Adonia noticed that Victoria Doyle crossed her arms and frowned at her ex-lover. Now what was that all about? Why couldn’t van Dyckman remember something as important as an override code, and why should Victoria be reacting with such obvious disapproval?
Painted on the concrete floor, a yellow arc marked the path of the heavy metal door. Adonia and the others stepped out of the way as a sharp alert buzz rang out, echoing in the tunnel. The door rotated open.
The interior of the portal contained controls to open the much larger vault door, two desks with high-backed chairs on wheels, a small table, a sink, coffeemaker, a file cabinet, and even a one-person bathroom. An identical mesh-embedded door on the far side of the enclosed guardroom led to the opposite side of the tunnel, and the lower level of Hydra Mountain. Although not spacious, the portal was sufficient for them to shelter in place for several hours. Adonia relaxed slightly.
Harris’s voice now came from an intercom inside the portal. “Is everyone inside? I can’t shut the door until everyone has entered.”
As Adonia began to usher them into the cramped room, Garibaldi paused. His brow furrowed as he looked up at the obvious cameras in the ceiling. “Why do you need to ask? Aren’t you watching us?”
“The cameras stopped functioning. All we have are IR and other nontraditional sensors. You’re lucky the intercom runs through the backup system with the lights.”
“I’ll bet your toilets leak, too,” Garibaldi grumbled.
“We can discuss it later, when we’re out of here.” Adonia crowded the team members into the shielded portal. “Come on, everybody inside.”
“Just don’t let anyone retreat up the tunnel,” Harris warned. “If motion sensors see you going the wrong direction, the defensive systems will reengage — and now that you’re deeper in the facility, more serious legacy countermeasures will take priority.”
Garibaldi lifted an eyebrow as he crowded up against the file cabinet. “More serious than getting fried by microwaves?”
“Exponentially more serious,” Harris answered. “The millimeter active denial is our newest nonlethal system. Kinder and gentler. The old DoD weapons countermeasures expressly allow the use of deadly force.”
20
Deadly force.
Adonia felt a chill, although the revelation made sense. Back in the day, lethal countermeasures would be justified against anyone trying to steal nuclear warheads, but no one could run off with a giant concrete cask of hazardous waste. And why would they want to? She couldn’t imagine how some bad actor would even attempt it. Deadly force was no longer warranted, by any means.
But lethal legacy countermeasures were apparently still in place in Hydra Mountain. What was van Dyckman thinking? Even worse, the defensive systems couldn’t tell the difference between a genuine threat and a few people who happened to be trapped through no fault of their own.
After the insanity that had already occurred, Adonia had little confidence in anything working as it should. “Everybody, crowd together and let’s get this door closed. Quick.” She urged the last of them into the small room designed to accommodate two people. “Now sit tight. We can tell stories around the campfire until the reboot is over.” Seeing them all safe, she let out an unconscious sigh of relief.
Shawn spoke to her quietly enough that the others didn’t hear, but he sounded deeply disturbed. She had seen that contemplative look on his face many times. He said, “There should never be an automated system that uses deadly force.”
“The defenses were put in place to protect live nukes,” she pointed out. “Harsh language wouldn’t be a sufficient deterrent.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have a problem with a professionally trained armed guard who is authorized to shoot to kill under extreme circumstances. DoD countermeasures always have a human in the loop, a person on the trigger. Is Valiant Locksmith so important that it justifies lethal automated systems with no oversight? The military doesn’t kill without human oversight. It’s a fail-safe: someone has to make the call. Deadly force shouldn’t be on autopilot, especially not for spent fuel rods.”
He frowned back down the tunnel. “As we’ve noticed, automated systems aren’t always reliable.”
Adonia knew he was right. From the National War College she remembered that the military was authorized to use deadly force under Title 10 of the U.S. Code. Even drones weren’t completely autonomous, especially those carrying Hellfire missiles; someone had to operate them. “Land mines are the closest I can think of to automated killing machines.”
“And land mines are now forbidden by international law,” Shawn said. “But Hydra Mountain has even more deadly systems in place to protect nuclear waste?”
Victoria interrupted, showing clear impatience as she pulled on the handle, trying to draw the heavy guard chamber door closed, but it wouldn’t budge. “We need to seal the portal and hunker down. Right now we could all use a safe spot.”
Pulaski took a few careful steps on his twisted ankle, then slumped into one of the two swivel chairs. “I’m much better now, thank you.”
Harris’s voice came over the tinny intercom speaker. “IR has all six of you in the portal. Stand back, we’re closing the door from here.” Seconds later the metal door slowly rotated shut, humming on its pistons until it seated into the jamb. “You’ll be safe there until the systems have recycled and the lockdown is lifted. Four hours and twenty-four minutes while we bring up the various components one at a time.”
“Anybody have a deck of cards?” Garibaldi asked.
“I have a solitaire game on my cell phone,” the Senator said, grinning slyly.
Adonia depressed the black intercom button. “Rob, what other kinds of defensive measures might be activated out there?”
“None, so long as you don’t leave the safety of the portal.” The intercom remained silent for a long moment. “Hydra Mountain is set up to employ escalating degrees of force, from nonlethal to near-lethal to lethal.”
“Near-lethal?” Garibaldi asked. “Well, that sounds just as delightful as lethal!”
“Near-lethal defenses are designed to thoroughly incapacitate, but they may be lethal under certain circumstances. Take knockout gas, for example. The same dose that renders a linebacker unconscious may kill a petite cheerleader. In high enough doses, the same gas may be deadly to everyone.”
Van Dyckman interrupted, “There’s nothing to worry about, as long as we just stay here.”
Harris’s voice continued through the speaker. “When activating Valiant Locksmith, we added the nonlethal systems because high-level waste is obviously not as dangerous as active warheads.”
Garibaldi frowned at the speaker. “If Hydra Mountain was decommissioned as a nuclear weapons storage facility and is only storing waste, then why haven’t you deactivated and removed the deadly countermeasures? That should have been your first order of business.”
Harris avoided the answer. “Once you’re out of there, we can discuss everything in the briefing room, under normal circumstances. For now, the simplest answer is for you just to shelter in place. I’m trying to take care of the emergency on this end, still hoping we can find a way to accelerate the reboot. The small plane crash was apparently no security threat, so we can get back to normal.”
Adonia’s main priority was to keep the group together and stay in the shelter, as instructed, but Harris’s convoluted explanation for the spectrum of lethality in Hydra Mountain just didn’t add up. She glanced at Shawn, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing. Something was going on here beyond storing nuclear waste.…