Booker felt deflated. Donald had him by the arm and pushed him back into the white hall with the colored arrows on the floor. Several paces ahead of them, Robert and Dr. Heart were walking together. Behind them, two PCs marched silently. This time, they followed a blue line for a quarter of a mile until the white hallway gave way to a cavernous hangar. Inside looked like a traditional aircraft hangar, huge puddle lights hanging from the arched ceilings, tools and workbenches lined the walls, and several aircraft were parked inside.
There was a dark gray, disk-shaped aircraft reminiscent of every flying saucer Booker had ever seen in a comic book or on TV. Hoses and monitors attached to different sections of the hull, and a mess of consoles nearby displayed readouts from the aircraft. Glancing inside the flying saucer through the open belly compartment, Booker thought he saw strange markings that could have been hieroglyphics or a language of some kind. But they were walking too fast for him to get a good idea of what was inside.
Captain Tully must have been watching him, because he said, “Don’t get too excited. That’s a fake. Propaganda. We park it outside to freak out anyone with satellites overhead. We keep the real ones somewhere else.”
Booker didn’t respond. Further examining the contents of the hangar, he saw black jet powered airplanes nearby. He recognized an SR-71 blackbird among them. As they made their way deeper into the hangar, closer to the enormous sliding doors that presumably opened to the desert, he saw two white airplanes with red stripes down the sides; a Boeing 737 and a smaller Airstream with the steps unfurled from the entry port. Beside those was the huge white tic-tac shaped aircraft from his father’s presentation.
The tic-tac’s legs were deployed, and its hatch open, ready for passengers to board. The silver spheres were secured to the top five metal stands nearby. A sixth stand was empty.
Their small party approached the tic-tac without contest. Robert was the first to reach the craft, and, standing underneath it, grabbed a metal briefcase shaped console from a table and opened it. The device looked like the one Booker and Joanna had seen in his office before the sphere crashed, with small differences.
This one was larger and looked like a more complete product. The one Booker and Joanna had used looked as if it had been thrown together in a garage somewhere. This one shone with expensive polished metal, and crisp LCD display screens.
Robert began punching some commands into the console. A hum filled the air, and a blue light began emanating from the five spheres to their right. One of them floated silently over to them. The other four floated inside the tic-tac via the open hatch in the belly of the craft. Once all four had disappeared, Robert hurried forward to a command module beside the enormous hangar doors and flipped a switch, causing the doors to grind and whine as they slowly slid open. A buzzing alarm sounded at two second intervals accompanied by a yellow spinning light overhead to announce the doors opening.
A gust of cool desert air ruffled Booker’s hair as wind and dust swept into the hangar. It was fully dark outside. Stars dotted a mostly cloudless night, and a silver half-moon shone brightly. The hangar doors opened up to the opposite end of the runway at Groom Lake Air Force Base. Over a mile away, across the salt flats, Booker could see the lights of Laketown and the airstrip hangars. This side of the runway was dark. The asphalt leading into the mountain hangar did not have lights at all, probably to better hide it from sight.
Robert hurried back to the briefcase console. Beside Booker, Donald cracked his neck and said, “Let’s get this over with already!”
“Everyone, back up! Evilyn, take the sphere!” said Robert. They all retreated further back into the hangar, close to the smaller of the two white, unmarked airplanes. Evilyn held the sphere in her arms, which seemed to have shut off.
Robert punched more commands into the console and the tic-tac craft closed its porthole and began to hum as the legs retracted and it floated in midair.
“What’s this about, Robert?” said Donald, as they all watched the tic tac gently waft out of the hangar doors and into the dark desert night.
“Nothing is strong enough to penetrate the hull when the craft is operational. But an attack from inside will disable it. Once it’s out of range, I’ll activate the spheres, and they’ll destroy the craft from the inside. It will take the Colonel years, decades even, to recreate my work. After tonight, I'm the only one who will be able to recreate this technology. Are we ready?”
“Go on then!” said Donald.
