The Bunker

“Mornin’ Bill!” Jim exclaimed as he held the elevator door open, “you look pretty tired my friend. I’d share my coffee with you, but I’m afraid I’d be looking like you in a couple of hours without it.”

Bill stared straight down as he walked in, neither acknowledging Jim’s comments nor the guard’s presence with them. It was an early shift, so neither man thought anything of it. The guard, dressed in the usual sandy-colored button-up and tie, reached in his pocket, pulled out a key ring, and inserted a small key into the elevator panel. The key turned and opened a window to a smaller panel recessed in the wall of the elevator. The guard pressed the black button in the smaller panel as he did every morning then proceeded to lock back the panel.

I wonder what that white “N” is for on that button? I should ask him sometimes.

Then the elevator began to creek and descend. It was usually a three minute ride to their stop, sometimes filled with conversation, and other times completely silent.

“Did you and Jackie get to see that picture last night? I know you told me you were going,” Jim asked, trying to drum up conversation.

Looking up briefly, Bill quietly said, “No. Haven’t seen a picture in a while.” His head returned to its previous position, a signal to Jim that this would be one of the silent rides. Respecting the atmosphere of the ride, Jim kept to himself until the elevator slowed down and gently jerked back up, signaling the end of their ride.

“Where’s your badge Bill?”

“Hmm?” Bill murmured, still looking down. “Oh, I guess I must’ve left it at home.”

“Home? How long have we been doing this? Two years?” Jim jested, “You know you have to have your badge.”

About that time, the doors opened up to reveal another guard standing in front of two solid grey doors connected to a long concrete wall of the same color. “ICBM LAUNCH BUNKER” was stenciled in large white letters above the door. A smaller yellow sign on the door made sure everyone knew there was “Absolutely no admittance without badge identification,” in plain black lettering.

“Mornin’ James,” Jim said cordially, stepping out of the elevator first. “Bill here seemed to have left his badge… Is there anything you think you can do for us this time?”

“Sorry sir, no ID, no entry. I’d like to, but orders are orders.” The second guard said slowly.

“Can’t we let this just slide this time? We’ve been here every day for near two years. You know, if he can’t go in neither can I. And we both know that right now we can’t let this place go unmanned, national security isn’t going to wait until one man can find his stupid badge…”

The guard then slid his gaze quickly up to the guard in the elevator then back to Jim, “Sorry sir, rules are rules. We are going to have to wait till he can find his badge.”

Bill then turned to the elevator guard and began patting his pockets, “I think I may have it in here anyways.”

The guard nodded his head and turned back to the panel and pressed a button to close the doors and make his way back up to ferry more people to various places deep underground. The door closed and Bill finished the search of his person, only finding some peppermint sticks, of which he offered one to James.

The guard started to smile and said, “Thanks Bill, but come on in guys, I know y’all. Just don’t let this happen again.” He took a much larger key ring out of his pocket and unlocked the two doors between the two men and their destination. “See y’all in a few.”

“Thank you James,” Jim smiled as he proceeded through the cold metal doors.

“Thanks,” Bill reluctantly muttered as he fell in behind Jim. The doors closed behind them and they heard the unmistakable sound of isolation when the guard’s key turned the lock and the tumblers fell back out of order. Inside, Bill silently offered Jim a portion of a peppermint stick without turning his gaze from the seamless concrete floor.

“Thanks Bill, you might be onto something here, peppermint and coffee, hmmm.” Jim walked over to one end of the room and opened the refrigerator to keep his lunch. “Where’s your lunch Bill? I didn’t know you could make it this long without eating.” Jim said in a concerned tone. Bill seemed to not have heard as he found his seat and sat down. Jim came over and found his, about four feet away.

“What’s going on man? You don’t seem much like yourself today. Is it trouble with Jackie? A death in the family? I’m worried about you.”

“Oh it’s nothing,” Bill said nonchalantly. He reached onto the table between the two of them and flipped the lid on the black box that was built into it.

