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pictures of you dressed like this with a guy’s tongue down your throat and his hands on your ass, that you could be compromised?”
“Who the hell would do that?”
“Let me see some ID.” He barked, “Now!” when she seemed to hesitate.
She produced her driver’s license.
“Anne Shepard?”
“Yes.”
“Confirm for me your employer’s name. Unless you’re too drunk.”
He shot a hand out and steadied her as she rocked back and forth on her stilettos. Her lip trembling, she said, “Atalanta Group.”
“That’s right,” said Puller, who up to that point had never heard of Atalanta Group. “And are you aware that your being here places you in a position to be blackmailed by enemies of this country?”
“But I’m just here having fun. I work twelve-hour days, pretty much every day. I’m just here to blow off some steam.”
“There are smart ways to do that. This is not one of them. The guy with his tongue down your throat?”
“He’s just some guy.”
“That some guy will be arrested when he leaves here. He’s an American-born spy in the employ of the Chinese looking to steal DoD secrets.”
“Oh shit! That guy! You’re kidding, right? He just wanted sex, like all guys.”
“What did you tell him? Did he ask about work?”
“No, I mean—” She stopped, flustered. “I mean, he asked what I did.”
“And what did you tell him?”
Shepard started to breathe heavily. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“The restroom is down that hall. I’ll be here when you come out.”
It didn’t make Puller feel good that he was doing this to the young woman, although there were strict rules about what such folks should and should not do in their off hours. And this bar, filled with military and presumably private contractors, actually would be a great place for a spy to operate. He told himself he was teaching her a tough lesson.
He pulled out his phone, did a search on Atalanta Group, and came up with exactly nothing. How was that possible? Every company these days had an online identity.
He didn’t even know if Atalanta Group was in business in the 1980s. Or ran the project that was currently being conducted in Building Q. This could all be a wild-goose chase, but somehow Puller didn’t think so.
Vincent DiRenzo, the former CID agent, had talked about gut feelings being part of any investigation. Well, Puller’s gut was burning right now. He was getting warm. He just needed to keep going.
When Shepard came out a few minutes later, she looked green.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” said Puller.
Chapter
44
PULLER LED ANNE Shepard outside where there were still people in line waiting to get in. He waved to Rogers as he passed by, and the latter waved back.
“Thanks again,” said Rogers.
“No problem.”
Puller escorted Shepard to his car and they climbed in. “Am I really in trouble?” she said.
“That depends,” said Puller. “We’ve actually been watching Atalanta Group for a while now.”
“Why?”
“Irregularities.”
“What kind of irregularities?”
“How long have you worked there?”
“Four years.”
“Well, Building Q has been operational since at least the 1980s.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“How is the work coming?”
“Are you read in for this?”
“Shepard, I wouldn’t be here talking to you if I weren’t.”
Her face fell. “Okay. Well, we’ve made big strides.”
“Any issues?”
“Not really.”
“Management treating you okay?”
“Mr. Quentin is supportive and he gets whatever we need.”
“Quentin?”
“Josh Quentin. He runs the program. He may own the company for all I know. I’m not at a level that needs to know that.” She looked across the seat at Puller. “Just so you know, he was at the bar tonight too. He goes there a lot. It’s how I found out about it.”
“What does he look like?”
“Tall, young, handsome. The ladies really go gaga over him. You might have seen him going up the stairs to the second-floor room.”
“I did. What goes on up there?”
“I’ve never been up there. Only Mr. Quentin and his group are allowed up there.”
“Are the people coworkers?”
She laughed. “Did those women look like science nerds to you?”
“So what are they, hookers?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it. Josh is young and rich. He can get women without having to pay for them.”
“Okay.”
“Were you referring to Mr. Quentin when you mentioned ‘irregularities’?”
“Why?” When she didn’t answer immediately he added, “Shepard, if you have something to say, say it. The Army does not pay me to waste time.”
“It’s just that Mr. Quentin doesn’t seem to have much of a science background. I mean, when he comes around to check on things the questions he asks are pretty basic. I would have expected him to know more, that’s all.”
“Maybe he’s just a business guy.”
“But every project I’ve ever worked on the leadership are serious scientists in their own right.”
“So maybe this project is different.”
“Maybe it is.”
“What part of the project do you work on?”
“Are you really read in for this?” she asked nervously. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”
“You’re already in trouble. And I’m trying to save your ass.”
“Okay, okay. I’m just freaked out.” She took a deep breath. “I work on the exos and liquid armor programs.”
“Exos?”
“Exoskeleton hardware. Lightweight systems worn on the outside of the soldier’s body, powered by lithium batteries. It increases their strength multifold. And we’re working on a concept that would increase that multiple dramatically. A lot of this research was done by DoD starting in the 1960s, but the science and materials weren’t there yet. The exoskeleton suits back then reacted unpredictably. I heard some people were even hurt.”
