I had no idea as to the time, although Chad might have been right about the Charleston suggestion. It felt like we'd been traveling about half a day. The little I could see of the facility was that it looked like a military base. Maybe a kind of underground bunker in case of nuclear war. I mentioned this to Jones as we walked away from the truck.
'You're not too far wrong,' he said. 'The Agency has many similar facilities across the world. They're used for a variety of purposes. Mostly experimentation. Research. And watching. Always watching.'
'How does the government fit into all this?' I decided to ask him straight out. 'How are they involved?'
'The Agency is independent of all government bodies,' he said. 'Governments are ignorant—mostly—of our existence.'
'Mostly?'
'The Agency has been around for centuries,' he said. 'That's not easy to keep secret.'
I began to wonder about all the alien abduction talk over the years. And human experimentation. Maybe they weren't so crazy after all.
We entered an enormous cave larger than a football stadium. There were high tech devices all over the place. Odd-looking aircraft. Computer systems. Pieces of machinery that looked like weapons, but I had no idea what they did.
There were people everywhere. It was like Grand Central Station with people heading in all directions. Most of them looked like scientists; they were dressed in white lab coats. Others were administrative workers. There are no soldiers. This wasn't a military base.
'We call this The Cavern,' Jones explained. 'Among other things, the ceiling opens up so that VTOL aircraft can take off.'
VTOL, I thought. That stands forVertical Take-Off and Landing.
'And the American government just lets you work here,' Chad said, giving me a look.
Mister Jones sighed. 'I'll just say that we have people in the government who make certain that this piece of real estate remains undeveloped.'
Chad asked Mister Jones about a platform set up on one of the trucks. A metal doorway was erected on it, but it led nowhere.
Jones gave a short laugh. 'That's an interesting one to ask about,' he said. 'It's an experimental teleportation device called a jumpgate.'
'Teleportation?' Ebony said. 'Teleports you where?'
'They're not really sure,' he said. 'That's why it's still experimental.'
Entering a tunnel, we climbed aboard a waiting jeep and were soon arriving outside a concrete structure built into the rock. It reminded me of those ancient Indian ruins like Montezuma's Castle. Piling out, we followed Jones into an office where a receptionist sat at a desk.
'Hey Wally,' Jones said. 'We're here to see—'
'So,' Wally interrupted, his name badge identifying him as Mister Evans. He looked past Jones at us. 'Our little birds have returned.'
Jones smiled without humor. 'Just tell Twelve we're here.'
Wally picked up a phone and spoke quietly into it. 'You can go in now,' he said, turning to us. 'Twelve has been waiting for you.'
We followed Mister Jones into the office and sat.
'Good afternoon,' the man behind the desk said. 'I'm Twelve.'
He didn't look like an alien. Actually, there are victims of Hollywood plastic surgeons who looked more alien than this guy. Twelve appeared to be about sixty years old. He was clean-shaven with a crew cut. Graying hair. No smile.
You wouldn't look twice if you passed him on the street.
But he was an alien.
Incredible.
Ebony looked a little scared by the experience. Brodie appeared concerned. Dan seemed in awe of it all. Chad looked like—
Well, he was Chad. He always looked like he was either bored or searching for a fight.
'We have met before,' Twelve continued. 'But I understand your memories were wiped as part of the modification process. The last few days must have been very confusing for you.'
'Confusing is one way of putting it,' Dan said.
The alien gave something that was almost a smile. 'I'm sorry about the difficulties you've endured. The Agency is a big organization with many branches. I suppose it was inevitable that a rogue organization would eventually infiltrate us.' He paused. 'I believe Mister Jones has already told you about Typhoid.'
'A little,' Brodie said.
'Just the basics,' Mister Jones added.
Even he seemed in awe of the alien.
Twelve nodded. 'Typhoid is a mercenary organization that sells its skills to the highest bidder,' he said. 'They've been involved in several attacks over the years, including the murder of the Swedish Prime Minister, a wave of bombings in Iraq and the destruction of a passenger jet over the Atlantic last year.
'It goes without saying they are both a ruthless and dangerous organization. We need your assistance to stop them in their latest mission.'
'Mission?' Chad said.
'I didn't mention that part,' Mister Jones added.
Twelve nodded. 'You've been given amazing abilities to make the world a better place,' he said. 'Now, it's time for you to put those abilities to good use.'
'And what's this mission, Mister Twelve?' Dan asked.
'Just Twelve will suffice,' the alien said. 'As you're probably aware, the distribution of plutonium is rigidly controlled by world governments because of its possible use in nuclear weapons.
'Despite their best efforts, we believe that Typhoid recently acquired a quantity of weapons-grade plutonium from a disgruntled employee within the former USSR.' Twelve paused. 'That alone is a problem, but to make matters even worse, about a year ago, an experimental missile was stolen from a facility in Atlanta. The missile is known as Pegasus.'
'As in the winged horse?' Brodie asked.
Twelve nodded. 'Pegasus is the first missile ever to be installed with a full range of stealth capabilities. It can avoid radar detection as well as dramatically reduce audio, visual, radio, and infrared visibility.
'We believe that Typhoid has processed the plutonium, constructed a nuclear warhead, and are preparing to install it into Pegasus. In short, the missile will become the perfect weapon. It can fly halfway around the world at speeds of up to Mach three.' He paused. 'To make matters worse, we believe a terrorist organization recently paid one billion dollars to Typhoid to target Pegasus at an American city. We need your assistance to stop that happening.'
