Page 197 of Silent Target

A white light sweeps over his skin.

“Executive authority recognized.”

A second beam scans his face.

For several seconds, nothing happens.

Then:

“Successor credentials accepted.”

The steel locking bolts begin retracting.

One.

Then another.

Then another.

The sound echoes through the conduit.

Falcon exhales. “I’ve never been happier to hear a door unlock.”

The barrier moves inward.

Cold air spills from the room beyond.

Rows of servers blink in the darkness.

The control center stretches far beneath the mountain, filled with enough computing power to coordinate Black Banner’s global network.

Fathom steps inside.

“This is their entire kingdom.”

Every monitor turns on.

Charles Whitmore’s face fills them.

The recording was made recently.

Maybe weeks ago.

He smiles directly into the camera.

“If you are watching this, someone I trusted has finally betrayed me.”

Mac freezes.

Whitmore’s eyes seem to focus on him.

“Hello, Mac.”

The mountain shakes again.

The countdown reaches four minutes, fifty-eight seconds.

And somewhere behind us, Victor’s team breaches the conduit.