Secretary Nitta remained silent for a long moment. “Once they reach the guard portal, is someone there to intercept them? Is it manned?”
“Normally, yes, but we have only a skeleton crew today. Hazardous operations were curtailed in order to make the lower level available for the inspection team, and I was expecting to guide them myself. No one else is down there.” He steeled himself, tried to sound confident. “But the guard station is meant to be a safe holding area. Adonia Rojas is in charge, provisionally. I’m sure she will keep them there. She knows what she’s doing.”
“That’s a relief. Have you been in direct contact with her?”
“Not recently. Our … intercoms are shut down.”
The young Energy Secretary let out an exaggerated groan. “What a cluster!”
The red phone sounded muffled as Secretary Nitta covered her end and spoke to someone. In the interim, Harris heard a knock at the office door. He saw his exec and buzzed him in. Drexler slid a sheet of paper across his desk before ducking out.
What else could go wrong? Harris scanned the note and caught his breath.
When the Secretary came back, she sounded as though she was trying to make the best of the situation. “At the very least, I suppose we’ll have to read Senator Pulaski out of all our DOE SAPs, whether or not he’s the oversight committee head. This breach is too serious to ignore. I’ll be putting out fires behind the scenes for the next month.” Then she sighed. “Thanks, Rob. I know your people are doing everything they can. At least it can’t get any worse. Let me know as soon as you have them back out, safe and sound.”
Harris’s throat seemed more dry than usual. “Actually, ma’am … it does get worse.” He glanced at the new sheet of paper on his desk. “If the team doesn’t shelter in place, they may face more severe countermeasures than the safety and security systems established for Valiant Locksmith.”
He had to choose his words carefully, because he wasn’t cleared to speak with the DOE Secretary about Doyle’s State Department SAP. “A final defensive system is still active in the guard portal from the Cold War era, a last-ditch protection mechanism against intrusion into the lower level. If the shelter in place experiences an unauthorized breach, the last level of countermeasures will activate in order to protect the other … activities in the lower level.”
The Secretary asked slowly, “Other activities…?”
He swallowed hard. “Things that were well under way before the DoD decommissioned Hydra Mountain and DOE took possession, ma’am.” He tried to shift her focus. “Lethal force will automatically be employed if both doors of the guard portal are simultaneously opened during a lockdown. If more than one door is open, the system’s logic will assume that intruders have defeated all our nonlethal defenses, and will therefore employ more severe countermeasures.”
“Oh … my God. Lethal force? And we won’t be able to reach the team members for more than five hours? You cannot allow them past that last security portal. Period!”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, ma’am,” Rob said, but his tone of voice said the exact opposite. “Once they get to the guard station, all they have to do is wait it out.”
He imagined how impatient, angry, and frustrated the committee members were. Cut off from communication, they might not be willing to sit still.
18
Adonia moved to catch up with van Dyckman and Doyle, but the two hurried down the tunnel as if it were a race. Silent, successive circles of white light continued to pulse past them to disappear down the tunnel walls like aircraft landing lights directing them deeper into the Mountain.
“All it needs is a whooshing sound,” Adonia muttered, feeling less threatened now that the group was moving in the correct direction. The scene reminded her of an old space ride in a theme park.
She realized that the effect was caused by strands of intense LED lights embedded in the tunnel walls, strobing and pulsing past in a closely timed sequence. An effective and unambiguous way to force intruders—or hapless inspection team members—out of the huge underground complex.
But they were being driven deeper instead, downhill to the lower levels. She hoped the guard portal up ahead would serve as a safe haven, maybe even with a landline phone she could use to call the ops center.
Garibaldi followed close, and she could hear Senator Pulaski grumbling to Shawn from the rear. She turned to see that the Senator had stopped in his tracks, bent at the waist and retching. Though by now she was frustrated and annoyed with the Senator, Adonia tried to retain her professional demeanor. Once they got out of here, though, she intended to document and report Pulaski’s reckless behavior and disregard for security. He had no business being involved in such vital matters. He was an absolute liability.
