Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

     The secret service led Wolfe into an underground corridor and into a room. Lena scowled at Ronald. He scowled back at her.

     “They are not going to do anything,” said Ronald. “They don’t have the balls.”

     “Oh, because you don’t have the balls to keep it to yourself?” asked Lena.

     Ronald’s face burned with fury. He wanted to smack the smirk off of her face, but he noticed that the secret service agent was standing next to the door with a stoic look on his face. Instead, he sighed and looked at his surroundings.

     Right now, they could be having an elegant turkey dinner. Instead, they were in some concrete bunker surrounded with bunk beds covered with green blankets. He found it difficult to mask his disappointment.

     “This place sucks, it really does,” he said. “This bunker isn’t working for me. We need to go somewhere else.”

     The agent shook his head, “We can’t do that, sir. There is an imminent threat and we must take caution.”

     “This is exactly the reason why I didn’t want to stay with you in the white house,” hissed Lena. “We could have been eating a nice dinner.”

     “I want to go home,” sniffed their son Tyler.

     Lena hugged and kissed him on the head, “I know, it will be over soon.”

     Ronald looked at Lena, “I don’t know why you are making such a big deal.”

     “This is your fault we are in here,” she said. “Did you ever think of your children?”

     He looked at the agent, “Are my other children in a safe location?”

     The agent placed his hand on his ear, “Has the remaining Wolfe family been accounted for?” There was a brief pause. “Bianca is in Paris and two of your sons are in New York.”

     Ronald grimaced, “Where are they? Are they in a bunker?”

     The agent waited for a moment, “We are currently looking for them.”

     “Great,” Ronald was silent for a moment. “What do we do in the meantime?”

     “Right now, the staff is being evacuated and being brought here for safety,” he said.

     “They are all coming down here?” asked Ronald.

     The agent shook his head, “No, this is just one of the rooms. Outside of the door that you are sitting by leads to what people refer to an underground city. Everyone is moving down here. Dinner is already cooking and people should be here soon for Thanksgiving dinner.”

     “There’s an underground city?” Ronald said with awe.

     The agent approached the door on the other side of the room and opened it. A light from outside made the bunker brighter. Ronald stood up and looked outside.

     There was a giant white corridor full of large crates and utility vehicles. People were working away, moving boxes, and cleaning up rooms that lined the walls. Stairs lead up to more rooms.

     “What is all down here?” asked Ronald.

    “More bunkers,” the agent said, “emergency responders who provide medical care and can fight fire. There is a fully staffed cafeteria down that hall over there.”

     Ronald took in the view of this underground city. He sat back down on his bed. The agent closed the door.

     “Is there a different bunker?” Ronald asked as Lena snorted at him. He glared at her, “What?”

     The agent shook his head, “All of the bunkers are the same, sir.”

     Ronald shook his head, “What’s your name?”

     “Thomas,” the agent grinned.

     “How much for the top floor?” he asked.

     “You are safe where you are, Mr. President,” said Thomas.

     “I want my own floor,” said Wolfe.

     “There’s not enough room,” Thomas said sternly.

     “How much?” he asked again.

     “Sir, the rooms are already spoken for,” said Thomas.

     “You don’t have a job after today,” warned Ronald.

     “Good; I need the vacation,” Thomas returned to guarding the door.