Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) (36 page)

BOOK: Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1)
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(Sen. Marshall) “Madam Chairman, I would request that at
this time, the gallery be cleared and we move into closed session.”

 

(Sen. Stoddard) “No, Senator, I don’t think so. I believe we
have heard quite enough testimony today on this matter. Captain Grey, do you
have a closing statement?”

 

(Capt. Grey) “Madam Chairman, I believe I just made it.”

 

(Sen. Stoddard) “Very well. Captain Grey, Dr. Frederick, Dr.
Lú, Commander Nolan, Ms. Mallory, I do apologize if this hearing was a bit
rougher than you expected, but there are very serious issues in question here.
Thank you all for your testimony. This hearing is adjourned.”

 

CHAPTER 9

 

As Jeff and his group walked
through the Dirksen Building foyer, heading for the car, they were met by
Senator Landers’ executive secretary, Debra Miller. “Could you wait just a
moment? The Senator would like to have a word with you.”

Jeff nodded to her. “Sure.”

Abby turned to Jeff. “Think we’re
in trouble?”

“Beats me.”

After a minute Senate Landers
showed up wearing a broad grin and reached out and shook Jeff’s hand.
“Excellent. Good job.” He glanced around at the rest of Jeff’s team. “Good job,
all of you. Well done.”

Jeff looked at him a bit surprised.
“I thought maybe we laid it on a bit thick at the end there, didn’t make any
friends.”

The senator laughed. “And you’re not going to,
unless you write them very large checks.”

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“Good for you. Jeff, the last thing on Earth some of
those people want to see is for you to succeed. It can’t be allowed. Because if
you are successful, you make Reagan’s point – government isn’t the solution,
it’s the problem. So, rather than face potential embarrassment, they’re gonna
throw up every roadblock they can think of. Better to not do it at all than to
let
you
do it.”

Jeff shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Oh Jesus.
What about you?”

Landers smiled. “I happen to think Reagan was right.
Look, don’t worry about it, just go on about your business. You can’t win your
case in there, don’t waste your time trying. You need to make your case in the
court of public opinion. Do that, and you’ll put their feet to the fire. But
that won’t be easy, because an awful lot of people in this country couldn’t
care less if you go to Mars because they don’t see anything in it for them.
Jeff, figure out how to turn this into a popularity contest, and win it.
That’ll clear the road.”

Jeff nodded. “Gotcha. We’ll work on it. Thank you,
Senator. It’s been quite an experience.”

“No problem. Okay, I’ll be in touch. Hang in there.”

“Yes sir, thank you.”

 

In the limousine on their way back
to Manassas airport Gabe hung her head and groaned, “I am exhausted.”

Susan nodded. “Amen to that.”

“As much as I hate to agree with
these slackers,” Chrissie said, “they have a point. We ever gonna get a break
from this?”

Jeff smiled. “Funny you should ask.
Abby, we all set?”

She nodded. “Ready to go.”

They all glanced back and forth at
one another. “What are you talking about?” Gabe said.

Jeff nodded. “You’re right. We’re
long overdue for a break and Abby and I kind of figured this might be the
tipping point, so we, well, she, planned a little vacation.”

Gabe’s eyes brightened. “Really?
Where?”


España
. We
leave tomorrow evening.”

“Spain?” Gabe gasped.

“Uh huh. So tomorrow pack a bag,
you don’t need much; we can get whatever we need over there. Just remember your
passports, and let’s go relax for a while.”

Chrissie grinned and nodded. “God I
love this job!”

 

 

Wednesday, September
18, 2013 (T minus 916 days)

 

A little past six in the evening,
Jeff, Gabe, Abby, Susan and Chrissie settled into the soft leather First Class
seats of a British Airways 747 and took off from Boston’s Logan Airport. They
changed planes at Heathrow and just before noon the next day landed at Pablo
Ruiz Picasso Airport outside of Malaga, Spain on the Costa del Sol.

As they departed Customs and headed
toward the concourse, Jeff spied a man holding a hand-printed sign that said,
“Nolan.” He nudged Abby with his elbow. “That you?”

“I guess. Probably not a lot of
Nolans around here.” They walked up to the man and Abby pointed to herself.
“Abigail Nolan.”

The man smiled effusively. “Ah,

.
Welcome to Malaga
Señorita
Nolan. I am Juan, your car is
ready. This way please.”

