It took him hours, but he finally reached Silo No. 13 … and it was just like the previous twelve.
Covering his delighted smile, Smith looked at the sign over the door as he and the Colodoran engineer exited the silo. At last he was doing real secret agent stuff. Another missile retargeted to save the Free World.
“All in a day’s work,” Smith said, jingling the collection of keys he carried. “Got to make sure we do it all correctly, no mistakes.”
“It’s so nice to have somebody trained in Russia verify my work!” The dark-haired engineer followed him like a puppy dog. “You didn’t find any serious errors, did you? I’m usually very careful, but we’ve had the in-laws visiting, and there’s the soccer-team bake sale coming up, and it’s been so hectic.”
“Well, six of the guidance coordinates wer
