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Chapter 1
Cheyenne Mountain Complex
Outside Colorado Springs, CO
Although it was dark when the convoy in which Rick was riding pulled in to Fort Carson, there was still power to much of the base. Lights on and around the runway showed planes and helicopters parked out of their normal positions. Several of the hangars were open and had people and vehicles going back and forth between the aircraft. Two of the helicopters—older models that looked like they had flown in straight out of Vietnam—had their rotors spinning and their lights were on. The rest of the aircraft that Rick could see, however, looked like they were non-functional.
He rode from the base to the Cheyenne complex in the back of an armored transport vehicle along with several other individuals. A few of them were soldiers but others were in suits that looked like they had been worn without being taken off for the last week or three. No one inside the vehicle spoke to each other except for the driver who had a brief conversation with two guards stationed outside the entrance to the Cheyenne complex.
The attitude of the people inside the vehicle and those Rick had seen on the base was the thing that stood out the most to him. In Las Vegas and Nellis he had gotten a sense from the survivor and military populations that they were scared and desperate but they still had hope. The attitude from everyone he had met since walking back to the road from the C-130 crash was of utter despair. There was no sense of hope left in anyone’s faces or voices and they all kept to themselves, staring at the floor of the vehicle in silence. Hope was no longer present in the minds of most.
“ID.” The second guard sounded much like the first, asking the driver of the armored vehicle for his identification in a rote, robotic tone. The driver displayed his card and the guard glanced through the small window at the passengers in the back. “More of ‘em, eh? Any of these from the crash?”
The driver shook his head. “No survivors.”
“Shit. Third one in the last day. What the hell’s going on? An escalation?”
The driver shrugged. “That’s way above my pay grade.”
The guard nodded and sighed. “Yeah, same. Good luck. Drive safe.”
The driver nodded and put the vehicle back into gear, revving the diesel engine. The armored transport continued up the winding road towards the base of Cheyenne Mountain. While the rest of the passengers in the transport stayed still in their seats Rick leaned forward, looking past the others to watch out the front window. The transport headed down the mile-long tunnel quickly, stopping only a few times to pull to the side and let other vehicles pass. When they reached the end where the tunnel branched off, the transport stopped and the back door slowly opened.
Rick turned to see a pair of soldiers at the back of the transport. Each of them carried assault rifles and flashlights. The pair ran their flashlights over the faces of each person in the transport before stopping on one in particular.
“Rick Waters?”
Rick felt his stomach churn and he wondered if the soldiers could hear his gulp. He raised his hand tentatively and gave the soldiers a half-smile. “That’s me…”
“Come with us please, sir.” One of the soldiers tucked away a small scrap of paper into his pocket and waved at Rick to step forward.
Rick looked around at his fellow passengers with wide eyes as he rose from his seat and made his way out of the vehicle. The soldiers pointed at a massive doorway beyond the vehicle and one of them touched his back, prompting him to move. “This way, sir.” Though the soldiers stuck close to Rick he was somewhat relieved to find that they weren’t making any overt moves to detain him. He knew that there was no way he could escape but not being put into handcuffs or having them physically restrain him made the situation slightly more bearable.
The first door into the labyrinth beyond weighed twenty-five tons and looked to be a good three feet thick based on Rick’s quick estimation as he walked past. The door was only ajar enough for two people walking side by side to squeeze through. While the door could be opened and closed electronically there were several soldiers standing nearby ready to seal it manually if needed.
“Why are you guys leaving the door open?” Rick looked at one of the soldiers escorting him after they passed through the door and entered the facility proper.
“Orders.” The answer was abrupt and left Rick with a confused expression.
Rick and the soldiers pressed on, winding their way through the main facility and up three levels until the soldier stopped outside a wooden door that looked oddly out of place in the beige metal hall.
“In here, sir. The general’s ready to see you now.”
“Who is this? I don’t remember making an appointment.” Rick’s attempt at a joke fell flat as the soldiers didn’t do so much as blink as one of them replied.
