Overton slowed the vehicle and maneuvered around the dozens of metal hangars lining the tarmac. “How are we going to find the entrance to this underground bunker?”

“I’m trying to remember what my contact at NTC told me, but it’s . . . hazy.”

Overton eased the vehicle to a stop and tilted his head so he could look directly at her. “You’re fucking telling me you don’t have the slightest idea where we’re going? You think you coulda mentioned this, I dunno, before we left the Biosphere?”

“You’re starting to sound like Timothy. Don’t worry; it’ll come back to me. Just drive,” she said.

She watched row after row of hangars pass as they continued down the tarmac at a crawl. All she could recall was the NTC staffer telling her the main entrance to the bunker was under a hangar. Unfortunately, there were a lot of them to choose from.

Look for the wings.

The staffer’s words popped into her mind. “Look for the old air force symbol,” she told Overton. “The one from before the government gave control of its air defenses to NTC.”

“Okay . . .” Overton punched the gas and watched the metal buildings zip by. He knew the hangar would not be with the civilian buildings. The military always kept its facilities separate. He turned the steering wheel hard to the right and raced down the tarmac toward a pair of buildings in the distance.

“Where are you going? You’re heading away from the airport!”

They raced past a bullet-riddled white sign with the faded image of wings etched into the middle. She watched the sign disappear in the side mirror. “How did you know?”

“Because I’m a soldier, and I know how other soldiers think,” he said with a grin.

The doors to the first hangar were cracked open, revealing the guts of a facility that had been used to house weapons at some point. Overton recognized the outlines of a forklift and several other pieces of machinery used to cart large missiles before they were loaded onto aircraft. He dipped the barrel of his rifle into the warehouse before slipping through the opening. Ancient crates and metal boxes littered the dusty concrete floor. Several dents from the colossal dust storms peppered the walls of the hangar.

This was not the type of place he imagined the military would have housed an underground bunker, but then again, the frail walls could have been built to deceive anyone looking for such a facility.