There was even decent air-conditioning that kept the place comfortable. At this time in the evening, there was almost no one in the building. It could’ve been any mid-level company in the US. Nothing fancy like a tech company. Not Facebook or Google. But maybe the headquarters for Home Depot or Macy’s. Lots of paperwork stacked on top of standard, identical wooden desks.

Just like in the US, the break room had a TV and a coffee set that looked like someone brought it from their living room.

Vicki’s office held two desks. The other one was occupied by an army corporal who was supposed to be her assistant. She said, “He’s more work than he’s worth. A nice kid, but he gets distracted by everything. I’m also not sure about his reading comprehension. He’s from Indiana.” She smiled.

“I’m sure that’s none of your Illinois bias coming out.”

“Of course it’s not. I can’t help it if we’re smarter than anyone else in the Midwest.”

Vicki logged on to her computer and, shortly, looked up and said, “You’re right. Rick Jackson is a supervisor for Deep River, assigned to this detention facility.” She read the screen for a moment more and said, “Looks like this guy’s been around. He was in the Marines ten years ago. Very impressive.”

That’s when I heard an alert tone over the loudspeakers. Then the familiar, computer-generated voice that said, “Take cover, take cover, take cover,” in a quick, even tone.

I just looked at Vicki and she said, “Missile attack. We’ve got to get down to a bunker. My captain would freak out if she heard we just stayed in the office during an attack.”

She calmly led me down the stairs next to her office and out the back door. No one seemed to be running willy-nilly. It was the most organized emergency I had ever seen.

She led me to one of the many bunkers dug into the ground and covered with sandbags. It was about the size of the inside of a narrow step van, maybe six feet across and fifteen to twenty feet long. There were simple wooden benches on each side of the bunker.

We slid onto the bench with a few contractors sitting on the other end. No one looked too alarmed. Then I heard an explosion in the not too far distance. Almost immediately, more people started spilling into the bunker.

Vicki leaned in close and said, “Usually, the missiles fall way out near the airfield. No one here is used to hearing the impacts.” There were two more thuds as missiles detonated in the distance. More people poured in, until both the benches were packed, and people were spread out on the ground between them.