There was a vivid spring greenness about the grass and foliage that
Matt couldn't recall having seen outside of England. To their left, the
muddy Salt emptied into the muddy Ohio behind them. The turf underfoot
was soft and springy.
Flanked by Nesbit and Isaac Trigg, Matt crossed to the disused drive.
Dead leaves and twigs littered it all the way to the gate, where
it disappeared through heavy steel doors into the fort. The doors
themselves, large enough to admit a freight car, stood open, a drift of
dead leaves piled against one massive panel.
"It's bristling with guns!" Isaac Trigg pointed at a row of slots that
ran across the second story. The grim snouts of fifty-calibre machine
guns poked wickedly through the embrasures.
Matt shifted his rifle into a handier position. He had seen the canvas
covered barrel of a 5.35 dual-purpose anti-aircraft gun on the roof.
Above the third floor, rows of windows began, narrow slits closed with
heavy bulletproof glass. Higher up, he made out banks of rocket guns.
"Seven months," he said half to himself.
"Eh?"
"I was thinking that only seven months have elapsed since these guns
were serviced. We should have no trouble getting them into operation."
He paused before the gaping entrance, peering into the dark cavern
ahead of them. "Get out your light," he told Nesbit.
The younger man snapped on his flash, the blade of light piercing the
gloom. The drive, Matt saw, led into a vaulted hall. Along one side ran
freight elevators. A loading platform lined the opposite wall. At the
rear, a spiral ramp led up from the basement to the floors above. An
abandoned truck was still in one of the elevators.
"If we can get the truck running," suggested Nesbit, "we can move the
equipment faster."