Booker watched as his father looked at Evilyn, who was still holding the fifth sphere. She nodded and Robert punched in the final commands. Outside, the white tic-tac rose high over the salt flats, almost out of sight. It was nothing more than a dark spec on the deep blue sky, but then it seemed to glow an eerie blue. It was dim at first but grew brighter and brighter until there was a blinding flash of white that caused Booker to shield his eyes. When he opened them, he caught a glimpse of a huge fireball that quickly curled into black smoke.
The light of the explosion was almost completely gone when the concussion wave reached their ears. The floor shook and dusty air billowed all around them as hot air from the blast bounced off the floor of the hangar.
Booker, having ducked involuntarily as the concussion wave ripped through the air around them, slowly straightened up. As he did so, a voice from deep within the hangar bellowed, “What have you done!”
Booker turned to see Colonel Jacobs, still in full dress uniform and accompanied by at least ten armed men, marching toward them. Bringing up the rear of the new party were FBI Agent Carol Summer and Joanna, still in her red gown. Both women were being escorted at gunpoint by one of the armed men of the Colonel’s group.
Beside him, Donald said, “And here we go”
Booker eyed the Colonel’s approach. He was tall, broad shouldered, and bald. His uniform, impeccable. His expression, hard. He struck an imposing figure flanked by armed soldiers on either side. Booker saw the recognizable faces of PCs among the Colonel’s men. Five or six of the group were PCs, while the rest seemed to be normal airmen.
Donald grabbed Booker by the arm again and dragged him backward, toward the open air outside the hangar. Robert and Evilyn followed suit, as did the two PCs who had accompanied them from the temple. Soon, the two parties were facing off a few feet apart.
The Colonel said, “What have you done, Robert? Dr. Heart? The sphere - hand it over!”
Neither Robert nor Evilyn spoke. But Donald began to laugh beside Booker. All eyes turned in his direction as he said, “What are they doing here?”
All eyes now turned to Joanna and Summer. The two women exchanged a look, as the Colonel said, “At this point, I haven’t the slightest clue why any of you are here! But I don’t care anymore. We’ll sort out who is who tomorrow.” Turning to his armed men, he said, “Take them all!”
Before any of the armed men could cross the open floor between the two groups, Donald raised a hand and said, “Not so fast there, boys!”
To Booker’s surprise, the men stopped and exchanged looks.
“Take them!” shouted the Colonel.
Donald grinned and said, “Kill the Colonel’s Airmen!”
Immediately, shots fired from both sides. The two PCs standing beside Booker and Donald pulled out their side arms and fired at the Airmen approaching them. From the Colonel’s side, each of the armed PCs turned on their fellow Airmen and fired, killing them all, including the ones holding Joanna and Summer. The deluge of bullets only lasted a moment, but when the last pop echoed around the hangar, only armed PCs were left.
Several bloody bodies lay strewn across the floor. Donald was the only one who seemed unfazed, as the Colonel, Joanna, Summer, and Robert and Evilyn slowly straightened up or dusted themselves off. Donald walked forward, pulling his own side arm out and checking the chamber to make sure it was loaded and ready to fire. He stepped over the first corpse, approaching the Colonel who was standing up slowly now.
Donald said, “You forget yourself. This is my base! Not yours!” Pointing to Dr. Heart with the barrel of his gun he said, “She made sure that all these photocopies listen to me, remember?”
“Take him!” shouted the Colonel. “What are you doing? Shoot him!”
None of the PCs reacted to the Colonel’s orders as Donald laughed again. He said, “Oh, how I’ve waited for this. These photocopies are my blood, Colonel! They’d never choose you over me! We have the good Dr. Heart to thank for that one.” He bowed in the direction, extending his arms wide like wings. “Now here we are. I’m your Captain no more. I’m about to be a free man!”
“You won’t last a day. The whole nation will come after you!” said the Colonel.
