Taylor said, “I thought I spotted a cell tower on our way in.”
Colonel Howe replied, “You did. But that’s not for phone reception. We use the tower’s signal—in conjunction with GPS satellite data—to track the movements of our Rangers and autonomous systems during training exercises. This allows for a detailed re-creation of their maneuvers during after-action reviews. Major Klasky can demonstrate our system for you later.”
Brodie and Taylor put their suitcases in the back of the Suburban and they all climbed in. Mendez took the wheel, and at Colonel Howe’s insistence, Taylor sat shotgun. Brodie took the second-row captain’s chair behind Taylor.
Mendez drove off the tarmac and onto a paved road that cut through the northern end of the base. They passed the steel Quonset huts Brodie had seen from the air, and a few nondescript concrete buildings. There was no one out and about. The place felt like a desert ghost town.
Colonel Howe provided a background as they wound through the dusty camp. “Camp Hayden was built in 1961 as an infantry training ground, focused primarily on tactical operations in the aftermath of an unconventional weapons attack. It was decommissioned at the end of the Cold War and reopened nine months ago for our training purposes.”
Brodie noticed that a lot of the buildings were padlocked shut, and some had plywood over the windows. He asked, “How much of this facility are you actually using?”
“Only a small portion of the structures are in use,” replied Howe. “Camp Hayden was originally built to train an entire battalion.”
They approached the parade grounds. Three soldiers in desert camo and tan berets stood around its perimeter, each holding an M4 rifle.
Brodie asked, “How many Rangers are at Camp Hayden?”
Howe replied, “Sixty-two. It is a specially configured platoon drawn from the Second Ranger Battalion, Alpha Company. Four weapons squads and a nonstandard headquarters section for command, comms, surveillance, and medical. The platoon leader is Captain Ben Pickman, and the platoon sergeant is Sergeant First Class Mike Miller. Both men are available for you to interview and can give you a more granular understanding of the type of training we do here. And here we are.”
Mendez stopped the SUV near a small, tan-colored concrete building with a corrugated metal roof, a single metal door with a security keypad, and no windows. The door was flanked by two Rangers with M4 rifles, who stood at attention as the car pulled up.
The building could not have been more than three hundred square feet. Brodie was certain this structure housed a staircase or elevator that led to a subterranean area.
They all climbed out of the vehicle and the two Rangers saluted. They all returned the salutes. Then Colonel Howe turned her attention to one of the Rangers, a male corporal in his early twenties with sandy-blond hair and a name patch that identified him as “Ewing.” “Corporal, we are pleased to be hosting two special agents from CID, Warrant Officers Brodie and Taylor.”
Corporal Ewing looked at Brodie and Taylor and said, “Welcome, sir, ma’am.”
Howe said to him, “We are showing them the D-17 units. Escortus.” She said to the other Ranger on sentry, a PFC named Armstrong, “As you were, Private.”
Ewing punched a code and opened the door. They all entered a small room lit by a single bulb, with wide elevator doors directly ahead. Next to the elevator was a steel door that likely led to a stairway. Brodie noticed a faded metal sign attached to the left wall featuring a nuclear symbol.
Howe explained, “This was originally built to be a nuclear fallout bunker. It is a layout that has served us well for storing our prototypes.”
Corporal Ewing pressed a button, and the doors opened to a freight elevator. They all entered, Ewing punched in another code, and then Captain Spencer pressed a fob to a security plate before pushing the button for the lower floor.
Major Klasky explained, “A member of DEVCOM must be present to access the D-17 units.”
Brodie understood why this was their first stop, before the crime scene that they weren’t yet calling a crime scene—Major Ames’s death was a monumental screwup, and Colonel Howe wanted to lead with the impression of just how seriously Camp Hayden took the storage and security of its lethal prototypes.
The elevator began its descent. Brodie took note of Corporal Ewing’s M4 rifle, which had an odd yellow cylindrical attachment on the barrel. He asked, “What is that on the barrel of your rifle, Corporal?”
Ewing hesitated, and Major Klasky said, “You are to answer any and all questions posed to you by Mr. Brodie or Ms. Taylor.”
Ewing nodded, then said, “It’s an EMP attachment, sir. For… use against the D-17s, if necessary.”
Major Klasky explained further, “The corporal’s rifle is loaded with blanks. The firing of a blank bullet triggers generators within the barrel attachment to send a powerful, focused electromagnetic pulse that can disable the D-17s, with a maximum effective range of five yards.”
Taylor asked Ewing, “Have you ever had to use it?”
“No, ma’am. Not personally. But other guys did use them to engage the rogue unit that killed—that was responsible for the death of Major Ames.”
Brodie looked at the yellow cylinder. He recalled that the other Ranger outside the Vault, PFC Armstrong, had the same device on his rifle. So the two guys on sentry duty outside this place had rifles loaded with blanks and were therefore not particularly prepared to guard against an intrusion. They were, in fact, there to guard against anything from down in the Vault gettingout. What the hell were these things?
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. They were about to find out.
CHAPTER 7
THEY ALL STEPPED OUT OFthe elevator into a large, dimly lit underground room, over a hundred feet long and about forty feet wide. The walls and floors were concrete, and lighting fixtures and exposed electrical conduits and ducts covered the ceiling.
