Nora leaned forward, staring. She saw it almost immediately—an old disturbance in the Gigantes valley, the faint ghost of a road that went into the valley and ended in a circle. A large area, strangely blurred from this height, with nearly invisible tracks crisscrossing each other in the middle of the circle. It sure looked like an old crash site, covered up and undisturbed for decades.
An excited babble of voices rose in the room as everyone else saw it.
“A picture’s worth a thousand words,” Tappan finally said. “And this one represents good news and bad. The good news is this must be the real crash site. They covered it up as best they could, and time has done its work—but nothing is invisible to lidar. You can clearly see the scars even after all these years. The bad news is that all those old tracks and disturbances indicate the government found it long ago.” He looked around. “Any questions?”
“What’s that mark going through the upper corner of the image?” Banks asked. “Is that a road?”
Kuznetsov answered. “Yes. It’s not on our maps, but then there are a lot of old ranch roads that were never put on maps. I don’t think it has any relevance.”
“Could that be where Bitan got picked up?” Banks continued.
“It’s possible,” said Kuznetsov. “But at first glance, the track doesn’t look like it’s seen any fresh traffic. We haven’t examined it in detail.”
“Thank you,” said Tappan. “Nora? Your turn.”
Nora stood up. She looked around the table but didn’t detect any knowing smirks. “As soon as we grade a road to the site, we’ll transfer our equipment and proceed with immediate excavation. All indications are that this is where the, ah, object landed after the skip site—and was then, perhaps, retrieved by the government.”
“How long will it take to build the road?” Banks asked.
“We can almost drive there now, cross country. There are just a few small sections that need equipment to grade a safe passage for the jeeps. We’ll have to skirt those grassy hills, but that’s not a big deal. We should be able to complete a rough road in less than a day.”
“How far is it from here?” Vigil asked.
“About eight miles.”
“And how long will the excavation take?” Kuznetsov asked.
“We don’t know how deep we need to go,” said Nora, “but it looks like ground similar to here. I would guess a week or even less. It’s a more compact site. By the way, just to be safe, I’ve reviewed our permits. We’re clear to proceed. All we have to do is report the change of venue to the Department of the Interior.”
As she sat down again, she was aware of a strange dynamic in the room. Everyone was clearly excited by this discovery. On the other hand, there was every reason to believe the government had gotten there first. But gotten there and done what? She just wasn’t willing to accept it was some alien UFO. She even felt—ironically enough—her skepticism reasserting itself, as if in reaction to her feelings for Tappan. After all, it could have been an advanced missile, or an unusual meteorite, or an experimental aircraft—any one of which could have been retrieved by the government, and the site then covered up.
But she didn’t mention any of this. And when there were no further questions, Tappan adjourned the meeting.
38
WATTS EASED HIS sheriff’s vehicle down the road through the cottonwood trees until the view suddenly opened up to reveal a broad sandy beach—and beyond, the braided ribbon of the Rio Grande. The sun was just rising over the river, turning it into molten gold.
He brought the Explorer to a halt, powering down the windows and turning off the engine. He reached into the back and removed a coffee carrier. He handed Corrie a giant lidded cup and a foil-wrapped burrito. “Coffee and breakfast. As promised.”
Sitting in the passenger seat, Corrie gingerly accepted them, spread some napkins in her lap, and took a grateful slug of coffee, noting the extra cream and sugar.
As if reading her thoughts, Watts said: “I remembered how you like it, sweet and thick.”
Corrie had expected breakfast in a café, not this. This was, she thought, more like a…well, a breakfast date. She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind. FBI agents did not date county sheriffs. Especially over breakfast.
“When I was a kid, we used to ride our horses down here,” Watts said. “It’s one of my favorite places. We waded across the river and rode into the Bosque del Apache, that giant grove of cottonwoods on the other side. You being recent to New Mexico,” he continued, “I thought you might like to see it.”