Donald stroked his chin in a mocking sort of way, and said, “You would send the cavalry to find us, wouldn’t you? I guess I’ll just have to kill you now.” He pressed the gun against the Colonel’s forehead. To his credit, the Colonel only glared as Donald began to pull the trigger back, the hammer extending ever so slightly. But then he pulled the gun away and circled back, saying, “But not yet. We still have a lot to take in before deciding who lives and who dies. Like this one-”
He pointed the gun at Joanna this time. She was standing beside one of the dead airmen and had been eyeing the rifle still clutched in the dead man’s hands. “Watch her. She’s a slippery one,” said Donald and one of the PCs stuck a rifle barrel into her back and she raised her cuffed hands slowly.
Approaching her, Donald said, “You’re the one at the center of all this, aren’t you? Ruiner! Deceiver! You’re the one who caused all of this! If not for you, our plan would have gone off just fine! The Colonel gets his party, we get his sphere the next day and he is never the wiser! We’re free! But you had to ruin everything, didn’t you?” Now he placed the barrel of the gun against Joanna’s forehead and began to laugh again. But he shook his head and turned away yet again, banging his own forehead with the barrel of the gun.
“It still doesn’t feel right!” He rounded on Booker, Robert and Dr. Heart now. “What about you, pretty lady?” he said, pointing the gun at Dr. Heart.
“Jesus, Donald. This isn’t funny!” she said.
To Donald, it must have been very funny because he only laughed harder as he approached her. “‘Monster,’ you called me! Am I the monster? Am I? I see the way you look at me! You tolerate me because you need me! But once we’re out of here, what then? Will you abandon me? Betray me?” He used the hand holding his pistol to caress her cheek, and she pulled away.
Robert stepped between them and said, “Enough, Donald! You’ve made your point! Let’s get out of here!”
“Or you!” Donald shouted, pressing the gun into Robert’s chest. “What about you? You’re just like the rest of them! I’m just an animal to you. Dirt! Filth! And all because I don’t soliloquize about the stars and heaven and all that bull shit? Your head is shoved so far up your own goddamn ass, I’m surprised you can even breathe! You think you’re better than me? You’re not better than me! You’re just a boy, playing with his toys.”
Robert continued shielding Evilyn from Donald’s ire, but his face shook, and eyes closed when Donald shoved the gun barrel under his chin. Donald seemed to let himself enjoy the moment before slowly lowering the gun.
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“I just want to be free!” he said, circling back again. “Free! I’m not the monster. It’s you! You! You! You!” He pointed the gun at the Colonel, Joanna, Evilyn, and Robert with each word. Then he rounded on Booker, as though just remembering that he was there. “And you.” he said, sneering. “What about you, boy? Are you a monster?”
Booker clenched his jaw and Donald pressed the gun against his forehead. Donald said, “What do you have to say?”
Booker’s fists were balled at his sides. He had nothing to say, but he felt a burning fury inside. He was itching to fight. To knock the gun aside and punch, kick, kill!
Donald chuckled as he looked at Robert, still shielding Dr. Heart from Donald. He said, “Nothing for the boy?”
When Booker looked, his father looked back, but said nothing.
In a low voice, Donald said, “It’s always the ‘great’ men, isn’t it? But we know better!” As Donald’s trigger finger itched, Booker could see the hammer once again begin to pull back.
Robert spoke, saying, “Enough, Donald! Stop this madness or the deal is off!”
Donald rounded on him, and yelled, “The deal is off? As if I need you. Any of you! Who started selling secrets to Hummel Labs? I did! Who recruited the two of you? I did! Who came up with our escape plan? Negotiated our price? Decided when to strike? I did! It was you, Robert, who messed this all up! I don’t need either of you. I just need the sphere! I can make the drop myself!”
“The sphere is useless without me!” said Robert. “You don’t even know how to get it open, let alone turn it on!”
“Them boys at Hummel will figure it out soon enough, I’m sure,” said Donald.
“You’ll never get away with this!” said the Colonel.
“Watch me!” said Donald, rounding on him. “You can’t touch me, Colonel! Once I have my money, I’ll be gone. And I’ll sleep well, knowing your precious pet project is in the hands of more capable men in the real world, outside of Groom Lake.” Donald chuckled looking around at them all once more. “But who should I bring with me?” His eyes fell on Summer. “How about you?”
