The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(76)
“So we have nothing.”
“I didn’t say that. We have nothing direct. However, I’ve been running some cross correlation algorithms against the recorded phone conversations of all of the scientists on the program.”
“Yes?”
“It looks like a small subset of them are working on something in a different wing of the Rho Project building.”
“Let me guess. Nancy Anatole is one of the ones working in that section.”
“Bingo.”
“A bit thin. Anything else?”
“One other thing. I ran a voice stress analyzer on every one of the recordings. The voice stress in the Anatole group is higher than the others, in every case.”
“Who had the highest measurements?”
“Dr. Anatole and Dr. Rodriguez.”
“What about Stephenson?”
“Cool as a cucumber. The man is completely calm and comfortable.”
“So you think Rodriguez is in as deep as Dr. Anatole?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. He has some other reasons for stress. His son has been in and out of cancer treatment for the last several years.”
“That would do it.”
“One final thing, Jack.”
“What?”
“I think you can pretty much rule out Gil McFarland and Fred Smythe. No voice stress, and they’re not part of the Anatole grouping.”
“That’s good to hear, although it’s what I expected. They seem to be just good, solid folks. Listen, I have to pick up Janet. Get back to me when you have something new.”
“Wilco.”
Jack flipped the cell phone cover shut and then, glancing quickly around, stepped into the Audi.
Chapter 54
It was more than could be hoped for: a sunny, warm February morning after a night of fun with his extended houseguest. Priest Williams stretched his arms wide, letting the bright rays of the sun irradiate his naked body. The thin air of the high country provided little filtration, a fact that sent anyone concerned about cancer or premature aging scurrying for the SPF 45 sunblock, even in the midst of winter.
Priest smiled. That was one of the many things he no longer had to worry about.
Feeling his stomach rumble reminded him of one of the things he did need to attend to, though. Although he imagined that he could survive a very long time without food, it would not be pleasant. And his guest certainly needed to be fed if she was going to last as long as he wanted her to. That meant today was shopping day.
Turning away from the sun, Priest stepped back through the doorway from his deck into the bedroom of his cabin, closing the sliding glass door behind him. As he headed toward the shower, he threw the Navajo rug over the closed trapdoor leading to the soundproof cellar below. Then, whistling the theme song to The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
The drive into Los Alamos took a little over forty-five minutes in the truck, most of it a bone-rattling ride along the dirt road that led from his cabin back to the highway. By the time he pulled into the Safeway parking lot, noon was not far away.
Priest’s tastes were not fancy. Steaks, burgers, fries, milk, cereal, coffee, beer, chips, and salsa. Throw in a couple of impulse items on the way back to the register, and he was done.
Opening the tailgate, Priest quickly transferred the bags into the bed of the truck. Then, as he was about to slam the tailgate closed, he saw someone who caused him to move out of sight behind the passenger side of the vehicle.
There, on the far side of the parking lot, just getting out of a red Audi Quattro, was Jack Gregory. Priest felt the hair along his neck, back, and arms stand straight up.
“Jack, my boy,” Priest breathed. “Now what in the world is a heavy hitter like you doing in town?”
Priest had run into Jack Gregory on three separate occasions. Once in the horn of Africa, once in Afghanistan, and the last time in Pakistan. Priest had never liked him, and the feeling was mutual. Still, there was one thing to be said for Jack. He was the deadliest man Priest had ever run into, perhaps the only one who could handle someone like Abdul Aziz without the special augmentation Priest now enjoyed.
Priest clenched his teeth so hard they threatened to crack. With a deep breath, he forced himself to relax. As much as he owed Jack personally for what he had done to Priest in Pakistan, that would have to be put on hold. Dr. Stephenson would certainly want to know about Jacky boy's presence here.
Priest keyed in the speed-dial number for Stephenson and was reaching for the send button when he saw her. The woman was strikingly beautiful. Tall. Athletic. She moved with all the grace of a dancer right up to Jack Gregory, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss that elevated Priest's heart rate just watching it. She slid into the passenger seat of the Audi, and Jack closed her door behind her.
Suddenly Jack paused and raised his head, almost like an animal catching a strange scent on the wind. Priest ducked back behind the truck. No doubt about it. That bastard was dangerous.
After several seconds, Jack got into the Audi and drove away. Priest watched the car disappear around the bend and then stepped out from behind his truck once again.
Who was the hot little number with Jack? Without a doubt, she was an operative, and if she was teamed with Jack, that meant she was one of the best.
The last time Priest had met Jack, it had ended badly, with Priest's body broken in so many places he had barely survived. Jack did not like being double-crossed. But now, Priest was not the same man. Now he had a little surprise in store for his old acquaintance.