Keep Going
Copyright© 2026 by Trevor Dohlen
Chapter 2: The Silo
Margaret Lawson called Daniel at 8:17 the following morning.
“Tell me you haven’t bought it.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“The missile silo.”
“I haven’t bought it.”
“Thank God.”
“I have an appointment at ten.”
There was silence.
Daniel smiled.
“Margaret?”
“I was deciding whether your answer technically complied with my request.”
“You told me to call you before I bought anything.”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t bought anything.”
“Are you calling me before you buy it?”
“You called me.”
Another silence.
“That is exactly the kind of answer that makes attorneys expensive.”
“I thought it was billable hours.”
“Daniel.”
“I’m just going to look at it.”
“Who is selling it?”
“Commercial broker named Howard Brenner. I checked him. Licensed. Twenty-three years. No disciplinary actions I could find.”
“You checked his license?”
“Of course.”
“The property?”
“County records match the listing. Seller is an LLC. I haven’t dug through that yet.”
“Environmental issues?”
“Don’t know.”
“Title problems?”
“Don’t know.”
“Contamination?”
“Don’t know.”
“Structural condition?”
“Don’t know.”
“Flooding?”
“Don’t know.”
“Hazardous materials?”
“Don’t know.”
“Unexploded ordnance?”
Daniel paused.
“I hadn’t thought of that one.”
“I’m an attorney. We’re paid to ruin things.”
“I’ll add it to the list.”
“Daniel, please don’t sign anything today.”
“I won’t.”
“Not even something described as nonbinding.”
“I know what nonbinding means.”
“So do I. That’s why I’m telling you.”
Daniel glanced at the clock.
“I have to leave in fifteen minutes.”
“Where is it?”
“About two hours north.”
“And you’re driving?”
“Yes.”
“With the lottery ticket?”
“No. It’s in the safe-deposit box we arranged yesterday.”
“Good.”
“See? I’m trainable.”
“That remains to be established.”
The missile complex was not what Daniel expected.
That disappointed him.
He had envisioned something resembling a 1960s movie set: enormous blast doors, warning signs, guard towers and perhaps a faded stencil reading UNITED STATES AIR FORCE — KEEP OUT.
Instead, he found a chain-link fence surrounding several acres of weeds.
A gravel road led to a small concrete building with a flat roof.
There was a utility pole.
A rusted metal shed.
Three large cylindrical concrete structures protruded slightly above ground level.
That was about it.
Daniel parked beside a silver pickup.
A heavyset man in jeans and a blue button-down shirt walked toward him.
“Daniel Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Howard Brenner.”
They shook hands.
Howard gestured around them.
“Not much to look at from up here.”
“I was hoping for armed guards.”
“Those cost extra.”
“Missiles?”
“Definitely extra.”
Daniel liked him.
Howard unlocked the gate.
“What was this?”
“Atlas F site. Early sixties. Operational for only a few years. Government sold it decades ago. Couple owners since then.”
“Anybody live here?”
“One tried.”
“Tried?”
“You’ll understand.”
That sounded promising.
They walked toward the concrete building.
Daniel stopped.
“What are those?”
He pointed toward three squat concrete caps spaced across the property.
“Ventilation. Some were modified by previous owners.”
“Original?”
“Parts of them.”
Daniel took out his phone and photographed them.
Howard watched.
“You an engineer?”
“Systems analyst.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Engineers know what they’re doing.”
Howard laughed.
“Then you’re going to love this place.”
The first door was steel.
Not decorative steel.
Not residential-security steel.
It was the sort of door that seemed to have been designed by someone who expected whatever was outside to be extremely determined.
Howard unlocked it.
The hinges complained.
Inside was a concrete stairwell descending into darkness.
Daniel looked down.
“How far?”
“First level, about twenty-five feet.”
“First?”
Howard smiled.
“Come on.”
He switched on a flashlight.
Daniel followed.
The air changed immediately.
Cooler.
Still.
The sound of their footsteps bounced from concrete walls.
At the bottom of the stairs Howard unlocked another door.
Beyond it was a large room filled mostly with nothing.
Conduit ran along one wall. Several electrical panels looked considerably newer than the building.
Daniel slowly turned.
“How big is this room?”
“About fourteen hundred square feet.”
“This is the small part?”
“Yes.”
Daniel grinned.
Howard noticed.
“Don’t get excited yet.”
“Why?”
“Water.”
Daniel stopped grinning.
They found the water two levels down.
Not much.
A shallow puddle spread across one corner of a concrete floor.