Parked at the curb, and apparently chaperoned by a
uniformed police officer, was a GL-class Mercedes. Juan opened all the doors
and handed Abby the keys. “When you return, you may leave the car here and drop
off the keys at the Executive Service counter, and we will take care of it for
you. Will that be satisfactory?”

Abby nodded. “Thank you. That will
do just fine, Juan.
Gracias
.”


Gracias
, Juan,” said Jeff,
and slipped him a €20 note.


Muchas gracias, Señor
.”

Chrissie automatically started for
the driver’s seat, but Abby stopped her. “I’ll drive.”

Chrissie shrugged. “Um, okay.”

Jeff took the front passenger seat
while Gabe, Susan and Chrissie climbed in back.

Abby pulled away from the curb and
headed west.

Gabe asked, “Where are we going?”

“First we’ll stop in
Marbella
for some lunch,” said Abby. “That’s about a half hour from here. Then we’ll
head up into the mountains to a little place called Gaucin.”

“What’s there?”

“In Gaucin? Not much.”

“Then why are we going there?”

Jeff chuckled. “It’s a surprise.
You’ll see.”

Susan leaned toward Gabe. “When are
you going to learn it’s a waste of time to ask?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just
dopey.”

Abby shook her head. “Right, and
here we have,” waving her hand around the car, “Happy, Grumpy, Doc and Floozy.”

Gabe stared out the window for a
minute then turned back to Abby. “Floozy?”

“Shut up.”

“How do you know so much about this
place?”

“I’ve been here before.”

“Why?”

“Like Jeff said, you’ll see.”

They stopped at
El
Portalón
in
Marbella
for lunch, were seated and
ordered drinks. When a waitress arrived with menus, Jeff said. “
Almuerzo para cinco. Usted elige
.

The waitress smiled. “
Sí Señor
,” and left.

Chrissie glanced at Jeff. “I didn’t
know you spoke Spanish.”

“Some. I took a couple years in
high school, and grew up in southern California where it’s hard not to learn
some Spanish. At best I’m tourist fluent.”

“Well, that sounded pretty good.”

“Thanks.”

Gabe frowned. “What did you say to
her?”

“Lunch for five, she can choose… I
think.”

“We don’t get to look at the menu?”

“Can you read Spanish?”

“No.”

Jeff grinned. “Well?”

“Okay. This should be interesting.”
She frowned. “They don’t eat sheep’s eyes or anything like that here, do they?”

Jeff smiled. “Gabe, this is Spain,
not Yemen. Relax.”

When the food arrived, Chrissie
tentatively took a bite. “Wow! I don’t know what it is, but it’s great,” and
they all dug in.

Jeff looked around the table. “Hmmm. Looks like
lamb, suckling pig, fresh cod, broiled chicken… Gabe, how are you doing?”

Her mouth full, she was unable to
speak, so she just grinned and nodded.

 

#

 

Back in the car, Chrissie said,
“Whew. That was great.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

Abby wound back through town to the
highway then headed west again.

“You seem to know your way around
here rather well,” said Susan.

“Like I said, I’ve spent some time
here.” 20 miles later, Abby turned north on A-377 and followed the winding
highway up into the
Sierra Bermeja
.

After forty minutes of mountain
back roads Chrissie said, “Uh, just out of idle curiosity, Abby, are we lost?”

“No, it’s right up ahead.”

They drove into a small village of sunbaked,
whitewashed buildings.

“Welcome to beautiful downtown
Gaucin,” said Abby.

Susan stared out the window. “Do
they even have a post office here?”

Abby smiled. “I’m not sure they
know what a post office is here, but the food’s great.”

“Well, that’s good to know.”

“Over there on the east side of
town is
Castillo del Aguila
, the Eagle’s Castle.
It’s of medieval origin, but was built on the foundations of a Roman fortress
that probably dates back a couple thousand years.”

Gabe craned to see out the window.
“Can we go see it?”

“Boss?” said Abby.

“Sure, but not today, I’m tired.”

They slowly wound westward through
the hills for another ten minutes then Abby turned off the highway.

“A gravel road?” said Gabe. “Are we
going camping?”

Abby chuckled. “Not exactly.”

A half-mile down the valley Abby
turned again and wound up the hill for a quarter-mile, then stopped at a large
iron gate in a tall adobe arch. She rolled down her window and entered a code.
The gate opened, and she pulled forward and parked in front of a sprawling
Mediterranean-style villa.

Jeff peered out the window. “Wow.”

“Oh my god,” said Gabe. “What is
this place?”

