License to Love (An Agent Ex Novel) (32 page)

Yes, she’d disappear so deeply Rock would never find her again. She’d have to if she was going to do the work she planned to do. She couldn’t endanger Rock again, or risk creating another child that could be used against her, not for what she had in mind. No, if things went wrong, she’d be a woman bent on justice and she’d be damned if she’d ever give RIOT anything to use against her.

Further, from now until the mission was over, Lani couldn’t afford the distraction of letting her façade crack again or her motherly and womanly emotions to shine through. Back to being a warrior, back into mission mode. This was the mission of their lives and she wouldn’t allow anything inside her to get in the way of success.

“I love you, too, Lani. More than you can imagine.” Rock brushed her lips with a soft kiss. “I won’t let you down. Promise.”

The tone of his voice said it all. He knew the stakes they were playing for.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The black mailbox, address Rachel, Nevada, sat in the middle of a gravel lot, with two large boulders nearby, possibly placed by locals to be used as seats during any alien-watching sessions. The black mailbox, which was really white, was covered with graffiti and had a small slot next to a picture of a flying saucer for alien mail. Though why a sophisticated alien culture would need to send snail mail remained unexplained, at least to Rock’s way of thinking. That mailbox was a relic of the 1950s.

Hell, even our relatively low-tech, completely backwoods culture compared to theirs, doesn’t use the USPS much.

Usually picturesquely quaint and out of the way, isolated even, the mailbox was now surrounded by kegs of beer, coolers of soft drinks, bags of chips, bonfires, iPods blasting music that would have scared any self-respecting aliens away, live bands, and about a thousand NUFO partiers. Maybe more.

Rock had never seen anything like the spectacle before Ty and him and wasn’t about to start counting the NUFOs now. Rock wondered just how many unbalanced loonies Random had peppered that crowd with. From what he’d heard about RIOT, they didn’t leave anything to chance. The deck, or in this case, the crowd, was always stacked in their favor.

The alien watchers toasted marshmallows and barbecued hot dogs and burgers. They danced to music provided by bands with names like Alien Fusion. They pointed their telescopes to the sky and aimed lasers.

Some wore sophisticated night-vision goggles or wielded night-vision binoculars. A small percentage of the NUFOs dressed in costume. Most wore shorts, T-shirts, or sweatshirts. The NUFO logo was the fashion statement of choice and appeared on a sea of hats, shirts, and sweatshirts. It was so prevalent Rock wondered whether a real alien force would mistake it for the uniform of an attacking audience.

This swarming mass of alien-watching, extraterrestrial-believing, UFO-sighting hopefuls was his audience,
the
audience that would crown Rock’s already stellar career or end his son’s life. The stakes had never been higher.

Tal had coached him to keep his head and perform the mission complete with the reveal, as planned. Rock really had no choice. The rest of the team would carry it out without him.

If Rock could manipulate the NUFOs into believing his illusion, and then marvel in his reveal, he would indeed be the world’s greatest magician. And if NCS hadn’t gotten Stone back, that would seal Stone’s and Nanny’s death warrants.

However crazy these NUFOs may have seemed to some people, their sophistication in watching for alien and UFO sightings should not be underestimated. When Rock had originally imagined Outlandish Marauders, most of the technology the NUFOs now so casually wielded had not been invented.

Then again, neither had the spy plane Emmett had promised. Or the lasers Will had set up. Or the social media networks Britt would use. They were in virgin, unmarked territory now with much more than Rock’s personal reputation on the line.

Rock and the hard place. Nice pun.

Next to Rock, Ty, his CIA bodyguard for this mission, received a text. “They’ve found them,” he said simply.

As Rock’s heart raced out of control, Ty clapped him on the shoulder. “Stone and Nanny are alive. The rescue and sniper teams are in place. Our best sniper, an old friend of mine, is on it. We’ll have Stone back before it’s time for the reveal.”

Rock took a deep breath, trying not to break down. It wasn’t quite time for relief yet. But there was hope.

“Don’t think about it,” Ty said. “Stay focused on the mission and let our agents do their job while you do yours. That’s the best way to help them.”

