Brodie said, “Sir, we must get down there. I can’t tell you why on an open channel. Over.”
“Then get back here and tell me to my face like you should have done the first time.”
“There’s no time for that, sir. Over.”
“Why?”
“Because the threat level is high. Because someone with worse intentions than us might try to get in there. Or something down there might be able to get itself out. Over.”
“How the hell is that possible?”
“The tin men keep surprising us.”
“An M2 with armor-piercing bullets can take care of any surprises, Mr. Brodie. Request denied. Over and out.”
Brodie lowered the walkie. Stubborn son of a bitch. He eyed the Rangers. He probably wasn’t going to be able to talk his way through that.
Dixon looked at him. “What’s the move?”
“Let’s wing it,” said Brodie. He opened his door.
Taylor said to her, “When working with Scott, that’s always the move.”
They all got out and approached the Rangers. Brodie spotted Sergeant Miller among them, holding an M4 with live ammo. He looked exhausted.
Brodie said, “Good afternoon, Sergeant. Glad you get to stretch your legs.”
Miller smirked. “Thank you, sir.”
“How’s Greer?”
One of the other Rangers chuckled. Miller said, “Sleeping. You guys have a good time?”
“It was eye-opening,” said Brodie. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He walked toward the Vault door.
Miller stepped in front of him. “Can’t allow that, sir.”
“I know. You’re following orders. But I want you to think of the D-17s down there as fifty-eight loitering munitions with a targeting system on the fritz. It doesn’t take much for them to fire, and their targets will be all of us. We want to go down into that bunker and disarm them. That’s all.”
Miller replied, “That sounds reasonable to me. Take it to the general.”
“Sergeant, this tiny camp had a four-person officer corps. One of them is dead, one of them is in detention, and one of them has lost his fucking mind. That leaves Captain Pickman, who we both agree is an asshole, and who would never have the balls to listen to reason and go against Morgan.” He added, “I used to be in your position, Sergeant. I know what it is to be an NCO. You have a special responsibility and earn a special kind of trust from those under your command.”
Miller did not reply.
Taylor stepped in and said, “If we’re wrong about this, you might face a court-martial. But if we’re right, and you don’t let us in…” She paused. “Sixty-seven engagements, Sergeant. And you’re oh for sixty-seven. And that was against only a dozen of them.”
Miller sighed. “And you’re telling me you think they can… get out on their own?”
Dixon said, “We don’t know, Sergeant. We’re in uncharted waters.”
“And you really want to go down there?”
“Want? No. We need to. With the full awareness that we are risking our lives.”
Miller took a moment, then said, “All right. But we’re sending a few guys with you.”
“That’s not necessary,” said Dixon. “We either succeed, or we fail. If we fail, we’re dead, and you’re going to need all the manpower you have up here.”
