. . . a tiny but devious smile curled the corners of his mouth.
18
Nevada
‘I don’t like this,’ Eddie muttered as he and Nina walked towards the security station.
‘Well, yeah, we’re taking a hell of a risk,’ she whispered. ‘We’re trying to get into a top secret government facility under false pretences – and that’s assuming we can trust Dalton not to have set us up to be thrown into prison for the rest of our lives.’
‘No, I don’t mean that.’ He tugged irritably at the too-tight collar of his US Air Force uniform, rented from a high-end theatrical costumiers in New York. ‘I meant me, dressed as a fucking crab!’
‘A what?’
‘It’s the army nickname for flyboys.’
‘Why crabs?’ Nina asked, puzzled.
‘Because their uniforms are the same colour as the ointment they used to put on soldiers’ tackle if they caught crabs.’
‘I wish I hadn’t asked. Okay, here we are.’
They were inside the ‘Janet’ facility at Las Vegas’s McCarran Airport, which served a private airline used to ferry workers to the military testing grounds in the desert far north of the city. ‘Janet’ was a jokey acronym from the days when the US government routinely denied that any such facilities existed: ‘Just Another Non-Existent Terminal’. Since it was now overlooked by the enormous black glass pyramid of the Luxor hotel, that degree of cloak-and-dagger secrecy had been rendered pointless – but the terminal was still off-limits to all but authorised personnel.
So far, the passes grudgingly arranged by Dalton had got them through the main gate, but more stringent checks awaited. Two armed security men manned an X-ray conveyor and body scanner; another pair of large guards lurked near the door leading to the tarmac. All eyes were on the new arrivals as they crossed the concourse. At this time of day, they were the terminal’s only visitors, the current shift’s workers having departed for the desert hours before.
They reached the checkpoint. ‘Can I see your passes and flight documentation, please?’ a guard rumbled, giving them both looks of institutional suspicion.
‘Certainly,’ said Nina brightly, taking out her paperwork. ‘I’m Dr Nina Wilde; this is Captain Tyler. We’re both going to Silent Peak.’ She said their destination as casually as if she commuted there regularly, but in truth, not only did she not know exactly what she would find at the facility, she didn’t even know where it was. Silent Peak did not exist on any maps – at least, not ones available to the public.
The guard took her papers, then turned to Eddie. ‘And you, sir?’
‘Here ya go,’ drawled Eddie in an abysmal attempt at a Texan accent as he produced his documents. Nina forced herself not to wince visibly. Fortunately, if the guard had any acting critiques, he kept them to himself as he ran a light-pen over the passes. His companion’s eyes flicked between the couple and his computer; after a moment, he nodded. Dalton had been good to his word, at least so far: the documents had been backed up by the government’s computer network.
‘Everything’s in order, sir, ma’am,’ said the first guard, returning their papers. ‘If you’ll put your case on the belt and step into the scanner?’
Nina placed her briefcase on the conveyor, then walked through the arch of a millimetre-wave body scanner. Again, the second guard scrutinised a monitor before giving a nod of approval. Eddie followed her, with the same result. ‘Okay, I’ll let your pilot know that you’re here,’ said the first man, picking up a phone.
‘Thank ya kaahndly,’ said Eddie. Nina wanted to deliver a sharp kick to his ankles to make him stop talking, but since they were being watched could only give a pointed glare.
The guard finished his brief call. ‘Okay, your pilot’ll meet you at the gate in a minute. Have a nice flight.’
‘Thank you,’ said Nina as she and Eddie headed for the exit. As soon as they were out of earshot, she hissed, ‘Will you stop that?’
‘I can’t exactly talk normally, can I? Might be a bit of a giveaway that I’m not really a Yank if I’m all “Ay up, by ’eck, look sithee”.’
‘Then don’t talk at all! Honey, you can’t do accents. Just accept it.’
Eddie huffed, but fell silent as they reached the gate and waited, the other two guards watching them. After a few minutes, a middle-aged black man in a civilian pilot’s uniform arrived. ‘Dr Wilde? Captain Tyler?’
‘That’s right,’ said Nina, with another warning glance at Eddie, who limited