down his window, allowing the dry desert heat to roll in. The air contained a potpourri of JP-4 and engine exhaust. The smell took getting used to, but McGriffin was addicted to it. Like a hearty stout, the fragrance of flying was acquired.
An ancient HH-53 roared overhead, its blades chopping at the air as it turned for the desert. A few miles to the north a flight of helicopters circled lazily, momentarily touching down in the desert on a pickup exercise. Across the runway a deserted hangar reflected the sun back into his eyes.
Once past the flight line, the road dog-eared to the north, then back west, as it headed out to Alpha Base. At the end of the runway a camouflaged C-17B sat on the concrete apron. Red engine protectors sealed the engine inlets from the dust and wind. A series of lights surrounded the apron, glowing dimly in the bright sunlight.
The road to Alpha Base was an anomaly. McGriffin thought that after building the world’s most advanced nuclear storage area, they would have spent a small percentage of the total funds on a decent road. Instead, the two-lane road wound around the desert as if designed by a drunk.
The mammoth crater opened up before him. Five miles across and half a mile deep, the crater had a dirt floor with bunkers spread randomly throughout the area.
He tried to count the bunkers, but quickly lost interest as more and more of the concrete shelters came into view. Four fences curled around the circumference, clearly demarcating the nuclear storage facility from the rest of the base.
It seemed barren, almost as if he were alone out there; but after last night’s display of readiness, McGriffin shuddered to think what would happen if anyone would be crazy enough to infiltrate the fences.
As he turned into the Alpha Base parking lot, he glanced at his watch: 1500. If the tour took any longer than an hour, it was AAFES burgers for dinner again.
He positioned his cap before climbing from the car. A huge sign directed him toward a building marked in-processing. Set partially inside the fenced area, it appeared to be the only entrance to Alpha Base besides the main gate.
A young officer stood when McGriffin entered the building. Decked out in smartly pressed battle fatigues, subdued insignia, and bloused boots, the man extended a mammoth ebony hand.
“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Lieutenant Curtis Fellows, shift commander.” Fellows wore an infectious grin. Towering over McGriffin, he seemed the type to ride herd on a few hundred enlisted men.
“Glad to meet you, Lieutenant. Thanks for arranging the tour on such short notice.”
“No problem, sir. Chief Zolley sent your clearance over. As soon as we’ve run you through the wringer, we’ll get you down in the Pit.”
“The wringer?”
“Part of our security measures.” Fellows swung the door open. A small, featureless room lay inside. “When you’re in the room, just do what you’re told, sir. I’ll meet you on the other side.”
McGriffin straightened his shoulders and walked into the chamber. As the door clicked shut behind him, McGriffin noticed a mirror on one of the walls. A panel slid open directly under the mirror. One-way mirror, McGriffin thought. Nothing too unusual yet.
A disembodied voice came from the panel. “Step up to the panel and look into the mirror.” McGriffin stared, as directed. A moment passed, then the voice announced, “Please step to your left.
A door slid open, opposite from the direction he’d entered. Stepping out into a vacant hallway, McGriffin waited for Fellows.
A moment passed before the lieutenant strode into the hall. “Ready, sir?”
McGriffin frowned. “That’s it?”
“Here.” Fellows led him into a small vestibule set off to the side. A security policeman nodded as they entered. Looking around, McGriffin spotted the one-way mirror and stared into the tiny room he had been locked in.
Fellows pointed to several digital readouts. “When you entered the room, your weight
An ancient HH-53 roared overhead, its blades chopping at the air as it turned for the desert. A few miles to the north a flight of helicopters circled lazily, momentarily touching down in the desert on a pickup exercise. Across the runway a deserted hangar reflected the sun back into his eyes.
Once past the flight line, the road dog-eared to the north, then back west, as it headed out to Alpha Base. At the end of the runway a camouflaged C-17B sat on the concrete apron. Red engine protectors sealed the engine inlets from the dust and wind. A series of lights surrounded the apron, glowing dimly in the bright sunlight.
The road to Alpha Base was an anomaly. McGriffin thought that after building the world’s most advanced nuclear storage area, they would have spent a small percentage of the total funds on a decent road. Instead, the two-lane road wound around the desert as if designed by a drunk.
The mammoth crater opened up before him. Five miles across and half a mile deep, the crater had a dirt floor with bunkers spread randomly throughout the area.
He tried to count the bunkers, but quickly lost interest as more and more of the concrete shelters came into view. Four fences curled around the circumference, clearly demarcating the nuclear storage facility from the rest of the base.
It seemed barren, almost as if he were alone out there; but after last night’s display of readiness, McGriffin shuddered to think what would happen if anyone would be crazy enough to infiltrate the fences.
As he turned into the Alpha Base parking lot, he glanced at his watch: 1500. If the tour took any longer than an hour, it was AAFES burgers for dinner again.
He positioned his cap before climbing from the car. A huge sign directed him toward a building marked in-processing. Set partially inside the fenced area, it appeared to be the only entrance to Alpha Base besides the main gate.
A young officer stood when McGriffin entered the building. Decked out in smartly pressed battle fatigues, subdued insignia, and bloused boots, the man extended a mammoth ebony hand.
“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Lieutenant Curtis Fellows, shift commander.” Fellows wore an infectious grin. Towering over McGriffin, he seemed the type to ride herd on a few hundred enlisted men.
“Glad to meet you, Lieutenant. Thanks for arranging the tour on such short notice.”
“No problem, sir. Chief Zolley sent your clearance over. As soon as we’ve run you through the wringer, we’ll get you down in the Pit.”
“The wringer?”
“Part of our security measures.” Fellows swung the door open. A small, featureless room lay inside. “When you’re in the room, just do what you’re told, sir. I’ll meet you on the other side.”
McGriffin straightened his shoulders and walked into the chamber. As the door clicked shut behind him, McGriffin noticed a mirror on one of the walls. A panel slid open directly under the mirror. One-way mirror, McGriffin thought. Nothing too unusual yet.
A disembodied voice came from the panel. “Step up to the panel and look into the mirror.” McGriffin stared, as directed. A moment passed, then the voice announced, “Please step to your left.
A door slid open, opposite from the direction he’d entered. Stepping out into a vacant hallway, McGriffin waited for Fellows.
A moment passed before the lieutenant strode into the hall. “Ready, sir?”
McGriffin frowned. “That’s it?”
“Here.” Fellows led him into a small vestibule set off to the side. A security policeman nodded as they entered. Looking around, McGriffin spotted the one-way mirror and stared into the tiny room he had been locked in.
Fellows pointed to several digital readouts. “When you entered the room, your weight
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