The Shimmer by David Morrell

Her shirt had ample pockets as well.
    "Grab a camera and take one of the vans," the producer responded.
    "Start for Rostov right away. This time of night, you can probably reach there in two and a half hours."
    "Less," Anita said confidently.
    "Whatever--I don't care how many speeding tickets you get. Just don't crash the van. By the time Brent's done getting overhead shots of the crime scene and providing commentary, you'll need to be close to the area."
    "Wait," Brent said, "you want me to operate the chopper's camera, too?"
    The producer ignored him and kept talking to Anita.
    "There's a good possibility the bodies won't have been removed yet.
    After the chopper sets Brent down, you and he will start interviewing the police and any witnesses you can find. Brent, I told you to get moving. If we cover this from enough angles, maybe CNN won't bother sending their people. Maybe they'll pay to have Sharon supply live updates. Our competition won't stand a chance in the ratings."

    Chapter 22.
    The eerie music drifted and dipped, hovered and sailed. Coming from instruments Halloway still couldn't identify, the languid, sensuous melody settled into a lower register. He imagined that he was slow dancing with the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. He smelled cinnamon in her hair and tasted orange juice and vodka.
    By now there were seven people in the room: Halloway and his partner, Taggard, another pair of guards who'd kept leaving the surveillance room to listen to the music, and the researcher--Gordon-who'd been joined by two others.
    Transported by the sounds, no one spoke. Halloway imagined the woman he danced with pressing against him. She breathed softly into his ear.
    Abruptly the music became silent. The woman disappeared.
    "Hey, what happened?" Halloway demanded.
    Static came from the speakers: harsh, crackly, loud, and aggravating.
    "Gordon, what did you do?" he exclaimed. "Where's the music?"
    But Gordon looked as surprised--and annoyed--as everyone else.
    "I didn't do anything," he protested, holding up his hands as if that would prove it.
    "Then what happened? Why did the music stop?"
    A researcher pressed buttons and twisted knobs on several of the consoles. "Maybe we have a phasing problem," he offered.
    The static's brittle echo rebounded off the walls.
    "Phasing, my ass." Halloway clamped his hands to his ears. "Damn it, that hurts. Do something."
    Another researcher flicked a switch, disengaging the speakers. The static all but disappeared, coming only from headphones on a desk.
    When Gordon put them on, Halloway couldn't hear the static at all.
    What he did hear, though, was the hum of the many electronic devices that were crammed into the room--and the deeper vibration, almost undetectable, that the facility's electrical generator or the huge dishes aboveground sent through the walls.
    The music had distracted him from his increasing headache, but now the pain intensified through his skull.
    "Where did it come from?"
    The researchers gave each other guarded looks, as if hiding something.
    "Bring it back!"
    "We don't know how we received it in the first place," Gordon explained too quickly, "let alone how to find it again."
    "Just bring it back!" Halloway demanded.
    "You're not even supposed to be in here," Gordon realized, now that the music no longer occupied his attention. "This area's strictly off-limits. You belong in the surveillance room."
    "Like hell. My job's to protect this place. I can go anywhere I want."
    "Well, how about protecting it by checking the security monitors?
    While you've been hanging around in here, a terrorist assault team might have surrounded us."
    Buddy, if you hear that music again and you don't let me know, Halloway silently vowed, terrorists will be the least of your worries.

    Chapter 23.
    Dozens of emergency lights flashed in the darkness. Their chaos of orange, blue, and white contrasted starkly with the shimmering colors Page had thought he'd seen earlier. An engine rumbled