“Take it to vault nineteen,” he said tersely.
The soldiers left and he turned back to Tappan. For a moment he was silent, as if collecting himself. Then he spoke. “I suppose I should thank you for finding that. Now, as I said, I have a few questions.”
“Go fuck yourself,” said Tappan.
The soldier standing to Tappan’s right stepped forward, slamming his fist into Tappan’s face. He fell to the ground with a grunt.
“Sergeant!” Rush barked. “Help him up.”
The man pulled Tappan to his feet, gasping and sputtering.
“As you were,” Rush ordered. The soldier once again took up a position to Tappan’s right.
“I don’t wish to hurt you,” said Rush.
“Tell that to our research assistant,” Tappan said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “The one your boys shot in the head.”
“That’s regrettable. But make no mistake: my troops are not ‘boys.’ And it wasn’t a sandbox you were digging in, up there on the surface. Though you may not know it, you’ve infiltrated a war zone—and any resulting casualties are on your heads as much as they are on mine.”
“What are you talking about?” Nora asked. “What war zone?”
Rush’s eyes slid toward her. “I have two questions that are particularly pressing. I need to know, first, what you’ve found so far; and second, who else knows about it outside your team in the field.”
“What we’ve found?” Nora said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But even as she said this, she knew he could mean only one thing. Rush’s lips twitched and she realized that—as he’d implied—he knew this as well as she did.
“Please don’t insult my intelligence,” he told her. “As I said, I don’t desire any more bloodshed than necessary. But you’ve put me in a difficult situation. If you don’t provide me with the information I need, I’ll have no choice but to assume the worst. And respond accordingly.”
Something about the way he said this chilled Nora.
“Where were those men of yours heading in our jeeps?” Tappan asked.
Now it was the colonel’s turn not to answer.
“You said you didn’t want bloodshed,” Tappan continued. “Guarantee the safety of my people—and I’ll answer your questions.”
Nora glanced at Tappan. He didn’t look back.
Rush exhaled slowly.
“Nobody knows anything,” Tappan burst out. “Just the four of us. Three, thanks to your trigger-happy captain. Okay? I don’t know what you’re after, exactly, but we don’t have it. We don’t know anything. But it’s obvious you know who we are—and what we’re doing. You probably even know the answers to these questions you’re asking. Now: Will you guarantee the safety of my people?”
“I’ll do my best,” Rush said after a brief silence. “But as I said, this is a military facility, engaged in a war. That makes guarantees somewhat complicated.”
Tappan scoffed in disbelief. “There’s no war here.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. There most certainly is a war: a secret war. And it’s been going on a long, long time.”
Rush looked from one to the other for a moment. Then he appeared to come to a decision.
“Sit down,” he said, indicating the chairs.
After a long pause, Nora took a seat. Tappan followed.
“As a gesture of goodwill, I’ll answer your initial question. Because if my intel is accurate, you two—more than almost anybody—will understand.”
He sat forward, lacing his slender fingers on the desk.
“We’re a hybrid branch of both the United States armed forces and its intelligence community, established informally in 1946 as an offshoot of the OSS and, more formally, in the National Security Act of 1947. The name given us in classified civilian circles is Atropos. As a component of America’s security network, we feel we need no name.”
“Never heard of you,” said Tappan.
Rush smiled mirthlessly. “It would be an intelligence failure if you had. Everything about us—from our history, to our appropriations, to our service members, to our installations—is black. Not for our safety, but for that of the countrymen we serve.” He paused. “I can see the skepticism in your face, Mr. Tappan. But the fact is, we are almost certainly the most important element in keeping you alive—and safe.”