The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened. Another security desk with another soldier waited. Both officers presented their identification and signed another logbook.
Colonel Thunder led him along the corridor beneath buzzing fluorescent lights. They came to an office door, which she unlocked using a good old-fashioned key.
"You said, ‘welcome to Hell Hole.’ What is that supposed to mean?"
"This place," she said as she led him inside and closed the door hard behind them. "It’s called ‘Hell Hole’ by everyone who’s served here. I’m starting to see why."
She sat behind the desk, checked her watch, and went on, "I’m expecting General Borman any moment now. He might fill you in on some more details, but in the meantime you’ve been cleared for full disclosure."
"I've been told to take my orders directly from Borman. Normally he's my boss's boss."
They shared a chuckle of understanding as she remarked, "There's definitely no shortage of bosses in the army these days."
"In the meantime, why Hell Hole?"
Lieutenant Colonel Thunder leaned forward and spoke to him across the desktop.
"First things first. Major Gant, you are here for two reasons. To start with, you have experience dealing with unconventional enemies. Quite frankly, I’m surprised they don’t have a better name for that but I guess it sort of covers the range of what you handle."
He said, "I am certain that someone at the Pentagon spends every weekday from nine until five researching an appropriate acronym. Until they have completed that project, I suppose we have to stick with something basic."
"I suppose so. As I said, I’ve been fully and completely briefed on your unit and activities. I know about Arrows in ’04, I know about Manitoba, and I know about your party in the Everglades a few mornings ago. I also know your history as an operator before you got into the fancy stuff. Impressive, really. Like I said, I did your psych evals a few years back. At that time I didn’t know the particulars of Archangel. It wasn’t until I came here that I got the full scoop."
He quipped, "Welcome to my world."
"Quite frankly, if I had heard about your adventures a few weeks ago I’d have been impressed and possibly floored with the implications, but I’ll leave that to the scientists and the philosophers. In the meantime, you need to believe me when I tell you that all of your experience can’t prepare you for this place."
"You said there were two reasons I am here. The first, I guess, is because I know enough to believe in the boogeyman. What is the second?"
"I’m not exactly sure how to put this," she said, searching for the right words. "Let’s say that you’ve got a nice, ordered, disciplined mind."
"So does your average computer. Where you going with this?"
"The reason I’m in command of this base is because of my experience with PsyOps, and I don't mean your run-of-the-mill white, gray, or black stuff."
Gant knew that basic psychological operations used by the army ranged from press releases to media plants to bull horns and leaflets, all of which were classified as white, gray, or black. Apparently her level of involvement was something more complex.
Thunder went on, "You could say my work was to PsyOps what your work is to the infantry. I’m here because my training allows me to keep a clear head, to stay focused, to resist … outside influences. And to see those influences affecting others."
He waited for more of an answer. When it was not forthcoming he shook his head and said, "Wait a second — what? What are you saying? What influences?"
"Remember I told you we have four and one-half sublevels? I wasn’t kidding."
"I didn’t think you were. I’ve seen plenty of—"
"Yes," she interrupted, waving her hand nonchalantly. "Yes, you’ve been to your share of laboratories and research facilities where the genie gets out of the bottle and creates a mess. This one’s a little different."
"With all due respect, Colonel, that’s what they tell me every time. What was it this time? A bio weapon that went haywire? A new virus that broke out of its test tube?"
"To answer your question, we don’t know. But what we do know is that the containment doors slammed shut and everyone who’s gone in has never been heard from again."
She settled in her chair and let that sink in. Gant, however, was not impressed.
"You say you know my background. Then you also know I’ve heard that line a lot."
"Here’s the kicker, Major. Those containment doors slammed shut twenty years ago."
Gant sat still, his eyes a little wider than a moment before.
She explained, "There’s been a quarantine that starts on sublevel five since June 22, 1992. People have gone in, but nobody has come out. It’s as if everything beyond the containment door just vanished into some big hole. Around here they call it a Hell Hole."
The major said nothing.
"I mentioned that you were here because of your disciplined mind. Try this one on for size: the guy who had this job before me got shot dead trying to break that quarantine from the outside because something got in his head and made him believe his daughter was trapped on the other side."
"What do you mean, some thing?"
"But that’s nothing compared to what happened in the past.Three weeks after the containment protocols took effect, nearly half the soldiers on base tried to forcibly break quarantine, making sublevel five an absolute war zone before they were stopped. In 1994 a couple of scientific observers went nuts and tried to bust in before they were shot dead. The week after 9/11 four more grunts were nerve gassed by the automatic security systems to keep them from opening the containment door. The list goes on."
Major Gant asked, "What? Why? What are these influences?"
"No one knows, Major. At least, no one is telling. But since 1992 there have been sporadic extrasensory influences on base personnel. Influences that are best resisted by a well-focused, disciplined mind. Before we go any further I have to tell you to watch your men for any unusual behavior. That’s why you were brought in first, so you could understand and prepare."
"What is the cause?"
"That’s something I wish I knew. I can tell you that it all started during an experiment. The head researcher called for an expanded Red Lab containment and that’s the last word ever heard from the quarantined zone."
Gant knew that a "Red Lab" was a designation used for the most dangerous and sensitive experiments; experiments that might need drastic containment measures in the event of an accident. When the researcher called for an "expanded" Red Lab containment that meant more than the containment of his area, as if whatever required containing had already escaped from ground zero.
Gant said, "Of course, it’s always a scientist and it’s always some half-assed experiment. What was it this time? A new chemical weapon? Was he looking for a way to build a better hydrogen bomb?"
Colonel Thunder answered, "Nothing so dramatic. That’s the puzzle. The researcher used the Red Lab because it was the only area available at the time. Apparently the experiment had to do with some subatomic particle research, sort of sifting through an atom."
"Sifting through an atom? What was he looking for?"
"God."
She paused and they looked at each other for a very long moment. They saw something familiar in each other’s eyes — the look of someone who does the dirty work for a master. The look of someone who had spent his life in the dark, only to be let loose — on a leash — to fetch a stick when it suited one of the guys with the stars on their shoulders.
Thunder broke the silence with a wry smile. "In all honesty, Major, I don’t think they’ve told me everything even though I’m supposed to be running the show here. But what I just told you is true. I’ve read the reports. Let me tell you that you’ll believe it, too, when you read the reports, and especially when you get clearance to go down and see that damned door for yourself."