“General Black, United States Army. He’s in temporary command.”
“Temporary?” Before Rick could ask the soldier to clarify there was a voice from beyond the door.
“Is that him?” The question was as brusque as the voice was gravely.
“Yes, sir!” One of the soldiers straightened his back slightly as the other responded.
“Well get him in here now, dammit!”
Rick gave one final look at the soldiers before pushing open the door and entering the office beyond. The soldiers pulled the door closed behind him and he found himself in a surprisingly small office, half of which was taken up by old cardboard boxes filled with reams of paper. The other half was devoted to a tiny L-shaped desk, a couple of chairs that looked like they had fallen through a time machine from the 40’s and a man the size of a bear wearing a uniform that looked like it could pop at any moment.
“General?” Rick took a half-step forward, bumping his foot on a chair and almost tripping in the process. He stuck out his hand and the General nodded at him, ignoring his attempt at a handshake.
“Correct. General Black. Sit down, Mr. Waters. I’ll get straight to the point.” The general continued to talk before Rick could make an attempt to sit down in one of the chairs. “I was informed that you were heading in this direction. Glad to see we could catch you before you got past.”
Rick tilted his head, confused by what the general was saying. “Am I… in trouble for something? The commander at Nellis gave me the Humvee and—”
“Who would that be?” The general picked up a pen and held the tip to a piece of paper.
Rick squinted, trying to remember the man’s name. “It was Leslie, I believe. Yeah, that was it. Colonel Leslie.”
“Hm.” General Black scribbled down the name and placed his pen back on his desk. “So why is it you didn’t head east to Mount Weather when you had a chance?”
“How did you know about that?”
“We do actually talk to each other, Mr. Waters.” The general spoke in a condescending tone and Rick suddenly felt like he was back in his father’s office undergoing a combination lecture and interrogation. “Would you care to answer the question?”
Rick shrugged. “I didn’t feel like going. My family’s more important to me than trying to be a hero so I decided not to go. Seeing that C-130 go down in the mountains makes me glad I didn’t, though.”
General Black frowned again. “That was an unfortunate oversight on the part of the flight crew. And, for what it’s worth, you’re much better off for not having gone to Mount Weather.” He sighed and shuffled a few papers before interlacing his fingers and placing them on the desk in front of him. “Mr. Waters. You’ve come here in a military vehicle from a base that was overrun. You were in the vicinity of a crashed aircraft. We know nothing of your background or history and yet here you sit in the heart of a military base. Explain to me why I shouldn’t kick you out on your ass and hope a nuke drops on top of you to spare me the trouble of wasting a bullet.”
Rick’s stomach sank and his heartrate skyrocketed as he realized that the general was being very serious. He blinked several times and cleared his throat as he thought about the ridiculous question, trying to come up with a satisfactory answer. Finally he decided on one that he hoped the general wouldn’t be expecting. “Actually, I’d prefer to be kicked out. Just give me my vehicle and supplies and I’ll be on my way.”
General Black’s face was frozen and he sat still, not sure what to do. Finally, after a few seconds, he opened his mouth only to shut it again before finally finding the words to speak. “I… what?”
“Kick me out on my ass, General.” Rick resisted the urge to sound smug though he knew he had the man sitting across the desk on the ropes. “I have a very long trip ahead of me and I’d prefer to continue over arguing or being interrogated.”
The general shook his head and ran his tongue over his gums as he looked down at the paperwork on his desk. “That, uh… no. Impossible.” He held up a piece of paper and Rick squinted at it.
“What’s this?”
“Orders. You’re tagged as a ‘Class A’ asset. You and all the other civvies who managed to wrangle their way onto our transports.”
“I… don’t follow.”
General Black leaned forward, his face solemn and his tone as serious as a heart attack. “Civilian search and rescue attempts have been largely suspended. We’re in full-on damage control mode at this point. The only reason the Russians haven’t nuked us to hell and back is because they probably can’t even point their damned missiles in our direction due to Damocles.”
“What on earth does that have to do with me and whether I can travel or not?”
