Harding staggered to the front of the bunker. He placed a hand on the massive steel door and wearily dropped his rifle. “I think we tracked the last of them down. We lost only five of our men, but we must have gotten twenty of the fascists—”
“I told you to watch outside the fence. They could be mounting a counterattack any time now. And you lost five men doing it!”
Harding scowled. “Yeah, that’s right. What about it?”
Renault set his mouth. “Those five men were ten percent of my force. And that ten percent may be all that’s standing between us and the rest of the Alpha Base. The next time I order you to do something, you do it — understand?”
“No I don’t. Just who the hell do you think is in charge here, Colonel? Your orders are to assist us.” Harding stood toe to toe with Renault. Neither man gave in.
Renault slowly balled his hand into a fist, then released the tension. He took a step backward. “Very well, Dr. Harding. But may I suggest that any further incursions first be cleared by me.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “My men may become confused if they hear conflicting orders.”
“Just make sure there are not any conflicting orders, Colonel,” Harding spat out.
Renault twirled. He nodded to Vikki. She stood with a rifle covering Lieutenant Fellows. He knelt beside the young lieutenant and said gently, “One more time: how do you open the bunker?”
“Fellows, Curtis L., First Lieutenant, United States Air Force, 765-23-9901.”
“All right, I’ve had enough.” He jerked his rifle up and pointed to one of his men. “Get the youngest airman and bring him here. That one.” He motioned with his head to one of the five security policemen lying facedown in the sand.
Renault’s men jerked the young security policeman to his feet. The man’s face was flushed. He breathed rapidly; a wet stain soaked his camouflaged battle-dress uniform. They shoved him toward Renault.
Renault knelt before Lieutenant Fellows. He spoke softly. “You’ve got a choice. Either get us into the bunkers or we start shooting your men. Right here, one man every minute. And if we kill everyone, we round up some more. It’s your decision — you’ve got one minute.”
Renault tapped his watch. Fellows remained mute, staring into the ground. Vikki shuffled her weight from one foot to the other.
“Thirty seconds.” Renault glanced at Fellows. The lieutenant didn’t budge.
The seconds passed. “Fifty … fifty-five … one minute. Well?” Renault looked up from his watch.
When Fellows refused to answer, Renault searched out Harding. “Dr. Harding — would you care to do the honors?”
Harding stepped up to the young airman. Vikki took an uncertain step back. Harding whipped a pistol up to the security policeman’s head. A bullet exploded, spraying fine red mist over Fellows. Renault turned back to Lieutenant Fellows and said, “Well?” The lieutenant stared at the ground, shaking. After no reply, Renault snapped, “Bring the next youngest.”
Harding blinked, emotionless. He stood examining the pistol, running his hands over the barrel.
He’s a changed man, Vikki thought. Did he still care as much about the nukes as he did about killing people? The deaths that night — first Britnell, because it was necessary; then those high school kids, because they might tell; and now these security policemen, because they had information they wouldn’t divulge.
Renault’s men threw the body to the side. As they brought the next security policeman forward, the airman started sobbing.
Fellows squeezed shut his eyes, his body racked with shaking.
Again Renault knelt. “Sixty seconds …
“Thirty…”
“Fifty … fifty-five—”
“Stop—stop!” Fellows’s body grew slack. He shook his head, crying. “Please. No more. No more — they’re … my men.”
Renault straightened, his rifle pointing to the ground. “Bring the lieutenant.” Vikki and Harding followed Renault to the bunker to where a metal case was embedded next to the steel door. Fellows was shoved toward them. Renault shouldered his rifle and stepped up to the metal case.
“All right, Lieutenant. Does this contain the mechanism to open the bunker?” Fellows nodded stiffly. “Good. That’s what I thought. Open it.”
Fellows wet his lips. “I … can’t.”
“Lieutenant,” said Renault wearily. “This time I’ll give you no time to decide. Either open the bunker or your men will die.”
“Wait — I … I’ll open it. I’m not trying to pull anything. It’s just that I can’t do it without the keys.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Harding stepped up to the box and smashed his rifle butt into it. Another blow opened the metal door. Harding peered into the box and whirled. “There’s no keying device in here! What are you trying to pull?”
Vikki stepped up. “Anthony—”
Harding stopped abruptly.
Renault raised his brows at Vikki. He directed his question to the lieutenant. “Well?”
Fellows answered steadily, “It’s a hologram. The keying mechanism uses two holograph interference devices to complete the connections necessary for opening the door—”
“Oh, shit.” Harding banged his hand against the box.
“Shut up and let him finish,” barked Renault.
Fellows wet his lips. “Both holographs are in the Alpha Base command post. I can’t open the bunker without them.”
Renault turned and squinted in the distance. The Alpha Base command post lay in ruins at the top of the crater, a half mile away. The rest of the buildings in the complex still belched smoke. Renault took a second making up his mind.
“All right, tie up the remaining airmen — unlace their boots and use their shoelaces. When you’re done, strike out for the command post — we’ll be around the closest bunkers after we get the holographs from the command post. Any questions?” Looking around, Renault deferred to Harding. “Your choice, Doctor. Do you want to help tie them up, or come with us. It doesn’t matter to me.”
Harding slapped another cartridge into his rifle. “Let’s go. I’ll cover you.”
Renault pushed Fellows along after assigning one of his men to take the point. Vikki stepped alongside Renault as they started off. Keeping close to the bunkers, they tried to make it to the command post as fast as they could without actually running.
The hijacked helicopters still hovered above Alpha Base, darting in between bunkers as they ferreted out security policemen. The crafts provided tangible proof of their dominance over Alpha Base.
They traversed the half mile in six minutes. Vikki was out of breath by the time they peered at the command post from behind a bunker. The building was less than fifty yards away. No guards were visible.
Mortar shells whizzed over their heads and exploded every thirty seconds — Renault’s men were still keeping the remaining security policemen away. Renault knelt, keeping a hand around Lieutenant Fellows’ arm.
“Ms. Osborrn, as soon as we’re back, sound ‘Recall’ and direct the choppers to land. Order them to land deep inside Alpha Base so any snipers outside the base won’t have a shot. We’ll be back shortly.” He turned to Fellows. “All right, Lieutenant. You had better not be pulling my leg on this.”
“What’s to prevent you from killing me the second you get the key?”
“Nothing — except my promise to you as one officer to another.”
Fellows snorted. “I wish I could believe you.”
“You don’t have any other choice, now, do you?” Renault shoved him forward with his weapon. “Move it, Lieutenant.”
Fellows stumbled forward, then started trotting.