“Hey, I’m talking to you, man,” Timothy persisted, fidgeting in his metal chair. “What is it, some kind of military thing? Is it World War Three out there?”

Overton gave him a quick “shut your mouth or I’m going to put my boot up your ass” look.

It worked. Timothy rolled his eyes and strolled over to help Sophie wheel Emanuel into the room.

“Do you believe that guy? Why the hell did they let him in this joint?” Finley asked.

“Sounds like a nut job to me,” Bouma replied with a grin.

“Keep your traps shut. Do you know where we are?” Overton paused to scan his men’s faces, but they stared back at him blankly. “Jesus Christ! We’re at Cheyenne Mountain, one of the best protected military bases in the history of the United States. This bunker was built to withstand a direct hit from a nuclear weapon, and can support the population of a small town for months. Right now we are guests at this facility. And until we figure out what’s going on out there, I don’t want to give them a reason to kick us out. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

The squeaking of rubber tread prompted Overton to sheathe his knife and stand. He welcomed Sophie and Emanuel to the room with a short nod. “How’s your tall friend?”

“He’s alive, but barely. Our AI has him in a medically induced coma inside the cryo chamber,” Sophie said, sliding Emanuel’s wheelchair underneath a table. She strolled over to Overton with her hand outstretched. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you and your men did back there. So thank you,” she said, forcing a tired smile.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “My pleasure, ma’am. Just in the day’s work of a Marine.”

Timothy laughed. “Marines who don’t know what the hell is going on.”

Sergeant Overton took in a short breath, calming himself before he let go of Sophie’s hand and retreated to his chair. Under normal conditions he would be removing Timothy’s teeth from his mouth with one swift punch, but not today—today he needed a place to sleep and regroup so he could have the strength to fight later.

Sophie pulled a strand of frizzled blond hair out of her eyes and brushed it behind her ear. She shot Emanuel a glance before heading to the center of the room. The mission had gone from a failure to a complete nightmare, but she was still the team lead, and her people needed her now more than ever. They’d seen her go through many highs and lows in her career, from winning the J. J. Sakurai Prize for outstanding work in theoretical particle physics to subsequently losing grant funding for a project associated with a new particle collider funded by NTC. And they had stuck with her through it all.

She bent over the table, placing her hands on the cold metal and scanning the faces sitting around the room. She wondered if they would still stay by her side now.