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  He made his decision and nodded to himself, knowing he was right. “Have the ops commander order an immediate security lockdown as a precaution. Better to be safe. I’ll take the call from the Secretary of Energy and assess the situation from my office.”

  Drexler looked back toward the dry-storage tunnels outside the ops center. “What about the review committee, sir? Once you initiate a lockdown, the alarms will go off and those people will be rattled.”

  Harris knew they wouldn’t like it at all, especially not Senator Pulaski, and van Dyckman would be furious. But Harris would not cut corners. “They’ll be safe enough if they just sit tight. It’s happened before. I’ll lift the lockdown as soon as I’m certain what happened outside. I left Ms. Rojas in charge, and I know she’s perfectly competent.” He jogged up the stairs to his office. “That’s my decision. Execute a security lockdown, Mr. Drexler. Now.”

  12

  Without warning, an ear-splitting siren wailed through the tunnels and echoed in the granite-walled chamber. Adonia spun to van Dyckman. “That’s a safety alarm, Stanley. We need to leave.”

  He looked more confused than worried. “I’m sure it’s a drill,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “Probably for our own protection.”

  “You don’t know for sure, Mr. National Program Manager?” Garibaldi said with clear sarcasm.

  Victoria Doyle added a biting comment: “Stanley’s often more enamored with the job title than with the job knowledge.”

  Van Dyckman stiffened. “We’ve had dozens of drills and test exercises here in the Mountain, not to mention false alarms. Makes it hard to get work done, let me tell you.” His chuckle was strained. “Just wait here for the drill to be over.”

  Amidst the alarms, Adonia saw the heavy storage chamber door was automatically closing, which would shut them inside the chamber. She called, “Everybody out, unless you want to be sealed inside!” Leading the way, she herded the nearest person—Victoria Doyle—through the opening with her. Van Dyckman was right on their heels.

  Instead of bolting out into the corridor, though, Mrs. Garcia ran to an embedded console on the far interior wall, where she furiously keyed codes into the LED display. “All of you, get out to the corridor! This isn’t supposed to be happening. These vault doors should remain open to let people escape. I have to disable these sensors.”

  Even as Adonia and Doyle rushed out, Senator Pulaski hesitated, like a deer caught in the headlights, blocking the chamber opening. Shawn shouldered him hard. “Senator—out, now!” He knocked the man unceremoniously out into the tunnel, charging out after him.

  With a constant hum, the heavy door continued to close, leaving Garibaldi and the technician inside. Mrs. Garcia called to him. “Stay here. We’ll just wait it out.”

  Though the gap seemed too narrow, the tall scientist raced through it, desperate. He twisted, squirmed, and Adonia was sure he would be crushed. But with a gasp he squeezed through the vanishing inches just in time. The vault door snagged the back of his tweed jacket and crunched shut against the stone wall.

  Caught in his jacket, Garibaldi struggled. He tugged so hard he ripped the fabric. Shawn helped him shrug out of the coat as Adonia hurried to assist them. “You could have been killed!”

  Garibaldi was gray and sweating, clearly shocked. “I wasn’t going to be locked inside.” He swallowed hard.

  “It’s just a drill,” van Dyckman said, sounding more embarrassed than terrified. “Harris will reset it soon enough. You were overreacting.”

  Out in the tunnel, Senator Pulaski sat on the concrete floor, indignant, nursing his elbow. Undersecretary Doyle stood looking incredulous.

  Garibaldi brushed his shirt, looking back at the torn jacket caught in the heavy door. “And that technician is trapped in there! We’ve got to get her out.”

  Van Dyckman dismissed the problem. “Believe me, the radiation levels are so low in there it’s no worse than getting a dental X-ray. Mrs. Garcia will be fine.”

  “But what happened?” Adonia asked, then narrowed her eyes. “What triggered it?”

  “Harris went to investigate something, so he probably did what the manual told him to do,” van Dyckman said. “He’s too cautious. Whatever happened, I’m sure the systems functioned exactly as designed.”

  Adonia looked back at the sealed vault doorway, realizing how much it reminded her of a crypt. “But Mrs. Garcia said it shouldn’t have closed. And she’s right—that was a safety alarm, and chamber doors are supposed to remain open, so people can escape, not be trapped inside. Something’s wrong, Stanley.”

