Vanishing Point - Marc Cerasini [83]
She glanced at the clock. JANET 9, the next flight of the evening, arrived in less than ten minutes. She'd already verified the IFF signal, and the pilot had radioed in. If she bothered to look, Airman Hwang could watch the blip approaching the base on her radar. Instead she headed for the tiny kitchenette to brew more tea.
Feeling lonely, she considered calling Tom, the night officer downstairs, just to hear a human voice. But the man on security detail in the tiny terminal building would only think she was interested in him and hit on her. The military was different than the real world. A girl had to watch how she presented herself, lest the men around her neglect to take her seriously.
She was filling the tea pot at the sink when a silhouette loomed in the doorway. Startled, Trudi yelped.
"Whoa. Calm down. It's me... Beverly."
The woman stepped into the light and Trudi breathed a sigh of relief. "Dr. Chang. You scared the heck out of me."
Beverly Chang smiled, displayed a plastic bound folder. "Sorry. I was delivering the new security protocol codes."
"You could have left them in the box," Trudi replied, moving the pot to the hot plate. "Or you could have delivered them tomorrow."
"I was awake. Big demonstration today, another experiment Tuesday. Lots to do..."
Turning away from the woman, Trudi shook her head. "I don't know how you scientist types do it, I mean..."
The silenced gun coughed twice. Trudi tried to cry out. Instead she dropped the tea pot and pitched forward.
Beverly Chang gripped the gun in her trembling hand, stared down at the corpse at her feet. She dropped the weapon and ran out of the tower and down the stairs. Another body sprawled on the terminal's linoleum floor. She stepped over the murdered duty officer, burst through the door.
16THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 3 A.M. AND 4 A.M. PACIFIC DAYLIGHT TIME
3:02:51 a.m. PDT
Runway 33R/15L
Groom Lake Air Force Base
Beverly Chang listened for the sound of jet engines. After a seemingly interminable wait, she heard a distant whine. Minutes passed. Finally blinking lights appeared in the black night sky. The lights dipped, dropping below the mountain range, plunging into Emigrant Valley.
Finally, Dr. Chang watched the Boeing 737 touch down in a cloud of desert dust, then taxi along Runway 33R/15L until it reached the tiny terminal building.
Covering her ears against the noise, Beverly rushed to the airplane the moment the passenger door opened. Two men — Chinese — jumped out and ran to retrieve the portable steps. It took them only a moment to roll the stairs to the aircraft. The first man to emerge at the top of the stairs was Jong Lee, an armed woman behind him.
"Jong Lee. I must speak with you," Beverly cried.
Lee descended the steps. Ignoring her, he moved aside while armed men poured out of the airplane. Guns drawn, boots pounding on the concrete, they fanned out across the facility. Beverly counted thirty men, most, but not all of them Asians.
"Jong Lee, don't ignore me," she demanded. "I have done everything you've asked of me."
Finally, the tall man faced her. "Everything?"
Beverly Chang nodded. "I've given you the security codes. I killed the people in the tower."
He raised an eyebrow. "And Malignant Wave?"
"The device has been installed in a prototype helicopter in Hangar Five. The aircraft is ready to fly."
Beverly reached out to clutch his arm. Yizi pushed her away.
"My sister. Her family," Dr. Chang cried. "You promised me they would be set free in exchange for what I've done."
Jong Lee well knew, and exploited, Beverly Chang's tragic family history. While Beverly and her family immigrated to America in the 1970s, the woman's infant sister remained with her grandparents. The young woman became an outspoken member of the Falun Gong movement, and she and her family were among the first to be arrested when the People's Republic of China began to suppress the quasi-religious movement in the 1990s. As far as Lee was concerned, they'd earned their fate, as Beverly Chang would now