"Sir, you asked me to tell you what I think about-"
"Not this. You think about what I tell you to think about," he snapped.
Surprised, she fell silent.
"Now, focus on locating the other three keypads. Keep me apprised of when the troops bring in the one they found down the mountain. Tear apart the compound if you must. If I hear this nonsense again, I'll send you outside the walls to deal with this mess personally."
"Yes, sir," she murmured, wilting beneath his fierce glare. "I'm sorry, sir."
"You're a good girl. Stay a good girl," he said, softening. "I think you need some sleep. Report back tomorrow morning."
He turned and strode away. Lana watched him, at a loss at what to think of his reaction. She wasn't wrong. There was no other logical scenario. She watched General Greene stride towards the command hub.
As good as he had been to her, she didn't doubt his threat. And if he chose to expel her, no one there would defend her, just as no one defended crazy Arnie. Arnie's antics hadn't started until the second week on the compound. General Greene was the first to recommend his removal, and a voice in her mind whispered that maybe Arnie had figured something out he shouldn't have, too.
General Greene hadn't acted surprised about the missing keypads. Lana glanced at her micro, which still worked on breaking through his messages. She had no proof he'd done anything wrong. And who wouldn't recommend Arnie's removal with his increasingly erratic behavior?
She turned away and started towards the barracks. Maybe she did need sleep.
The compound was the eye of a storm. Brady and his men paused after two rigid security inspections and being granted permission to enter. The area beyond the gates and inspections was quiet, with men and women dressed in government uniforms touring the compound like it was any other day and not possibly the last day of the world. Guard dogs trotted forward to sniff him and his men while a doctor in a blue government jumpsuit approached them, eyes pinned to the injured man carried between two others. He was smiling.
In fact, many of the people on the compound cast curious or smiling glances towards them. Brady peeled his face mask off and lowered the muzzle of his weapon, unnerved by the unrealistic utopia after the three-day battle up the side of the mountain. The people were doing whatever it took to survive outside the walls, and they'd run across more men in Western uniforms.