  Shawn said, “She’s in no immediate danger. The chamber has power and plenty of air, and she knows that. Mrs. Garcia will just have to cool her heels.” He glanced down at Adonia’s feet. “Speaking of which, you lost one of your pumps.”

  Adonia looked down, realizing that in her scramble, she must have knocked off one of her shoes and left it inside the chamber. Since she couldn’t walk in only one shoe, she removed the other one, dropped it on the tunnel floor. “They weren’t very practical inside a mountain anyway. I knew I overdressed for this meeting.”

  The sirens continued to wail, reverberating off the granite walls.

  Queasy, Garibaldi stepped close to the sealed chamber door, tugged uselessly at his dangling jacket, and then placed his palms against the metal. “That woman is in danger … sealed in the storage chamber.”

  Van Dyckman spoke over the alarms. “Like all the staff here in Hydra Mountain, Mrs. Garcia believed in Valiant Locksmith, so she did her job, stayed behind to disable the chamber’s sensors. I think she’s a hero.” He nodded, reaffirming what he had said. “Yes, a hero. She’ll be fine.”

  A flare of anger ignited in Garibaldi’s gray eyes. “If the radiation levels are so low, you sure seemed in a hurry to get out of there, Dr. van Dyckman. Have you ever been locked inside a nuclear vault?”

  “Stanley normally stays locked behind a desk in his Washington office,” Doyle said, drawing her mouth thin. Van Dyckman shot her a glare.

  Senator Pulaski sat against the wall with his knees pulled up, more upset than frightened, despite the ratcheting alarms. “Why would Harris pick today to stage a drill? That’s an idiotic thing to do. We were supposed to have a straightforward, thorough review to show that everything works perfectly.”

  Why indeed? Adonia thought. Unless a genuine crisis had initiated the alarm.

  Shawn tried to help the Senator to his feet, but the man brushed him aside. “Can someone stop this infernal noise? Van Dyckman?”

  Garibaldi was agitated. “Does it indicate a radiation leak? Some kind of spill?”

  Van Dyckman shook his head, yelled so he could be heard above the noise. “No, it’ll cycle off shortly. Whatever it is, I’m sure we aren’t in any danger. Someone probably just opened a door without getting the proper approval.”

  Garibaldi pounced. “So there’s been a security breach? Terrorists taking over Hydra Mountain?”

  Adonia knew that was unlikely, but she still had a sick feeling as she remembered the suicidal plane streaking down toward the wet-storage pools at Granite Bay. “Stanley misspoke. That safety alarm is identical to what we use at my site. It’s standardized across the nuclear industry.”

  Suddenly, the siren stopped, leaving their ears to ring in the silence. “Thank God,” the Senator muttered. Adonia could hear only the low thrum of air exchangers in the metal ventilation duct overhead.

  Shawn looked toward the main corridor where they had entered from the operations center. The massive entry door had also sealed off this side tunnel from the main corridor. He frowned. “How are we supposed to get out?”

  Though she felt a growing chill, Adonia kept her voice calm. “Like it should be open. Safety systems are designed to allow people out of areas, not keep them inside.”

  Shawn considered. “You’re right. If anything, that main tunnel door should let us exit the secure facility, and allow the guards access.”

&n
bsp; Adonia drew in a breath. Maybe we are all trapped just like Mrs. Garcia, but in a much bigger cage. She remembered that she was technically in charge, even if she didn’t know what Rob Harris had in mind for them. “Just stay calm. Mr. Harris is in the operations center, trying to figure out the problem. We need to stay here, wait until this exercise ends.”

  “And then what?” Pulaski demanded, climbing to his feet and looking up and down at the sealed chamber doors. “We all get infected by radiation? I can feel it in the air right now.”

  Doyle and van Dyckman both rolled their eyes. Garibaldi looked surprised by the comment. “You don’t get infected by radiation, Senator. You should at least have a basic understanding of the science if you’re in charge of funding all these programs.”

  Pulaski angrily cut off the lecture. “I don’t care what word you use. It doesn’t seem safe, trapped in here and surrounded by so much nuclear material. We were supposed to move quickly through the facility.”

