Color of Blood(83)

“You think you know me well?” she said, squinting.

“Maybe not completely well. But enough to know not to piss you off.”

“Well, if you don’t want to piss me off, you’d let me look at your silly map so I can stop you from ending up lost or out of petrol and water.”

“No.”

“I didn’t say I was going to ride with you; I just asked to look at your map.”

“That’s all?”

“Of course. It worries me that you don’t know anything about driving in the bush. Let me just look and see what I can find.”





Chapter 28


Dennis’s hotel room was strewn with maps, papers, and writing utensils, including a large magnifying glass with the price tag still on.

“Good heavens, it looks like Simon’s bedroom.” She laughed. “Are you planning on sitting for your exams soon, too?”

Dennis picked up two pieces of lined writing paper that were taped together to form one long sheet of handwritten items.

“OK. So here’s what I did. I mapped Garder’s trips—or at least the ones in his report—to known mining sites in Western Australia. It took a long time, but I think I have his trips catalogued.”

Judy walked over and stared at the paper and smiled. “You’re nothing if not organized.”

Dennis had numbered each trip in Garder’s file, given it a start date, and listed the destination of record and the mining company visited.

“My guess is that on one of his official scouting trips he took a detour and found his big surprise,” Dennis said. “If I could just figure out which trip he used as cover, I could at least zero in on the rough geography of the black site. Given the fact that his clothing had low-level uranium contamination, I’m looking for matches near existing uranium mines. Unfortunately, I’m stuck trying to figure out which trip because Western Australia seems full of uranium mines.”

Judy sat in the chair and put her purse on the floor. “But how did Garder ever figure out where to look in the first place? I mean it stretches the imagination to think he was driving in the outback going to destination A, when he stumbled upon mystery destination B.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Dennis said. “It was Pearson.”

“Pearson?”

“Yes, he was the most knowledgeable person in the state on mining operations. My guess is that Pearson stumbled upon this black site because he knew something was not right. Either the permit didn’t match the operation, or there was no permit, and he inquired and was told through channels to just drop it. I mean, really, who knows how Pearson figured it out? But my guess is that he did.”

“And Garder found Pearson and started paying him as a source?”

“That’s my hypothesis,” he said.

“And I gather you don’t think Pearson died a natural death?”

“Correct.”

“And that Garder did not sneak back into the country and take him out?”

“Correct. If my young, high-minded agent was correct—another wild hypothesis, I grant you—I think it was our friends in Langley or JSOC. They put a team onto it after Garder went AWOL and discovered, ironically, where the breach was in their black program—it was Pearson. And they plugged the leak.”

“Dennis, but doesn’t that seem, well, too outlandish? The CIA puts together a secret operation in the outback that presumably no one knows about, and then starts killing Australian citizens when they find out? Really!”

“Ah, but you’re thinking of the normal CIA, and you’d be right to think that way,” he said. “But this thing was being run out of the Agency’s Special Activities Division. This group operates in complete secrecy and has almost no oversight, except from the White House. And those guys are off their rocker. I’ve heard of some wild programs going on that you just have to shake your head at.”

“Dennis,” Judy said, putting down the long sheet of paper, “I promise this is the last time I’ll bring this up, but don’t you think you might have been manipulated by Garder?”

“You’re right to keep pressing me on this, Judy, but my gut tells me that Garder was telling the truth. He could have put a bullet in the back of my head and been done with me while I was tied up. But he didn’t. And you have to remember these younger millennials in the Agency aren’t as cynical as the rest of us. Some actually have a conscience. Not like me; I don’t give a shit.”

“Technically that’s not true any longer,” Judy said. “I’m gathering you do give a shit, and that’s why you’re on this crazy, self-appointed mission.”

“I can’t tell you why I suddenly give a shit, but there it is. Yes, I give a shit now.”

She sighed. “All right then, let’s look at the map, and I’ll try to advise you on your ‘give-a-shit’ mission. No more warnings from me. I’ll be dispassionate about this.”

Dennis gently removed the tape holding the map on the wall and dropped it onto his bed so that they looked straight down on it. Small numbered pink sticky notes peppered the surface of the map.

Judy followed Dennis, and they stood side by side like two Greek gods staring down at the world below.

“Do you want something to eat or drink before we start?” Dennis asked.