“My folks’ house,” said Abby as she opened her door
and got out. “Grab your gear and come on in.” She unlocked the front door,
turned off the alarm, and led them through the foyer, the mezzanine, the
gallery, and into the salon. It was late afternoon and the sun was low on the
horizon. “Drop your stuff and follow me.” She pushed open the double glass
doors and walked across the terrace to the pavilion, surrounded on two sides by
the swimming pool. “We’ve got a pool, lap pool, Jacuzzi, sauna, stables, wine
cellar, and anything you could possibly want to eat.” She pointed off to the
southwest. “That mountain over there is Gibraltar. To the south is the
Mediterranean and beyond that, Morocco.”

Susan gasped. “Oh my god, it’s
beautiful.”

Abby smiled. “Welcome to
Andalusia.”

Jeff looked around. “Stables?”

“Yeah. You can’t see them from
here, they’re about a hundred yards down the hill.”

“Horses?”

“No, mom and dad are gone too much.
But if you want to ride, there’s a ranch about half a mile from here down at
the bottom of the hill that has horses and they’d be happy to saddle one up for
you. And there’s lots of country up in these hills to ride in.”

Chrissie stood staring across the
Mediterranean, her mouth hanging open. “You said your parents lived in Spain
but, wow, I had no idea.”

“They like it.”

“They’re not here?” said Gabe.

“No, they’re in California for a
few weeks.”

Jeff pointed to a small building on
the other side of the pool. “What’s that?”

“That’s where you’ll usually find
me.”

“Huh?”

“The bar.”

“Oh, mercy.”

Abby laughed. “Come on, I’ll show you around. This
is the pavilion.” She led them back across the terrace toward the main house.
“There’s a shower and bathroom on the left side of the bar there and, at the
back of the terrace here, a glass-covered outdoor dining area. Inside, this is the
salon. There’s a bedroom and bath over on the left, that’s mine. Up here is the
dining room. Through that door is the kitchen and over there, the den. Upstairs
here are two more bedrooms with baths. Uh, one disadvantage to this place is
that it doesn’t have quite as many bedrooms as Wrentham House, so two of you
will have to bunk together, but the back bedroom here is quite large and has
two double beds. You can sort out the sleeping arrangements.”

Susan turned to Chrissie. “Shall we
double up?”

Chrissie nodded. “Fine with me. I’d
be happy with the sofa.”

Abby grinned. “That won’t be
necessary.”

Gabe peaked back into the rear
bedroom. “I guess I’ll take this one. Nice.”

“There’s another terrace in back
that both these rooms open onto,” Abby said.

“Where’s Jeff’s room?” Gabe asked.

“He gets Mom and Dad’s room,
upstairs on the other side of the entry. It’s huge. Funny thing is, there’s a
dressing room below the master bedroom that’s nearly as big. I don’t know who
designed this place, but they must have been a real clothes hog. Come here,
you’re gonna love this.”

Abby led them back downstairs,
across the salon, back into the gallery, and across through a set of double
glass doors.

Jeff froze at the doors. “You’re
joking? An indoor pool as well?”

“Yep. This is the lap pool. On the
other end is the Jacuzzi, and behind it is the sauna. Oh, and there’s another
bathroom right here.”

Gabe shook her head. “I’ve never
been in a sauna. And I’ve never ridden a horse.”

Abby glanced at her. “Well, this
should be entertaining.”

“Alright,” Jeff said, “We didn’t
think everyone would be much in the mood for cooking tonight, so there’s a very
nice resort hotel with a fine restaurant about a mile up the road, and we made
reservations. So, why don’t y’all stow your gear and freshen up, and then we’ll
go get some supper.”

 

#

 

Over dinner on the terrace at Hotel
Hacienda La Herriza, Gabe asked, “What are these mountains called?”

“This is the southern end of the
Ronda Mountains, the western part of the
Sierra Bermeja
range
,”
said Abby
.

“Why are they called the Ronda
Mountains?”

“There’s a town called Ronda about
an hour’s drive northeast of here. It was originally settled by the Celts,
followed by the Romans and the Moors. It has the oldest bullfighting ring in
Spain that’s still in use. And nearby there’s a little place called Acinipo
that has a Roman amphitheater built around 45 B.C. that’s also still in use
today.”

“45 B.C.?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can we go there?”

“Sure. I didn’t know you were an
ancient history buff.”

“I’m not really, I’ve just never
seen anything that old.”

Jeff held up his glass. “This wine
is fantastic.”

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