them out; I don’t need Washington sending in someone to do it for me. If this guy Price even smells like a field operative to you, I want to know about it. Accidents can happen, and there’s too much at stake for both of us. You remember that.”
“Oh, I remember. That’s why I called you.”
“Good man. I’ll be able to get out of here Saturday. Let’s have a drink on it. I’ll call you early morning.”
“It’ll have to be late. I have an opening to attend at eight at Frago’s. There’s a bar just down the street from it. Working class, no art patrons.”
“Sounds good. I’ll call to verify. Gotta go, now. Keep your eyes open.”
The line went dead.
Leon turned off his cell phone. There was a queasy feeling in his stomach. Accidents can happen. That was going too far, but worrying now was premature. Meet the man; find out who or what he is. Time for maneuvering later.
Leon went to the bathroom and spent over an hour preparing an appropriate fashion statement for a day including luncheon with proper, wealthy ladies of the local garden club.
* * * * * * *
Eric Price arrived at exactly seven in the evening, as prearranged by telephone. The entry-com beeped, and Leon jumped to answer it.
“Yes?”
“Eric Price to see Leon Newell. I’m expected.”
“Park behind the Humvee. I’ll meet you at the door.” Leon pressed a button to open the heavy gate, went to the door and outside to stand on the porch. It was late dusk outside, and red rock bluffs stood in silhouette, but a few bright stars twinkled overhead. Light from inside the house spilled onto the porch, and a yard light mounted above the garage door illuminated the Humvee sitting there. A black BMW sedan came up to the garage, tires crunching rusty scree as it came to a stop behind Leon’s vehicle. The man who got out of the car was tall, slender, wore a dark suit and carried a briefcase. When he came up on the porch he did not smile, but extended a hand.
“Eric Price. You must be Mister Newell.”
Leon extended a limp hand. “Please, it’s Leon.” He suppressed a flinch when Price ground his fingers together in the handshake. “Welcome to the new-age capital of the world.”
Price regarded him somberly with dark eyes. “Haven’t seen any UFOs yet,” he said.
Leon laughed. “Oh, you will. I’ll teach you how to look for them. Come in, before you get cold out here. We’re nearly a mile above sea level, you know.”
Price followed him inside, looked at the beamed ceiling, the leather furniture, the paintings on the walls, the small assemblies of sculpture and glass arranged on tables and shelves. “Very nice,” he said.
“The company has good taste. Something to drink?”
“Coffee is fine,” said Price, and then gave Leon an appraising look. “You come out of Langley, or Washington?”
“Neither. Let’s say I’m on loan to a needy agency. How about you?”
“Likewise. Let’s leave it there. When do I go to the base? That wasn’t in my package.”
“Soon enough. Get settled, and I’ll introduce you around. We can’t just spy on people; we have a business to run.”
“The company actually sells art to people?” A faint trace of a smile came to the hard face of the man. Nicely hewn features, but eyes so dark brown they seemed black. His speech was even and direct, and there were no nervous gestures..
“Of course. We do rather well, in fact. It’s certainly more satisfying than fighting with political cretins for senate appropriations. This Sunday there will be a party in honor of your arrival. It will be your introduction to the opulence here, and the people who live with it.”
“And what does that have to do with the problem I’m here to solve?”
“Nothing, or everything, I don’t know. There might be outside influences involved, and it certainly can’t hurt to befriend the shakers and movers in this town.”
“I suppose,” said Price, “if they understand I’m not a sociable person. It’s not an ordinary part of my job. That’s why I asked.”
Leon poured steaming coffee into two mugs and offered one to Price. “A perfectly legitimate question. Rely on me, and I’ll have you charming people in no time at all. They should include that training for all field agents, I think.”
“I’m not a field agent; I’m an analyst,” said Price, a bit quickly. “I don’t even own a weapon. I climb logic trees and crunch numbers, and I’m supposed to evaluate a technology I haven’t been told about yet. Who’s going to do it? You?”
The man’s look was so direct and focused that Leon felt the hairs move on the back of his neck. It was not the look of a data analyst, he thought.
“I can do it, but I’m surprised you weren’t briefed beforehand. What did they tell you?”
Eric blinked once. “A project called Shooting Star is being run at a hidden base near here, another area fifty-one, and apparently it’s so deep it’s considered beyond black ops. They’ve obtained an advanced aircraft of some kind, and can’t get it to fly for them like the Pentagon wants. I’m here to find out why that is. Is the technology Russian?”
“We don’t know. The people who brought it out to us claim to be eastern European, but won’t identify their country. Very slight accents. Could be Slav.”
“You don’t have any original documentation? No plans or manuals?”
“Nothing. It’s all been done by word of mouth from a few people who arrived with the aircraft.”
“Let me guess. They don’t know how to fly it.”
“Apparently not. Our guess is they stole it. We’ve spent a year probing around east Europe to see if anyone, particularly the Russians, is missing anything. The report I’ve seen says the entire craft arrived in one piece on a Swedish-registered ship, and was airlifted here. Look, these are questions you should ask at the base when we get you there. You just got in; relax a bit. At ease, soldier.”
“I’m not a soldier,” said Price, “and neither are you. It seems both of us are on loan to Gil’s office, and he’s the only boss we have in common. So quit fishing. I’m not happy about being here in such a stupid situation, and I like to be well briefed before I begin an assignment. That isn’t happening.”
Leon thought of the file he’d read on Price, and thought, Ph.D. prima donnas can be such absolute pricks. “Then I suggest you complain about it to Gil right away. He’ll explain to you I’m only a liaison to the base, and what you want will come from Colonel Alexander Davis, who heads the project. My function is to integrate you with the civilian community, get you settled and up to speed on our communications with Langley and Washington. And I really do hope we’re going to get along personally, If not, then you can drive back to Phoenix and fly away to wherever you came from. There will be no solo players in this operation. I won’t stand for it, and neither will Gil,
