“Hey, everybody — we’ve got a virgin!” Vikki rolled her eyes as Daria clicked off the amplifier. She stood unsteadily in the center of the room. “George’s date is a virgin.”
“Welcome to the club, sister. Put your name in the hat and grab a date.”
“Sit down, Daria. You’ve had too much to drink.”
Daria lifted her glass in a mock toast. “Well, George’s date is free game, and I don’t want anyone to spoil it for her.”
A catcall accompanied Daria’s reply. Daria stuck out her tongue at the group and paced back to Vikki. She looped her arm over Vikki’s. Someone flicked back on the stereo.
Vikki shook her off. “What was that all about?” she demanded.
Daria laughed. “You, my dear, are an endangered species.”
Vikki lowered her voice. “You are going to be endangered if you don’t explain. What is going on?”
Daria sobered up at Vikki’s tone. “The guys who work in the Pit — Alpha Base, to the uninitiated — are the top security policemen in the air force. They’ve been specially selected to work there. It’s an honor assignment for them. Their air force career is in the bag, and they’ll be getting choice jobs, assignments and promotions from here on out.” She sipped unsteadily at her wine. “What I’m getting at is, if you can hook one of them, you’re going places — you’ve got it made. And since you’ve never dated one of them before, you’re a special commodity.”
“What’s so special about it?”
“For one thing, you’re not a secondhand gal, jumping from one bed to the next. The guys tend to look up to you for that.”
Vikki studied Daria. She wasn’t drunk, but from the edge in her voice, Vikki could tell that she hit a nerve. Maybe it explained the tenseness in the room when she was around, Vikki thought. She decided to take a chance. She said coyly, “Not like you, I take it.”
“That’s right. Not like me.” Daria quickly drained the rest of her wine. She giggled and toyed with the glass. “I must have dated every guy in the Pit, and slept with half of them.” She motioned with her head to the women in the room. “Most of these girls are in the same boat — they didn’t stay with their original guy. After all, take a look.” She swept an unsteady hand toward the kitchen. “Where else can you find so many studs in one place? But watch out. Once you make the mistake of going for someone else, you’re passed around Alpha Base like a piece of meat.”
Vikki felt a pang of sorrow for her. She tried to squash the feeling, embarrassed at her empathy. “Surely everyone’s not in the same situation.”
Daria’s voice was bitter. “Why do you think we’re not mixing with the women in the kitchen? Or in the other room? The ‘truly faithful’ are clinging to their men. Like you should be, dear.”
Vikki made up her mind. If she was going to pull this off, she couldn’t afford to be seen mingling with Daria’s crowd. It wouldn’t do to have George Britnell’s suspicion’s raised.
Vikki smiled sweetly and handed her drink to Daria. “Thanks for the advice, dear.”
Daria blinked. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”
Vikki stopped before leaving, her curiosity getting the best of her. “By the way, if you’ve been passed around Alpha Base, then why are you staying? Why don’t you find another crowd?”
Daria looked shocked. “And miss a chance to nail one of these guys? You’ll find out. Once you’ve tasted steak, it’s hard to get excited about hamburger.”
Vikki just smiled and headed for the kitchen. Spotting Britnell, she moved next to him and slipped an arm around his waist. He patted her hand and didn’t even look up.
Chapter 7
McGriffin wound his way past the flight line. His blue ‘vette was fourteen years old, but it handled like new. It was his cadet car — bought during his Firstie, or senior year, at the Academy. Since only first classmen were allowed cars when he was a cadet, the corvette remained special.
He turned off the air conditioner and rolled down his window, allowing the dry desert heat to roll in. The air contained a potpourri of JP-4 and engine exhaust. The smell took getting used to, but McGriffin was addicted to it. Like a hearty stout, the fragrance of flying was acquired.
An ancient HH-53 roared overhead, its blades chopping at the air as it turned for the desert. A few miles to the north a flight of helicopters circled lazily, momentarily touching down in the desert on a pickup exercise. Across the runway a deserted hangar reflected the sun back into his eyes.
Once past the flight line, the road dog-eared to the north, then back west, as it headed out to Alpha Base. At the end of the runway a camouflaged C-17B sat on the concrete apron. Red engine protectors sealed the engine inlets from the dust and wind. A series of lights surrounded the apron, glowing dimly in the bright sunlight.
The road to Alpha Base was an anomaly. McGriffin thought that after building the world’s most advanced nuclear storage area, they would have spent a small percentage of the total funds on a decent road. Instead, the two-lane road wound around the desert as if designed by a drunk.
The mammoth crater opened up before him. Five miles across and half a mile deep, the crater had a dirt floor with bunkers spread randomly throughout the area.
He tried to count the bunkers, but quickly lost interest as more and more of the concrete shelters came into view. Four fences curled around the circumference, clearly demarcating the nuclear storage facility from the rest of the base.
It seemed barren, almost as if he were alone out there; but after last night’s display of readiness, McGriffin shuddered to think what would happen if anyone would be crazy enough to infiltrate the fences.
As he turned into the Alpha Base parking lot, he glanced at his watch: 1500. If the tour took any longer than an hour, it was AAFES burgers for dinner again.
He positioned his cap before climbing from the car. A huge sign directed him toward a building marked in-processing. Set partially inside the fenced area, it appeared to be the only entrance to Alpha Base besides the main gate.
A young officer stood when McGriffin entered the building. Decked out in smartly pressed battle fatigues, subdued insignia, and bloused boots, the man extended a mammoth ebony hand.
“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Lieutenant Curtis Fellows, shift commander.” Fellows wore an infectious grin. Towering over McGriffin, he seemed the type to ride herd on a few hundred enlisted men.
“Glad to meet you, Lieutenant. Thanks for arranging the tour on such short notice.”
“No problem, sir. Chief Zolley sent your clearance over. As soon as we’ve run you through the wringer, we’ll get you down in the Pit.”
“The wringer?”
“Part of our security measures.” Fellows swung the door open. A small, featureless room lay inside. “When you’re in the room, just do what you’re told, sir. I’ll meet you on the other side.”
McGriffin straightened his shoulders and walked into the chamber. As the door clicked shut behind him, McGriffin noticed a mirror on one of the walls. A panel slid open directly under the mirror. One-way mirror, McGriffin thought. Nothing too unusual yet.
A disembodied voice came from the panel. “Step up to the panel and look into the mirror.” McGriffin stared, as directed. A moment passed, then the voice announced, “Please step to your left.
A door slid open, opposite from the direction he’d entered. Stepping out into a vacant hallway, McGriffin waited for Fellows.