I tried to put all this together in my head. Typhoid had attached a nuclear bomb to a special kind of rocket that could avoid radar detection. It was almost unstoppable. And then another organization had paid Typhoid to fire the weapon at an American city.
And the people who were supposed to stop this from happening was…us?
Brodie frowned. 'Um, I'm sure we'd be happy to help, but—' She quickly looked to the rest of us '—surely with your alien technology you could—'
Twelve interrupted. 'The Bakari are only watchers,' he said. 'Observers. Our role is to track the progress of humanity without interfering. Having said that, we have no desire to see millions of people die. Humanity must learn to look after its own problems. You have, after all, created most of them.' He let that sink in. 'This is one reason why we developed The Alpha Project. To give humanity an edge against destructive devices such as this.'
'But don't you have other—what do you call us—modified humans you can use?' I asked.
'There are others,' Twelve admitted. 'But you've been modified with your own specific abilities for this particular mission. The Agency uses an artificial intelligence system that determines who is best suited to what project. You're the ideal team for this assignment.'
'Where's this missile?' Brodie asked.
'It is being held on a small island called Cayo Placetas.'
'You can't just use the military?' Chad asked. 'Or NATO or someone?'
'The United States will not attack a foreign country without provocation—especially Cuba—and officially, we have no evidence that Typhoid is operating from the island.'
'So how can we succeed?' I asked.
'Typhoid agents are highly trained operatives, but they don't have extraordinary powers. They don't have superpowers. That's why Typhoid attacked The Agency. Through a leak in our security, they found out about you and decided to remove you from the equation. We need to land you on Cayo Placetas so you can destroy the guidance system before Pegasus is ready to fire.
'What if we get caught?' Brodie asked. 'What's to stop us from blabbing about The Agency and aliens and—'
'You have a shut-off switch,' Mister Jones interrupted.
'Huh?' I said.
'Sorry,' Jones apologized. 'Let me rephrase that. You have a poisonous capsule inserted just under your skin that can be activated by remote control. It can kill you instantly.'
Which means we're trained pets, I thought. The Agency can kill us at any time.
'You really know how to sell a car,' Chad said.
'I won't gloss over how serious this is,' Twelve continued. 'It's a dangerous mission. You may even die.' He paused. 'But you'll save millions of lives if you succeed.'
'How do we destroy Pegasus?' Brodie asked. 'Providing we agree to this deadly mission.'
Mister Jones intervened. 'Fortunately, Pegasus has one glaring weakness. Its guidance system is operated from a server on the island. It's impossible to fire the weapon if the computer system is destroyed.'
'So, you're saying we only need to destroy the computer,' Dan said. 'Providing we go.'
Twelve leaned back in his chair. 'And I'm prepared to offer you a deal,' he said.
'Which is?' Brodie said.
'Technically, you belong to The Agency—'
'I don't belong to anyone,' Chad cut in angrily. 'I certainly—'
Twelve held up a hand. 'I might remind you that no one even knows of your existence. As far as the outside world is concerned, you don't exist. If you were to refuse to carry out this assignment, we could kill you instantly.'
I glanced over at Mister Jones.
'It's true,' he said and drew a forefinger across his throat. 'Kaput.'
'And if we do this mission?' I asked.
'You can resume your lives,' he said. 'We will deactivate the poisonous capsules. You can start afresh. Your lives will be your own to live without having to worry about The Agency or Typhoid ever again.'
Chad sat forward. 'That sounds like a carrot and stick idea,' he said. 'A carrot to move us forward while a stick threatens us from behind.'
'You may see it that way if you wish.' Twelve let the words hang in the air. 'We've watched the human race for centuries as you've fought your petty wars and committed genocide. Our role is to observe. If you don't agree to this assignment, then millions of people will die. We would prefer not to observe that particular disaster.'
No one spoke for a while.
'Providing we do this,' I finally said, 'how long do we have to get ready?'
'Three weeks,' Jones said. 'We can't wait any longer than that.'
Three weeks. It didn't sound like long. Still, we had superpowers, and Typhoid didn't. And Brodie, Dan, and I had saved Chad and Ebony with no training at all.
Twelve picked up his phone and spoke to Mister Evans. 'Has Doctor Sokolov arrived yet?' He nodded. 'Good. Show her in.'
An attractive woman, slim bodied with black hair and round-rimmed glasses, entered the room carrying a tablet. She had dark rings around her eyes. She either partied too much or got too little sleep.
'Twelve,' she greeted him.
'Alpha Project,' Twelve said to us. 'Doctor Anna Sokolov will be in charge of your progress here at The Agency.'
'It's good to see you again,' the doctor said.
'We've met before?' Brodie asked skeptically.
'I initiated you into The Agency when you first arrived,' Anna said. 'Before everything went haywire. Now you must begin the next step of your training.'
Judging by her name, I assumed she was Russian, but her accent was very faint. I looked closely at her face. She was a beautiful woman, maybe about twenty-five years old. Glancing back at Brodie, I noticed her watching me, and frowned.
Oops.
'I'll take you to your quarters,' the doctor said. 'I suggest you get a good night's sleep. Your training starts tomorrow.'
'It won't be anything we can't handle,' Chad said, laughing.
'We'll see,' the doctor replied.