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Stegmeyer interjected, saying, “It all sounds convincing, but you’ve got to have more than some fishy power readings to go on.”

Lachlan cleared his throat, saying, “That dome is over two hundred feet high. It’s within a few hundred yards of the river, but it’s part of a separate annex inside the complex. We’ve been watching the area for months. See that nearby parking lot? The cars there never move. They’re window dressing, just props. All the deliveries go to the administration buildings at the front, or the main reactors inland. No deliveries to the dome, and no external traffic. At least, none that we can see. There must be personnel moving around, but they’re doing so via internal walkways.”

“I don’t buy it,” Bellum said. “We need more to go on than a hunch. What are you proposing we do? Storm the place? What if the UFO isn’t there? We’ll have played our hand.”

“Everything we’ve observed,” Lachlan countered, “has revolved around Seattle, but even that seems to be a feint. Intercepted communiques, travel itineraries, credit card records. And it’s not just that Seattle is a hub for the Northwest, we think it’s more than that. They’ve got to have this thing nearby, and North Bend is the perfect location.”

“Why not New York?” Bellum countered.

“It would be too difficult to get the craft into the Atlantic,” Lachlan said.

“What about LA?” Stegmeyer asked.

“Too obvious. Too many people coming and going,” Lachlan replied. “No, they need to keep this some place sleepy, some place no one would suspect. Don’t forget, this thing has been causing international tension for decades. Oregon provides DARPA perfect cover: no one would take rumors from there seriously.”

“No one but you,” Stegmeyer replied.

Lachlan laughed.

The RV swerved suddenly, causing Lily to crash into Jason. Lachlan braced himself against the ceiling. Stegmeyer fought not to fall out of her chair.

“Shit!” came the cry from the driver.

The RV lurched, riding up over something on the road. The sound of breaking branches and wooden logs slamming beneath the chassis caused Jason to grimace, anticipating a sudden impact. The RV braked, sliding slightly, but the driver kept the bulky vehicle under control.

“What the hell happened?” Lachlan exclaimed as the driver pulled over to the side of the road. In the panicked confusion of those few seconds, Lachlan had dropped his folder, scattering photographs across the floor of the RV.

“There were fallen tree branches all over the road,” the driver replied. “I think we may have lost a tire.”

As he heard those words, Jason recognized the familiar thump of a lazy, flat tire. The RV leaned slightly to one side as the driver pulled onto the shoulder of the road.

“Stay here,” Bellum said, pulling out a revolver and stepping down into the footwell of the RV.

“Could it be a trap?” Lachlan asked.

“Not likely,” the driver said. “I doubt they’ve traced our movements yet. They won’t have picked up our trail.”

Bellum, Lachlan and Stegmeyer got out of the RV. Only Stegmeyer had the foresight to don a jacket against the rain. The other two seemed oblivious to the weather. Jason could see them standing outside, talking. Bellum moved out of sight. A few seconds later, Jason saw him moving through the trees, barely visible at the edge of the headlights as he crept in front of the RV.

“He’s moving into a covering position,” Lily said as though that was somehow supposed to make Jason feel better.

A few minutes passed, a cold draft coming in from the open door.

Spitting rain peppered the cabin, swirling in through the opening.

Jason looked at the photos lying scattered on the floor and thought he should pick them up before they got water damaged. He got to his feet. Lily seemed content to watch, which was nice. If she’d jumped up beside him he would have felt like a prisoner under her watch.

As he stepped out from between the chairs, Jason glanced at the photos.

Several of the pictures had fallen overlapping each other. Most of the photos were of scientific calculations, similar to those he loved to sketch on his notepads, only these formulas looked like they’d been carved into the hide of some dark animal. There were fine scratches crisscrossing a black hide with rough calculations carved into what looked like leather.

Jason started to pick one of the images up when he realized they had fallen in such away as to spell out a word. Each of the overlapping images formed part of a single word, a word that would only be visible if they fell in this exact manner.