Читать книгу Sigma Rising - John Randolph Price - Страница 9

At WTCX-TV Channel Eleven in the nation's capital, Keri, given name Kerianne Winslow, stared somberly into the camera as the floor manager said, "Clear, good show."

In a late bulletin at the close of the six p.m. news, she had reported on a four car accident on Highway 1 that left two people dead. With the cut to the commercial, her expression remained serious. Turning to her co-anchor, Chance Patton, she said, "If you've got a few minutes, I'll buy you a drink across the street."

He smiled. "What's the occasion?"

She removed the clip-on mike from her navy single-button suit, her voice low. "I got a tip before we went on the air that might add something to the missing VIP scuttlebutt."

The smile faded. "That's all it is, Keri, pure speculation, nothing verified. I'd rather not play the rumor game."

"I may have something new, only a drink's worth though. I'll meet you outside." They went to their respective offices to pick up coats. Chance was waiting for her at the side door, and held her arm down the sidewalk and across the slushy street.

Keri was tall and slender with shoulder length honey-blond hair and dark blue eyes. Stocky, preppie Chance with contrasting dark hair and eyes, was a pretty boy with a well-modulated radio voice. Keri had heard his real name was Cecil but never asked him about it. She was in her early thirties, Chance ten years older. They had worked well as the early evening anchor team for the past year. Neither were married. The brief conversation from station to bar was on the early snow and Mark Games' "it's only going to get worse" weather report.

Finding two stools by the door in the sparsely crowded bar, they ordered a draft beer. "And fill up the peanut bowl," Keri said as she slipped out of her all-weather coat and folded it on her lap. Chance kept his on. "Now what's this about a hot tip?"

She leaned close. "The first we heard about the disappearances was in the newsroom a few days ago when something came in on the wire about Merriam Livingston-Vance, our UN Ambassador. Right?"

Chance rolled his eyes. "Another example of someone getting carried away, pardon the pun. The report said she was missing and the authorities had been called in. Then later a correction came through, said she and her husband had quietly left town for a well-earned rest in New Hampshire, that the wire service should have checked it out before stirring things up."

The drinks delivered, Keri popped a peanut in her mouth. "Yeah, but it makes you wonder why there was such an initial hullabaloo for something that could be explained away so easily." She held up her beer. "Here's to finding out why."

They clinked their glasses and took a sip, Chance adding, "And to professional reporting."

Keri continued. "And yesterday we hear a couple of the guys talking about Senator Obrey and Justice Ellenberg. Seems someone got a tip that the cops were looking for them. Foul play was suspected because they weren't where they were supposed to be. But a follow-up produced nothing; they weren't lost after all. Then this morning the buzz was that Secretary Matthews' limo was found with the motor running, doors locked, no one inside. Weird. And during make-up before we went on the air, I received a phone call."

He nodded. "Finally we're getting to the ever-thickening plot. Another missing person?"

She retrieved another peanut and chewed it. "It was a man, wouldn't give his name. He said that for some reason, which is our job to determine, our esteemed decision-makers are on the run with carefully planned no-trace escapes from the city. He said as of mid-afternoon today, a dozen top people left suddenly, including members of Congress and the Court, Cabinet officers, and key military personnel.

"When I started to quiz him, he hung up." She paused when she saw a bright flash of light in the mirror behind the bar, realized it was a reflection of headlights from a passing car. She smiled inwardly. A new light. That's what was needed in solving this mystery, a different approach to finding the truth. She would think about it later.

Chance touched her arm. "And?"

She glanced in the mirror again, gathered her thoughts. "Then I phoned the president's press secretary for confirmation, and he laughed at me. Harley said it was nothing but previously scheduled out-of-city meetings, yearly physical exams, and vacations. Roland at AP said he'd heard the reports but hadn't been able to get any corroboration. He's still digging, and so will I, until I have something to take to the boss."

Chance set his glass down gently on the coaster. "You know, Keri, I really can't get excited about his. They were probably just given time off for good behavior."

She brushed aside his attempt at humor and brought up the caller again. "I thought the voice sounded familiar, but I can't put a face or name to it yet. Maybe I'll call everyone in my book for a voice check. Anyway, I know someone from one of the networks assigned to the White House. He may be able to shed some light on this. He's in New York for a couple of days for a meeting of network correspondents. I'm having dinner with him tomorrow night."

"Are you talking about Phillip Lansing?" Seeing her nod, he let out a sigh. "Lansing won't know anything substantial before we do. Why don't you just leave it alone. This isn't the first time the big dealers have skipped out for some R and R. I think you're overreacting."

Keri straightened up, her voice cold. "Whoever made that phone call wasn't someone playing games. He knew more than he said, and the very fact that he called me means something. No, I'm going to stay on this until I have something to go with."

Chance motioned for the bartender, a totally bald heavy-set black man with an eyebrow ring and love is the answer tattooed on his right arm. "Avery, have you heard about anything unusual going on in town?"

Avery picked up a towel and wiped the counter. "Sure, and I wondered why you people didn't say anything about it on the six o'clock news."

