1st Lieutenant Mike Mitchel had practically grown up in the saddle as a young man and loved anything having to do with horses or horsemanship. At twenty five, he was 6' tall, had blond hair, with a fair complexion and weighing in at 250 lb, he was truly a cowboy. He loved ranch work, could rope a calf, from horseback at a full gallop and knew ranch work well.

That was the reason, that when the time came for him to serve his country, as all the young men he had grown up with, had with planned to do. He Joined the U.S. Army, hoping to be assigned to cavalry duty when he graduated from college and started active duty.

Upon graduation with promotion, 1st Lt. Mitchel was recruited by the government's Secret Service to do some undercover military work within the United States. His scores and qualifications in training, not to mention his pre-military experience as a ranch hand and cattleman, made him perfect for this particular posting, he was told by the recruiter, a rather dour, dark, sunglasses wearing, negro fellow, named Jones, who didn't seem to have a sense of humor.

He was amazed at the offered posting. He would be responsible for maintaining the security of a secret, underground, military R&D site and run a working ranch and farm at the same time. He would be the second in command of an underground military testing facility, an awesome responsibility for a 1st Lieutenant and quite a feather in the cap of any military officer.

He would be responsible for running the day to day operations of an actual ranch and farm, during a lock-down within the testing facility during the testing of secret military developments. The OIC would be within the facility during a lock-down and manage the internal operations of the facility, while he would maintain security and operate as if the OIC were there, as a cover from civilian interference.

Mike knew that even for just a regular Foreman of a ranch of nine square miles would be a chore all by itself. Yet, he was eager to take on the posting. It would mean for his part, many hours in the saddle on patrol of the ranch. Cattle need tending, just as sheep and other animals raised on a ranch/farm combination, horses are quieter than small SUVs and can go places that they can't go. 1st Lt. Mitchel performed his due diligence by getting all of the data he could on the property that was publicly available.

Lt. Mitchel's orders were to meet an agent at the federal building and he arrived at 0600 sharp.

Lt. Mitchel was met in the lobby by a pale, dour, expressionless, dark glasses wearing man, who was dressed in a black suit, with a thin, black, neck tie. “I am Special Agent Smith of Homeland Security, here are your orders. Follow me.” He said in a flat tone, handing Lt. Mitchel a manila envelope. He then led Lt. Mitchel, back into the parking structure to where a staff car, with an identically dressed driver to himself, was waiting.

Lt. Mitchel, noticed two other men walking to the staff car as well.

And sure enough, the man dressed in business casual attire with a laboratory smock as an over coat, was accompanied by another clone of the other two men, dressed in black, looking just as dour, wearing black glasses. Lt. Mike Mitchel felt an unconscious chill go down the center of his back at the gathering of these identically dressed men, who didn't smile, at all.

“This is 1st Lieutenant Mike Mitchel and Special Agent Smith of Homeland Security, they will accompany you to the facility. Gentlemen, this is Dr. Jacob Swan Sr. PhD. Good bye.” Said the man to Dr Swan. Then, he turned and left the parking structure.

Dr Swan looked at Special Agent Smith of Homeland Security, then at Lt. Mike Mitchel, nodded, shrugged and got into the staff car wordlessly, holding his briefcase close to his chest.

Lt. Mike Mitchel watched Dr Swan, nodding to him in understanding and got into the staff car, preparing for the awkward, silent, ride to the facility.

Within about fifteen minutes they were pulling into the driveway of a large ranch house in a rural area south east of the large city of the area.