Deception Point by Dan Brown Page B

startled. “Certainly you can’t mean me, sir?”
    The President laughed. “No, this is not your area of expertise. Besides, I’ve already achieved verification through extragovernmental channels.”
    Rachel’s relief gave way to a new mystification. “Extragovernmental, sir? You mean you used the private sector? On something this classified?”
    The President nodded with conviction. “I put together an external confirmation team—four civilian scientists—non-NASA personnel with big names and serious reputations to protect. They used their own equipment to make observations and come to their own conclusions. Over the past forty-eight hours, these civilian scientists have confirmed the NASA discovery beyond the shadow of a doubt.”
    Now Rachel was impressed. The President had protected himself with typical Herney aplomb. By hiring the ultimate team of skeptics—outsiders who had nothing to gain by confirming the NASA discovery—Herney had immunized himself against suspicions that this might be a desperate NASA ploy to justify its budget, reelect their NASA-friendly President, and ward off Senator Sexton’s attacks.
    “Tonight at eight P.M .,” Herney said, “I will be calling a press conference at the White House to announce this discovery to the world.”
    Rachel felt frustrated. Herney had essentially told her nothing. “And this discovery is what, precisely?”
    The President smiled. “You will find patience a virtue today. This discovery is something you need to see for yourself. I need you to understand this situation fully before we proceed. The administrator of NASA is waiting to brief you. He will tell you everything you need to know. Afterward, you and I will further discuss your role.”
    Rachel sensed an impending drama in the President’s eyes and recalled Pickering’s hunch that the White House had something up its sleeve. Pickering, it appeared, was right, as usual.
    Herney motioned to a nearby airplane hangar. “Follow me,” he said, walking toward it.
    Rachel followed, confused. The building before them had no windows, and its towering bay doors were sealed. The only access seemed to be a small entryway on the side. The door was ajar. The President guided Rachel to within a few feet of the door and stopped.
    “End of the line for me,” he said, motioning to the door. “You go through there.”
    Rachel hesitated. “You’re not coming?”
    “I need to return to the White House. I’ll speak to you shortly. Do you have a cellphone?”
    “Of course, sir.”
    “Give it to me.”
    Rachel produced her phone and handed it to him, assuming he intended to program a private contact number into it. Instead, he slipped her phone into his pocket.
    “You’re now off-the-grid,” the President said. “All your responsibilities at work have been covered. You will not speak to anyone else today without express permission from myself or the NASA administrator. Do you understand?”
    Rachel stared. Did the President just steal my cellphone?
    “After the administrator briefs you on the discovery, he will put you in contact with me via secure channels. I’ll talk to you soon. Good luck.”
    Rachel looked at the hangar door and felt a growing uneasiness.
    President Herney put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and nodded toward the door. “I assure you, Rachel, you will not regret assisting me in this matter.”
    Without another word, the President strode toward the PaveHawk that had brought Rachel in. He climbed aboard, and took off. He never once looked back.

12
    R achel Sexton stood alone on the threshold of the isolated Wallops hangar and peered into the blackness beyond. She felt like she was on the cusp of another world. A cool and musty breeze flowed outward from the cavernous interior, as if the building were breathing.
    “Hello?” she called out, her voice wavering slightly.
    Silence.
    With rising trepidation, she stepped over the threshold. Her vision went blank for an instant as her