evildoers.
Sweetwater said, “I don’t want to go to jail. We should turn ourselves in. Running makes us look like we’re guilty of something.”
I said, “One of us
is
guilty. I ought to pound the shit out of you.”
He shrank into the stained motel chair, not saying a word. I continued, “It wasn’t a UFO. It’s something else. Something that’s definitely tied to the federal government, but Jennifer’s right: Those men weren’t agents. They were local security for Aegis Solutions. That hangar has something inside it that they want to keep secret—and not just from civilians. They want to keep it secret from everyone, including the government.”
Jennifer turned the computer toward me and said, “Take a look at this.”
I leaned in saying, “What is it?”
She said, “Last month there was a freak rainstorm. A bunch of ranchers out near the Pecos River said they saw something crash during the storm. The area was immediately cordoned off by government types.”
I scanned the news article and saw it was more about bullshit UFO conspiracy theories than anything that could help us. I said, “You think this is connected?”
“Maybe. That little creek where they’re building the dam would have been a flash-flood river. Maybe whatever crashed broke apart, and pieces of it were washed downstream.”
I thought about what I’d seen inside the hangar and the conversation between the two lab rats. Then about how this was
absolutely
not my problem.
She leaned back and put her hands behind her head. I could see the gears turning. “What?”
“Nothing. Just had a thought.”
“Well, spill it.”
She sat up and said, “Okay. We know something crashed and they cordoned off the wreck. Suppose they tried to gather up the pieces, but they couldn’t find them all. The creek’s a raging river, so they have to wait until the storm passes and it subsides. When that happens, they scour the terrain but come up empty. Now, another team is out there, maybe a foreign government. Aegis is more concerned about keeping
them
from finding it than an actual recovery, so that’s what they focus on.”
I saw where she was going. “By burying it under the water of a man-made lake . . . I’ll be damned, no pun intended. You’re pretty fucking smart.”
She scowled theatrically at my cursing and I quickly said, “Pretty friggin’ smart . . .”
She broke into a real smile and I returned it, feeling the connection. Like a bad wingman in a bar, Sweetwater shattered the mood, saying, “I still think we need to go to the police. There was a shootout today. People died.”
I
really
wanted to punch him.
I said, “You do what you want to do, shithead, right after you write us a check.”
“What? A check? You didn’t do what I hired you for.”
I leaned into him, saying over my shoulder, “Jennifer, what did he hire us for?”
“To confirm or deny a site of archaeological significance in advance of a dam’s construction, thereby preventing its loss.”
With my eyes locked on his, I said, “And did we accomplish that objective, Jennifer?”
“Yes. We determined that the area in question, while it contained artifacts from several different epochs, was not in and of itself of any archaeological significance. Mainly because the artifacts had been scattered about by the jackass that hired us.”
I put my hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. I said, “Now, if you like, we can put that in a report, of which a copy will go to the preservation society. I’m sure they’d like to know how their hard-gained artifacts were being used by their president. Either way, get out your damn checkbook or I’ll take it out of your hide.”
I expected Jennifer to stop me, but she didn’t. She just sat there with a scowl on her face, her arms crossed, glaring.
He raised his hands and said, “Okay, okay. I’ll pay what we agreed to. No need for a report.”
He stood, saying, “What now?”
“Well, we’re
Sweetwater said, “I don’t want to go to jail. We should turn ourselves in. Running makes us look like we’re guilty of something.”
I said, “One of us
is
guilty. I ought to pound the shit out of you.”
He shrank into the stained motel chair, not saying a word. I continued, “It wasn’t a UFO. It’s something else. Something that’s definitely tied to the federal government, but Jennifer’s right: Those men weren’t agents. They were local security for Aegis Solutions. That hangar has something inside it that they want to keep secret—and not just from civilians. They want to keep it secret from everyone, including the government.”
Jennifer turned the computer toward me and said, “Take a look at this.”
I leaned in saying, “What is it?”
She said, “Last month there was a freak rainstorm. A bunch of ranchers out near the Pecos River said they saw something crash during the storm. The area was immediately cordoned off by government types.”
I scanned the news article and saw it was more about bullshit UFO conspiracy theories than anything that could help us. I said, “You think this is connected?”
“Maybe. That little creek where they’re building the dam would have been a flash-flood river. Maybe whatever crashed broke apart, and pieces of it were washed downstream.”
I thought about what I’d seen inside the hangar and the conversation between the two lab rats. Then about how this was
absolutely
not my problem.
She leaned back and put her hands behind her head. I could see the gears turning. “What?”
“Nothing. Just had a thought.”
“Well, spill it.”
She sat up and said, “Okay. We know something crashed and they cordoned off the wreck. Suppose they tried to gather up the pieces, but they couldn’t find them all. The creek’s a raging river, so they have to wait until the storm passes and it subsides. When that happens, they scour the terrain but come up empty. Now, another team is out there, maybe a foreign government. Aegis is more concerned about keeping
them
from finding it than an actual recovery, so that’s what they focus on.”
I saw where she was going. “By burying it under the water of a man-made lake . . . I’ll be damned, no pun intended. You’re pretty fucking smart.”
She scowled theatrically at my cursing and I quickly said, “Pretty friggin’ smart . . .”
She broke into a real smile and I returned it, feeling the connection. Like a bad wingman in a bar, Sweetwater shattered the mood, saying, “I still think we need to go to the police. There was a shootout today. People died.”
I
really
wanted to punch him.
I said, “You do what you want to do, shithead, right after you write us a check.”
“What? A check? You didn’t do what I hired you for.”
I leaned into him, saying over my shoulder, “Jennifer, what did he hire us for?”
“To confirm or deny a site of archaeological significance in advance of a dam’s construction, thereby preventing its loss.”
With my eyes locked on his, I said, “And did we accomplish that objective, Jennifer?”
“Yes. We determined that the area in question, while it contained artifacts from several different epochs, was not in and of itself of any archaeological significance. Mainly because the artifacts had been scattered about by the jackass that hired us.”
I put my hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. I said, “Now, if you like, we can put that in a report, of which a copy will go to the preservation society. I’m sure they’d like to know how their hard-gained artifacts were being used by their president. Either way, get out your damn checkbook or I’ll take it out of your hide.”
I expected Jennifer to stop me, but she didn’t. She just sat there with a scowl on her face, her arms crossed, glaring.
He raised his hands and said, “Okay, okay. I’ll pay what we agreed to. No need for a report.”
He stood, saying, “What now?”
“Well, we’re
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