After a two-hour descent into the valley, she reached the edge of the dry lake and had a better view at the far hillsides. To her disappointment, she hadn’t found the entrance to a base. The dark shadows were not even caves but natural indentations in the mountainside. She did discover something manmade, however; nearby, a portable motion sensor sat atop a tripod.
The sensor worked by relaying invisible laser beams to other units and forming a fence or perimeter. If someone walked through the laser, breaking the relay, a camera on the tripod would activate and send the signal to a command center.
I must have been walking parallel to its beam, she surmised with a sense of relief before looking for other devices in the chain. Whatever they’re guarding around here must be beyond that sensor’s path, toward the north end of the valley.
Janice scouted her surroundings for other possible entrances to an underground facility. She knew the valley had a base. She could feel it. Yet she saw no signs of life, no noises, no movement. By focusing on the indentations in the valley wall, she had paid no attention to the north end of the valley from her position above. That was her new suspicion for an entrance location. She scoured the mesa blocking her view of the north end, looking for an up-and-over route, but it was steep and could take more time to climb than she had before daybreak. Instead she considered staying in the valley and walking north around the mesa. But that too had issues: no cover and surveillance devices. So she searched for the easiest route to climb. As she panned the night vision, a blurred movement, like a giant dog dashing into a bush, caught her attention. She attempted to focus the binoculars, but the movement had ceased. All she saw was brush.
Janice considered the falling rocks she had heard earlier and suspected someone, or something was out there, tracking her. She pulled a 22-caliber pistol from her satchel and wiggled a baby bottle nipple that was duct taped to the barrel’s end, making sure it was secure. The nipple would suppress sound from the first few shots.
On the mountainside, the camouflaged man squatted next to a second motion sensor and extended his arm, purposely passing it through the invisible laser beam.
Janice’s scanner started emitting a steady chirp, warning that a motion sensor had been triggered. The consequences were enormous and immediately nauseated her, but there wasn’t time to pause. She had been motionless and knew that whatever she’d seen on the hillside had triggered the alarm. Heading that direction wasn’t an option, and she’d already ruled out heading north along the lakebed. West would take her into the dry lakebed, promising no cover and an obvious trail of footsteps.
She stuffed the gun back in her waist satchel and slipped off her backpack to leave it behind so she could travel faster as she fled south. The water in her canteen wouldn’t get her through the next day, but that was no longer a concern.
Janice ran at a furious pace, fueled by adrenaline. Her remaining gear bounced and rattled with each step. Within minutes a thundering sound growled behind her as she fled. Glancing over her shoulder toward the sound, she stumbled, then tripped. Her momentum carried her through the air for several feet before she skidded to a stop on her right shoulder.
The intensity of the sound grew louder. As she rolled to her back she saw a monster soar over the horizon: an MH-60G Pave Hawk. A special operations helicopter with four crewmembers and room for a small strike force.
Janice scampered to her feet and bolted into a dry wash that carried water from the mountains when it rained. She stopped next to the remains of several uprooted Joshua trees and decided to bury herself, trying not to think about the critters that lived in the barren hideout.
The chopper made several passes before circling back toward the triggered motion detector, giving Janice confidence that she hadn’t been spotted. She stood and hurriedly brushed herself off before darting toward an outcrop of rocks she spotted on a hillside. She neared the rocks and realized she could hide on the backside with a good view up the valley, but as she rounded the nearest bolder, the butt of an assault rifle cracked her petite nose. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, dazed, trying to regain focus, snorting blood. A boot planted in her chest, taking air from her lungs and knocking her backwards. A soldier landed on top of her, his forearm pinning her at the throat. A second soldier pressed his knee to her cheek, rolling her face to the side and squeezing her head against the ground.
More soldiers appeared, and with swift and silent actions they vigorously grabbed and pulled at her body until she was on her belly, arms and legs hogtied in the air behind her.
A hood was slipped over Janice’s head. She felt a sharp pain in her neck. Her eyes became heavy, and the sheer darkness under the hood prevented her from realizing that her vision was starting to blur. Her eyes narrowed, becoming heavier, heavier, heavier …
As the soldiers carried their captive toward a waiting helicopter, an amber-lit craft streaked silently overhead at one thousand feet, coming out of nowhere and making an unorthodox ninety-degree downward turn, descending into the north end of the valley. As they had been trained, the soldiers paid it no attention.
CHAPTER 6
Daybreak. Papoose Valley’s human inhabitants could not see the sunrise over the Groom Mountain Range to the east. Nor could they feel the severe change in desert temperature from night to day. Temperature throughout the spider web maze of tunnels and shafts linking barracks, offices, equipment areas, meeting rooms and storage chambers remained constant in the subterranean military installation.
Also hidden underground were two hangars, ten stories high, engineering marvels worthy of praise, but lacking any due to the strict security hiding their existence. The engineers who designed the hangars didn’t know they had been built. The builders had not known entirely what they were building. And construction crews were delivered in windowless cargo planes, flown in random patterns for hours at a time to disorient them.
The military’s underground installations stemmed from circa 1950s studies in conjunction with the Army Corps of Engineers. Original plans called for protective shelters in case of nuclear war. Soon officials realized the practicality and feasibility of developing underground sites for security purposes. Studies focusing on logistics developed ways of generating power, circulating air, treating sewage and building underground reservoirs that made the facilities self-sufficient. Additional emphasis on security led to concealed shaft entrances in hillsides with camouflaged portals that were undistinguishable to passing satellites — foreign and domestic.
In a stark room, strapped to a chair at the ankles, waist and wrists, Janice waited. A loose-fitting hospital smock covered her body. Blood trailed down her chin from her swollen nose, gathering in random puddles on her chest. Then the door opened and she recognized the suit-wearing man from the bar as he invaded the room, steam rising from two mugs he carried.
“I brought you some coffee,” Damien Owens said as kindly as his raspy voice allowed.
She responded in a bitter, nasal tone, “Are you supposed to be the good cop?”
“Right now I’m just a man offering you coffee, but I commend your knowledge of American colloquialisms.” Standing over her, he stared momentarily with a contrived grin, then gently poured coffee from one mug across her chest. The thin smock offered no resistance to the burning liquid and grew transparent against her skin. She let out a brief cry before closing her eyes and internalizing the pain.
“You were so comfortable at the bar with my friend Ben Skyles when you poured that drink on your shirt. I want you to be comfortable around me, too.” He pulled a chair in front of her and sat, but she turned her head away. Holding his hand near her throbbing nose, he said, “Don’t make me force you to look at me. I like studying eyes and facial gestures. They tell far more truths than words.”