The camera had contained a mike, but the focus had been on sight, not sound, so we got only murmured snatches of conversation. Ed, Lou, and I all jumped when a loudspeaker suddenly blared at the campers.

“Now hear this, now hear this: at six hundred hours tomorrow morning, a test of highly toxic materials will commence in this region. Vacate the premises by twenty hundred hours tonight. After tonight the air force cannot guarantee your safety.”

The film showed chaos among the protesters. Some seemed to be confronting guards at the silo gates, others were huddled in a group by one of their tents. The film showed most of them packing their belongings into their cars or VW campers and driving away. I didn’t see Jenny among them.

Tuesday, August 16, 1983, 0600 Hours

The filming began with the plane I’d noticed under the shop light. It wasn’t possible to tell whether the plane was near the silo, but four men in protective gear were loading tanks under the wings, emptying stainless tubes that looked like Colonel Baggetto’s missing fuel-rod container. Several men in uniform, wearing gas masks, were overseeing the operation. With them stood a trio of civilians.

I told Lou to stop the film so we could look at the civilians. Matt Chastain, Magda Spirova, Nathan Kiel. In 1983 Kiel had been a vigorous forty-eight or -nine with thick black hair like Sonia’s, and sinewy arms and legs. Spirova and Chastain seemed impossibly young.

“Lady looks sly,” Ed said. “Up to no good.”

I looked more closely at Spirova’s face. Ed was right; she was swallowing a smirk. Kiel was fussing with the equipment, but in the frozen frame he was facing the camera, saying something to one of the military men. I identified the three figures I knew to Lou and Ed, and Lou started the projector again.

We were above the protesters’ encampment now, flying low, the plane trailing clouds of something—Y. pestis?—over the tents.

Thursday, August 18, 1983, 1600 Hours

A jeep carrying men wearing protective gear drove into the camp. From the jerky quality of the picture, I guessed someone was filming in a following jeep or truck. I felt motion sick as the camera tilted and swung around. The crew in their protective gear were looking into the tents, giving thumbs-up to the trailing camera team, until they came to the tent closest to the silo. For a count of almost two minutes, the camera showed only the open flap to the tent.

Finally a man emerged, carrying a woman in his arms. She was either unconscious or dead, and I was guessing dead.

A man spoke into his walkie-talkie, but we couldn’t hear what he said. For another minute or so, the camera swung between the walkie-talkie and the body on the ground, and then the cameraman stopped filming.