Vanishing Point - Marc Cerasini [36]
Dr. Megan Reed was unlike any research scientist Palmer had ever met. A tall, striking blond in pearls, a crisp business suit, and high heels, she boldly shook the Senator's hand when they were introduced. She immediately dismissed DeBlasio and took charge of her VIP guest. Since both of them knew it would be unwise and unlawful to discuss the Malignant Wave Program before they arrived at the secured top secret site, the Senator and the scientist talked about their destination instead. The woman proved to be an eager and determined tour guide.
"Have you ever visited Groom Lake before, Senator?"
"I haven't," Palmer replied. "But I'm impressed by the high level of security at this terminal."
Dr. Reed nodded. "I'll pass on your compliment to Beverly Chang, or you can tell her yourself. Dr. Chang is one of the researchers in the Malignant Wave program. She was also in charge of instituting the new security protocols."
Palmer looked around. The concrete interior of the restricted terminal on the northwestern edge of McCarran International Airport was unimpressive. He glanced back at the glass doors he'd passed through earlier. The Tropicana and New York New York casinos were so close to the building they seemed to border the runway.
"I understood that Groom Lake is close to being deactivated. Was I misinformed?"
"Not at all, Senator," Megan Reed replied. "Activities on the base are winding down ahead of the scheduled deactivation. Staffing is down, but several top secret research programs still continue."
Dr. Reed did not mention the fact that those research projects were also close to deactivation — or rather, de-funding — or that Malignant Wave was at the top of the Senate Defense Appropriations Committee's endangered projects list. Palmer had come to Nevada this day to assess the program as part of his duties as chairman of the committee. He took a special interest in Malignant Wave because the weapon they were developing was supposedly based on nonlethal technology. Palmer was enthusiastic about any weapon system that had the potential to minimize casualties in times of war.
Dr. Reed took the lead. "If you'll follow me out to the airplane."
They passed through another glass door. The afternoon was dazzling, the sky a clear, cloudless blue. The brightness of the day was intensified by the sun bouncing off the bleached concrete. The noise of jet engines was deafening, so conversation ceased until they crossed to the portable staircase that led into the belly of the unmarked Boeing 737-200 parked on the tarmac.
Here, the main terminal at McCarran Airport was clearly visible across a stretch of runway, and the illusion that the Las Vegas strip bordered the runway was intensified as well. The looming shadow of The MGM Grand's green "Emerald City" towers appeared to stretch across the perimeter of the landing field.
Dr. Reed led Palmer up the stairs and into the cabin. Inside the airliner, the buffeting noise of jet engines subsided, the only sound was the steady hum of the on-board climate control system. The pilot and an air steward, both in United States Air Force uniforms, greeted them inside the door.
"I'm Captain Brent, Senator Palmer. Welcome aboard Janet Three-two-three."
Palmer noted that Captain Brent was close to retirement age. He also noticed several campaign ribbons on the officer's dress uniform, including those for Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm. Respectfully, the Senator shook the combat veteran's hand.
Megan Reed then directed the Senator to seats at the front of the craft, close to the pilot's cabin. Behind them a scattering of civilian and military workers pretended not to stare at the high-profile politician in their midst.
"I see the Air Force is in charge of transport now," Palmer noted.
"That's correct," Dr. Reed replied, fastening her seat belt. "Formerly, the defense contractor Edgerton, Germeshausen and Grier, Inc. managed transport