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near one after being loaded with live warheads.

Standing next to a fully loaded and armed Minuteman IV missile sent a chill down his spine.

Years of training, testing, evaluations, and practice launches at a REACT console simulator had always lacked something. There was an undeniable disconnect. It wasn’t “real.” Training didn’t cause the end of civilization. Practice launches didn’t kill millions.

Missileers went to sleep each night comforted by the knowledge that the doctrine of mutually assured destruction had worked so far, and that each side had far too much to lose by starting a nuclear fist fight.

The passing of time had proved the strategy to be legitimate, despite the harsh realities underpinning it.

Cyndi scrutinized the pit below the missile. She cocked her head. Her crystal-blue eyes narrowed. “I think I know a way out of here.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The concrete flame pit beneath the missile was divided down the middle by a ridge. Each half dipped down then swooped back up at the sides. The concrete ramped up to large metal doors on opposite sides of the silo, placed at the same level as the catwalk. Huge springs attached to the top of the doors pulled them up tracks mounted on the walls when the time came.

“The flames from the rocket motor are redirected up the exhaust diverter tunnels so the missile won’t destroy itself before it leaves the silo,” Cyndi said, pointing into the pit.

Lance tapped his forehead and nodded. “So, we open one of the diverter tunnel doors, climb up the shaft, and get the hell out of this nightmare.”

“Bingo,” she replied with obvious pride.

“Nice going, Commander Stafford.” Lance leaned in for a kiss.

Cyndi put her hand on his lips. “Save it until we’re topside.” She pointed to her right. “First, we have to figure out how to open the door.”

The reinforced steel door was the size of a one-car garage door and weighed half a ton.

Cyndi and Lance stayed in a low crouch as they went over to the door. They split up, looking for a way to open it.

Lance ran his hand along the bottom edge of it. He found a latch resembling a large metal claw attached to the door. Metal conduit led away from the latch and into a junction box on the wall. Conduit from the opposite door wrapped around the silo wall and entered the same junction box.

“I think I found something,” Lance whispered.

Cyndi joined him.

“See this latch? It looks like it’s spring loaded. It must be held in place by an electric coil magnet.” He tapped on the junction box. “Cut the power and the latch will retract.”

“Very impressive, Deputy Garcia,” Cyndi said, smiling broadly.

Lance grabbed the conduit leading from the door latch to the junction box and yanked. When it wouldn’t budge, he put a foot on the wall for leverage and yanked again. It stayed solidly attached to the wall.

The new silo would have been destroyed during a launch, but construction crews had built it like it was going to be reloaded and used several times.

When government money was poured into a vital project like nuclear weapons, logic rarely entered the picture.

Lance spotted a fire ax inside a red box on the wall. He scampered over to it.

The words FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY were stenciled on the glass.

He slammed his elbow against the glass cover. It shattered, slicing his sleeve in the process. Blood seeped out of the new wounds.

Shots ricocheted off the wall next to the box. Breaking the glass had tipped off Pierce to his location.

“You two are already dead! It’s just a matter of time!” Pierce shrieked, somewhere in the fog.

His words echoed throughout the silo, making it impossible to tell if he’d discovered the umbilical cable and was creeping toward them or if he was still up in the opening.

Lance grabbed the ax and went back to the junction box. “This ought to do the trick.” He ushered Cyndi aside, raised the ax, and chopped down with all his might.

The ax blade just bounced off the box, barely nicking it.

“What the hell is this thing made of?” Lance asked with astonishment. He took a second whack at it, with the same result.

Unnerving laughter echoed off the walls.

“So that’s how you got down,” Pierce shouted from the opening. “Very resourceful. Don’t go anywhere, kids. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Crap, he discovered the cable.” Lance quickly raised the ax over his head for another try.

Just as he was about to swing, Cyndi grabbed his wrist. “Wait!”

“Are you kidding me?” Lance shrieked. “Pierce is coming!”

He tried to pull his arm away, but Cyndi clamped down even tighter. “The last step in the prelaunch sequence is the diverter tunnel doors opening. It’s a fail-safe step built into the software. If they didn’t open, the extreme heat would cause the rocket fuel to explode before the missile ever cleared the silo. Radioactive material would be scattered for miles.”

Lance’s head drooped. He lowered the ax. “If I cut the power to the doors, they’ll open. That could be the last step the malfunctioning console was looking for to launch the missile. No wonder it kept repeating the number zero.”

“If the motor ignites, this silo becomes a raging crematorium.” Cyndi contemplated her grisly observation then shook her head. “But if we don’t open the doors, Pierce…”

“Yeah, there’s that to consider. Hell of a choice—we fry, or we die.” Lance put down the ax. He held up one hand. “Rock”—he held up the other and joined them—“meet hard place.”

Cyndi slumped back against the wall. She let out a long sigh. “I never thought I’d go out this way.” Her eyes moistened. “I pictured myself sitting on the front porch, a kid on each knee, telling them stories about my adventures as a fighter pilot.”

She swiped at her tears with both hands. The bloody streaks this created along her ivory cheeks almost looked comical.

Lance tried to wipe away the blood with the end of his sleeve, but he only smeared it even more. With resignation

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