He finished his recon and marched back to the truck, tapping Sophie on the shoulder and jerking his head toward the hangar. She nodded and followed him. The doors to the second hangar were sealed shut, and the handle to a side entrance was locked. He cursed under his breath and threw the strap of his rifle around his back. Taking one knee, he removed his combat knife and unscrewed the bottom of the handle. Inside were several lock-picking tools. His squad had teased him on more than one occasion for carrying them, but this wasn’t the first time they had come in handy.

With a click, the door unlocked. He swung it open cautiously, crouch-walking behind the safety of the thick metal. Inside were more crates and boxes. The hull of a rusted tractor sat in the corner of the room, half-draped in a tarp. At first glance there was no evidence of an entrance to the bunker. Frustrated, he broke radio silence. “Advance.”

Sophie emerged with her pistol drawn. Her helmet darted back and forth as she scanned the room.

“I don’t see shit to indicate a bunker,” he whispered.

“Alexia, are you able to scan the facility?” Sophie asked.

“Already completed, Dr. Winston. Check the east corner of the room. A preliminary scan indicates there is something covering the entrance.”

“Would have been nice to know before I stuck my neck in here,” Overton growled.

Sophie smiled and patted Overton on his armored shoulder. She paced toward the tractor, and with his help they pushed it forward. Underneath was a circular door.

He could hardly believe it. Without hesitation, he squatted and wiped off the surface, revealing the etched letters NSA.

“National Security Agency,” he said, shaking his head.

“It was basically the intelligence branch of NTC before it became, well, NTC,” Sophie said, joining him on the floor.

“Go back to the truck and get the device. I’ll try to get this thing open,” he said, gripping the handle and heaving with his back. He pulled harder and felt the cut on his shoulder tighten.

“Fuck. On second thought, help me with this first,” he said. “On three. One. Two. Three!”

They twisted the circular handle, and the ancient door clicked open, revealing a thin sliver of red light.

“I’ll be damned,” he said, peeking into the tunnel. “The lights are still on after all these years.”

Sophie shrugged. “You need to start listening to me more often.”

“I will take that under consideration, Dr. Winston. In the meantime, how about you retrieve the RVM?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a salute that was only half ironic.

She jogged back to the truck, satisfied with their find. They were one step closer to their objective—one step closer to seeing if Dr. Hoffman had indeed wanted them to proceed to the ship.