“Terrific!” Dee sat down and looked around ecstatically. She was still having trouble absorbing it. “News team? You mean the ones who made that documentary? So are Roland and his ex coming too?” Blair became solemn and shook his head. “What’s up?” Dee asked.
“Marie’s there, but Roland isn’t. It seems they were in a chopper that got shot down. It’s . . . bad news, I’m afraid.”
“Oh.” Dee’s jubilation died abruptly.
“Someone needs to break it to Julia before they get here. I told Wyvex I’d take care of it. I’m on my way over to the house now.”
“I’ll come with you,” Dee said.
* * *
Blair arrived with Dee at Newport Beach a little under an hour later. En route he had received a further call from Wyvex, saying that Vrel and the others hoped to arrive the following day. Julia and Luke were both at home, and Blair broke the news to both of them together. Julia received it stoically. “I see,” was her rejoinder. “How certain are they of this?”
Blair could only shake his head. “I don’t know if Wyvex knew any more than he said. I didn’t press him for details. As far as he knew, Marie and the Hyadean girl were the only two survivors.”
“So there weren’t any actual witnesses.”
“Not as far as I could gather, no.”
“I’m so sorry,” was all Dee could say, again.
Luke had been watching Julia’s face long and thoughtfully throughout. He said nothing.
* * *
A half hour after Blair and Dee left, Julia told Luke that she had some errands to run and left in her cream-colored Cadillac. Two miles from the house, she pulled into a parking area and used the phone that she carried in her purse to call the ISS unit that she reported to under the field name Arcadia. The phone was a special-issue model and connected directly on an encrypted channel. The duty controller took down the details and advised Arcadia to expect further instructions later. He then relayed the information immediately to Kurt Drisson, as per standing orders. Within minutes, Drisson was through to Casper Toddrel, still in Washington, at that moment in an office of the Senate Building, sorting through notes he had made during meetings that morning. Toddrel found a more private room, and Drisson related what he had just learned. For once, it seemed that the intelligence services had better information than Cade’s friends did.
“Obviously, these people in Los Angeles don’t know about Cade and the Hyadean defector,” Toddrel said.
“Check.”
They had been tracked to La Paz following a lead from an informer, and then missed by a matter of minutes. An agent at El Alto Airport had picked up something about two illegals being smuggled out somewhere but hadn’t been able to fix the destination. Now it seemed clear.
“What’s your assessment?” Toddrel asked.
“If the bunch who skipped in Brazil are heading for Quito, that’s where Cade and the Hyadean were heading,” Drisson replied. “They’re all going to meet up there, then fly up to LA together.”
“That’s the way I’d be inclined to see it too,” Toddrel agreed. “But why wouldn’t they mention Cade and the Hyadean to the people in Los Angeles?”
“If they’re not all in Quito yet, it would be premature to presume it. . . . Or maybe they just didn’t want to talk too much about their movements.”
It sounded probable. “And then we’ll have all our problems together—in one place,” Toddrel said. The implication was clear.
“Mmm . . . It would be difficult to arrange an incident there, in Quito, with the time scale we’ve got,” Drisson said. “We don’t have readily available operatives there.”
“I’m not sure I’d want that in any case,” Toddrel told him. “Ecuador is trying to stay out of things politically. We don’t want to risk any embarrassments there. Wait until they get to California. With the current situation, anyone could be suspected. You could use Arcadia. She’s right there, on the spot. Then pull her out immediately afterward.” Toddrel quite liked that idea. It seemed poetic. Keeping her there had been a risky decision. Maybe it could pay a dividend now.