Area 51: Excalibur-6 by Robert Doherty
Authors: Robert Doherty
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, adventure, Historical, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Action, Political, Area 51 (Nev.)
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on me?"
"I haven't. Quinn has. And apparently he was right to."
Duncan frowned. "But this"—she shook the folder— "isn't correct. I am who I am."
"When was the last time you saw your son?" Turcotte asked.
The frown deepened as she tried to remember.
48
Turcotte didn't give her much time to think. "Was it before you ordered me to go to Area 51? Before all this started?"
She slowly nodded. "Yes. We've been so busy since the discovery that—"
"You had time to see him if you had made the time," Turcotte said. "When we were together at your house in the Rockies. I should have known something was strange. I was there but he wasn't. You told me he was with his father, your ex-husband. But there is no father—and no son."
Duncan's pale face flushed red with anger. "I have a son."
"No, you don't."
"That can't—"
Turcotte cut her off. "Why did you order me to go to Area 51?"
"There were reports of irregularities at Area 51," Duncan said. "My son—" she began, but he cut her off once more.
"Quinn hasn't found any of those reports. And he was part of Majestic's support team. He knows how tight security was. And he knows there were no leaks."
Turcotte reached over and took the file from her hands. "And you were appointed as scientific adviser via paperwork—no one ever interviewed you. Hell, your entire background is a fraud. No one cared who the hell the national science adviser was. No one checked. In fact, it appears that someone used Majestic's clearance to get you the slot, yet Quinn has found no record of Majestic doing that. What better way to get someone after Majestic than by using their own security clearance?"
"No." Duncan was shaking her head. "No. I—" She fell silent, overwhelmed.
"Who are you?" Turcotte asked. The strain of the past several weeks, of combat, of seeing men die, of winning
49
battles against the aliens and their minions but always seeming to be behind in the war, was too much for him. He stepped up next to the table, his face close to Duncan's, his voice rising. "Who are you? Why have you done all this?" His hands were on her shoulders, shaking her. "Why?"
"I don't know. I don't. I don't!"
Turcotte blinked, let go of her, and stepped back. Tears were streaming down Duncan's face. He went backward until his legs hit a chair and he collapsed into it. He put his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. His body began shaking. Abruptly he stood, sending the chair flying. He grabbed the door and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Yakov, Che Lu, and Mualama were in the hallway. The Russian stepped in front of him. "My friend—"
"I am not your friend," Turcotte snapped. He poked a finger in the Russian's chest when the man refused to move. "Your 'friend' Katyenka betrayed us in Moscow. You came back here with a bug on you. You shot her—" He jerked a thumb at the door behind him. "What do you know that you haven't told me?" He spun toward Che Lu. "And you? Why did you suddenly decide to go into Qian-Ling?
Convenient timing there. Right after Majestic was compromised." Then he turned on Mualama. "And following Burton? Lying to us about being a Watcher. Telling us about his manuscript in bits and pieces and only the parts you want to." He shoved Yakov out of the way. "I'm done with all of you."
Turcotte made a beeline for the outer door and walked into the bright Nevada sunshine. He blinked, his eyes smarting. At first he thought it was the light, but when he put his sunglasses on they still hurt. He realized he was crying.
Turcotte walked away from Area 51 toward the desert.
50
QIAN-LING, CHINA
The Silk Road was the first connection between East and West in the ancient world. It stretched over four thousand miles from Xian in the northwest of China, across the north China Plain, through the Pamirs and the Karakoram Range to the walled city of Samarkand, across the great desert to Damascus and on to the Mediterranean ports of Alexandria and Antioch.
"I haven't. Quinn has. And apparently he was right to."
Duncan frowned. "But this"—she shook the folder— "isn't correct. I am who I am."
"When was the last time you saw your son?" Turcotte asked.
The frown deepened as she tried to remember.
48
Turcotte didn't give her much time to think. "Was it before you ordered me to go to Area 51? Before all this started?"
She slowly nodded. "Yes. We've been so busy since the discovery that—"
"You had time to see him if you had made the time," Turcotte said. "When we were together at your house in the Rockies. I should have known something was strange. I was there but he wasn't. You told me he was with his father, your ex-husband. But there is no father—and no son."
Duncan's pale face flushed red with anger. "I have a son."
"No, you don't."
"That can't—"
Turcotte cut her off. "Why did you order me to go to Area 51?"
"There were reports of irregularities at Area 51," Duncan said. "My son—" she began, but he cut her off once more.
"Quinn hasn't found any of those reports. And he was part of Majestic's support team. He knows how tight security was. And he knows there were no leaks."
Turcotte reached over and took the file from her hands. "And you were appointed as scientific adviser via paperwork—no one ever interviewed you. Hell, your entire background is a fraud. No one cared who the hell the national science adviser was. No one checked. In fact, it appears that someone used Majestic's clearance to get you the slot, yet Quinn has found no record of Majestic doing that. What better way to get someone after Majestic than by using their own security clearance?"
"No." Duncan was shaking her head. "No. I—" She fell silent, overwhelmed.
"Who are you?" Turcotte asked. The strain of the past several weeks, of combat, of seeing men die, of winning
49
battles against the aliens and their minions but always seeming to be behind in the war, was too much for him. He stepped up next to the table, his face close to Duncan's, his voice rising. "Who are you? Why have you done all this?" His hands were on her shoulders, shaking her. "Why?"
"I don't know. I don't. I don't!"
Turcotte blinked, let go of her, and stepped back. Tears were streaming down Duncan's face. He went backward until his legs hit a chair and he collapsed into it. He put his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. His body began shaking. Abruptly he stood, sending the chair flying. He grabbed the door and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Yakov, Che Lu, and Mualama were in the hallway. The Russian stepped in front of him. "My friend—"
"I am not your friend," Turcotte snapped. He poked a finger in the Russian's chest when the man refused to move. "Your 'friend' Katyenka betrayed us in Moscow. You came back here with a bug on you. You shot her—" He jerked a thumb at the door behind him. "What do you know that you haven't told me?" He spun toward Che Lu. "And you? Why did you suddenly decide to go into Qian-Ling?
Convenient timing there. Right after Majestic was compromised." Then he turned on Mualama. "And following Burton? Lying to us about being a Watcher. Telling us about his manuscript in bits and pieces and only the parts you want to." He shoved Yakov out of the way. "I'm done with all of you."
Turcotte made a beeline for the outer door and walked into the bright Nevada sunshine. He blinked, his eyes smarting. At first he thought it was the light, but when he put his sunglasses on they still hurt. He realized he was crying.
Turcotte walked away from Area 51 toward the desert.
50
QIAN-LING, CHINA
The Silk Road was the first connection between East and West in the ancient world. It stretched over four thousand miles from Xian in the northwest of China, across the north China Plain, through the Pamirs and the Karakoram Range to the walled city of Samarkand, across the great desert to Damascus and on to the Mediterranean ports of Alexandria and Antioch.
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