PART THREE: THE HEADWALL*

"I spoke with Colonel Hicks, son."

"And?" John prompts, folding his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the side of his father's desk in the office.

"And he assures me that only the standard signals are pinging the ionosphere."

"Dad, there's evidence to suggest that's not all that's going on at HAARP. Even Brains has had a look and agrees with my theory."

"I trust Jonathan Hicks. He's a lifelong pigeon who came up a year after me. Nothing's more important to him than his God, his country and the Air Force. If there was something this big going on, Jon would know about it. Better yet, he wouldn't have let it happen to begin with."

"You seem pretty sure."

"I am. We got three months' worth of KP and latrine duty for the entire barracks for flathatting during maneuvers. You get to know a guy real well when you're forced to spend that much time with him."

John snickers.

"What's so funny?"

"The idea of you doing anything not by the book. Low-flying stunts, Dad?"

Jeff chuckles. "Your old man didn't always follow the rules, John."

Growing serious again, John scrubs at the one-day stubble on his chin. "Could there be something secret happening around Gakona that Colonel Hicks wouldn't know about? Any way to get things by him?"

"I doubt it. He's in charge, he's a man who's on top of things." Jeff considers his middle son for a moment. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Dad, when both Brains and Dev, who's been a research scientist with HAARP for four years now, agree with my findings, I don't see how I can be anything but serious. You can't tell me you haven't noticed the increase in seemingly 'natural' disasters. The intensity of earthquakes, of storms. International Rescue's going out a lot more often, and there's a pattern to the danger zones."

Jeff leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers. "Tell you what. I'll make a few discreet inquiries backchannel."

"And you won't tell Hicks."

"I won't tell Hicks. But John, keep quiet about this for now. You can't go making accusations against one of the military's pet projects, not to mention the University of Alaska and DARPA**, without something more than theories based on rescue locations—"

"For a secret organization, I know, I know," John interrupts, hands up in front of his chest to stop his dad from launching into a full-blown lecture. "Listen, that leave I requested? Talking with Dev, well, he's got some time coming, and we thought we might get together. I haven't seen him in person since he went to Alaska."

"How many days is a few?"

John keeps his voice nice and steady. "A week." He knows it could be more. That professionals usually take a week just to get up Denali, never mind down. But he thinks asking for two whole weeks might not sit well, so he's playing it by ear.

"A week, huh? Well, everyone gets a month each year, so why not? Just keep your ears open in case Scott needs to call you back."

"Will do, Dad."

"Take care, son. Say hi to Dev for me."

John nods and heads for his room to finish packing. He didn't lie to Jeff. He just didn't tell him the entire truth. Nothing wrong with that.

Nothing at all.

*Headwall: The upper section of a mountain where the terrain is set off from that below by being more steep.

**DARPA: Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency