Arthur crossed his arms. “No way this kind of construction could withstand a nuclear attack. The whole thing would probably collapse. Glass in the windows? This is pathetic!”
“Remember, they had no idea until the first test how powerful an atomic blast would be. It even surprised the scientists working on it. That’s why they built the Greenbrier bunker, after they knew what it would take. Remember, we were stretched to the limit in the Big One. Once it ended, we breathed a big sigh of relief – for about four years. The Soviet Union detonated its first atomic bomb in 1949 and immediately started to turn the screws with the Berlin blockade. So the US geared up for the Cold War. The government initiated Project Greek Island in the 1950s and once they had that super-bunker, this place got mothballed. Fortunately for us, over the next fifty or sixty years, it got forgotten about too.”
“How do you know they won’t dig up the information on its existence, pardon the pun?” I asked.
“Because I searched every database I could access and deleted all references to it. I buried the only hardcopy file I could find in the basement of the Pentagon, and I took the keys out. It’s in the wrong box on the wrong shelf in the wrong vault, in a section that has already been digitized. But the Sosthenes file never was digitized. It was intended to be secret. So barring incredible luck or a tipped-off search taking thousands of man-hours, no one knows about this.”
“Except that mining official.”
“Sure, but all he knows is he ran into some unknown government property bounded by a fence. He never got in. Once I took a look I knew I couldn’t let anyone in on this. I told him it was hazardous waste storage, and if their mining operations got too close they could release toxic materials. And…I kinda let slip something about nerve gas and national security.”
Several of us chuckled. “So he thought you were giving him a cover story and it was really old chemical weapons.”
“Yup. So unless all hell breaks loose and the government actually comes out into the open to find us, enlists the public, it’s very unlikely anyone will connect the dots. If they do…at least we have our Alamo.”
“They all died at the Alamo, boss,” muttered Larry.
“Okay, bad metaphor. It’s our Cheyenne Mountain, how’s that.”
“That’s good, that’s an Air Force Base,” I chimed in.
“Smartass blue-suiter. How about I show you the best part.”
“I hope it involves food, because we only got enough for a couple days,” Larry complained.
Zeke’s ever-present grin got wider. “Oh, baby, you have no idea. Here, let’s run a jump.”
He drove the Land Rover over to a diesel generator sitting by the wall, then hooked up his jumper cables. A moment later he had the machine started, and a faint orange glow started above our heads from dozens of sodium lamps. Not all of them worked, but there were enough. We turned off the car lights to conserve our batteries.
I wondered about the diesel emissions until I noticed its exhaust pipe ran up to a hole in the wall. The air in the cavern seemed fairly fresh, too. There must be some natural ventilation, like in those ‘breathing caves’ found here and there.
Zeke walked over to the door at the end of the long row of windows. Vinny went with him. He turned on the lights inside, which were faint and flickering fluorescents. They looked like they wouldn’t last much longer. If we were going to refurbish and use this place, light bulbs were only the first of many things we would need.
“Oh man, this is a trip!” Vinny blurted, looking at the half-century old equipment.
“Yep, and not a computer in sight. Just good old dials, knobs and switches.” Zeke flipped some of the switches and the lights came on in the two big tunnels, stretching deeper down into the mountain. The generator coughed and strained under the increased load. He flipped another two switches and two-thirds of the sodium lamps above our heads went off. There was still plenty of light.
“What happens when we run out of diesel?” I asked him.
“That’s just for temporary use. Let’s go down and get this place running again. Larry, Roger, Vinny, you come with me. We’ll get the hydroelectric plant going. You guys look around up here. There shouldn’t be anything more dangerous than falling rocks. That reminds me – I suggest everyone wear a helmet. If you don’t have one, there are hard hats in there,” he said, pointing to a storage-room door.
It took about four hours but eventually the tone of the generator changed, and a plethora of ancillary lights came on – exit lights over doors, secondary lights in the rooms behind the windows, and the sodium lamps got brighter. I also felt the soughing of a ventilation fan, apparently to supplement the natural air. That would help if we had to run any vehicles. Spooky took it upon himself to turn off the diesel generator, and nothing bad happened. It looked like the hydroelectric power was up and running.
We’d been keeping busy exploring the cavern and the installations around it. There were locker rooms with showers and toilets, and after a lot of running, the water from the pipes cleared. The hot water faucets even ran fairly warm. There must be a hot spring or something like that. Life would be a lot better down here with hot water.
There were offices with carefully mothballed manual typewriters, sealed canisters of replacement ribbons and bottles of ink. There were airtight boxes with paper and envelopes and manila folders, straight out of the 1950s. There were light bulbs and extension cords and fans and swivel chairs and a whole huge room full of shelves stocked with automotive parts in tinfoil and cellophane packing. There were cans of bearing grease and motor oil and differential oil and paint and ammonia and on and on and on. I wondered how much money we could get for some of this stuff in an online auction. I knew one source of income we had if nothing else.
A lot of stuff was unusable after all this time, but some was pristine, like the day it was made. I looked at a perfect, shiny set of hubcaps for the 1948 Ford Super Deluxe sitting on its flattened tires in the big cavern. The car itself had 257 miles on the odometer. It would probably fetch a year’s pay at an auction. This place was a museum and a goldmine.
How right I was. Later on, Zeke showed us stacks of mint gold and silver coins in a vault, placed there to ensure the occupants had money if paper currency collapsed. There were also bundles of uncirculated US bills from the 1940s, which would fetch more than face value to collectors. There was at least twenty million dollars in there.
Now I knew why Zeke hid that file. He was as honest and patriotic as the next guy but who wouldn’t be tempted by twenty million in ready cash and all this cool stuff? And it was all unknown, a victimless crime, a treasure trove just waiting half a century for someone to put it to use. I felt slightly guilty, but there were far more important considerations. If using this wealth was a sin, then it was the least of many evils.
-17-
We spent the next day moving in and trying to get the basics working in the bunker. There were months of effort in front of us if we were to live here long term.
There was a residence level, with about a hundred individual rooms. There were open bays that could house many more people in less comfort. Elise and I took rooms next to each other. Neither of us trusted the emotions born of those first intense moments, and we were giving it time. I was okay with that, but we did spend a lot of time together, talking around our feelings, spiraling closer.
Struggling with not letting our physical desires for each other take over, I realized more and more how much we were slaves to our own biology. There was an old saw about ‘if you don’t control your passions, your passions control you.’ I resolved to remain my own master, no matter what the Eden Plague did to me.
We ate in a cafeteria with a kitchen attached. Right now food preparation consisted of dumping cans into saucepans and heating up the contents. Zeke called a meeting for dinnertime, and we gathered there at one long table. He talked on his feet, pacing up and down, while we ate.
“We have electricity, food, heat, air, and
supplies. We need to discuss our next move.”
“What ‘we,’ Kemo Sabe?”
Laughter from the older people. Elise and Vinny looked confused.
“I’ll explain later,” I told her. She was ten years younger than I was. Probably had barely even heard of the Lone Ranger.
“Seriously. What are we going to do?”
A long silence. A raised hand.
“Yes, Roger?”
“We need to set up a lab again. We need equipment. An electron microscope. DNA sequencers. Computers.”
“Noted. You three scientists draw up a wish list.”
“We need to set up the satellite dish, get comms up. We need internet, preferably tap into a landline somewhere,” said Vinny.
“Ditto. Make a list. You’ll be on the shopping team.”
I crossed my arms. “Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves? These are details. We need to discuss the bigger questions.”
“Such as?”
“Identity. Policy. Strategy. Structure. What are we? Are we just a bunch of outlaws? Are we an A-team? A township? Does everyone start bringing their families in here? Or do some of you who can, go back to a normal life and keep this knowledge to yourself? Because any one of us could blow the whole thing wide open, and get everyone buried deep in government black.”
Zeke blew air past his lips. “All right, good questions. Anyone?”
Elise said, “I think I speak for all of the former INS employees when I say we want to stay here for now and resume our research. This involves the fate of humanity. I don’t trust Jenkins or the government to handle it right. As long as this doesn’t turn into some kind of freaky cult, I don’t care much what the policy and strategy is. Not right now.”
Skull spoke. “We need to agree on some ROE, though. Rules of Engagement. Such as, no one they are looking for can leave the bunker unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“He’s right,” I said. “That means me and the INS people stay. And, nobody tells anyone else about the situation without everyone’s agreement.”
“Everyone? That’s cumbersome.”
I responded, “Okay, then majority agreement? Right. I’ll start first. My dad lives a couple of hours from here. He has his own plane and some land. They will probably be watching him because of me, but we can agree in advance that he can be told and he will eventually come in, but only when we are sure it’s safe.”
Nods all around.
“And I know Zeke is waiting to say what he wants, so I’ll say it for him. His family. Wife and two kids. The longer we wait, the more likely they will connect him to me and the harder it will be to get them here. Zeke?”
“Yeah. What DJ said. I want them brought here. And my mom. She’s in a home with Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t even know me anymore. I don’t mean to sound cold-blooded but we might as well try the Eden Plague on her. She’s just in God’s waiting room right now anyway. It would be worth whatever side effects if her mind was restored, even for a couple of years.”
“Everyone okay with that?”
Vinny said, “Why don’t we just all agree that any immediate family that will be brought here, and we trust, can come in. But don’t tell anyone that’s going to stay on the outside.”
“See, there’s policy. Agreed?” I asked.
Everyone did.
“Is there anyone that plans to go back to their life and forget about all this?” I looked in Skull, Spooky and Vinny’s direction. They were the big question marks.
“No way,” says Vinny. “This is the coolest thing since forever. I always wanted to live outside the law and hack into anything I wanted. My family is Uncle Tran’s, so I’m just speaking for myself.”
There were nods and quiet mumbles of approbation. Everyone looked at Spooky, expectantly.