  “Mountain personnel spend entire work shifts here, day after day,” Shawn said. “We’re well shielded from any radiation. You’ll be fine.”

  Garibaldi still looked shaken. “How rigorous was your review of this old facility before you recommissioned it last year? If you think a small amount of ambient radiation in a sealed tunnel is dangerous now, just wait until all these vaults are full. Are you certain you understand every aspect of the situation?”

  Pulaski lifted his chin. “Dr. van Dyckman performed the review, and I accepted his recommendation.”

  Garibaldi was exasperated. “And that poor woman is trapped in the chamber. None of you can even imagine what she’s enduring in there.”

  Adonia looked at the controls of the vault that trapped Mrs. Garcia, but they had reset themselves and steadily blinked with spurious characters. Instead of doing nothing, she punched in a few options and tried to activate them. Nothing happened.

  Van Dyckman spoke as if he knew what was going on. “Is there any way we can communicate with Harris in the meantime? At least he can tell us what’s going on.”

  Walking on bare feet, Adonia headed down the tunnel to the sealed main door. “Maybe there’s some other way to open that vault door in an emergency. Shouldn’t there be a crash bar? A fallback egress?”

  Van Dyckman followed her. “The analog systems were present on the old vaults, not on my upgrades. I made sure Hydra Mountain was up to modern specs before we received our first shipment for storage.”

  “Just get me the hell out of here.” Pulaski brushed off his knee, which had suffered a bruise when he’d fallen.

  Standing at the sealed exit door that closed off the entire tunnel, Adonia scanned the controls, a mishmash of old 1950s-style switches and a modern LED panel. She saw neither a safety bar nor any other mechanical means of opening the thick metal door, not even an old-fashioned combination dial. Nor a phone.

  Adonia recognized a leftover relic that wasn’t one of the new digital upgrades. “Look, an intercom—Cold War vintage. I wonder if it still works.” When she pushed the Talk button, feedback screeched out of the speaker. After releasing the button, she twisted a black ribbed knob, which she guessed was a volume control. She leaned close and pushed the button again. “Hello?”

  “Operations center. State your identity.” The voice sounded scratchy. The intercom probably still had its original speakers.

  Adonia was losing patience. Who do you think it is? We’re the only ones inside a top-secret facility on a Sunday morning. Then she remembered how much of a stickler Harris was. By the book, all the way. She drew in a breath, calming herself. “Adonia Rojas, with the review committee. Is Mr. Harris there? We’re trapped in one of the tunnels, and our escort, Mrs. Garcia, is locked in a dry-storage vault. Can you open this door?”

  “The lockdown will be lifted shortly, ma’am. We’ve had a Class A incident, and Mr. Harris is managing the situation.”

  Adonia frowned. A plane crash? The sick feeling returned to her stomach. “Can I talk with him? He put me in charge of these people.”

  The scratchy voice sounded terse. “You are safe. Please remain where you are while I get Mr. Harris. Stand by one.” The speaker clicked and fell silent.

  As the others gathered round, Adonia tried to offer some encouragement. “They’re working on the problem. At least they know where we are, thanks to the intercom. I imagine it won’t be too much longer.”

  “I hope not,” Senator Pulaski said. “This Valiant Locksmith review is one thing, but I have other classified programs being discussed at this week’s oversight hearing.” He turned to van Dyckman. “Is there any way I can contact my staff, Stanley? With all that upgrade funding I approved, you must have included some modern means of communication down here.”

  Van Dyckman opened his mouth to speak just as the intercom speaker clicked. “This is Rob Harris. Ms. Rojas, is everyone all right?”

  “We’re fine, but Mrs. Garcia is trapped—”

  Senator Pulaski pushed forward and demanded, “Harris, lift the damned lockdown and open this door.”

  Undersecretary Doyle spoke from the back of the group. “Calm down, Senator.”

  Harris’s voice came from the speaker. “I apologize. A small plane made a hard landing inside Hydra Mountain’s restricted perimeter, and DOE policy required that I initiate a security lockdown. Response teams are on their way to assess the downed aircraft, but preliminary indications are that it is merely an accident. As soon as that’s confirmed, the lockdown will be lifted.”

