Vanishing Point - Marc Cerasini [16]
Alvarez followed Reed's gaze to the tetherball stand outside.
"Yes, Dr. Reed."
"Could you move it."
"Of course, sorry. I was trying to fix the backup generator. It blew yesterday, when we tested the coupler set up. I had to reconfigure a few of the..."
"Move the pole. NOW!"
Alvarez flushed red. Pushing up his thick glasses, he tucked his head into his chest and ran to the tetherball pole. He yanked on the rope until the pole toppled. Corporal Stratowski joined him and together they used the concrete-filled tire to roll the post out of the way. A moment later the tractor rumbled through the door of Hangar Six.
"Got it, partner?" Stratowski asked.
"Sure, Corporal," Alvarez replied. "Thanks for the help."
A crane rolled out of another hangar and approached the steel tower. Stratowski joined the others, following the tow vehicle to the base of the structure. Dr. Reed and Dani Welles passed Alvarez on their way out. The Team Leader glanced at the nerdy technician, who was struggling to position the pole as close to the hanger wall as possible.
"A grown man and he still plays tetherball. Can you believe it?" Megan Reed said incredulously.
Dani shrugged. "He plays solo squash, too. Last week I saw him over at the dorms before sunup. I'm sure he didn't know anyone was around. The dude's hot. He was wearing nothing but shorts, and he whacked that ball like a pro. I was surprised to see how trim he is. Hides it under those ridiculous clothes." Dani glanced over her shoulder at Alvarez. "A girl could do worse..."
Dr. Reed snorted. "Antonio? Please. It's lonely out here in the desert, but not that lonely."
When everyone was out of earshot, Dr. Alvarez reached around the pole, until his fingers located a small hole drilled into the metal. He probed inside, until he located two buttons hidden there. He tapped them in a precise sequence, heard a faint beep over the sound of the desert wind and rustling sand.
"Jamey, it's Almeida. Can you hear me?"
The voice that answered was faint, broadcast from CTU Headquarters, Los Angeles, hundreds of miles away.
"I hear you loud and clear, Tony," Jamey Farrell replied after a split-second lag.
"How's the reception. Do you have a clear image?"
"Crystal clear. I don't know how you placed the surveillance camera so close to a top secret test in a photo restricted area. You have to tell me how you did it when you get back."
Tony smiled. "Let's just say that sometimes the best place to hide something is in plain sight."
"Okay, I've activated the digital recorder," Jamey said. "You have unlimited memory available to you, so you should have a complete visual recording of the weapon's set up, the test, and the equipment break down afterwards."
"Excellent. If anyone approaches that array we'll have a photographic record," Tony replied, glancing over his shoulders. "I better join the others now... Over and out."
* * *
12:41:22 p.m. PDT
The Cha-Cha Lounge, Las Vegas
Jack Bauer's right arm felt like lead. It hung limply at his side. With his left hand he wiped a splash of blood off his cheek and stared down at the man slumped in the corner of the room, amid orange shards of the shattered fiberglass chair.
"Who sold you the device and when did you buy it?" Bauer asked in a soft voice.
Max Farrow winced at the sound. His chin was buried in his chest, rivulets of blood ran out of his nose. His left eye was swollen shut when he lifted his face to stare at Jack.
"It was Bix," Farrow croaked. "Hugo Bix. I bought it down at his garage... Paid seventy grand for it..."
"When?"
"Two days ago... Tested it out at the Chuck Wagon Casino yesterday... Big win... Then Bix sent me here 'cause he said the Cha-Cha was an easy touch..."
Farrow's voice caught in a muffled sob. "The son of a bitch lied, and now that bastard Bix is gonna kill me for what I'm telling you..."
Jack looked up, nodded to Curtis Manning on the other side of the one-way mirror. The door lock clicked a moment later, and Jack left the cell. Manning glanced