“I cannot bring my own family. Too many friends, brothers, uncles, cousins, my people. Unless they all come. So I go back. I am the man on the outside. Maybe there is a time I will bring my people in. Or send in some of them. Agree?”
He looked around anxiously, an unusual emotion for him to show. Everyone nodded.
Zeke said, “Done. Alan?”
Skull sat impassively, his arms crossed like mine. If I didn’t know better I would think he was enjoying the limelight.
“I have to think about it.”
Stares his direction, some hostile. We couldn’t afford to drive him away, though. I didn’t want to have to take drastic measures. I had to keep peace.
“Just as long as you don’t give up our secrets, I’m okay with that,” I said. The rest of the group followed my lead, accepting. Denham’s expression might have thawed a trifle.
Larry spoke up. “Well, I’m infected, so I ain’t goin’ back to live. But I’d like to go back home for a while, see who might be good candidates. And I got my eye on a honey but it ain’t a done deal yet. I got a sister and she got kids, and then there’s my mom and dad. All right?”
Nods all around.
Zeke clasped his hands together, rubbed them briskly. “That’s settled, then. The first expedition is to get my family. Then we can get anyone else’s. Who’s coming with me?”
The discussion sorted itself into two parts. The A-team composed of Skull, Larry, Spooky, and Zeke would go get his family. Once they were secured and en route to the bunker, Larry and Spooky and maybe Skull would go get Larry’s relatives, and possibly some of Spooky’s. The rest would stay at the bunker, with Vinny doing the shopping trips, and get the place in order.
There was endless work.
-18-
Right before the mini-A-team left, I sought out Zeke. I watched him from the doorway for a minute as he suited up, before I disturbed him. “Here. Protein bars. Stick ‘em in your pockets.”
“Thanks.” He took them, stuffing them into various places in his clothing.
“This too.” I handed him a zippered pouch.
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
“Syringes? What’s in it?”
“Eden Plague. From my saliva.”
“But I can just bite anyone I need to.”
“I think this will work faster. Bigger dose. And it might have its uses.”
He opened the pouch, looked at the two preloaded syringes in it, wrapped in padding. “Okay.”
I clasped his hand. “Good luck, Zeke. I’m looking forward to seeing Cassie and Ricky and…”
“Millie.”
“Right.”
***
Zeke and Larry took the Land Rover, Skull and Spooky the Cherokee, a natural division. On the way Zeke and Larry hardly stopped talking , reminiscing about missions and comrades, friends and golf games, women and bars.
The other two drove in relative silence, listening to the radio and making a few comments about the road. They all had their secure radios but kept them in push-to-talk mode.
Eight hours later the pair of SUVs pulled into a truck stop at the outskirts of Fayetteville, North Carolina, just after dark. They sent Spooky in for food.
Zeke opened up a disposable cell phone, activated it, and called a special set of digits. He entered a code and his home number. This process masked the call, routing it through an offshore international service, nearly impossible to trace.
“Hi, Cass, it’s me. How’re the kids?”
“Everything green here, Mister J.”
Zeke’s blood chilled. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be gone for two more weeks.” He rambled on about family concerns couple of minutes before hanging up. Disposing of the phone, he switched his secure radio to voice-activated mode.
“They’re under surveillance. My wife gave me the code for ‘being watched.’ I told her to expect extraction at two a.m.”
“Damn, Sam, you got that girl well trained,” Larry chucked.
“Actually, she got me trained. I never told you what she did before, did I?”
“Nope.”
“I met her at the US Embassy in Moscow. I was there as a military attaché. She
was deputy station chief.”
“She was Agency.”
“Yup. In the ultimate tradecraft training ground. She’ll be fine. We just have to make a plan to get them out and break contact. That means we have to locate the surveillance and shut them down.”
Skull chuckled. “Does that mean I’m weapons free now that DJ Do-Right is out of the picture?”
Zeke sighed, exasperated. “Alan, if we kill their people it will raise the stakes tenfold. Right now Jenkins is trying to keep everything hush-hush. Dead feds, or even contractors, will force him to confess to his superiors and they’ll come after us like a pack of hounds.”
“Joking, boss, joking.”
“I hope so. If you have to shoot, wound them. One of us will bite them if we have to.”
“Why don’t you do that anyway? Won’t that screw them up? Get them fighting the disease instead of us?”
A long, thoughtful pause. “Interesting idea. Maybe when we get back we should start trying to weaponize this thing. Create a delivery system. Darts or something. See if it can be put in a water supply. So we can make good on our threats.”
“Hmmm.”
Spooky returned with the food.
“How do you think they connected you with Markis?”
“Good intel work. Assemble a database of all his associates. Cross match with things like, ‘Did he treat them in the field?’ ‘Are they at home or out of town?’ Stuff like that.”
“I hate intel pukes,” Skull growled.
“Only when they’re on the other side.”
“I hate them all.”
Zeke exchanged silent looks with Larry. He shrugged.
“Let’s focus on our five-meter targets, shall we? We make a sweep of my neighborhood. Locate the surveillance. Make a plan. Ready?”
The Eden Plague Page 13
