entrance to the compound.
‘He’s exercising with the men,’ the soldier said, looking at his watch. ‘He’ll be finished in five, wait here and I’ll let him know as soon as he’s finished.’
‘Thank you, Sergeant,’ Steiner said, and moved away from his retinue to wait, which wasn’t long as soon after Samson stalked out to meet him.
‘You wanted to see me?’ the colonel said, irritation written all over his face.
‘I did.’ Steiner moved further away from prying ears. ‘I’m not going to beat about the proverbial bush, Colonel. You have threatened one of my personnel with physical violence; they also happen to be a friend of mine, so I shall put this very clearly. You will request a transfer to U.S.S.B. Haven immediately or I will have you forcibly removed and detained until I decide what to have done with you. Do you understand me, Colonel?’
Towering over him, Samson’s face darkened and he leaned down menacingly . Steiner’s bodyguard moved forwards, but Steiner held up his hand to stop him.
Samson looked round and laughed. ‘Your bodyguard doesn’t scare me and neither do your empty threats. I’m going nowhere.’
‘That would be unwise,’ Steiner said, holding his ground. ‘You do not want to try me.’
The colonel smiled and walked off without another word, eyeballing Steiner’s bodyguard as he went.
That went badly , Steiner thought. His threat of moving Samson by force was a weak one considering his current relations with the Joint Chiefs and the military fraternity. Apparently Samson knew that too, or else he just didn’t give a crap. At least Richard has my bodyguards for protection , he reflected.
Looking at the bigger picture, Steiner decided he needed to call in some contractors as soon as possible. Now that the U.S. military essentially danced to their own tune, the GMRC itself had been compromised; his hand had been forced and he had to return the status quo. If the Joint Chiefs and Joiner wanted to play games, then he still had some final cards to play.
Chapter Seven
A private plane touched down on a military airstrip five miles outside of the town of Dulce, New Mexico. A group of black SUVs made their way out from one of the hangars as the aircraft came to rest half a mile away. No sooner had the engines shut down than a ladder was manoeuvred into place as a door opened above. Men in dark suits exited, many donning shades to fend off the dazzling rays as the sun beat down overhead. As the SUVs came to a stop nearby, a final group of people emerged from the opening.
Malcolm Joiner, Director of National and GMRC Intelligence, stepped down onto the baking hot tarmac and moved to his waiting vehicle. He was glad to get inside the air-conditioned cabin as his men climbed in around him. The small convoy begun to move and a short while later they were passing the checkpoint to the military compound guarding the primary surface entrance to U.S.S.B. Steadfast. The vehicles cleared a final security sweep and were then driven onto one of the enormous elevator mechanisms; an engineering marvel that had been utilised the world over in subterranean complexes as the principal surface-to-interior transportation system. Thick, super-hardened doors encapsulated the convoy on a wide, expansive oval platform, while teams of workers prepped the structure for departure. Ten, twenty and then thirty minutes ticked by as they waited for the other levels of the elevator to be loaded up, the system being too large an operation to warrant deployment for small parties and Joiner’s arrival having been timed so that it coincided with that day’s descent schedule.
Soon enough sirens sounded and beacons flashed as speakers announced magnetic coil locks had disengaged and surface departure was imminent. Grinding noises sent vibrations through the platform and a loud whining assaulted the senses, indicating the turbine engines had powered up. The super elevator gave a lurch and then
‘He’s exercising with the men,’ the soldier said, looking at his watch. ‘He’ll be finished in five, wait here and I’ll let him know as soon as he’s finished.’
‘Thank you, Sergeant,’ Steiner said, and moved away from his retinue to wait, which wasn’t long as soon after Samson stalked out to meet him.
‘You wanted to see me?’ the colonel said, irritation written all over his face.
‘I did.’ Steiner moved further away from prying ears. ‘I’m not going to beat about the proverbial bush, Colonel. You have threatened one of my personnel with physical violence; they also happen to be a friend of mine, so I shall put this very clearly. You will request a transfer to U.S.S.B. Haven immediately or I will have you forcibly removed and detained until I decide what to have done with you. Do you understand me, Colonel?’
Towering over him, Samson’s face darkened and he leaned down menacingly . Steiner’s bodyguard moved forwards, but Steiner held up his hand to stop him.
Samson looked round and laughed. ‘Your bodyguard doesn’t scare me and neither do your empty threats. I’m going nowhere.’
‘That would be unwise,’ Steiner said, holding his ground. ‘You do not want to try me.’
The colonel smiled and walked off without another word, eyeballing Steiner’s bodyguard as he went.
That went badly , Steiner thought. His threat of moving Samson by force was a weak one considering his current relations with the Joint Chiefs and the military fraternity. Apparently Samson knew that too, or else he just didn’t give a crap. At least Richard has my bodyguards for protection , he reflected.
Looking at the bigger picture, Steiner decided he needed to call in some contractors as soon as possible. Now that the U.S. military essentially danced to their own tune, the GMRC itself had been compromised; his hand had been forced and he had to return the status quo. If the Joint Chiefs and Joiner wanted to play games, then he still had some final cards to play.
Chapter Seven
A private plane touched down on a military airstrip five miles outside of the town of Dulce, New Mexico. A group of black SUVs made their way out from one of the hangars as the aircraft came to rest half a mile away. No sooner had the engines shut down than a ladder was manoeuvred into place as a door opened above. Men in dark suits exited, many donning shades to fend off the dazzling rays as the sun beat down overhead. As the SUVs came to a stop nearby, a final group of people emerged from the opening.
Malcolm Joiner, Director of National and GMRC Intelligence, stepped down onto the baking hot tarmac and moved to his waiting vehicle. He was glad to get inside the air-conditioned cabin as his men climbed in around him. The small convoy begun to move and a short while later they were passing the checkpoint to the military compound guarding the primary surface entrance to U.S.S.B. Steadfast. The vehicles cleared a final security sweep and were then driven onto one of the enormous elevator mechanisms; an engineering marvel that had been utilised the world over in subterranean complexes as the principal surface-to-interior transportation system. Thick, super-hardened doors encapsulated the convoy on a wide, expansive oval platform, while teams of workers prepped the structure for departure. Ten, twenty and then thirty minutes ticked by as they waited for the other levels of the elevator to be loaded up, the system being too large an operation to warrant deployment for small parties and Joiner’s arrival having been timed so that it coincided with that day’s descent schedule.
Soon enough sirens sounded and beacons flashed as speakers announced magnetic coil locks had disengaged and surface departure was imminent. Grinding noises sent vibrations through the platform and a loud whining assaulted the senses, indicating the turbine engines had powered up. The super elevator gave a lurch and then
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