“Making sure they’re still there buddy?” Jim asked cautiously.

”Yeahhh,” Bill slowly said as he ran his fingers over the key closest to him. “I like how it feels to the touch. To know the power right under my hand.”

“Be careful there,” Jim reminded him, “it takes the two of us to do anything, in addition to a command from much higher up than us.”

“That’s the problem,” Bill said in a grave tone. Jim slipped his hand to his side and acted to scratch it as he touched the handle of his Colt for reassurance. God knows I never want to have to use this, but if I’m the only thing standing between us and World War III… His thought was interrupted by a thump at the entrance door. He spun his chair around and walked across the room to the door, his footsteps echoing throughout the room.

“James?” He asked as he walked closer, “everything ok James?” No reply came from the other side of the door. He raised his voice and asked again, “James?” Still nothing.

“He’s probably fine Jim, just a slip it sounded like. You know how thick these doors and walls are, he probably just can’t hear you.” Jim severely doubted that, but rather than push the issue—no matter how uneasy he felt about it—he simply turned back and let his footsteps echo his way back to his chair. The next several minutes passed in silence, Jim with his usual Popular Mechanics, but Bill oddly just sipped some water and ran his fingers across the panel before them and silently read each word embossed on it. Then suddenly Bill pushed up from his chair and began slowly pacing around the room with his hands clasped behind his back like a tourist peering over a guard rail. When he came to the side of the room closest to Jim and upon reading the black and white “restroom” sign above the door, he acted as if he had found what he was looking for and quickly entered. Jim shifted his gaze back towards his magazine, but his vision rested on the black box before it fell to his Popular Mechanics. I better just make sure, Bill has been acting quite different today.... No, he just probably had a long night, he sure looks like he did. However, Jim’s curiosity got the best of him as he rolled his chair towards the table in front of him. He checked back over his shoulder to make sure Bill was still in the bathroom. With the coast clear he slid his hand up onto the top of the box and flipped the lid open. My God! Both keys were gone. When I walked to the door he must’ve—. The toilet flush caused Jim to snatch his hand away and allow the box to slam shut. He quickly stood up and pushed his chair out of the way and stepped to the far side of the room away from the bathroom. Once in place he drew his gun and waited on Bill to step out of the bathroom. What seemed like minutes went by before he heard the door slowly open.

“Stop right there and put your hands where I can see them!” Jim yelled in a half-scared, half-confident tone, as he pointed his Colt in the center of Bill’s chest.”

“What’s going on here?” Bill asked in an uncertain tone.

“You know good and well what’s going on! Where are the launch keys!?”

“Jim, I think you’re mistaken,” Bill managed in a calm, soothing tone, “just calm down.”

“No! Now tell me where the keys are and get on the ground!” Bill motioned with both hands to calm down, but otherwise seemed unfazed and defiant. Jim’s face was turning red and seemed close to shooting his partner he now suspected of treason. He then reached in his pocket, and Jim, knowing that he could very easily be pulling his gun on him yelled, “Keep your arms where I can see them! I don’t know who you are anymore Bill, but you will pay for this!” He took no notice and continued to pull out a half-stick of peppermint and pop it into his mouth. This infuriated Jim even more, but suddenly he felt the color retreated from his face and noticed his arms slowly moved down, now pointing his gun at the floor. Bill started to walk closer as Jim fought his muscles unsuccessfully to pull his gun back up. Then with a resounding thud he hit the floor. Looking sideways from the floor, Jim tried to scream but couldn’t muster a single sound, he could only watch as Bill walked even closer and knelt down beside him.

He whispered, “As a reminder for the future, don’t take peppermint from just anyone who offers it,” as he patted Jim on the shoulder. Standing back up, and turning his focus to the launch panel, he started unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a thin metal transmitter strapped to his chest.

What in the world is that!?

Bill pressed an illuminated green button on the side of the metal piece and static could be heard coming from the transmitter’s speaker. “I’m in,” he plainly spoke.