Behind them, the light circles continued to hurtle down the tunnel, strobing faster in a sickening illusion of acceleration. Pulaski was not just being a drama queen; he was obviously sick and disoriented. Shawn gripped his shoulders, tried to steady the man. He called to Adonia. “These lights are giving him severe vertigo, and his twisted ankle isn’t helping.”
She waited for them to catch up, while the incoming light circles flared past, brighter and faster, as if angry that the two had slowed. Shawn supported the Senator, who convulsed with dry heaves, and then, as another disorienting flare of light streaked past, he vomited onto the granite wall.
Cowed into silence, Garibaldi, Doyle, and van Dyckman waited among the construction materials, plastic panels, rolls of fiberglass insulation, and wooden boards. Just ahead, the tunnel angled steeply down, toward the lower level.
“Sit tight,” Adonia called as she turned back to help Shawn and Pulaski. “We’ll be safe once we make it to the guard station.”
As she turned around and headed the other direction, Garibaldi motioned urgently down the incline. “Better not reverse course, Ms. Rojas. Sensors are tracking us, and they might react. We don’t want the optical and IR deterrents to conclude we’re trying to retreat.”
Finished retching, the Senator panted for breath. Shawn supported him as he stood shaking. “He needs a few minutes.”
“I don’t think we have a few minutes,” Garibaldi warned. Beside him, van Dyckman looked pale and nervous. He didn’t contradict the older scientist.
As before, the light rings began changing color from white, cycling down through deep violet, to light blue, through green and yellow. The rings seemed to be growing angrier as the colors shifted to deep red, then beyond visibility. “We’ve got to move!” Adonia shouted.
Pulaski favored his ankle and took stutter steps as he stumbled down the tunnel as if zapped by lightning. Shawn hissed in unexpected pain as the pulses descended into infrared. The temperature spiraled and he manhandled the Senator, hurrying him along back toward the rest of the group.
Adonia met up with them as a sudden flare of overwhelming heat washed over the front of her body. Her back still felt cool, but her face, neck, and exposed arms felt as if they were in a hot oven. This was far more intense than the flash of infrared heat she’d felt earlier. Barely able to think, she only wanted to turn and run in the direction the countermeasures wanted them to go. She couldn’t control herself.
Shawn hauled Pulaski along, both of them running, paying no heed to the Senator’s injured ankle. Unable to stand the intense heat, Adonia reached the others, who remained huddled among the construction materials. She yelled at the unresponsive walls, as if the systems could hear her, “All right! We’re moving the direction you want us to go!”
But the searing heat did not abate even as they retreated. The punitive waves slapped at them, driving them away relentlessly. “But we’re going downhill! What more are we supposed to do?” They could not outrun the penetrating, fiery sensation.
“This isn’t heat!” Shawn yelled. “It’s millimeter waves. Got to cover ourselves or we’ll be cooked!”
“Cover ourselves with what?” Barely able to think, Adonia looked around.
“The
insulation!” Garibaldi grabbed at the scattered debris. “The fiberglass insulation! It has foil backing, and that’ll deflect the millimeter waves. Wrap yourself in it. Hurry!”
The others also experienced the overwhelming pulses. Following Garibaldi’s shout, they grabbed the dusty blankets of pink insulation, yanking and unrolling them so they could wrap the fiberglass close to their bodies, with the foil backing facing outward.
Adonia didn’t have time to think through the physics. The pain was too intense, like hot coals on her back. She scrabbled for an armful of the pink wooly mats that had been extracted from the old tunnels. The fiberglass prickled like sharp hairs all around her, against her stinging skin, but she needed to protect herself now from the intensifying millimeter bombardment.
Shawn let the Senator slide off his hip against the granite wall, and he and Adonia piled the fiberglass mats on him before snatching more of the material for themselves. They moved frantically, wincing from the pain. Somehow, she and Shawn managed to help cover each other. “Hunker down … until the pulses stop!” he said.
