Mac drove south, toward Denver, as fast as he dared. His plan was to use the public Wi-fi at the airport to make a quick call to his Uncle Paul to see what was up. He chose DIA because he figured it would provide some obfuscation about where he had been and where he might be going. He knew this was only a "head fake" since there would be video of the parking areas and the concourse that could eventually be reviewed. But given the circumstance, it would have to do. During the nearly six hour drive he had too much time to speculate about what triggered his Uncle's high-priority alert. He was certain his time in the Black Hills hadn't aroused suspicion, or maybe it had. Either way, he was anxious to speak with his Uncle Paul.
He stopped once for gas and coffee and before long was pulling into a spot in a remote parking lot along airport road. Minutes later he was on a shuttle headed for the main airport entrance along with a couple other riders. Once inside, he wasted no time finding an empty table in a food court and opened his laptop. He noted the strong Wi-fi signal and logged on as a guest user then connected to a VPN server in Europe out of habit. Mac had been away long enough that he wanted to check his email, but that would have to wait. He opened a communication program, an encrypted VoIP phone application that he knew for certain wasn't nearly as "private" as the marketing hype for it suggested, and made the call. Aunt Stella answered on the third ring and after a brief exchange, handed the phone to her husband.
Paul wasted no time explaining the mystery of the cat's transportation while reassuring Mac that nothing else unusual had happened and all the while apologizing profusely for contacting him if this ended up being some random anomaly. Mac breathed a sigh of relief the moment he heard the details. He had no doubt this was the work of his other uncle, the Senator. Relaxing a bit in the certainty there was no actual danger for his aunt and uncle, he was no less perturbed the incident happened at all.
"I'm sorry Uncle Paul, it seems your brother is trying to get in touch with me about something, he can be such a pest like that. I'm just glad our ham radio messaging system worked so well!"
The two chatted a few more minutes, made some future plans, and hung up. Mac then called his Uncle Fielding's office in Washington. It took three minutes to be connected with the Senator who tried to act bemused by his nephew's angry accusation.
"Cut the crap, you scared Stella and Paul and owe them an apology" Mac said tersely.
"Fine, I'll invite them to my re-election celebration next year. You left me no choice. I had no way to contact you and had I just waltzed into Paul's house demanding to speak with you he would have clammed up. This worked, and the only one really inconvenienced was the cat, get over it" he said smugly.
"What is it you want?" Mac asked with a tone of exasperation.
"You ran out of here without telling anyone where you were going or what you were doing. And you've been on the run long enough I became concerned you might be getting yourself into some trouble and needed help. I'm just trying to look out for you for your parent's sake, why are you making this so difficult? Where are you and what are you doing? Tell me you're not on an assignment for that Mawbey fellow again, that guy is nothing but trouble" he complained.
Basil Mawbey was the billionaire owner of Borealis Media Group, one of the largest news and media organizations on the planet. The Group published a hundred monthly magazines, produced dozens of television programs, and owned the 24-hour cable Borealis News Network. And Mac had indeed done some work for him, and considered him a friend, a fact that chafed at his Uncle since Mawbey was aligned with the "other" political party and his deep pockets frequently bankrolled the Senator's opponents. This wasn't a secret from his Uncle who had become aware of Mac's connection to Borealis through his many DC connections. But Mac's deal with Mawbey was always as a freelancer, his name never used or cited. He understood how this connection could be problematic for his uncle and great pains were taken to avoid any such problems.
Twenty-one minutes after walking into the airport Mac was climbing back in an airport shuttle to the remote parking lot. He paid fourteen dollars, cash, as he exited the lot and turned onto Pena Boulevard and followed the signs to the Interstate. His conversation with his uncle had him reconsidering his original plans. His uncle knew he was on some clandestine project being underwritten by Basil Mawbey. And Mac was certain this wasn't based on mere speculation. He had obviously caught wind of something a lot more specific than a wild guess. Mac wasn't certain how that was possible, but his uncle was a powerful man, well-connected, and he sat at the heart of the US intelligence community.
He wouldn't be surprised if his uncle wasn't already two-steps ahead of him and he needed to do something to gain an edge. It only took a moment for him to make the decision to move up the timetable. He wasn't headed back to the Black Mountains. At least not yet. He would first visit the original source that put him on this mystery. And that would require a much longer drive, and a trip across the border. He pulled into the next road side rest area and retrieved a map from the glove box. It would require sixteen hours on the road, if there were no delays. But his mind was made up. He was headed to Winnipeg to visit a VE4 who he spoke with via radio more than a month ago.
Getting more comfortable in his seat, his mind ran through multiple iterations and scenarios for his next steps. Had there been another passenger in his vehicle they would have noticed a smile that moved across his lips as Mac realized every one of his "missions", including this one, was the result of something gleaned during a late night radio chat session.