Who could he be talking to? The Russians!?

More static ensued, then a shrill voice came through and spoke in a language Jim couldn’t make out. He was not sure if it was a different language he was hearing or just severe crackling as if an old record was being played back. Bill, seeming to hear perfectly, reached into his left pocket and produced the two titanium launch keys. He walked forward to the panel and inserted them one at the time into their respective slots. Jim just laid motionless, screaming in his head and struggling to move with every muscle in his body, but nothing was working, all he could do was watch as the world was about to plunge into World War III. Bill had to stretch his arm to be able to turn them both at the same time, but did so without hesitation. A loud click was heard when the keys were turned at the same time, signaling their locked position in the panel.

Oh God… There’s nothing that can stop this now…

Red flashing lights illuminated the room and a loud speaker was resounding safety procedures and alarms at the same time. Bill turned around for the first time and looked straight at Jim lying helpless on the floor, and without a change of expression lifted his Colt so that it pointed right between Jim’s eyes. “You’ve seen too much already.”

So this is how it ends… How can he just shoot me like an animal? If he could’ve managed it, he would have chosen to just break down and cry at how it was all going to end; years and years, millions of dollars, trying to prevent the war that would end the world as they knew it, all undone by one person. The suddenly a muffled click was heard. The pack unlatched itself from Bill’s chest, and both he and it fell to the ground. Is he dead!? But how is that possible? After several seconds of lying motionless on the concrete, Bill’s eyes slowly opened. Giving Jim the satisfaction that he might have the chance to kill him himself. However, when Bill recognized Jim also lying down, his eyes opened wide and he scrambled to stand up.

“Jim! What happened to you?” He ran over and knelt beside him, but there was no response. All he could see was a set of eyes staring blankly forward. “Talk to me Jim!” He yelled as he shook his shoulders, still nothing. He looked around for answers, but instead noticed the keys locked into the launch panel. Bill ran to the panel, never having been faced with the task of disarming such a situation before, and tried hopelessly to turn the keys back and remove them from their locked positions. He looked frantically for the radio switch on the panel, to find what was going on much higher up the ladder. The flip of the switch brought an ear-splitting squeal with a small undertone of dialogue barely noticeable. “Colonel! I repeat, Colonel! This is Sargent Stuart. What is happening down here!?” Sweat began dripping on the panel as he strained to hear anything more than the painful squeal from the speakers. Oh God, oh God, oh God help us. He repeated his request once more, but still no audible reply came from above. Shouldn’t James be here by now? Surely he knows something is happening! And why is my shirt unbuttoned!? Ignoring his last observation, he turned around and peered through the red flashing lights towards the double doors, but they yielded no more answers than before. Knowing that he had to get help for his partner overruled any duty he had left at the panel, so he instinctively went to Jim and reassured him that he was going to get help, then ran across the room to the steel doors. He pounded on the doors with his fists as hard as he could, with a, “James!” in between each blow. Every several blows he pleaded with James to, “Open the door, something’s happened to Jim!”

Jim heard every blow, knowing that James would never open that door because he was in the very same situation he was. He wished he could tell Bill that help was not coming, that they were surely left for dead, but his energy to simply think was fading. He could still hear each blow, Bang! “James!” Bang! “James!” Bang! “Open the door James! Bang! . . . Bang . . . . . . . . Bang . . . . . The last sound he heard from his partner was a resounding thud as Bill collapsed to the floor, losing all ability to move, feel, or act, only see and hear.

The blaring sirens quieted down and the flashing red lights dimmed. Thank you God. It’s finally over, whatever this whole thing was, Jim peacefully realized. However, the sirens became silent and the lights dimmed to complete darkness. Jim knew this was not just a physical darkness, as it crept past his hearing and sight and onto his mind. He then lost the ability to sustain a thought and could no longer comprehend what was happening to him. Then the blackness engulfing Jim and his whole existence tuned even darker, and then into nothingness.