She sipped coffee from an absurdly elegant cup and saucer—legacy ware from the Kennedy administration. “Well, Bill here took the meeting with them—if that’s what you could call it—and I just about had him and the other two certified when I read his report.”

The NSA guy remained expressionless. “I read it. We’ve known since ’98 that the BTC had perfected holographic projection at molecular scales. We think it’s done with phased array optics and plasma emission. But no one really knows.”

McAllen raised his eyebrows. “It looked damned real to us.”

The CIA guy grimaced. “That’s a toy compared to what else they have.”

Monahan scowled. “There needs to be some accountability. We need to review what technology they’re sitting on that could provide the United States with a technological edge. China’s nipping at our heels.”

“The BTC might argue that what they’re doing is keeping the tech out of China’s hands.”

“There is a technology transfer problem in the private sector.”

She put the cup and saucer down. “Well, pardon me, Mike, but I like a bit less authoritarianism in my democracy. The BTC wasn’t put in charge of policing the world.”

“Who’s to stop them?”

“They might have advanced technology, but if we bring CIA, DOD, NSA, and DHS together—focus our collective efforts—we should be able to bring them to heel.”

The NSA and CIA guys exchanged looks.

“Good luck with that.”

The NSA guy shook his head. “You’re forgetting that they provide a good deal of valuable intelligence to the three-letter crowd. Rumor is that they’ve made some serious advances in quantum computing and communications. Maybe even human-level AIs.”

“This is ridiculous.”

CIA spoke grimly. “You’re not going to sneak up on them. They’ve compromised ECHELON, SWICS—just about everything. They’re in your network, too. Count on it. They’re reading your emails, Kaye.”

The NSA man shrugged. “They seem to be able to break any code. That’s probably why they always seem to know about what’s going on and where. We need to keep them on our side.”

“How would you even know if they are? I’ve heard that the BTC has splintered into overseas factions now.”

“Look, you’re stirring up a shit storm.”

Monahan frowned. “We need to find where they moved their operations, and we need to act.”

The NSA guy just stared. “Knowing their base of operations isn’t going to help you.”

“Of course it is. We could start monitoring their activities, just like they monitor ours. We could set up an air gap network they don’t know about. Another SAP.”

“This is how it starts . . .”

The NSA man sighed. “Knowing where they are didn’t help us.”

“You know where they’re headquartered?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you: Their headquarters is in the middle of downtown Detroit. A forty-story building from the ’60s that’s so bland you barely see it.”

“In Detroit?”

“You wanna hide the world’s most advanced technology center where no one will find it—where else do you put it? But let me save you some headaches: They don’t communicate in the electromagnetic spectrum, or fiber, or any other technology known to us. We’ve had receivers focused on that building for decades. Nothing. So we tried to cut in. Did seismic work and found that their building goes sixty stories underground—that we know of.”

“Sixty stories?”

“That’s not all. Our whole team disappeared right after we scanned it. That same day the spy satellite we were focusing on them went AWOL. And then all the data we had on them disappeared from our network, too. Replaced by photos of our children asleep in bed—taken from inside our homes.”

“We need to figure out some way to rein them in.”

“Risky. You won’t find it in any reports, but this has been tried before. Talk to some retired directors. When it comes to the BTC, you’re not just playing with fire; you’re playing with plutonium, Kaye.”

The CIA guy nodded. “Our science people estimate they have a fifty- to sixty-year technological edge. And it’s accelerating. But hey, look at the bright side: They’ve been smoothing out the bumps for more than fifty years now. And it doesn’t look like they’ll allow a nuclear war to take place—and don’t even ask why I know that because I can’t tell you. Suffice it to say that they’re keeping an eye on the long-term picture—do you want that job? Because I know I don’t. I’ve got my hands full just putting out fires.”

“No one should have so much power.”

“They already know what you’re up to.” He pointed at McAllen. “You sent Bill up there, and they gave you their answer.”

At that they all turned to McAllen.

Monahan drummed her fingers on the table. “Well, Bill, you’re the only one who’s seen this Graham Hedrick person. What’s your read on him?”

McAllen stroked his chin. “I wouldn’t say I saw him, but I saw an image of him.”

“All right then, what’s your read on that?”

“He was full of himself. Didn’t seem the least bit concerned about what we did or did not do.”

“What do you think will happen if we let them be?”

McAllen took a deep breath. “I think their technological lead will grow, and they’ll be in a position to dictate the course of human events for generations to come. And I think that’s not okay. Not okay at all.”

CHAPTER 18

Rendezvous

The Twins gave Davis thecreeps. That’s what she’d taken to calling the nearly identical tall, blond, muscle-bound men with thick necks who supervised her on the special task force. They were, in fact, the only members of the task force she’d seen thus far. One was named Todd, the other Jason. In their mid- to late twenties, they nonetheless wielded authority as if they’d been born to it. As if those around them were truly their inferiors—like some FBI version of the Winklevoss twins. And she had never heard of twins working together in the FBI. These guys were clearly jacked in with Washington because they seemed to operate without having to clear things with anyone. Neither did they have budgetary problems. And they’d requisitioned her from the middle of preparations for a major public trial without so much as a peep from her bosses.

She and the Twins were sitting in a suite of windowless offices in Columbia University’s International Affairs Building at the corner of Amsterdam and 118th Street—a ten-story concrete building that seemed to have been modeled on a steam radiator. It was located on the far side of the Morningside campus from where she was supposed to meet Grady. They’d kept a very low profile for the past two days.

As Davis sat, bored, the Twins both talked on cell phones with unseen elements of the task force, finalizing details. Apparently they had people out there somewhere who were ready to back her up on a moment’s notice. Still, the asymmetry in information was alarming. They hadn’t told her a goddamn thing since she’d arrived.

One of the Twins hung up. She could never tell them apart. Even when they reclarified their names, it quickly devolved into a game of “two-card monte” the moment they moved. She cleared her throat and looked at her watch. “So it’s seven thirty now. It’ll take me fifteen minutes to walk there; I need to be briefed.”

Todd—or Jason—looked confused but then nodded. “Right. Agent Davis, we really just need you to go to the meet. You know the route to the Mathematics Library. You’ve seen the floor plan, and you’ve seen the photographs of the table you’re to sit at.”

“Yes, but I was told he was a dangerous suspect.”

Todd nodded. “Okay.” He shrugged. “Then be careful.”

“I don’t know where my backup is. We haven’t gone over radio protocols, emergency signals—”