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Diablo Mesa(56)

Author:Douglas Preston

“I was sworn to secrecy,” Skip said at last.

“Now’s not the time to hold back,” Tappan said angrily. “For God’s sake, Noam could be hurt—even dying. You’ve got to tell us what you were doing.”

“Right. Okay.” Yet Skip still hesitated, looking at the assembled group one after the other, gingerly. “Noam has this theory…” He stopped again.

“Go on,” Tappan said.

Now Skip took a deep, shaky breath and let the words tumble out in a rush. “He’d decided this wasn’t the crash site after all. He called it a ‘skip site’ instead, where the UAP bounced after impact and went airborne again, crashing farther away. He figured the location was out on the Plains of Atalaya or the hills beyond. That’s what we were searching for—the real crash site.”

“And where exactly does he think this site is?” Tappan asked, voice edged with exasperation.

Skip reached into his backpack and pulled out a rumpled piece of paper. “Here’s a map he drew. The area we were searching is outlined in red pencil.”

Tappan snatched it and stared. “What the hell were you two thinking, keeping this secret?”

“It was his secret. It wasn’t mine to betray.” Skip hung his head. “He said he wanted to find it himself. Then he would tell you.”

Nora felt awful. Skip had managed to screw up—again. She could see Tappan was beside himself but controlling it well.

“Okay. All right. We’ll address that later. Skip, can we reach this area by jeep?”

“Yes. You drive across the mesa top to the watchtower, and there’s a way down. We marked the watchtower on the map with GPS coordinates.” Skip paused. “There’s something else, though. On my way back, once I’d given up waiting, I saw some lights in those hills. I don’t know if it was Dr. Bitan or somebody else.”

“Lights?” Tappan was silent a moment. Then he turned to the group. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll outfit three jeeps with water, food, and first aid, and head out at first light. That’s only an hour from now. We’re going to search the entire area marked on this map. Understood?”

He issued some more rapid, specific orders. Then he turned to Nora. “You stay here with Skip and get him cleaned up and bandaged. We’re taking walkie-talkies, and we’ll be in contact in case we have questions for him. Skip looks worse than he’s letting on. And after you’ve taken care of your brother, I want you to get on the sat phone to that FBI contact of yours, report a missing person, and ask her how we should proceed.”

“Right.”

He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Nora.” He turned. “Okay, everyone, let’s get these jeeps loaded, gassed, and ready to roll.”

30

I’M FINE,” SKIP said irritably as Nora tried to wipe his bloody nose with a damp cloth. It didn’t look broken, but it was pretty scraped up. His palms were also skinned, a fingernail torn, and there was a bad abrasion on one knee. Mitty lay on his bed, utterly wiped out.

“Does that hurt?” she asked, moving Skip’s fingers to see if any were broken.

“No,” he said, wincing.

“What happened?”

“Like I said, I slid down a steep slope. What I really need is a shower.”

“All right.” Nora stood. “After you do that, I’m going to put some antibiotic ointment on those scrapes and bandage you up.”

“Fine.” Skip groaned as he eased himself from the sofa and limped into the bathroom. A moment later she heard the water come on.

The time was six o’clock. Was it too early to call Corrie on a Monday morning? Probably not—she had a sense Corrie was an early riser. She went to the sat phone and dialed.

After several rings, she heard Corrie’s voice. “Hello?”

Instantly, Nora could tell something was wrong. “Corrie? Are you okay?”

After a long silence, Corrie spoke. “Not really.”

“What’s happening?”

Another long pause. “Agent Morwood died in a fire.”

“What?”

Another unsteady silence. “There was a fire in the forensics lab late Friday night. He was there for some reason. Killed by smoke inhalation.”

“Oh, Corrie, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m still processing it.”

“What a shock. He was a good man. Do they know how the fire started?”

“They’ve launched an investigation. Everything seems to have gone wrong—the fire alarm didn’t work, the sprinkler system failed…It’s totally fucked up…” Her voice trailed off.

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