—
The slivovitz brandy sloshed back and forth in Werner’s tumbler as he looked through the little window at the clouds and the landscape far below. Were they passing over Kansas? Missouri? What was the difference? Both flat, dull states, meant to be flown over.
He looked over at his brothers. Manny was relaxed, watching a movie on his iPad. Hans was going over paperwork.
“I don’t see why we all needed to make this trip,” Werner said to Hans. “We have people to take care of security breaches. Security is your area.”
“This is more than a security breach. This is a potential disaster,” Hans said. “And it’s family.”
“We aren’t even certain of their plans. For all we know they could be going to Vegas to shoot some craps,” Werner said.
“Hans is right,” Manny said. “This is family and we need to take equal responsibility for what must be done. We all know they aren’t going to Vegas for a night on the town. They’re in Nevada to destroy us, and we have to make sure that doesn’t happen. We should have taken care of this when we first recognized the problem, but we’re all a bunch of softies.”
This got a laugh out of all three of them. Truth is, they weren’t soft. They’d underestimated the enemy.
“Do you really think Günter is working with Emerson?” Werner asked.
Hans shrugged. “No way to know for sure, but it would make sense. Either way, if they’re a team or working separately, they need to be stopped. Permanently.”
“And you think they’re in Nevada?” Werner asked.
“I know they’re in Nevada,” Hans said. “My men have seen them.”
They all looked toward the back of the plane. The door to the rear compartment was closed. It was the old man’s private lair. He and his nurse. He was along for the final kill.
—
At precisely nine o’clock, Xandy showed up at the door to the bungalow and loaded Riley and Emerson into her Volvo. She drove them several miles down a very dark road, parked behind a piñon tree and a rock formation, and passed out night vision goggles.
“Are these so we can spot Cammo Dudes?” Riley asked.
“Mostly they’re so you don’t step on rattlers,” Xandy said.
They left the Volvo and set out on foo
t over the uneven ground, following Xandy through the Tikaboo Valley. There was barely a sliver of moon in the sky, and Riley was happy to have the goggles. Snakes aside, it would have been difficult to travel without assistance.
They’d walked for a little over an hour when Xandy pulled up. “If you look straight ahead you can see the surveillance towers on the next ridge.”
“I imagine they support cameras and lights,” Riley said.
Xandy adjusted her goggles. “That’s what they’d like you to believe.” She lowered her voice. “The cameras are decoys. They look like cameras but they have special technology that can fry your brain. You get too close and Zzzzzzt, your brain leaks out of your ears and you’re left with nothing in your head.”
“That would be unfortunate,” Emerson said.
“Yeah,” Riley said. “I bet you hate when that happens.”
“The ridge marks the perimeter of Nellis Air Force Base. Beyond that you’re in Area 51. We’re close enough now that I’m sure the Cammo Dudes are watching us. I’ll swing to the northwest and draw their attention. Then you can cross over.”
“What will they do to you?” Emerson asked.
“Nothing. Just point their guns at me, make a lot of threats, and then send me on my way. We’ve done this dance before. They think I’m a harmless nutjob alien hunter.”
Emerson adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder. “I’m sure you’re not harmless,” he said to Xandy.
“Thank you,” Xandy said. “That means a lot coming from Mr. Mysterioso.”
Riley and Emerson watched Xandy trudge off to the right and continue trudging until she was a small figure on the horizon. Suddenly she turned and raced toward the AFB perimeter screaming like a banshee. Within seconds a Ford F-150 truck zoomed over the hill toward Xandy, headlights blazing. Men in camouflage spilled out and rushed around her.