She tried to back away, but he grabbed her by the back of the neck and held her face close to his own. She looked away as he sniffed her neck and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Special Agent Carol Summer, of the FBI. Wouldn’t you like to fly with me tonight?”
Summer shoved his arm aside and pushed herself away from him. One of the PC’s caught her as Donald laughed. He considered her for a moment longer before circling around again. Pistol in hand, he made a dismissive gesture at Robert, and said, “I’ve had enough of you.” He eyed Evilyn for a moment but shook his head. “Spoiled. Used. The two of you are perfect for each other. Both of you will stay here.”
Then Donald rounded on Booker once more. “What about you, boy? Booker Dunn. The wonder kid.” He pulled the hammer back on his pistol and pressed the barrel against Booker’s forehead once more. A shiver ran down Booker’s entire body, but he gritted his teeth and looked right into Donald’s eyes.
Donald said, “You’ve caused us all a great deal of trouble, and for what? Nothing. You’re good for nothing here, boy. No point taking you with me. No point keeping you alive. Where does that leave us?”
Over Donald’s shoulder. Booker caught sight of Joanna. She was staring at him, eyes seeming to sparkle in the dim light of the hangar bay. When their eyes met, he saw her give him the slightest of nods and a little smirk. It was so subtle, he might have thought he saw nothing at all, but then she made her move.
He watched as she spun, thrusting her elbow into the face of the PC holding her at gunpoint. She grabbed him and his gun, using him as a shield as the other PCs rounded on her. Shots rang out again, earsplittingly loud in the cavernous hangar.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Booker pounced a moment after Joanna made her first move, knocking Donald’s arm aside, rearing back, and headbutting him as hard as he could. The crunch of bone on bone rang in Booker’s skull and the whole world went dark for a second as he recoiled from hitting Donald’s face. But he steadied himself as shots continued to reign in from every direction.
When his vision cleared, he saw Donald, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand, and then advancing with a nasty grin on his face. Booker dodged a fierce uppercut, but the right hook caught him clean across the face and he fell hard.
Donald surely would have killed him there, but, when Booker rolled over, he saw his father tackling Donald to the ground, Donald’s gun flying out of his hand. He dove for the gun as one of the PC’s spun around to take aim at him. He fired without thinking, lying on the floor, and the PC fired at the same instant. Booker’s aim was true. The PC’s was not. Cement dust burst all around Booker as the PC’s bullets struck all around him, but the PC himself fell back and moved no more.
Booker jumped to his feet, aiming the gun wildly around. Everyone had scattered, diving for cover one way or another. There was another PC taking aim at him. He fired two shots, missing both times, as the PC dove out of the way. He spun around again and now saw Donald getting to his feet. Robert had been thrown aside, and Donald had taken one of the fallen Airmen’s rifles.
Booker fired, but his clip was out. The gun just clicked lamely as Donald racked his rifle, took aim and fired. Booker didn’t even try to move. He took a sharp intake of breath, closed his eyes, and felt it happen.
The force of the bullet was like getting smashed by an oncoming truck. He was carried clean off his feet and heard a sickening thunk as the back of his head smacked the concrete. The backs of his eyelids seemed to sparkle with white and yellow stars, and he slowly cradled his head with his hands. It felt like an elephant was on his chest, crushing him against the cold concrete. But even the realization occurred to him, the weight lessened, and he felt warmth spreading across his chest.
Opening his blurry eyes, breathing shallowly, he looked down to see his hands stained with blood from his shirt. The noises all around seemed so distant as he looked at the blood on his hands. Arms wrapped around him, and he was hoisted up into a sitting position against someone. Blinking furiously, he looked up into the face leaning over him.
It was Joanna. She was holding him close to her chest, and the lights from the hangar ceiling above them had her blond hair seem to glow around her shadowy face. looking down at him, one of the lights far above made her blond hair glow around her shadowy face. She was pinching his face with one hand and shaking him.
“Wake up! Stay with me! Look at me, Booker!” Her voice was low.