"We're known for responsible journalism," Chance said, "nothing but the facts."

"Avery, what do you know?" Keri asked.

He glanced at the other patrons and spoke softly. "From the Supreme Court building to the Washington Monument, security is tighter than on inauguration day. But what I hear, most people won't notice it. No uniformed cops."

Keri asked casually, "What do you think is the reason for the concern?"

The bartender threw the towel over his shoulder. "The word is some top bureaucrats and military people are being abducted by terrorists of the domestic variety."

Chance shook his head. "Yeah, with a whole lot of other people just standing around watching."

Keri kicked his foot. "Where did you hear this?"

"My wife waits tables at the Jockey Club over at the Ritz-Carlton. She overheard it at lunch today when she was pouring coffee for a couple of bigwigs. Then at another table she heard someone say that dozens of officials are missing. Some are probably hiding. But you know what I think?"

"I can't wait to hear," Chance said.

Avery ignored the sarcasm. "The way I see it is some radicals got hold of that antimatter device the government's been keeping under wraps for years, and they vaporized our people."

Chance roared with laughter. "Oh my God, you can't be serious!"

"Sure am. That thing reverse the electrical charges in matter and annihilates it, turns matter into energy, the kind found in gamma rays. It literally dissolves people on the spot without even a puddle on the floor. Kind of spooky, if you ask me. Wonder who'll be next?"

Chance had his head on his arm, still shaking with laughter. "Avery, we've never had such a thing. Where did you get this nonsense?"

"Read about it a few months ago in one of the tabloids. They called it the ultimate weapon. Makes sense to me."

"Thanks, Avery," Keri said. She downed her beer. "Chance, I've got to go. More snow on the way, which is a perfect excuse for a quiet evening at home curled up with a good book. “She paid the bill and Chance helped her with her coat.

She turned back to Avery. "Tell your wife to keep listening. We won't mention names, but any scrap of information could mean something."

The big man smiled. "I got you."

Walking across the street to the parking garage, Chance said, "Thanks for the beer, and if my advice means anything, I'd go easy on the probes. You might be getting in over your pretty head and--"

"What are you saying?"

"That you just might uncover something that puts you in danger. I wouldn't like that. "

She stared at him for a moment, then turned and walked briskly to her car without speaking, puzzled about what Chance might know and wasn't telling her. He wasn't the cautious type, particularly concerning a story. She'd pin him down tomorrow and get it out of him.

***

As Keri opened the door to her apartment the phone was ringing. She immediately recognized the voice as the man who had called her earlier at the station. "Ms. Winslow, are the twenty-four dead or alive?"

She took a deep breath. "So now the number has doubled."

"Count the spouses, Ms. Winslow. They're missing, too."

Keri ran a hand through her hair. "Look, I don't know what their condition is or why you're calling me. I'm in the dark about this like everyone else."

"You have sources. Dig, lady, dig. Don't just accept what's coming in on the wire or what you hear from other journalists. Use your imagination, call in some favors, and find out who or what is behind this."

"Why don't you, whoever you are."

There was a long silence. Finally the voice said, "I can't, but you can. Now listen. Underwood's approval rating is higher than for any president since polling for such nonsense began, and for the most part the country has pulled together in a way seldom experienced in peace time. But you know what will happen if the word gets out that our top people are running. There will be a panic and this administration will be destroyed."

Keri unbuttoned her coat and sat down in the blue velvet wing chair. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do about that. If you know me, you also know I'm second tier anchor at a local TV affiliate, not a network sleuth or a Bernstein-Woodward who's about to be tapped on the shoulder by an all-knowing insider."

The man on the line sighed. "You used to be a damned good investigative reporter, but I guess you've lost your fire. Sorry I bothered you."

With the disconnect, Keri replaced the receiver and leaned back in the chair to think. He's got to be someone in the president's inner circle. There was both fear and anger in his voice. She replayed his words in her mind and began to sense something more than just the protection of Samual Underwood's popularity. He was fearful about what might happen to this country. What if the president and vice president disappeared, too? Lord, this government could be in real trouble. Suddenly she felt a chill of her own apprehension. She wanted to talk to Phillip.

Phillip Lansing, mid-forties, tall and lean with a craggy face and brown hair and eyes, was different than most men Keri had dated. He was sensitive and strong, intellectual but with an earthy quality. She knew she was falling in love with him and could tell he felt something for her, but his divorce a year ago had set him free from what he called a terribly possessive woman. She guessed he wasn't ready for a permanent relationship. That would change if Keri had her way.

She checked her answering machine to see if he had called. Nothing but hangups. Phillip would have left a message. She wished she knew where he was staying in New York.

Thinking of Phillip had settled her nerves. She smiled. Maybe the two of them could get to the bottom of this disappearance act. With that thought, she took off her coat and went into the kitchen to fix something to eat, her mind flipping through names that could possibly shed some light on the mysterious vanishings. Only Phillip Lansing stayed with her through the evening.