Diablo Mesa(54)

As everyone was filing out, he paused to touch Nora on the shoulder. “Nora, could I see you for a moment in my RV? I want to review plans for moving the excavation.”

She tamped down on the acceleration of her heart. “Fine.”

As they walked to his trailer, she said: “About Skip. I just want to thank you for understanding—”

He again placed a hand on her shoulder. “No worries about Skip. I told you my suspicions about a mole, and this abrupt disappearance seems like damning evidence to me. Skip fell under Bitan’s spell, and that’s forgivable. Besides, he’s your brother, and…”

His voice trailed off. He opened the door for her, ushered her in, closed it behind them, then—his breath husky—pressed her against it, raised her thighs with surprisingly strong arms, and wrapped them tightly around his waist.





34



AT THE SAFE house he’d been assigned—a well-furnished condominium in the quiet Quaker Heights neighborhood of Albuquerque—Agent Lime looked out the living room windows, gazing with apparent disinterest at the dark, sleepy street. After a moment he closed the curtains, then lowered an inner set of blinds specially fabricated to give off a false heat signature, as well as to block “Havana syndrome” microwaves or signals from StingRay IMSI-catching devices. He walked over to a spare wood-topped desk, sat down, and unlocked the bottom drawer via a hidden thumbprint analyzer. The drawer—lined with a nitrocellulose accelerant that would destroy the contents if any tampering was detected—popped open. Among other things, it revealed five identical phones—arranged in a careful row—and a small lead-lined box. Taking out the box, Lime opened it and removed a onetime SIM card. He slid the card into the flank of the leftmost phone, put the box back in the drawer, and closed it.

The phone was small and without any identifying features. In many ways it was “dumb,” lacking onboard GPS and other features common in recent years. This was by design. In one way, however, it was highly specialized: it used classified technology to bounce an encrypted signal off a network of spy satellites rather than relying on cell towers.

He looked at his watch, waiting for the seconds to tick off until it was exactly seven-oh-five. Then he entered some numbers; waited; tapped in his authentication; then entered another, shorter set of numbers. After a series of clicks, the familiar voice came on the line. “Servandae vitae mendacium.”

“Nemini dixeris,” said Lime, giving the countersign.

“I’ll take your report now,” Colonel Rush said.

Per his training, Lime wasted no words. “My insertion was timely. Agent Swanson has made more progress than expected on Hostile Interdiction Three. Despite the fire, she has aggressively followed up on the remaining evidence.”

“Could this lead to further progress?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Don’t you think termination would be a wise precaution?”

“With all respect, sir, it might be a little early for that. Swanson is the suspicious type and may be salting her evidentiary trail. We don’t want to skin the rabbit unless we’re sure no scat’s been left behind.”

“A colorful expression. Did you pick it up out there?”

“This morning, sir.”

“I’ll remember it. And you’re confident leaving her in place is the right way to proceed?”

“Yes. I’ve eliminated the biggest, most immediate threat. If something happens to Swanson directly on the heels of that, it will raise questions. In my opinion, sir, the ongoing dig is far most dangerous.” He paused. “May I ask how the debriefing is proceeding?”

“It reached its termination. No further information of use was extracted. He hadn’t identified the location of Alpha, although he did discover that Beta was merely the ricochet location. Their team is currently searching for Alpha.”

“If the group discovers…Well, sir, you know my concerns about the initial extraction being insufficiently thorough.”

“It’s not our place to question the actions of those who came before us.”

“I’d never do that,” said Lime.

“And you do understand the reasons why no further extraction or exploration was undertaken, or can be undertaken in the foreseeable future, at Alpha?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t negate the possibility of…”

Lime’s voice trailed off, and his superior completed the sentence. “Contact.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Duly noted.”

“I want to assure you that I will keep my foot on the throat of Swanson’s inquiries—and, if it becomes necessary, escalate with prejudice.”

“Very good. If that’s all, we’ll talk again tomorrow at the scheduled time—unless an alert arises before that.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lime replied. Two additional clicks, then the line went dead.

Lime sat for a moment, mentally reviewing the conversation and whether it called for any restructuring of his plans. Deciding it did not, he took the SIM card from the phone, then turned toward an unusual device resembling a small oil drum, topped with a cylindrical steel cap tethered to the drum by a flexible pipe of metal mesh. Swinging open the cap, he dropped the chip of silicon in, then closed it again. The faintest whump sounded within as the barrel cyclone incinerated the SIM card. Next, Lime looked at the phone, mentally counting the number of times it had been used. Five. Despite its resistance to high-tech infiltration, tradecraft nevertheless dictated it was time to switch it out for another.