Although the eighty-five-acre compound is heavily guarded, the real secret of Mount Weather is located below ground. Deep within the granite mountain is an underground city, equipped with private apartments and dormitories, cafeterias and hospitals, a water-purification and sewage plant, a power plant, a mass-transit system, a television communication system, and even an underground pond. While no member of Congress has ever willingly claimed knowledge of the facility, many senior House representatives are in fact tenured members of this subterranean capital’s “government-in-waiting.” Nine federal departments have been replicated within the facility, as well as five federal agencies. Secretly appointed cabinet-level officials serve indefinite terms, without the consent of Congress and far from the public eye. Although not as large as the Russian complex in Yamantou Mountain, the crisis-management facility serves the same purpose—to survive and govern what’s left of the United States following an all-out nuclear assault.

Air Force Captain Mark Davis has been flying dry runs to and from the Mount Weather facility for twelve years. Although the National Emergency Airborne Command Post pilot and father of four earns a good living, he has never been happy with the fact that he and his family have been excluded from the “list.”

Davis sees the facility’s lights appear in the distance. He grits his teeth.

More than 240 military personnel work within the facility. Are their lives more important than his? And what about the sixty-five members of the “Executive Elite”? If a nuclear war did break out, blame could easily be directed at many of these military “experts.” Why should these bastards survive and not his family?

In the end, it had been easy for the Russian agent to coerce the disgruntled captain. Money was the key to surviving a nuclear war. Davis has used most of the funds to construct his own bunker in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the rest having been converted to gold and gems. If nuclear war ever did break out, he felt confident his family would survive. If not, then the kids’ college funds were now more secure than ever.

Davis hovers the chopper above the helopad and touches down. Two MPs in a tram approach. He salutes. “Seven passengers and their gear. All of the bags have been checked.” Without waiting for a reply, Davis opens the cargo door and helps the first lady out.

The MPs direct the passengers to the tram while the pilot unloads their bags. The nondescript brown suede suitcase is the third to go. Davis twists the handle clockwise as the Russian agent had instructed, then turns it back slowly.

The mechanism activates.

The pilot places the suitcase carefully in the cart, then hustles to load the remaining bags.

Chichén Itza, Yucatan Peninsula

Mick forces himself to slow his ascent, barely able to contain his excitement. He pauses at twenty feet to expel nitrogen, his thoughts racing wildly in his head.