He blinked as the truth suddenly sprang from the background like the hidden image in a stereographic puzzle. The valley floor had at first glance appeared desolate and empty – but as the plane drew closer the giveaway parallel lines of human activity were revealed. A runway ran along it, partly hidden beneath sand and dust. The concrete had apparently been made from that same surrounding sand, the colours matching almost perfectly.
Such camouflage wouldn’t conceal it from the infrared vision of satellites, though. That probably meant it had been built before they came into common use. Some kind of Cold War facility?
They would find out soon enough. The Lear adjusted its course for the final descent, lining up with the long runway. ‘This’ll be bumpy,’ Abbot announced, ‘so hold on tight.’
Nina’s nails were already digging into the leather of her armrests. ‘If I hold on any tighter, I’ll merge with the damn chair!’
The pilot had, if anything, underplayed the roughness of the touchdown, bumps and cracks in the dusty concrete making the jet judder like a bicycle riding over cobblestones. ‘Christ, I think I’ve lost a filling,’ Eddie said as the shaking eased to merely uncomfortable levels.
Nina took in the view outside. ‘Where are we going?’ she wondered aloud. There were no buildings along the runway, just the rising valley sides. ‘I don’t see anything here.’
‘Must be something,’ said Eddie. ‘If there isn’t, this is a really, really expensive version of the Mafia taking people out into the desert to kill them.’
‘Thanks, Eddie. You’re always so reassuring.’ But there were still no structures in sight . . .
The answer came as the Lear slowed to taxiing speed and made a turn, bringing the cliff at the end of the valley into view. Set into the rock at its bottom was a door.
A very large one.
It took Nina a moment to take in its sheer scale. An opening at least three hundred feet across and sixty feet high had been blasted out of the mountain. ‘Jesus,’ she gasped. ‘That’s a big-ass door.’
‘You should see their draught excluder,’ said Eddie, impressed.
The jet came to a stop. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Abbot, ‘welcome to Silent Peak.’
A military jeep took the couple from the stationary plane to the base’s entrance. The door itself didn’t open; rather, a part of it did, a smaller section hinging upwards like a cat flap to let the vehicle through. Even this opening was on a giant scale, easily large enough to have accommodated the Learjet. Worryingly, a sign beside the entrance warned of the sanctions that would be taken against unwanted visitors: Use Of Deadly Force Is Authorized.
But that concern quickly took second place to amazement. It was all Nina could do not to gawp at what lay behind the door. They had entered a vast underground hangar, at least seven storeys high and lit by rank upon rank of lights in the ceiling, made so small by height that they looked like perfectly aligned stars. Several C-130 Hercules transport aircraft were parked along one wall, almost lost in the cavernous space. ‘Wow. This is incredible!’
The jeep’s driver took them to a clutch of portable cabins opposite the line of aircraft. Men in the blue berets of the USAF Security Forces stood waiting for them. ‘Ay up, it’s the goon platoon,’ Eddie whispered to Nina.
‘Don’t talk unless you absolutely have to – and even then, don’t!’ she replied.
The jeep stopped, the military policemen surrounding it. Another man, a lanky officer in wire-rimmed glasses, stepped forward to greet the passengers. ‘Dr Wilde, welcome to Silent Peak Strategic Reserve,’ he said, holding out a hand to help Nina from the vehicle. ‘I’m the base CO, Colonel Kern – Martin Kern. It’s a great honour to have you here.’
‘Thank you, Colonel,’ Nina replied. Eddie climbed from the jeep beside her, remembering military protocol and saluting his superior officer. ‘This is my liaison from the Pentagon, Captain Tyler.’
‘Sir,’ said Eddie, making Nina cringe inwardly once more. Even that one short word sounded incriminatingly fake in his terrible accent.
But Kern was only concerned with his female guest. ‘Captain,’ he said with a noncommital salute of his own, before turning back to Nina. ‘I read about the role you played in saving President Cole’s life in India last year. That’s true heroism, if you don’t mind my saying. Something every American can be proud of.’
‘Ah, thank you.’ Nina’s awkwardness at the gushing praise was increased by the certainty that Kern would