End Game (Will Robie #5)(73)

“Something you would be familiar with, Sheriff.”

Lambert unlocked the door and they looked inside. There was a toilet, a shower, and a bed.

“It’s a jail cell,” said Malloy.

“We actually like to call it a chill-out room,” amended Lambert.

“Who decides who goes in?” asked Reel.

“We have a governing body. They make the decisions while the silo is closed up. And in the event of a catastrophe, no one will be allowed to leave, because that might jeopardize the rest of us if that person were captured and revealed some intelligence about our systems, defenses, and such. Or they could be used as leverage against us.”

“And if someone really wanted to leave?” asked Robie.

Lambert pointed at the tiny room. “They go there to chill out. This and all I’m going to show you is spelled out in the marketing materials and in the ownership documents that everyone has to sign. We didn’t want anyone to be surprised.” He wasn’t smiling now.

“And if you have a mutiny?” asked Malloy.

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. People who bought here are reasonable and think logically. I doubt they’re going to lose their cool and spoil it all.”

“That’s the theory, anyway,” said Reel.

Lambert stared at her for a moment before continuing. “And people will have chores to do. We rotate them so no cliques are formed. Four hours a day. Builds camaraderie and cuts down on boredom. We also have computer network technology tied to a satellite, data storage files, and a business center so that the owners can keep up to date on what’s going on outside.”

“If there’s anyone left outside,” noted Reel.

“Well, we need to stay positive,” said Lambert curtly. “There’s also a dog park because several owners have pets.”

“You seem to have thought of everything,” said Robie.

“We try. Now we can look at one of the apartments.”

They drove back through the tunnel and rode the elevator up, stepping off on a floor that had a single door.

Lambert opened it.

Robie said, “Wait a minute, the apartments aren’t locked?”

“No, we thought it best to have them unlocked in case of emergency. We have to have an element of trust here.”

They stepped inside.

He pointed around the space. “It’s about two thousand square feet. I know that sounds fairly large for an underground apartment, but keep in mind that the owners are used to living in mansions ten times that size, with full-time staffs, but there was no way we could duplicate that here. But we do try to make it as luxurious as possible, as you saw with the common areas. Now, we have nine-foot ceilings throughout, granite counters, Wolf and Sub-Zero appliances. This particular place is owned by an investment banker. His wife had her designer fly in to do the customized interior.” He pointed to a window showing a scene with trees and a statue.

“That’s Central Park,” said Malloy.

Lambert nodded. “These are LED video screens. It’s important when living underground that you have lots of light to stimulate people. You can customize them to whatever you want. There’re also sounds associated with them, and the scenes are on a rotation so they change every few minutes. This couple is from Manhattan and wanted to replicate that experience. We’ve got another couple from Minnesota that prefers winter images. One guy from Hawaii likes waves and beaches. We have one guy who was born in England before moving to the U.S. as a teenager. He has an entire video wall in his bedroom with scenes from London. It’s all in what you want the experience to be.” He suddenly laughed. “In 1961 JFK called on all Americans to work together to build fallout shelters because of the Cold War. But somehow I don’t think he had this in mind.”

“No, I don’t think he did,” said Robie.

“But you look at Congress. They had that big underground shelter at the Greenbrier Resort in West Virginia. The press found out and they discontinued its use, but don’t tell me they don’t have other places to go in case the world goes to hell.”

“Well, places like that are to ensure continuity of government,” Reel pointed out.

“Well, places like this are to ensure that highly successful people survive and then come out and work to rebuild the world,” said Lambert. “It’s all in our marketing brochures. It’s like we’re doing a public service, really. These people are leaders. Frankly, I believe they’re far better leaders than the do-nothings in Washington. How do you know a politician is lying? He has a pulse.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” said Robie.

Lambert quickly eyed him. “Hey, I know you’re with the Feds, and I got great respect for people putting their lives on the line for their country. I was in the Army for a while. Some of the best lessons I ever learned. My problem is with the empty suits spouting bullshit and not helping anybody. Maybe if they did their job we wouldn’t have to build stuff like this.” He grinned and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry, I tend to get on my soapbox sometimes.” He looked around at the space. “As elaborate as this is, there are other folks doing much bigger things.”

“Such as?” asked Reel curiously.

“I hear they’re developing a subterranean community near Dallas. Single-family homes, equestrian center, beaches, golf course, polo fields, zip lines. Three hundred million bucks or more it’s costing, all underground, and all protected against an apocalypse. And there’s a huge development of former military bunkers in South Dakota. That will house about five thousand people. And it’s not just in the U.S. They’re doing this at an old military bunker in Germany that’ll have triple the number of residences that I have, and then there’s the Oppidum in the Czech Republic. They’re calling it the ‘Billionaire’s Bunker.’ It has an aboveground estate and nearly eighty thousand square feet underground. Makes what I’m doing here seem like small potatoes.”