The Things We Bury - Part 1: In Anticipation of the End of the World [Completed]

Chapter 1: Project LARS (Part 2 of 6)

Grierson slammed down the receiver and sighed, releasing a lifetime of disappointment and frustration into the atmosphere of the stale office. He stared at the phone, as though waiting for it to launch some new attack on his spirit. After a small eternity, he raised his slumped head. He seemed surprised to see Maxwell Wiley sitting across the desk from him, even though they had shaken hands less than five minutes before.

Maxwell smiled. His manner was calm and relaxed. He did a good job of hiding his anxiety at the thought of the mountain pressing down on top of them.

"I'll be happy when we're out of this shit hole." It was the first words Grierson had spoken to him.

Maxwell broadened his smile to give the impression of agreement. He always found it difficult to fake the expressions his face wanted to perform naturally, but he kept control over his features. He would be just as happy as the Sector Chief to be done with the underground base, probably more so. The very thought of meeting Grierson down here filled him with dread. Each second of the trip from McCarran International to the desolate salt flats was spent anxiously anticipating that crushing feeling of claustrophobia, which would collapse on top of him once he arrived.

"I don't know how many times I have to have the same argument with Peterbilt." Grierson rubbed his forehead. The weary gesture was an invitation for Maxwell to ask about it.

 "Does the Colonel not like you using up his office space?"

"He wants LARS." Grierson leaned back in his swivel chair, looking less dejected. Complaining appeared to be beneficial to his mood. "The bastard doesn't seem to understand, I can't turn a U.S. citizen over to him, even if I wanted to."

"A little too Earthbound for his purview, I guess." Maxwell threw out the little quip just to keep his boss talking.

With a faint chuckle, he said, "A little, yes."

Maxwell grinned at his own joke, hiding his amusement that Grierson had slipped and revealed that whatever LARS was, it was terrestrial after all.

"Hell, I'd be thrilled for the Air Force to take over this mess." As Grierson made this little confession, the small laugh that had been barely there disappeared without a trace lost in the man's gloomy jowls.

"All of this crap." He pointed to a paper in the center of his blotter and then started poking at the file folders scattered across the desk. "Witness suppression, media relations, crime scene clean up, appeasing local and State law enforcement, building estimates, rezoning permits..."

When he was done, he groaned and put his head in his hands. If Maxwell didn't know better, he would have thought the old man was putting on theatrics for his benefit. But in the week he'd known him, Grierson had proved to be ridiculously melodramatic.

Maxwell felt no sympathy since it had been him, who had been assigned to take care of those problems, while Grierson's role consisted mainly of moving files from one side of his desk to the other. He had dealt with almost all of those complications, but this was the first time he had heard anything about construction. "Are we building something?"

"Our own facility. The project has been given a budget and the go ahead. We plan to be out of here by May First."

"The First?" That was two weeks away. It didn't make sense. If they were keeping LARS down in the bowels of Groom Lake, he had to be a serious threat. How could they slap together a new facility so quickly and have it be anywhere near secure?

"Are we going to be able to build it that fast?" Maxwell used we even though he'd be long gone by May. It was better to be inclusive to make Grierson comfortable with him.