Prig blew his breath out then, but he was so close to one of the monitors that he briefly fogged up the screen. “Fair point, Cat. Tell you what, someone go close and seal the bunker doors and lock them tight. I’ll fill in the gaps.”
Close and lock the bunker doors! Elna’s heart sank, though she knew it was the right thing to do. George and Selene were out there somewhere. All she could do was hope they were smart enough to hide.
“We’ve got links to communication satellites here in the bunker,” Prig said. As he spoke, he kept his gaze on the screens. “But that’s not all we’ve got. I didn’t want to say it before, because I know how civvies respond to the word, but this is a warfare hub. We also have access to missile defense here, mostly anti-aircraft. We didn’t just need Golf to get in. We all had the code to the bunker memorized, but Golf has the missile codes.”
“Is there anything not hidden on this island?” Elna asked.
“Yeah, a place that serves good Carolina barbecue,” Prig said with a wry smile. “Point is, we’re here to get the communication system up and running so we can activate the missiles. That’s the real reason we’re here. These guys”—he tapped one of the screens, where four mercs were making their way up the back road, approaching the shed—“I know all about these guys. Mercenaries hired to find the bunker and the codes. Now, they don’t know for sure that they can find the missile codes on the island, but they do know that the bunker is underground here somewhere.”
“What is this island I’ve lived on my whole life?” Elna said, sinking back in her chair.
“All of these cameras,” Malin noted. He was standing in the corner, arms crossed as he scowled at the screens. “How did they survive the EMP? Everything else got blasted, but the government still has a thousand eyes watching everything on the island?”
“You’ve heard of Faraday cages, right?” Prig replied. “You can shield electronics from electromagnetic interference. It’s not even that hard, really. Most people just don’t do it.”
“Just like the clinic in Manchester,” Elna noted.
“Not all of the cameras survived,” Prig noted, pointing to a blank screen on the bottom right. “Looks like this one got zapped. I guess all Faraday cages are not created equal. Guys, you can’t live on an island that’s an ex-military base and not expect a few cameras. If you had any idea how many cameras are hidden in unexpected places across this country, it would blow your mind. Most of them are fairly old, ever since they switched to using cellphone cameras.”
Elna was drawn to a different screen. She’d accepted the presence of the cameras for the time being. She couldn’t do anything about it right now anyway. In the middle screen on the top row, she had a view of the broad yard behind the guesthouse, a familiar shed and the round edge of the water tank on one side, a low wooden fence in the distance.
Two mercs approached the shed and opened the door. One went inside, while the other stood outside, keeping watch. After a moment, the first one emerged, tossing some of the tools from the shed onto the ground, as if he’d just violently searched through the shed. The two then turned and headed off camera in the direction of the house.
On another screen, she watched the men approach the back door of the guesthouse. One of them began kicking at the door. On the third kick, the door splintered, broke away from the knob, and swung open. They shouldered their way inside. It made Elna furious seeing the careless way they treated her home.
“God, I hope Selene and Pop are well-hidden,” Elna said. “Why did I let her go back to find him?”
“Your dad is a lot safer with Selene than by himself,” Malin noted. “Selene is smart and resourceful, even though she lacks confidence in herself. She’ll find a good place to hide, I’m sure of it. Plus, I think your dad trusts her, so he’ll do what she says.”
“Yeah, he’ll listen to Selene,” Elna agreed. “Maybe more than he would listen to me.”
More mercs approached the house and moved inside. As minutes passed, it seemed to be the place where they were gradually congregating, as if they’d planned to meet there. Elna didn’t have a clear view inside the building, but she could see people moving around through the windows. They were looting cabinets and shelves, opening drawers, dumping things on the bar, on tables, on the floor, rooting through everything. There’d been no sign of George or Selene on any of the screens. Where would they have gone to hide? Inside the house somewhere, most likely. Maybe the wine cellar?
“I can’t just sit here and keep watching this,” Elna said. “I have to do something.”
She started to rise, but Prig reached out and put a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?” he said.
“I have to find my people before something happens to them,” she said. “We can take on a dozen armed men. We just took on an entire camp full of guards.”
“That was a stealth mission, and we blended in,” Prig reminded her. “It only went south on the way out. These guys are in a whole different class from that militia.”
“They’re way more dangerous,” Spence added. “You don’t just run and gun with these guys.”
It took every ounce of willpower not to bat Prig’s hand aside and try to rush through the door. She knew it was dangerous. She knew it was a huge risk to leave the bunker, but she couldn’t sit idly by, staring at screens.
“There has to be something we can do,” she said, settling back into her seat. Tears burned in her eyes, but she fought them. “We’re armed too. We’re not helpless against these guys.”
“I hear you,” Prig said, lifting his