She hoped the countermeasures would stop, but she feared the intensity would increase until it reached lethal levels. “This place is trying to kill us!” Victoria Doyle shouted from beneath her makeshift protection.
Adonia lay buried under the thick mats, feeling blessed relief as the sensation dissipated. She could hear Pulaski moaning on the concrete floor, and Shawn yelled at the Senator, “Stay covered up, sir. It’s for your own protection.”
Nearby, van Dyckman groaned, not knowing what to do, but they had all followed Garibaldi’s urgent instructions. “If we’re wrapped in this tinfoil, won’t we be cooked alive?”
Garibaldi responded, “Not heat! It’s millimeter waves.”
“It’s called active denial,” Shawn said, his voice muffled. “Our embassies use it as a nonlethal defense against rioters.”
In her makeshift cocoon, Adonia felt protected from the searing heat, though she imagined she must look like a fast-food burrito wrapped in foil. The pink fibers reminded her incongruously of cotton candy.
Pulaski’s faint voice came from nearby. “I … I’m not burning up anymore!”
“I’ll explain the technical details later, Senator.” Garibaldi somehow managed to sound superior even through the layers of insulation.
Shawn’s voice cut through the background. “Everyone, remain as motionless as you can. The millimeter waves should stop as soon as the sensors can’t pick up any movement. They’ll think they’ve defeated the intruders.”
Before long, a tense silence filled the tunnel, and Adonia began to hope the countermeasures had really stopped. She heard the sound of foil rustling next to her as Shawn moved, calling out, “Everyone keep still. I’ll make sure it’s safe.” After a moment of silence, he spoke with greater urgency. “Okay, let’s get moving. This is our chance. The sensors will detect us, and I expect they’ll cycle through the defenses again, starting out with visible light rather than a blast of millimeter waves, but if we hurry we may have enough time to get to the guard portal.”
Adonia clawed her way out of the fiberglass wrapping. She felt sticky and itchy. “No time to lose. Cover as much ground as we can.” She shouted at the walls. “We’re going! All right, we’re going.”
The others peeled themselves out of the fiberglass, plucking at their clothes. Garibaldi’s hair was even wilder than before; Undersecretary Doyle tore herself free. Shawn helped Pulaski up while Adonia freed van Dyckman, who shucked his ruined jacket and dumped it on the floor, leaving it with the pile of insulation. “Come on, let’s go! Down the incline before the countermeasures cycle up again.”
Garibaldi showed an unexpected respect for Adonia. “I’ll help where I can, Ms. Rojas. I may not have much in common with all of you politically, but there’s plenty of blame to spread around. For now, we all need to work together to get out of here.”
Together, the group hurried along. Adonia hoped the sensors would determine they were good little intruders, following directions. The next time the millimeter waves hit, they might not have piles of construction material nearby to protect them.
Nonplussed but determined, Doyle pushed ahead, while van Dyckman was pale and shaken. “I still can’t understand why the systems are reacting this way. We should have been able to exit up above! Rob Harris should have been able to let us out of here.”
“Get over it, Stanley,” Doyle said with an edge to her voice. “The priority now is to keep from doing any additional harm until the lockdown is lifted. There can’t be much time left.”
“It’s been hours already!” the Senator groaned.
“Harris said he’d lift the lockdown as soon as he confirmed the plane crash wasn’t an attack,” Adonia pointed out. “We don’t have any idea what’s going on outside, but we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it when we get to the guard portal.”
“Maybe we should go all the way through to the lower level. The main cavern is the most secure zone in the facility,” van Dyckman said. “We’ll be safe there.”
Doyle gave him a withering look as they hurried down the incline. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Stanley. You think Valiant Locksmith is the big dog in the Mountain, but other programs have been here for forty years or more. A lot of it isn’t under your jurisdiction.”
