DEADLY DILEMMA by Dan Stratman (story read aloud .txt) 📗

the site. With GPS for navigation, the course flown there would be accurate to within three feet—less than the length of the bench Cyndi was sitting on.

A swirling cloud of white snowflakes exploded in every direction as the Grey Wolf lifted off the pad. The pilot turned the craft east and engaged the autopilot.

The frozen Wyoming prairie provided little of interest to look at during the flight. The few ranch houses in the area were spaced miles apart.

Lance tried to make small talk with the guards, but they stayed focused on Cyndi.

He looked out the side window as the helicopter passed to the south of a two-hundred-foot-deep abandoned open-pit mine. The pit resembled an enormous coliseum for giants, complete with tiered bench seating. After fifty million years in the making, it took less than ten years for huge dragline cranes to scoop out the valuable coal. The state had spent years trying to get the small mining company to fulfill its obligation to backfill the pit but gave up after its owner strategically declared bankruptcy.

As the helicopter neared Alpha One, the pilot began his approach. A row of massive lattice-frame steel towers paralleled the road passing in front of the site. Strung between each tower were high-voltage power lines carrying power to rural Wyoming.

The pilot thought it would be hilarious to scare his passengers by coming in high over the towers then dropping straight down onto the helipad. Having checked out in the Grey Wolf barely one week ago, the pilot was still getting used to the new aircraft and was eager to test its capability. Like an elevator headed for the basement, the helicopter began its descent from one thousand feet above the prairie.

The approach suddenly went from a slow drop to a hair-raising plunge.

The four passengers levitated upward in their seats. Lance reached out and snatched the floating backpacks out of the air.

Cyndi turned to the cockpit. “Take it easy, flyboys. I’d rather not see my breakfast again.”

She knew they were in trouble when the pilot looked over at his copilot and screamed, “Holy shit!”

He increased power, but counterintuitively, the rate of descent increased. The power increase had churned up the air below the helicopter even more, depriving the blades of smooth air to bite into. In only a few seconds, the helicopter would slam down on the helipad at a speed that wouldn’t be survivable. Cyndi mashed the transmit button on her headset cord. “Settling with power! Cyclic forward! Go around!”

The pilot slammed his stick forward.

The descent rate increased even more.

Everyone on board held their breath.

With the ground rushing up to meet them, the helicopter slowly crept forward into undisturbed air. The five massive composite blades dug into the thick, smooth atmosphere. The greater the forward speed, the more control the pilot gained. He pulled hard on the collective to stop the dive. Ten feet from disaster, the descent bottomed out.

Ecstatic at not dying, the pilot let out one more emphatic expletive.

He put the helicopter in a wide, gentle turn back toward the helipad. The bird set down after executing a mild, cautious approach from the opposite direction.

After the engines were shut down, the pilot turned and sheepishly said, “Thanks, Captain. I owe you one.”

Although he tried to hide it, Cyndi noticed his hands were shaking.

Chapter Seventeen

Before Lance could ask any questions, Cyndi slid the door open, grabbed her pack, and jumped out. The guards took up defensive positions on either side of the gate.

Hiding in plain sight was an isolated outpost so dangerous and off limits that deadly force was authorized to keep it secure. The site was the size of a soccer field and encircled by a twelve-foot-tall fence made from reinforced steel. An added deterrent to unlawful entry—spools of razor wire—topped the fence.

Wyoming was a natural choice for nukes. Basing missiles along the northern tier of the US provided the obvious advantage of shortening the flight time over the North Pole to reach cities in our most feared enemy, Russia.

Cyndi opened a box attached to the fence, lifted the handset inside, and said, “Launch control center, this is Captain Stafford at the gate.”

A remote-controlled security camera mounted on the fence slowly rotated in her direction.

When it stopped, she heard the guard who had accompanied Dr. Zhao say, “You’ve reached the wine cellar. State your position, full names, and entry authorization code.”

“Wiseass,” Cyndi muttered under her breath.

Lance handed Cyndi the red envelope. She opened it and read from the sheet, “Crew commander is Capt. Cynthia Stafford, and my deputy is Lieutenant…” Cyndi paused and pulled the handset away from her ear. She looked down and read the words carefully. Then she looked over at her deputy.

“Yes, that’s my full first name,” Lance said with an exasperated groan. “What can I say? My mother is French.”

“Hey, I’m not judging,” Cyndi said, as she fought back a grin. She put the phone back against her head. “My deputy’s name is Lancelot Garcia.” She thought she heard a snicker coming from the guard. “The entry code is Lima, Seven, X-ray, Zero, Eight, Two, Six. Guards are in place. Requesting entry.”

They were put on hold as he verified their information. Bitter cold air seeped through their heavy parkas as they waited. Lance rubbed his hands together trying to generate some warmth.

Two minutes later the words, “Everything checks out,” crackled over the handset. “Come on in.”

The electronic lock snapped open. The heavy gate squeaked and groaned as it slid across the tracks embedded in the concrete. With the site now vulnerable to attack, the guards raised their rifles and tensed up. As soon as Cyndi and Lance had slipped through the opening in the gate, it stopped and reversed direction. It locked with a heavy, metallic thud.

Twenty yards ahead, a building resembling a mundane ranch house occupied the middle of the grounds. In the past it had accommodated support personnel and their equipment. That had all changed. Now, the building was powered up but empty. Security cameras ringed the