Prig gave Archer a long unhappy look, and the woman, despite her severe features and tough demeanor, seemed to wilt. Finally, she dropped her gaze to the tabletop. A tense second of silence passed, but suddenly Prig nodded, as if to himself, and plastered a big, goofy grin on his face. He turned to Elna.
“Ma’am, like I said before, I’m not supposed to tell you,” he said, “but maybe since you live here, it’s only fair to give you a little bit of info. I guess it can’t hurt. Here’s the thing. It turns out you maybe don’t know this island as well as you think, because there is a bunker on this island, and it’s why we’re here.”
When he said this, some of his fellow Marines looked at him sharply. Spence crumpled his Mentos pack in his hand and scowled, and Archer shook her head.
“If you’re talking about the big building over beside the lighthouse,” Elna said, “it’s pretty much empty. We’ve been in there, like I said. Whatever the military had stored there, it’s long gone.”
“No, that’s not what we’re looking for,” Prig said. “The bunker we’re looking for will be sealed, with a special lock on the door. Actually, the militia nabbed one of our guys, so we’re going to have to figure out what to do about that.”
“Where is this bunker?” Elna asked.
Prig hesitated a moment, glanced over his shoulder at Spence, and finally said, “Somewhere under the lighthouse.”
“Whoa, under the lighthouse,” Malin said.
Elna felt a sudden queasiness. It was like turning over a brick and finding out there was a massive spider hiding under it.
“What does this bunker contain?” she asked.
“You’re not…privy to that information,” Prig said. “Suffice it to say, it is strategically very important, ma’am.”
Norman leaned forward then, the crust of his sandwich crushed in his hand, and said, “Has the US military been hiding weapons on this island? They’re not going to send the Marines all the way here to gather up some old MREs and antique helmets.”
“As I said, it is strategically important,” Prig said. “That’s about all I can tell you at this time.”
Fish spoke up then. The long, lean swimmer had been leaning far back in his seat, his hands behind his head, like he wasn’t really paying attention. But he sat up suddenly and said, “What good would it do to tell them anyway? These are civilians. This has nothing to do with them.”
“My father and I own this island,” Elna said. “It certainly has something to do with us. We’re not trying to get in the middle of your business, but I think we have the right to know if the military has some claim to this island that we don’t know about.”
Prig looked at his fellow Marines, but no one said anything. There seemed to be some kind of unspoken debate taking place between them as they variously nodded, shrugged, frowned, or shook their heads.
“Should we expect more military on the island in the near future?” Elna asked. “Surely, you can at least tell me that.”
Prig stared hard at the short-haired woman called Archer, then blew his breath out and spun in his seat to face Elna. He hadn’t wanted to tell them anything about the mission in the beginning, but it seemed like they were slowly getting him to move the boundary line through a mix of wine and persistence.
“Alright, I don’t see what it can hurt to tell you folks at least some of it,” he said. He lifted his cap, ran his fingers through his short white hair, and sighed. “You don’t seem to be any kind of threat.”
A couple of his men looked at him sharply again, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Of course, we’re not a threat,” Norman said. “We’re just normal people trying to get by.”
“I can see that,” Prig said. “Okay, fine, here’s what I can tell you, and this is all I can tell you. Anything else is beyond my authority. Got it?”
He gave Elna a long, lingering look, and she realized he was waiting for some kind of response. She nodded and gestured for him to continue.
“The bunker beneath the lighthouse is a communication hub,” he said. “It’s set pretty deep, and you’d never have found it on your own. Even if you found the door, you wouldn’t be able to get in.”
“Isn’t it likely that the communication equipment would be fried?” Malin said.
“The bunker is supposed to be shielded,” Prig said. “We’ll see about that when we get inside.”
“How long has this equipment been down there?” Elna asked. “It must be decades old by now and way out of date.”
“That’s not our understanding,” Prig said. “Again, you’re going above my head here, but I’m pretty sure the equipment has been maintained. I don’t know when or by whom. DOD, I assume.”
“Why would you come all the way here and risk a confrontation with militias on a pretty sure?” Elna asked. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like any of this. The military had maintained a stake in the island all these years, despite the change in ownership, and without telling the new owners. Had they come onto the island to check the bunker over the years without announcing their presence? Had they been conducting operations right under her feet? It made her angry, made her feel violated, but she didn’t know who to direct these feelings at. It certainly wasn’t the fault of these Marines, who were just doing their part to help the country.
“Okay, the truth is, we have good reason to suspect the communication equipment is working,” Prig said. “Command was able to get a ping
