Chapter 3

I slowly opened my eyes.

This morning was like the others that I had experienced since I had been here. I wasn't even sure if it was morning. There was no way to know in the room I was in - there were no windows or any source of natural light.

For someone like me, who loves the outdoors, this was a special kind of torture.

I remembered sitting in Mr. Clark's fourth grade class at Westmore Elementary in Orem, Utah. I don't remember much about the lessons he taught, but I do remember staring constantly out the windows at the majestic Wasatch Range. Cascade Mountain was immediately out the window, but just to the north was Timpanogos, perhaps the most impressive mountain I'd ever seen. The elevation changed some seven thousand feet in the course of 10 miles, creating an enclosed space that some found oppressive but I found comforting. I learned later that these valleys - the Davis, Salt Lake, and Utah valleys - were known as the smoky valleys by the native populations because of their wintertime propensity for trapping in any kind of pollutant. These temperature inversions also meant that there was warmer air to be found above the layer of haze, and I found amazing vistas above a layer of cloud that seemed almost thick enough to walk on.

While growing up, these temperature inversions caused some pretty bad air days, and occasionally we would not be allowed to go outside to play at recess. There would be reports of bad air accompanied by requests to limit outside physical exertion and unnecessary driving. All of this is what propelled me into the desire to study the environment and the impact humans had on it. I was surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery on earth, yet there were times when people were encouraged to not go out and enjoy it because of pollution and other natural environmental systems. It seemed incongruous to me then, and it still seemed that way.

I rolled over, careful not to disturb my children who were sleeping beside me. We had been held in this room since we were brought to this place, with occasional trips out to use the restroom and shower. We were under constant guard, but the guards were respectful and even kind. In the three days I imagined we'd been there - based on the natural circadian rhythms my body still responded to - no one had spoken to us other than to give us occasional instructions that were terse and devoid of any emotion. These people were not upset, just professionals doing their job.

I reviewed for the umpteenth time what had happened to us at the base of the cliff. Almost as soon as I finished the shelter, I heard the distinctive note of a helicopter's blades beating the air. I watched as the large machine grew against the horizon. I was amazed when the helicopter circled the area once and then settled down near the wreck. This was a very large helicopter, capable of holding twenty or so men and their equipment. All of this was clear to me when the doors open and the men got out and started to assess the situation. They were dressed in the same bright yellow gear that the duffel bag I had removed from the trunk was made of. They looked like they were all either in the military or had been trained by the military. It was in the way they moved, the way they obeyed instructions without hesitation or question, the way they carried themselves. But most of all, it was in the eyes - a coldness that spoke of deadly intent and seriousness. These were clearly not men to be trifled with.

I was not concerned, though, as they set to work carefully extracting Rick. They cut the door off using the hydraulic cutters that fire trucks are equipped with. How they thought to bring them I will never know, but it struck me as odd that they would happen to have these highly specialized tools available.

Once the door was off, Rick slowly got out of the vehicle, largely under his own power. Once out, he and the guy who looked to be in charge embraced and conversed in that strange language. The men's eyes welled with tears as Rick turned slowly back to the wreck. I guessed that they were talking about Rick's wife.

The rest of the helicopter team lifted the wreck off the broken body of Rick's wife. By this time there could be no doubt - she had expired. The team used the sheer force of their bodies to lift the wreck from where it had settled, trusting no mechanism to preserve the sacred nature of the task. I was surprised to see that this brute force action was done with precision and even tenderness. As soon as her body became free, four men rushed in and, with tears running freely down their cheeks, removed it from the wreck. The remaining men slowly lowered the wreck back to the ground - a truly Herculean task - and formed a kind of honor guard escorting the poor woman's remains back to the helicopter. The four who had lifted her body from the wreck jumped back in the helicopter, which took off and angled off to the west.

I was standing in the shade of the structure I had built to cover the wreck. I felt largely ignored until that exact moment. One of the yellow-garbed men approached me and in perfect English without a trace of accent asked if they could remove the shelter. I assured them that it was all right with me. But I wondered why they would do that - the helicopter was gone, and there was no other place for us to get any kind of shade. He remarked on the quality of the construction and then set off to take it down.

Needless to say, I was quite bemused by all of this.

My thoughts turned to my children at the top of the slope... I had only been gone about 30 minutes, but it seemed at once like an eternity, and then again it seemed like just a second or two. I set off in the direction of the rope to ascend the slope again.

I heard Rick say something to the commander. The commander turned and vectored off to intercept me on my way up the slope. I had just grabbed the rope when he asked - again, in flawless English, which didn't fit well with the foreignness of the language I'd heard him just speak - where I was headed.

"I left my kids up at the top of the slope," I said, indicating my SUV at the top of the slope. "They've been up there alone for some time, and I'm concerned about them."

