Somewhere behind, a voice yelled, “Senator Wortham, don’t do that! You’re going to get yourself shot!” McCrea looked behind to see the senator’s security escort trotting up to join him.

“Mom, what’s happening?” Caleb asked. He clung to her whole arm.

Not a great look for a kid his age, McCrea thought.

“People are just scared about what might be coming,” Victoria said. Her tone was strong, but she looked as frightened as anyone else.

As they approached the top of the hill and the building beyond, the scale of everything seemed to transform. The massive entryway looked like something out of a science-fiction movie. McCrea wondered how they’d possibly been able to disguise it from the neighbors.

Luke pulled up short. “I’m not going in there,” he proclaimed.

“You have to, sweetheart,” Victoria said. “This is going to be our home for a while.”

“Yet to be seen,” McCrea said. As he spoke the words, he thought he might understand why Victoria was leading the charge like this. If the kids were not to be allowed, and she chose not to leave them alone, that was something to be known sooner rather than later.

“What does he mean by that?” Caleb asked. “Yet to be seen?”

She didn’t answer.

Luke pointed toward the top of the hill. “Look at all the soldiers.”

Fifty feet ahead, passage was completely blocked by a makeshift barricade across the road. A dozen or more stern-faced men, kitted out for battle, added firepower to the roadblock. Helmets, vests, rifles and enough ammunition to stave off an invasion. But the uniforms they wore were of a previous generation, the mottled green camo pattern of the Vietnam era, and none of them wore rank insignia.

“Major McCrea?” Victoria asked. “What branch of the service are they from?”

“Ask me again in five minutes,” he said. “At least we know why nothing is moving. Stay close to me.” Louder: “First Sergeant Copley?”

“Sir?”

“Keep the Emersons safe while I speak to the guards.”

“Oo-uh.”

Victoria addressed her sons at a whisper. “Caleb, you make sure that you and Luke do exactly as First Sergeant Copley tells you. I’m going with the major.”

She didn’t wait for a response from either boy. They’d been raised right. Yes, they had attitude, and, yes, they pushed back, but they understood an order when they heard it, and they would obey.

Victoria waited until McCrea was halfway to the barricade before she started after him. The first sergeant started to object, but his heart wasn’t really in it.

McCrea approached the least nervous-looking sentry. “Good evening, troop,” he said. “What’s with all the delay?”

As if channeling the Buckingham Palace Beefeater guards, the soldier said nothing, but rather stared straight ahead, as if no one were there.