The Protector

4

Prescott entered slowly, with even greater wonder than when he'd seen the camouflage net retract to reveal the helicopter pad.

A hallway led to a large living area on the right. The floor was polished oak. The furnishings were leather. The walls were an off-white, covered with bookshelves, impressionistic paintings, and a large fireplace.

"This is a reinforced-concrete dome covered with earth," Duncan said. "We squared off the dome's interior walls for convenience. Because of the building's strong insulating structure, the temperature tends to be a uniform seventy-two degrees in both summer and winter, with a little help from a fireplace in each room."

"Solar panels and batteries provide the electricity," Chad said. "A backup generator kicks in if necessary."

"The drinking water comes from a well under the bunker, so it can't be poisoned. On top, sunlight comes through a ventilation shaft and gets reflected by a system of mirrors that distribute the sunlight, so the rooms seem to have windows," Tracy said. "It's one of the most energy-efficient buildings imaginable."

"But with the entrance controlled electronically, if the power fails, we'll be trapped," Prescott said.

"There's a manual override on the door. Plus a second way out." Duncan pointed toward a metal door at the end of the corridor. "It has a knob, and a lever for a dead-bolt lock. But on the outside, there's nothing-no knob, no key slot, no way to pick the lock and get in."

Prescott breathed a little easier.

"Is anybody hungry?" Chad rubbed his hands together.

"That depends," Tracy said. "Who's doing the cooking? You?"

"None other."

"In that case, I'm starved."

Chad had a reputation for being an impressive cook. "Mr. Prescott, are you a vegetarian? Do you have food allergies?"

"I can eat anything."

Cavanaugh silently concurred, remembering the shelves of carbohydrate-rich food at the warehouse.

"Beef Stroganoff coming up," Chad said.

"Easy on the cream this time," Tracy said.

"Hey, if you're going to put restrictions on a genius at work…"

"I'm trying to watch my figure."

"I'm watching your figure, too."

"Can you believe the way this guy talks to me?"

"While they sort this out," Duncan told Prescott, "why don't you get settled. If you enjoy tobacco, we have a room with various smoking materials."

"No." Prescott looked horrified by the thought.

"In that case, your room-smoke-free-is the third on the left in this corridor. I imagine a hot shower and some clothes that fit you would be welcome. There's a bar. Satellite television. A sauna. You've been through a lot. Perhaps you can relieve the strain enough to take a nap."