CHAPTER 61

There couldn’t have been a greater contrast between the second silo site and the one Lambert had turned into luxury condos. There was an old chain-link fence, but there was no perimeter security. The road into the site was barely graveled and in poor condition. From here they couldn’t even see the entrance to the silo.

There was no sign that anyone was around.

“Could the residue you saw on those work boots be from that gravel?” asked Robie.

“Pull up a little bit,” said Reel.

He did so, and she climbed out of the car with the rag she had used to take a sample from the boots.

She knelt down over the gravel and dabbed it with the cloth. She climbed back into the car and used her phone light to compare the marks.

“It’s sort of gravelly but it’s not the same, Robie.” She sniffed the fresh sample. “And there’s no chemical smell.”

“Where would there be gravel with a chemical smell around here?”

“I don’t know. Let’s park the truck behind those trees and have a look around.”

After leaving the truck hidden, they scaled the fence and dropped down onto the other side.

There were no sounds, no lights, no one.

They skittered forward, keeping low to the ground.

“Why would you pay eight hundred thousand for this place and do nothing with it?” asked Robie.

“When Lambert paid half that for his site and did something with it to make money,” added Reel.

They made their way forward staying parallel to the gravel road, and about a quarter of a mile later they crossed a small knoll and there it was.

“Blast door straight ahead,” whispered Reel.

Robie stopped and nodded. He slipped his night optics out and took in a full view of the area in front of them.

“Looks deserted,” he said. “The gravel hasn’t been disrupted. I don’t think a vehicle’s been along here.”

“Then why buy it in the first place?” said Reel. “If not to use it somehow. And if you’re going to rehab it, you have to go inside.”

“And there would be lots of evidence of that sort of activity.”

“Maybe there’s another way into the place.”

He looked at her incredulously. “Another way into an Atlas missile site? Doesn’t that sort of defeat the purpose?”

“I didn’t say it had always been there. Maybe whoever bought it made another entrance somehow,” pointed out Reel.

Robie pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?” asked Reel.

“Trying to find a back door.”

He phoned the Agency again and made his request.

When he clicked off Reel said, “You think another entrance is possible then?”

He looked around. “I think anything in this godforsaken place is possible.”

Ten minutes later his phone buzzed. Robie listened, asked a few questions, and then clicked off. He turned to Reel. “Let’s go find Blue Man.”

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