He blinked again, clearing his vision. He didn’t know what to say. His head was pounding, and he imagined that every fierce beat of his heart was sending gushes of blood out of his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said in a lame voice. But he wasn’t sure why.
She just grinned. “So much for smooth sailing,” she said. He could see tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.
“I must have really ruined your plan,” he said. The words escaped his lips and seemed to echo in his own aching skull, causing more throbbing pain.
“No,” she said, squeezing him tightly. “This isn’t your fault.”
Booker couldn’t help grinning, but he felt a sinking feeling deep down. He knew that she would have been better off without involving him. “I just thought I could help. My father, and you. But I just made things worse.”
Somewhere nearby, he heard Donald screaming in frustration! Booker turned his head and saw Donald standing over the briefcase console. Robert was kneeling beside the console, looking up at the sky outside. Donald said, “Where did you send it?”
“The sphere is gone! I’ve destroyed it! Neither you nor Jacobs will ever touch it again!”
“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” screamed Donald, firing a round into Robert’s briefcase console with each shout!
Booker would have continued watching Donald’s fury, but Joanna shook him slightly and he looked up at her again. “You listen to me, Booker,” she said, almost in a whisper, squeezing him again. “Don’t listen to what they tell you. You can do great things. I know it! Trust your instincts and choose your own way. You don’t need me. You don’t need your father. You’ll shine so much brighter on your own! I just hope I’m there to see it.”
A few of her warm tears landed on his cheeks and she took a shaky breath. Then, she started to collapse backward, closing her eyes as she went. Booker sat up, as her weak arms fell away from him, and she crumpled to the concrete floor. That’s when he saw the dark stain in the middle of her dress.
Checking his own bloodstained shirt and hands, then feeling his chest and stomach, he realized that he had not been shot. He was fine! It was Joanna’s blood! She must have tackled him to the floor and taken the bullet for him! She saved him.
Her eyes were closed tight, and her hands were pressing hard down against the gunshot wound on her stomach. Her skin was clammy and pale and getting more pale by the second. He quickly used both hands to press down on the gunshot wound and looked around to get his bearings. His head was still foggy after having smacked the concrete when he fell, and his eyes stung from the lights above them.
More dead bodies were bleeding over the concrete around them. The Colonel lay face down, but looked as if he were still breathing. Summer too was on the ground, covering her head with her arms.
Donald kicked Robert to the ground. With his boot on Robert’s chest, he pointed his gun into Robert’s face and said, “That was a bad move, Robert!”
“The last sphere is gone. That’s all that matters now!” said Robert, hands up.
Evilyn rushed forward and fell to her knees beside Robert and yelled, “No! Donald, don’t do this!”
Nothing seemed to happen for a moment. Teeth bared and chest heaving with each heavy breath, Donald slowly lowered his gun and let Robert sit up. He chuckled again and said, “The ‘last sphere’ you said? No, that’s not right. There’s one more left. And she knows where it is!”
He turned around to look at Booker and Joanna, a mad glint in his eye and a horrible smile spread across his face. He rushed forward and pulled Booker into a headlock. Booker felt the barrel of the gun against his temple as Donald leaned over Joanna and said, “Wake up, pretty lady! Now’s the time to come clean! Where’s that last sphere? Tell me now, or I will blow his brain all over the pavement!”
Joanna was even more clammy now, and her eyelids drooped heavily. She looked at Donald but didn’t seem to have the strength to speak.
“Where is it!” screamed Donald.
Joanna’s lips moved slowly, but Booker couldn’t hear what she said. Neither, it seemed, did Donald. He said, “Louder!”
In a weak voice, Joanna said, “I’ll show you.”
“Tell me now or I’ll -” But Donald didn’t have a threat ready to deploy.
Joanna said, “I’ll show you. Let him go, and we can fly there.”
Donald shoved Booker aside and called the two PCs who hadn’t been shot. “Put her on the plane.” Rounding on Summer, he said, “You! Get up!” Rushing over to her, he grabbed her by the arm and wrenched her up to her feet. “You got first aid training?”