“Yeah.” Rock nodded as he fought to control the odd, adrenaline-induced cocktail of emotions that coursed through him—anxiety, fear, excitement, expectation. Had Rock thought of everything? What could go wrong?

There were a dozen things, maybe more. There hadn’t been time to perform and refine the trick to Rock’s liking. To work the bugs out. And in Rock’s experience, there were always bugs. Usually too damned many.

The need for secrecy had prevented them from performing Outlandish Marauders in its entirety on set here even once. The setting also was not to Rock’s tastes and wouldn’t have been to his choosing if there’d been a choice of locales. The barren landscape with little brush and no trees added difficulty points to this maneuver. Rock would have preferred a forest with plenty of cover for Ashley, his quick-changing alien, Zach, his video gaming magician, and Jake, his parkour illusionist.

Here in the open, the chance of being caught or found out was magnified.

Somewhere in the audience, Britt, Rock’s social media wizard, wound her way innocuously among the NUFO, mixing with the crowd as she awaited the UFO and her cue to drum up the hysteria and panic he needed to pull this off.

The mailbox was a good two and a half to three hours from the traffic and crowds of Las Vegas. It would take that long for anyone who responded to Britt’s Tweets to reach them. That was all according to both RIOT’s and NCS’s plans. For RIOT, that meant a second wave of mischief and mayhem in case the first wave of NUFO panic didn’t produce the desired result. For NCS that gave them time to do the reveal and head off that second wave. If all went according to plan, the illusion would be long over and the reveal performed before anyone from Vegas could respond.

The mailbox and the party were a good ten miles down a dirt road from the warning signs and camo guys at the Area 51 main gate. To get to Area 51, a person had to cruise down Mailbox Road, past the Crescent Reservoir to Groom Lake Road and from there along the dirt road to the gates.

There was no fence that protected the perimeter of Area 51, just security cameras and camo dudes who appeared out of nowhere to confiscate video and pictures and turn back intruders. And plenty of speculation about all kinds of high-tech security devices, like sniffing machines that could tell the scent of a human from an animal, that may or may not really exist. Sensors that can hear a footstep past the gates.

One thing was real—signs warning that deadly force may be used against trespassers.

Rock had never heard of anyone being shot. There were no records of it. But there were no records of Area 51, either. Officially it didn’t exist. Some even said it was a cover for another, even more top-secret facility. The thought of an innocent person, a panicked, excited person rushing to the rescue of their planet being shot worried Rock, even if it seemed like a remote possibility. At his core, Rock was not a violent man and he didn’t like playing with people’s lives.

He’d had no need to know about the directives Emmett had issued to the camo dudes or the other security forces inside Area 51. So he had no real way of knowing how safe any panicked NUFOs would be if they chose to ignore the warning signs. And what of Edwards Air Force Base? What were their standing orders? What had the CIA told them, if anything? Would a squadron of aircraft suddenly buzz them from the base?

This illusion had so much potential for failure and screwups it blew the mind. What would the president do with the black eye of a few dozen dead NUFOs on his record? How would the press spin Rock’s actions? Would the CIA throw Rock under the alien spaceship, so to speak, and toss him in jail for this “prank”? How would they spin it so that no one else ever dared even imagining trying such a trick again?

Faced with the reality of the illusion, Rock had all kinds of doubts and second thoughts. This scheme seemed crazy, even for him.

Plan to fail half the time.
Who had told him that? The chief? Rock sure as hell hoped this wasn’t the half where he failed.

The weather had cooperated for the NUFO’s annual party and Rock’s illusion. The starry night, far away from the light pollution of the city, seemed to stretch to infinity and beyond to the far reaches of the universe. To that place where the aliens supposedly lived.

There was no wind. None. Good for Rock in that it wouldn’t blow away his smoke screens. Not so great for air-pollution conditions. The occasional howl of a coyote, when it could be heard over a pause in the live music, lent atmosphere.

The stage, the vast canvas of the Nevada desert, was set.

The plan was deceptively simple—fool the crowds with an alien invasion and drive them toward the gates of Area 51. The devil was in the execution.

