With motions that suggested an intimate knowledge of his equipment, MacDonald moved his callused right hand across the podium's control panel, causing the room to gradually darken. A sixteen-by-twenty-foot back-lit screen behind the podium lit up with a colorful graphics display.
"As you can see from the first slide," MacDonald said, "the training facilities are located a hundred yards east of the main cabin and are connected to that cabin by three underground tunnels, two of which are reserved for utilities and supply transport. The third tunnel will be your access route to and from the facilities."
MacDonald used a small hand-held transmitter to advance to the next slide.
"The facility is constructed around a two-story, twelve- inch, steel box-beam frame. The walls are eight inches thick, constructed of precast tilt-up slabs of hardened and reinforced concrete that are welded to the frame. The floors are similarly constructed, but are twelve inches thick and have much more extensive reinforcement. The lower level has sixteen feet of clearance from floor to ceiling, and the upper level has thirty-two. The top ceiling is made up of thirty-six inches of reinforced concrete and six inches of armor plating. The entire facility is buried beneath twelve feet of soil.
"In effect," MacDonald smiled, "we have provided you with a facility that is virtually impervious to anything short of a nuclear strike. Presumably, such precautions will not be necessary."
There was an appreciative murmur of approval and amusement from the ICER team.
The next slide had apparently been taken from the air.
"As you can see, we have constructed extensive outdoor recreational facilities above the complex. These facilities consist of four tennis courts, four sand volleyball courts, eight racquetball courts, two basketball courts, a hundred- meter pool, a clubhouse, and locker-room facilities that include showers, rest rooms, and a weight room. You will, of course, have full use of these facilities at any time.
"More important, however, aside from the connecting tunnels, the only way in or out of the Training Center is either through the access tunnel to the helipad, or the alarmed fire-escape tunnel that exits through a separate and secured underground corridor connecting the clubhouse and locker room. The escape corridors and stairwells are external to the primary building structure, and the outer blast doors are designed to withstand the impact of a HEAT-tank round. They are also coded to your fingerprints, and open only from the inside.
"Getting back to the underground portion of the Center," MacDonald said as he advanced to the next slide, "the entire training facility is based around two hexagonal conference rooms with fifty-foot side-wall dimensions that are built on top of each other. We, of course, are now in the upper conference room."
The next slide showed a blowup of the lower floor, with subdivided rectangles of varying lengths radiating out from all six sides of the two central six-sided rooms.
"Here, on the lower floor," MacDonald went on, using a light beam as a pointer, "we have the command-and-control room, armory, machine shop, ammo bunkers, mechanical room, secured tunnel access to the main cabin, instructors' quarters, student quarters, medical facilities, multimedia room, emergency food and supply storage, rest-room and shower facilities, gym and dojo.
"By the way," MacDonald said, diverting from his planned lecture for a moment, "you will be moving this evening from your rooms in the main cabin to the underground student quarters. Your new rooms will be comparable in terms of creature comforts and, of course, more secure. As you surely know, your presence here at the Center is a closely guarded secret. Should you want to wander about in the local wilderness or avail yourselves of the recreational facilities up on top, you will be provided with appropriate Park Service clothing.
"Now then," MacDonald said, returning to his lecture as he advanced the projector once again, "as you can see, on the upper floor we have three Hogan's Alleys with extensive robotics, one commercially oriented, one residential, and one designed to simulate an assault on a small mountain cabin.
"In addition," MacDonald went on, using his light pointer, "we also have two fixed-wing and two helicopter simulators, a chemical-weapons compound, a fifty-yard pistol range, a hundred-yard small-arms range with multiple weather and lighting conditions, and a five-hundred-yard-long gun range with variable cross-wind capability.
"And if that isn't sufficient, ladies and gentlemen," MacDonald said as he turned off the projector and brought the room lights back up, "we will be happy to take you outdoors into several thousand acres of our nation's finest wilderness and see what we can do to make your lives both miserable and interesting."
Standing ramrod straight, MacDonald looked around the room one last time. "That completes my introductory presentation. Are there any questions?"
Gerd Maas raised his hand.
"You described the physical security of this facility in great detail, but you did not indicate the presence of any other security personnel."
"Yes, that's correct," MacDonald nodded. "In view of your 'need-to- know' security requirements, it was decided that we should try to keep the number of personnel at the Center to a minimum."
"I would not argue with that decision," Maas said. "However-"
"As you may recall from the slides," MacDonald interrupted, "the instructors' quarters are adjacent to the secured tunnel access. My staff and I have agreed to take responsibility for security. Quite frankly, Mr. Maas-" the burly command sergeant major smiled, "-if the six of us and the twelve members of the ICER assault group cannot deal with any security problem that might arise at Whitehorse Cabin, I think we have no business being here in the first place."
Maas nodded his head in apparent agreement.
"Any other questions?"
The tall, blond-haired man sitting next to Maas raised his hand.
MacDonald immediately recognized the man as Gunter Aben, the one who had been described in the files as a born killing machine. Barely controllable. Tends to be malicious under stress. Known to be adverse to discipline. Extreme caution advised.
Clarence MacDonald had been looking forward to working with Gunter Aben ever since he had read his file.
"Yes, Mr. Aben?"
"Only one question, Sergeant Major. Would it be possible to see a demonstration of your robotics this evening?"
MacDonald smiled in spite of himself.
"We can do better than that. If you and the other members of your group will follow Sergeant Brickard down to the armory"-he looked at his watch-"in about forty-five minutes, we will formally introduce you to a few of the more devious and persistent members of our training staff."
Chapter Nineteen
Eight?
Awareness came slowly, as if the distant pinpoint of light he had been watching for quite some time was now trying to lure him up and away from the all-encompassing darkness.
He did not understand why the number eight was suddenly so important.
There was a sense-almost a suggestion coming from somewhere in the darkness-that it was the light itself that he had been trying to avoid all this time; but he couldn't accept that, because it looked so warm and comforting and inviting, drifting up there above him like that.
As if it wanted to help.
Or to warn him of some incomprehensible danger, of some creature that was at his heels and would overtake him at any moment if he wasn't careful. Which made no sense at all, because it hadn't moved and they hadn't spelled it right and he felt perfectly warm and safe and comfortable right where he was.
He closed his eyes to make it all go away. But then he discovered that his eyes wouldn't close, so he continued to watch the glowing pinpoint as it began to grow-both in size and in intensity-until it seemed to take on dimension… and extension… and tone.