Summer just stuttered, shaking her head furiously, but Donald slung her into the arms of the second PC and said, “Take her as well! And Agent Summer - If your friend dies, you die!”
The PCs loaded Joanna and Summer onto the smaller unmarked jet airplane, clumsily climbing the unfolded stairs from the entry port. After a moment, the engines on the tail end of the jet spooled up as Donald surveyed the carnage around them.
Evilyn and Robert were still on the ground, watching Donald fearfully. The Colonel was stirring now, but only a little. Booker watched as the plane started pulling away and Donald ran to jump onto the descended steps. Holding the handrail, he looked back at them as the plane left the hangar. Over the whine of the engines, Booker barely heard Donald yell, “Good luck, kid!” before he disappeared inside the plane.
Colonel Jacobs slowly got to his feet as the jet turned down the taxiway, and Booker rushed over to him. He said, “Tully took Joanna and Summer. He’s forcing them to show him where the last sphere is!”
Rubbing his head, the Colonel said, “The sphere?”
“The one you thought was stolen! Joanna knows where it is, and soon Donald will have it!”
“Joanna doesn’t have the sphere,” said the Colonel.
“But it crashed yesterday! I saw it! She must have taken it-”
The Colonel cut him off and said, “I know. She returned the sphere to me. It’s in my office. She gave me the sphere, and she gave me the device that brought it down.”
“What?” said Booker, floored by this information.
“Who are you?” said the Colonel.
“Booker Dunn,” he said.
“Booker Dunn? You’re Robert’s son? Wait - you’re the one that stole my sphere! You’re supposed to be in the infirmary!”
“Jesus Christ,” said Booker, clapping a hand to his forehead in frustration. “I didn’t steal anything. You’re saying you have the sphere?”
“Yes,” said the Colonel. “She said a JANET pilot helped her smuggle it into the base, and she handed it over as soon as she landed. The secrecy was necessary because she said you must have had help from inside the base.” Looking at Robert and Dr. Heart huddled a few yards away, he said, “I never would have believed it was Robert behind this. And Donald too?”
“Why was she in handcuffs then?” said Booker, cutting him off.
“Joanna? Because she stole from me! She said she was here to help - just to return the sphere - but I knew better. She has a reputation. I knew she was after something. I just didn’t know what! I was waiting for her to strike. Giving her space to work was the only way to figure out what she was really after!”
Booker looked over his shoulder at the JANET jet taxiing on the dark runway. “If you have the sphere, then where are they going? Why would she take them away from this place?”
“It doesn’t matter where they are going!” said the Colonel. “I’ll have them shot down before they make it to 1,000 feet. I should have known Donald would turn the PCs against me. But it doesn’t matter! They’ll be purged tonight. I’ll have my airmen operating the surface to air missiles within minutes.”
“You can’t shoot them down!” said Booker. “There are innocent people on that plane!”
“Innocent?” said the Colonel. He pushed Booker aside, saying, “Out of my way, boy. I’ve got work to do!”
The Colonel rushed over to a console with a communication array and picked up the phone to make a call. On the ground, Robert and Evilyn had their heads together, commiserating. Robert looked up at Booker and they locked eyes for just a moment. Booker was the one to break the connection.
Running a hand through his hair he dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out the crumpled-up postcard.
To: Booker Dunn
From: no one
Watch the sky
Take the box from the office
Leave after Summer
Private terminal on the West side of McCarran
JANET flight 412 arrives at 5:07 pm
Don’t trust the doctor
Don’t trust the Captain
There’s still time to help your father.
P.S. You can trust your neighbor
Eyes scanning line by line, he shook his head. It didn’t make sense! He looked at the last line of the postcard, then at his father, still sitting on the ground a few yards away. Then he looked at the jet, now nearing the main runway for takeoff.
“Screw this,” said Booker, tearing the postcard in half. He tossed the shredded pieces over his shoulder and ran toward the open hangar doors. There was an old military spec jeep parked just outside. Open top, white star on the door, and drab green paint. Even from here, he could see the keys dangling from the rearview mirror.