Denton stepped into the oval-shaped security control room, a sports bag in one hand. The room’s otherwise featureless walls were broken by an array of monitors that offered just a sample of the surveillance images transmitted from the 968 cameras strategically placed throughout the Desecheo Island facility. The cameras themselves were on timers controlled by six control-room operators. To Denton’s right, a temperature-controlled compartment held a petabyte array that faithfully recorded everything the cameras could see.
The security chief, a solid man in his late forties with flushed cheeks and ill-fitting glasses, said without looking up from the operator-manned computers, ‘Colonel, could you take a look at this?’
Denton tucked his sports bag under a desk and marched over to the monitor