The commander turned and barked something at the men working around the wreck. Three men stopped what they were doing and sprinted up the slope as easy as if they were gazelles. In no time they were guiding my children gently down the slope, pointing to me and seeming to indicate that this is what I wanted.

It was not.

I began to be alarmed at this point. I had no idea what these men's intentions were, but it did not seem good.

I turned to look back at Rick. His face was hard and unreadable, observing the work that the men were accomplishing. When my eyes followed his gaze, my mouth gaped.

The men were digging a hole. It was about twenty five feet long and six feet deep. It was immediately adjacent to the wreck, and once the commander was satisfied with the dimensions of the hole, the men exited the hole and resumed positions around the wreck, as they had when they lifted it off Rick's wife. Rick hurried over and removed the remaining items from the trunk - those boxes that reminded me of expensive camera cases - and the men began lifting the car from one side. The sand slid a little below them as they turned the car on its side. Then with a seemingly very gentle push, they toppled the wreck into the hole. It was perfectly sized for the car. The men then began to fill in the hole with the loose, sandy soil. Soon they had eradicated any sign that there had been a wreck there, with some going over the area and picking up any glass or debris that had remained on the site. All of the detritus was deposited into the hole. A slight mound was all that remained once the work was complete. They had even transplanted some sagebrush and cheat grass over the mound, giving it a surreal feeling of having been there awhile.

Which is exactly what there intention is, I remembered thinking at the time. They don't want anyone knowing what happened here. I looked up the slope and noticed that there were men working on the slope as well, removing additional debris and carefully erasing the gouges left in the sandstone using some kind of water-based chemical I was not familiar with. It was amazing to see, though - the sandstone absorbed the liquid and then just disappeared.

"How?" I turned to ask the commander. But he had left my side and was speaking into a satellite phone. I saw him glance up at my SUV at the top of the hill. The third member of the three who had gone up the slope was now coming down with what appeared to be the kids' packs as well as mine. He'd even brought their electronic devices.

As the kids gingerly picked their way down the slope, I was heartened to see that they were not alarmed at all. Certainly they were not filled with the dread that was beginning to creep into my heart. Particularly when I noticed the last man at the top of the slope stop and untie the rope from the back of the SUV. He coiled it carefully as he made his way down the slope.

Now I turned and approached Rick. "What are your intentions?" I demanded. "What are you doing? Why are they bringing my kids down here?"

"Please calm yourself," said Rick. "You have nothing to be concerned about. I cannot forget the kindness you've shown me - you could have just as easily kept driving down the road, yet you stopped and put yourself at risk to help me. But the situation is more complicated than you can imagine, so please just be patient. I will explain it all to you soon."

He turned away, but then paused. "At least, I will explain everything you need to know."

Soon after that the helicopter had returned from out of the west, presumably to wherever the helicopter had come from initially, as well as where it had taken the body of Rick's wife. I was loaded up with my children - still thankfully unaware that anything very unusual was going on, thinking this was just a continuation of the great adventure we'd been having - and Rick got in as well. Before taking off, my eyes had been blindfolded, as well as the eyes of my children. Mine first, I was told, so that the children would be willing to accept the blindfold as well. I tried to stay light hearted, making it into a kind of game. Rick caught on to what I was trying to do, and he asked to be blindfolded as well.

We flew for about an hour, I guess. I assume it was west, since that's where the helicopter had gone before. I also felt the sun on my face from the window I was sitting next to, and its position did not change as we flew until right near the very end of the trip. The helicopter landed softly, and we were lead from what sounded like a large open space into a corridor, and finally into this room.

I had tried in vain to deduce how to escape. Three days with nothing to do... The kids had their games to occupy them, but their questions soon began - where are we? Why doesn't anyone talk to us? When are we going home? And the worst - I miss mommy!

I did, too.

The walls of this room seemed to be made of solid rock. It was glazed and polished to a mirror finish. I could not tell exactly what kind of machine could make this kind of finish on stone, particularly because the stone seemed seamless and faultless. It was rust colored, which reminded me of something I could not put my finger on, something familiar about the color. Further, the room was almost perfectly spherical. Except for the floor and the door, there were no corners or straight lines anywhere. The light was set high in the apex of the sphere, and the highly polished stone reflected it very well back into the room.

Where are we? I wondered, glancing again at my sleeping children's peaceful bodies. They were not afraid - they had their dad with them, and dad could make anything all right.

I had never felt more despondent or hopeless in my life. All of the myriad escape plots I could imagine evaporated when I thought of my children. I might be able to escape if it were just me, or at least I might be more risky. But I cannot put my children in danger. And they would be if I tried anything. The look on the guard's eyes was enough to convince me of that.

What have I gotten myself into?