Lake had administrative jurisdiction.”
They fell silent again as they transitioned onto Highway 395 and left the desert for the higher-elevation scrubland that would be with them the rest of the way. Outside, the temperature dropped a few degrees every twenty minutes. At this time of year it wasn’t a drastic difference, but Quinn knew that unlike the desert they’d just passed through, this area would be touched by snow a few times every winter. Perhaps not a lot, but enough. And with the new valley being so narrow, Quinn could imagine winds whipping between the mountain ranges, making life miserable.
It took another hour before they passed a sign indicating they were a few miles from the town of Lone Pine. That got everyone moving. Lone Pine was the gateway to the Alabama Hills and would serve as their base.
Here the Sierra Nevada felt like an impenetrable rock wall miles high, its jagged skyline daring anyone to try and cross it. One of the peaks, Quinn wasn’t sure which, was Mount Whitney, the tallest mountain in the lower forty-eight states. It was rugged country, and, on that aspect alone, the perfect place to build a facility you didn’t want anyone to know about.
To Quinn it looked just like what it was, a sleepy town of around two thousand, living off the tourists who came to see the mountains or were passing through on their way to the Mammoth Mountain Ski Resort another two hours farther north. The highway acted as Main Street, and played host to most of the businesses Lone Pine had to offer. A grocery store, a few bars, some restaurants, a couple of gas stations.
“There’s the motel,” Nate said, pointing ahead and to the right.
Quinn saw it. The Dow Villa Motel. Nate had made reservations before they left L.A.
Quinn parked near the motel’s office, then waited in the car with Orlando while Nate went inside to check in. While the sketch of Quinn from New York hadn’t been in the news for the last twenty-four hours, he still felt the need to keep a low profile.
“How you feeling?” he asked Orlando.
She hesitated, then said, “I’m fine.”
“You’re cute when you lie,” he said.
“I’m fine, really,” she said. “You want to know if it hurts? Of course it does. But I’m fine.”
They were silent for a few moments.
“I assume you want to do a recon,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“Then we can just drop off our bags and go.”
“You’re staying here,” Quinn said.
“I said I was fine.”
“I know you did. But you could use some rest. You look exhausted.”
“I don’t want to argue with you about this,” she said.
“I don’t want to argue, either. But this first trip out, we’re just going to do a scout. That I don’t need you
