Terminal Freeze by Lincoln Child Read Free Book Online

short, slightly tubby man in a white linen suit and panama hat bustle across the lobby. He wore round black glasses and his face was quite pink. He extended a hand. “Dr. Logan?”
    Logan rose. “Yes.”
    “I’m Percy Hunt, official historian for the lodge. I’ll be your view facilitator this morning.”
    View facilitator,
Logan thought as he shook the proffered hand.
Must be what passes for tour guide at the Old Rag Lodge.
“I’m grateful.”
    “You’re from Yale, isn’t that correct?” Hunt glanced at a small folded sheet. “ Regina professor of medieval history?”
    “Yes. Though at present I’m on academic leave.”
    Hunt slipped the paper into his jacket. “Very good. If you’ll follow me, please?”
    He led the way to an arch at the far end of the lobby, which gave on to a plushly carpeted hall lined with sporting prints. “There are two entrances to the bunker,” Hunt said. “A large exterior door built into the rear of the mountain-used by trucks and heavy vehicles-and an elevator behind the hotel’s main conference room. We’ll be entering via the latter.”
    They passed an indoor swimming pool decorated with faux-Grecian marbles, a banquet hall, and a ballroom, before entering the large and well-appointed conference room. Without pausing, Hunt headed toward a set of double doors in the rear, wallpapered to match the rest of the room. “Congress would have used this space to convene, assuming it remained standing,” he said. “Otherwise, they would have employed the smaller chambers below.” He pointed at the wall ahead of them. “This supports the blast doors protecting the bunker elevator.” Opening the doors with some effort, he revealed a small space with another door at its far end. Unlocking this with a key he kept on a fob, Hunt ushered Logan into a large elevator, painted green. Closing the door, he used the same key to operate the elevator. There were no floor buttons or indicator lights of any kind.
    The descent was very long. After thirty seconds or so, Hunt turned toward his guest. “So, Dr. Logan,” he said, “where in particular does your interest lie? The engineering spaces? Personal quarters? Infirmary? I ask because usually researchers who arrange for private tours like this are following up some particular area of expertise. The more you tell me, the better I’ll be able to assist you.”
    Logan glanced back. “Actually, Mr. Hunt, it isn’t the bunker per se that I’m interested in.”
    Hunt blinked back. “No? Then why-”
    “I’m here to examine the Omega Archive.”
    Hunt’s eyes widened. “The archive? I’m sorry, but that’s quite impossible.”
    “The information in that archive was declassified as of”- Logan glanced at his watch-“eight o’clock this morning. That was seventy minutes ago. It’s now a matter of public record.”
    “Yes, yes, but the proper deactivation procedures-vetting, cross-checking, all that sort of thing-need to be attended to first. Requests have to go through proper channels.”
    “I’m only interested in a single file. You can observe; I’ll read it in your presence. As for proper channels, I think you’ll find this sufficient to allay any objections.” And Logan opened his briefcase, removed a folded sheet stamped at the top with the United States seal, and handed it to Hunt.
    The little man glanced over the letter, eyes widening farther still. He licked his lips. “Very well, Dr. Logan. Very well. I’ll still need to get verbal authorization-”
    Logan pointed to the signature at the bottom of the letter. “If you really want to trouble him, feel free to do so-once we’re back in the hotel. I’ll only be a few minutes if I’m allowed to conduct my research unobstructed.”
    Hunt removed his glasses, wiped them on his jacket, replaced them, adjusted his straw hat. “May I ask…” his voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “May I ask what interest a professor of medieval history has in the Omega