Daniel crouched beside it.
“Where’s it coming from?”
“Probably groundwater infiltration. Could be drainage. Could be condensation. Could be something else.”
“When did it rain?”
“Four days ago.”
Daniel touched the concrete near the wall.
Damp.
He stood.
“Pump?”
“Previous owner installed one.”
“Automatic?”
“In theory.”
Daniel looked at him.
“In theory?”
Howard pointed.
A sump pump sat in a recessed pit.
A power cord ran toward an outlet.
Daniel followed it.
The plug lay on the floor.
He stared at it.
Howard shrugged.
“Previous owner.”
Daniel plugged it in.
The pump immediately came alive.
Water began disappearing from the pit.
Daniel watched it for several seconds.
“That,” he said, “is why people shouldn’t be allowed to operate equipment.”
“You’re thinking about buying a missile silo.”
“Different problem.”
The deeper they went, the more interesting the property became.
There were equipment rooms.
Storage areas.
Long passages.
Utility spaces.
A former control area.
And finally the silo itself.
Howard stopped at another steel door.
“This is the part everybody wants to see.”
He opened it.
Daniel stepped through.
And stopped.
“Oh.”
Howard smiled.
The cylindrical space disappeared downward farther than Daniel could immediately comprehend.
Steel platforms crossed portions of the shaft. Old structural components clung to the walls. Rust marked places where water had found its way through over the decades.
Daniel approached the railing carefully.
“How deep?”
“About a hundred eighty feet from the top structure.”
Daniel looked down.
His flashlight beam disappeared into darkness.
“This held the missile vertically?”
“Yep.”
“Underground?”
“Yep.”
“And they launched it from here?”
“Atlas F was stored vertically and fueled in the silo. It had to be raised for launch.”
Daniel stared into the shaft.
“That’s completely insane.”
“Cold War.”
“Fair point.”
He looked around again.
For the first time he stopped seeing an abandoned military facility.
He saw volume.
Structure.
Temperature stability.
Physical separation.
Equipment rooms.
Cable paths.
Space for batteries.
Space for servers.
Space for workshops.
Space for things he hadn’t thought of yet.
“How much power comes onto the property?”
Howard told him.
Daniel frowned.
“Not enough.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Howard gave him a sideways look.
“That answer worries me.”
“My attorney says that a lot.”
They spent almost four hours underground.
Daniel photographed everything.
Electrical panels.
Pipe penetrations.
Cracks.
Doors.
Drainage.
Ventilation equipment.
Old cable trays.
Anything with a manufacturer plate.
He dictated notes into his phone.
“Level two, northwest wall, possible water intrusion.”
Click.
“Main electrical service inadequate.”
Click.
“Ventilation unknown condition.”
Click.
“Elevator shaft?”
Howard looked over.
“Doesn’t work.”
Daniel photographed it.
“Elevator does not work.”
Click.
“Probably expensive.”
Howard nodded.
“Very.”
Daniel added:
“Elevator definitely needs to work.”
“You haven’t bought the place.”
“I know.”
Howard laughed.
“You’ve bought the place.”
“No.”
“In your head.”
Daniel lowered the phone.
“That doesn’t count.”
“It does in real estate.”
Back above ground, sunlight seemed unusually bright.
Daniel blinked.
“How long were we down there?”
“Three hours, forty-seven minutes.”
Daniel checked his phone.
Howard was right.
“You timed it?”
“No. You said four hours when we started down. It’s twelve minutes to two.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Systems analyst?”
“Real-estate broker.”
“Close enough.”
They walked toward the vehicles.
Daniel stopped halfway.
“Solar.”
Howard looked around.
“What about it?”
“Plenty of room.”
“You get good sun here.”
“Battery storage underground.”
“Probably.”
“Temperature stays pretty stable down there.”
“Mostly.”
“Internet?”
“Fiber runs along the highway. Getting it onto the property is another question.”
“Cell?”
Howard held up his phone.
One bar.
“Above ground.”
“Underground?”
Howard laughed.
“None.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
Daniel looked at the concrete structure.
“Means it won’t interfere with anything.”
“With what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Howard shook his head.
“You’re a strange guy, Daniel.”
“I just won the lottery.”
Howard stopped walking.
Daniel kept going.
After several steps he realized Howard wasn’t beside him.
He turned.
Howard was staring at him.
“What?”
“You what?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Shit.”
They stood beside Daniel’s car.
Howard folded his arms.
“How much?”
“I’m not supposed to tell anybody.”
“You just did.”
“Yes.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.