He blinked at her. “What do you mean? Hydra Mountain is mine—by Presidential order. Your old DOE weapons programs only had a small presence here, storing spare parts for the national labs. The U.S. isn’t even building nukes anymore, so whatever leftover weapons work may still be in this facility is irrelevant at best.”
Doyle rounded on him, but Adonia cut them off in a low but forceful tone. “Quibbling will get us killed. Do you really think the safety and security systems are going to get any simpler as we head deeper into the Mountain?”
Van Dyckman seemed surprised at her insubordinate tone, considering he was so much higher up the political chain, but Doyle cut him off before he could speak. “Put a lid on it, Stanley. She’s right. We need to get to the guard portal.” With a quick glance toward Adonia, the older woman hurried ahead, confident the others would follow.
Adonia looked at van Dyckman to gauge his reaction and saw him scrunching his forehead, as though he strained to control his anger. She imagined that so many parts of his career had begun to unravel on a day that should have been his triumph; in his high-level DOE position, van Dyckman had rarely been put in his place. Reporting directly to the young Secretary of Energy herself, he’d probably thought he was the fair-haired boy, a seasoned politician compared to her, who knew how to play cutthroat games. After all, he was responsible for running a neat and politically feasible solution to the nation’s nuclear waste crisis.
Adonia guessed that she and the others were supposed to see the true worth of Valiant Locksmith and shower him with accolades for solving a desperate crisis … but now his solution was falling apart in front of his sponsor, his old lover, and his greatest critic.
He strode off after Doyle, ready to go on the attack, but Adonia caught him. “No more discussion, Stanley. Save it for when we get to the guard portal.”
She needed to give him something to do, to reaffirm his sense of importance, to distract him. Behind them, Shawn and Garibaldi helped Senator Pulaski along. Adonia turned to van Dyckman. “Stanley, please help with the Senator. It’s going to take all of us to get him through this, and you’re still going to need his support after all this is over.”
It took a moment, but van Dyckman forced a nod. “I know he’s … challenging, but he’s always been that way. He’s an extremely important man. This program’s future may depend on him, but Victoria keeps finding fault with everything we’re trying to do.” He shook his head. “I still don’t understand why Harris even made her part of this review team.”
“Rob must have had his reasons,” Adonia said. As Shawn and Pulaski caught up, she, too, wondered why in the world such a dispar
ate team had been pulled together in the first place. There had to be a deeper reason than just a simple inspection. What did Harris really have in mind?
19
As they approached the guard portal, the passageway was cluttered with even more piled materials, which they had to dodge. Adonia was surprised to see how much construction was still taking place inside the Mountain.
The facility had been mothballed for years, and when the DOE took over the site and reconfigured the storage chambers for Valiant Locksmith, she knew that substantial modifications would have been necessary. But according to Stanley, the Mountain had been reopened for over a year. If a steady flow of nuclear waste had been arriving for secure storage, the facility should have been finished and approved for operations. Even if Valiant Locksmith was deeply classified, no program was too important for DOE lawyers to waive safety regulations.
So what was van Dyckman still building down here?
She imagined that even as he helped the agitated Senator along, van Dyckman was brainstorming how they could salvage the review.
Victoria Doyle shot a dissatisfied scowl back at them, and Adonia didn’t know how to read the increasing tension. She could tell the Undersecretary had some deep animus toward Stanley, which was more than scientific or political rivalry. This was personal.
As she caught up to Doyle, she remembered hearing the rumors during her own short stint at DOE Headquarters, of the poorly concealed affair between the two energetic rising stars. Supposedly, their relationship had begun back when van Dyckman was still Pulaski’s congressional Chief of Staff and before Doyle received her appointment as Undersecretary to administer the DOE’s National Nuclear Security Administration. Both of them were ambitious and could use each other’s connections. Victoria gained influence and incomparable access to a powerful senator, while Stanley received unique insider information about one of the executive branch’s most important agencies, responsible for nuclear weapon development. It wasn’t a starry-eyed romance, but more of a high-level, mutual partnership with benefits.
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