In just a few minutes, Emmett’s spacecraft would buzz the mailbox. He’d guaranteed something spectacular and convincingly UFO. It would then disappear in the direction of Area 51. Translated into truth, that meant land there. While the plane was in the air above them, Will would work his magic with his lasers, aiming them so that they looked like energy streams coming from the UFO above. To do that, he needed a literal smoke screen to illuminate the laser light.

Ashley and Jake would then “materialize” dressed as aliens on the ground at the end of the light beam. In the meantime, Britt would spot the aliens and get the message to the entire crowd, along with confusing and panicked messages about what was happening. Messages that would encourage the crowd to rally toward Area 51, if they weren’t already so inclined. She’d also spread the word online to the mainstream medias and legions of other alien watchers.

This is where the timing got tricky. Ashley and Jake would bound and fly through the air toward Area 51, encouraging the crowd to follow them. At one point, Jake would disappear and reappear hundreds of yards away as if by … magic.

Actually, it would be Zach who did the reappearing. Then Jake would leapfrog him and repeat the magical feat, leading the crowd to the front gate of Area 51.

At the same time, Ashley would split off in another direction and lead as much of the crowd as she could toward the back entrance of Area 51. RIOT had specified they wanted as much breach capability as possible.

Ashley, though, was supposed to disappear long before the crowd caught up with her. She’d accomplish this by doing one of her quick changes and then hiding out to join the crowd once it caught up with her. From there she’d join Britt in guiding the masses toward Area 51. This is where the lack of cover made the illusion riskier than Rock liked. It was devoid of even a decent-size cactus. This is also where it got so fun that if Stone hadn’t been in danger, Rock would have been barely able to contain himself.

The aerial acrobatics had to look real. Rock was in essence trying to reproduce the effects of flying, as an actor does with a wire on stage. But hang a wire from the sky? Even Rock wasn’t that good. So he’d asked the CIA for a jet pack or two to help him out, even though he hadn’t been optimistic about convincingly camouflaging them. Rock had wanted it to look like the creatures were flying on their own power. A jet pack–powered alien was just too earthly and could be too easily proven to be a fake.

The CIA had done Rock one better and provided him with top-secret developmental hovercrafts—one for Rock and Ty, one for Will, one for Jake, and one for Zach so he and Jake could leapfrog. Ashley had been jealous, but she had a different role to fulfill.

Will would move with Jake and Zach and provide more smoke screens and laser magic to add to the effects.

Even with the hovercrafts, it was risky, dangerous work done without a harness. With his knowledge of video games, Zach had choreographed the effects, which at times required Jake to jump between hovercrafts, which were being controlled remotely by engineers deep within Area 51. Timing, timing, timing.

Rock’s version of extraterrestrials were sexy and scary, not funny-looking, long-necked creatures like ET. So he’d incorporated many of the traditional alien features into a handsome, athletic, warrior alien and his warrior lady companion.

Masking the sound of the hovercrafts moving had been another obstacle, one that had been overcome by issuing Britt a muffler-free dirt bike, which she was immediately supposed to fire up once the alien was spotted. After that, Rock figured any hovercraft noise would be drowned out by the plethora of dirt bikes, motorcycles, and all-terrain vehicles that gave chase.

Rock didn’t like performing stunts without built-in safety features, but he was up against it. The feats had to look real and Jake insisted he could do it. Rock, Zach, Will, and Jake had incorporated as many safety features and procedures as they could.

As soon as the aliens landed, Rock was supposed to jump in the hovercraft with Ty and head for the main gate of Area 51 ahead of the pack. When they arrived, he’d be waiting for them, ready to reveal the illusion and stop the crowd from entering the perimeters. He just hoped he could go through with it.

In the meantime, Lani, Tate, and Tal were stationed inside Area 51 waiting to apprehend Random, and any other RIOT agents, if they made an attempt to infiltrate the area.

Randomly roaming cows were a problem in the surrounding area, especially at night. If you hit a cow, local law stipulated that you had to reimburse the owner. To give everyone more time, a herd of cows was going to be driven between the aliens and the alien watchers. Followed by a bunch of angry ranchers.

Timing, timing, timing. It all came down to timing.