  Adonia pushed the Talk button. “You are aware that we heard a safety alarm, and not a security one, much less a facility-lockdown alarm.”

  Harris took a moment to answer. “Yes … we’re aware.”

  “Are you in contact with Mrs. Garcia? Is she safe inside the chamber?”

  “And can we do anything to help her?” Shawn added.

  “She’s waiting it out, just like everyone else,” Harris said. “I’ve spoken to her on a separate line. The storage chamber has an independent suite of detectors from the tunnels, so she had to disable the sensors. In the meantime, we’re working to open the main tunnel door and get you out of there as soon as the lockdown’s lifted. We’re still trying to understand why the different systems are bleeding over.”

  Garibaldi stepped close to the speaker. “We were brought here to review your storage operations, Mr. Harris. This is a unique and serendipitous opportunity to hear about the safety and security features, and how they interact. Have all your different systems been fully tested in an integrated fashion? These are ancient, analog DoD artifacts interacting with your new digital DOE systems. Old-school and new technology don’t always play well together.”

  “We’ve tested the sensors and alarms, but not in every conceivable combination.” Harris’s voice hesitated on the intercom, as if he was embarrassed. “And I’m well aware that you heard the safety alarm and not the one for a facility lockdown, but we’re working on that problem as well. Just stay put and don’t tamper with any sensors you see.”

  Shawn looked concerned as he pressed the Talk button. “What about the plane crash? How serious is it? Any casualties? Damage?”

  “None that we know of. The pilot made a rough landing in high winds after taking off from Albuquerque International. He’s inside our fence, which set off both our legacy and newer sensors. When the lockdown was executed, my staff thinks the old safety and networked security systems bled over. That led to, uh, unexpected interactions in the lockdown. Not what was anticipated.”

  “You’re saying it’s a goat rope,” Senator Pulaski fumed.

  “What a surprise.” Garibaldi lifted his brows at Stanley. “Crossover between decoupled systems can never happen, right, Dr. van Dyckman?”

  Van Dyckman opened his mouth, but Pulaski nudged the others out of the way so he could reach the intercom himself. “Harris, can you patch me through to my staff back in Washington? It’s important.”

  “Sorry, Senator. Since you’re i
nside the tunnels, communications have to go through Valiant Locksmith channels, and most of your staffers aren’t read into the program. You’ll be able to contact your office on a secure line as soon as we get you out. Just be patient, please.”

  Before Pulaski could complain further, Adonia asked, “Do you have an estimate when things will get back to normal?”

  “Could be a few minutes, could be an hour. Please stay close to the main tunnel door. I don’t want anybody to trigger any countermeasures.”

  Frustrated, the Senator stalked partway down the tunnel, turned his back to the committee, and pulled something out of his jacket pocket. He fumbled, then pressed it against his ear. It took Adonia a moment to realize what he was doing.

  She reacted with alarm. A phone! He had smuggled in a cell phone, an RF transmitter in these tunnels and chambers filled with delicate sensors—

  Shawn spotted it, too. “Senator, drop that!”

  Adonia yelled, “Stop!”

  Pulaski found the speed dial and pushed Send.

  13

  Tense and overwhelmed, still waiting for clear instructions over the phone, Rob Harris used his shoulder to press the red handset against his ear as he riffled through his old personal security paperwork. He’d signed the original documents over twelve months ago before he stepped into the site manager job, before even knowing what he had agreed to.

  The secure telephone on his desk was doubly encrypted, which was deemed adequate for discussing normal SAP material, but the Undersecretary’s program was a State Department SAP, not DOE. The bureaucratic convolutions, restrictions, and interagency legalities were maddening, but the law was clear, and rules were rules. Harris hadn’t been dragged out of retirement to start cutting corners and breaking Federal law now.

  After a long moment, a digitally reconstructed voice broke the silence on the secure line. “The Secretary will be with you momentarily, Mr. Harris. Sorry for the delay.”

  As he waited, Harris continued to scan the documents, which legally granted him access to the most important secrets in the DOE and the Department of State. Those papers acknowledged his trustworthiness, while threatening horrific consequences if he broke the law.