The van raced down a hill, then up the other side. As she rounded the top, the Pit opened up in front of her. Individual lights demarcating storage bunkers shone with a ghostly yellow tinge. High-pressure 400-watt sodium lights splashed their glare around the four fences surrounding Alpha Base. The main entrance looked like a stage setting for a Hollywood movie: strobes and red and yellow flickering lights flashed crazily off the metal mesh enveloping the front gate. Gargantuan vehicles moved inside the complex, slow, dark, and of uncertain shape.
Vikki stared, mesmerized by the sight. Alpha Base took on an entirely different character at night. Instead of the laid-back desert storage facility, it resembled a waiting behemoth, growling, eyes flashing, waiting to devour anything that dared pass its way.
She looked down. Her foot held the accelerator to the floor — she was traveling close to eighty. She let up on the pedal, slowing to the speed limit. The motion calmed her, forcing her thoughts away from Alpha Base. It was one thing to meet Britnell on time. It was another thing to be stopped speeding. She might not be so lucky knowing one of the security policemen this time.
She slowed further as she approached Alpha Base’s main entrance. A guard started to step out of the guard shack when she turned left for the picnic area. He watched her as she drove past.
If Britnell’s information was correct, security had tracked her once she was within five miles of Alpha Base. That corresponded to when she rounded the end of the runway. As long as she did nothing threatening, she’d be left alone. She wondered how conspicuous the van would be at the picnic area.
Ten vehicles were parked along the field with their lights turned out. Vikki drove the van to the opposite side of the field, turned off the ignition, and relaxed. Radios played softly. Once in a while the red taillights of a car would blink.
Giggling came from the general area. Kids parking, she thought. That makes it even better. Who’d think of questioning a van parked at one of Wendover’s necking spots? She fit right in with the military brats living on base with their parents.
The minutes passed. Nine twenty-five. Renault was landing in an hour. It was at least ten minutes to the deserted hangar at the end of the runway where she was to rendezvous with Harding and the C-130. Everything was going to go whether she showed up or not.
After another five minutes she started the engine. Where was Britnell? She felt sick to her stomach. All that work and the little jerk didn’t show. She had to warn Harding — if Britnell didn’t show, they wouldn’t have the IFF and were as good as dead. She jerked the van into gear and started off.
Approaching the entrance, she slammed on her brakes to avoid hitting a car—
A military four-wheel-drive — a Ford Bronco— pulled into the parking lot. Britnell!
The Bronco pulled up beside her. Britnell emerged. He looked carefully around. They were far enough away from the kids so as not to bring attention to themselves.
As he approached the van, she got another attack of the “ifs.” Everything was fine: if Britnell was alone; if she could make it back undetected — the “ifs” piled up even faster as he reached for the door.
“Hi, babe. I ditched Clayborn for a couple of hours.”
Vikki didn’t answer. She leaned into him with a long kiss. “I want to do something exciting tonight.” Vikki held his head in her hands. She kissed him hard. “Your Bronco. In the desert. Now.”
“You’re on.” Britnell jumped from the van and strode to the Bronco.
As they climbed in, Vikki leaned over and ran a hand over his chest. “Hurry.”
Britnell jerked the Bronco into gear. A wide grin covered his face. “It’s only been a day since I’ve seen you, babe.”
“It seems like a year.”
Britnell turned toward the main entrance. “Anywhere in particular?”
“Somewhere back off the main road. I want to get off while looking at Alpha Base. Where my man works.”
“You got it.”
Vikki smiled in the dark and leaned back in her seat. She stole a glance at her watch. Nine thirty-six — plenty of time.
Britnell turned onto the main road. They bounced as he floored the accelerator. The road whipped by. He looked over and caught her smiling. He patted her thigh. “Man, am I glad to see you. We’ve been going crazy doing one exercise after another. You’d think they’d back off a little. We’re guarding nukes, you know — not a bunch of airplanes. They’re not going to get up and fly away.”
Vikki pointed at a dirt cutoff, barely visible in his headlights. “How about there?”
Britnell responded by slamming on the brakes. He switched off the lights and turned. He drove faster as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark. Sage and cactus scratched against the Bronco, making a din that nearly drowned out the engine. Vikki yelled over the bouncing.
“What about those sensors you showed me on that map. Aren’t you afraid of hitting them?”
Britnell patted the IFF. “When we get close to one, this baby will sing out. Don’t worry. The worst that could happen is that we’ll run over one and they’ll send out a repair crew to fix it.”
Vikki was slammed against her seat, then lifted suddenly into the air as they ricocheted over a mound. Britnell spun the Bronco around until they faced Alpha Base. The lights were three miles away, but they still looked impressive.
Britnell turned off the engine. His eyes ran up and down Vikki’s body. “How’s this?”
“Perfect. It’s just what I had in mind.”
Britnell’s eyes lit up. “Oh?”
She smiled coyly. “Let’s play a game.”
He wet his lips. “Sure. Sure.”
“Give me your gun, and get undressed.”
He started unbuttoning his shirt. “What?”
“Come on.” She playfully pushed him against the side of the Bronco. “Your gun. You afraid, big guy?”
With his shirt halfway off, he handed her the pistol. “Be careful—”
Vikki giggled and ran the cold metal around his chest. She made tiny swirls, growing to ever larger circles. Leaning over, she gently kissed his neck. “How does that feel?”
“Weird. You know, with the gun …”
She laughed again. “Exciting, isn’t it?” Britnell finished taking off his shirt and started unbuckling his pants.
Vikki said gently, “That’s it.” Slowly she pushed his head forward, running the cold metal up his side. She set her mouth. The times he’d pawed her, thinking only of himself … he’d self-destruct on booze if he continued. She wouldn’t have to do anything at all to make him kill himself.
She felt a sudden twinge. If something happened and the raid was called off, would she be implicated in his death? Memories of Livermore flooded through her, Anthony heaving those bombs …
She ran the gun up and down his neck.
Britnell started to laugh. His head was underneath the steering wheel, his back parallel to the seat, and his chest was against his knees.
With her free hand Vikki pulled Britnell’s jacket over his head.
“Hey, what’s this?”
“Here’s where it gets good, babe.” Vikki brought the gun up, and quickly wrapping the barrel with his shirt, pulled on the trigger. A blast filled the Bronco.
Britnell jerked, then was quiet. His arms went slack, and what was left of his head fell to the steering wheel.
Vikki reached over his body and opened the door. He tumbled out onto the desert.
The Bronco was remarkably clean of carnage — the .22 drilled a neat hole into his skull, exiting the front of his head and leaving a gaping wound. His jacket absorbed most of the blood. Little evidence existed inside the jeep of Britnell’s death.