Dom and Ernie's Thunder Hill reconnaissance

Dom Corvaisis and Ernie Block’s reconnaissance of Thunder Hill Depository turns a cautiously optimistic survey into a demonstration of how thoroughly the facility is protected. They set out to inspect its perimeter, but the electrified fence, hardened entrance, and armed observer make clear that even approaching the site is being watched.

The expedition begins

Early on Tuesday morning, Dom Corvaisis and Ernie Block took Jack Twist’s Jeep Cherokee from the Tranquility Motel to reconnoiter at least part of Thunder Hill’s perimeter. Jack Twist remained at the motel, asleep after only a few hours of rest. He had spent much of the night driving around Elko and staying on the move with Brendan Cronin and Jorja Monatella. The Jeep was the more reliable choice for the trip: both it and the motel’s Dodge van had four-wheel drive, but the Cherokee was tougher and more maneuverable for mountain roads that might be icy before a major snowstorm.

The weather lent urgency to that practical decision. Thick clouds hung low over the high plains and obscured the mountain tops; the forecast called for the first major storm of the season and as much as fourteen inches of snow at higher elevations. The snow had not started falling, but the landscape was already changing. Three miles from their starting point they reached the snow line, and over the next two miles the covering deepened to eight inches. After a dry stretch from September to early December, several light snowfalls had left a substantial groundcover and frosted the evergreen branches.

Despite the approaching storm, Dom Corvaisis and Ernie Block were in high spirits. For once, they were acting rather than merely reacting, and the survey offered the companionship of an expedition shared between people who liked each other. That ease would not survive their first close look at the facility.

The entrance and its defenses

The county road remained clear despite scattered ice. Ernie Block explained that crews maintained it as far as Thunder Hill, though the road beyond the Depository received less attention. After ten miles, following a valley with rising mountains to the west and open, ranch-dotted land to the east, they reached the guarded entrance. Ernie Block slowed but did not turn in; he had not been there for a long time and remarked that the installation looked more formidable than he remembered.

The entrance made that impression concrete. A paved lane disappeared between tall pines, but metal spikes set into the pavement barred the way fifteen feet beyond the turnoff. Their angle could puncture tires, while their size could catch the axle of a fast-moving vehicle. Beyond them stood a massive red steel gate topped with spears and a concrete-block guardhouse with a black metal door. An intercom post appeared to include a video monitor, so a guard could see visitors before approving entry. Ernie Block suspected that fixed machine guns could cover the gate as well.

The fence extending from either end of the gate was eight feet high, topped with barbed wire, and marked as electrified. The cleared strip beside it left no trees overhanging the barrier. Ernie Block pointed out that the road spikes and stronger gate were new since his previous visit; the fence had existed earlier, but had not then been electrified. The comparison established that security had not merely been formidable: it had been expanded.

From the road to the fence

The scale of the outer defenses changed Dom Corvaisis’s expectations. He had assumed that perimeter security might be limited because the facility itself was protected by blast doors eight or ten feet thick, set into the hillside. Such a barrier had seemed sufficient to secure the underground complex. The extensive precautions beyond it suggested instead that the secret inside was considered too important to trust even to nuclearproof doors and subterranean limestone vaults alone.

Their hopes had been modest but real. From the motel, reaching the grounds, inspecting them, or stumbling across another clue had not seemed impossible, even though Dom Corvaisis had never expected to enter the underground rooms. At the gate, he acknowledged that there was no chance of getting inside. He briefly considered whether his newly discovered telekinetic powers might bypass the defenses, then rejected the idea: he could not control the power, feared the destruction it might cause, and would not risk using it again outside tightly controlled conditions.

Rather than approach the gate, Ernie Block proposed inspecting the fence. They left the Cherokee and walked down into a sloping meadow, where ten inches of snow came to just below their boot tops. The electrified fence turned away from the county road and descended toward the valley floor. After slogging about two hundred yards, they could see the enormous steel blast doors in the valley wall. They saw no human or canine guards, and the snow on the far side bore neither footprints nor pawprints. Ernie Block reasoned that the absence of visible patrol tracks did not make the perimeter lax; it implied that electronic security must be doing the work.

The watchers

Even while examining the fence, Dom Corvaisis remained concerned that the men in the all-terrain pickup following them might tamper with the Cherokee. The truck had been less than a hundred yards behind them on the road. Its oversized tires, roof-mounted spotlights, raised snowplow, and tinted windshield gave it a military appearance, though Dom Corvaisis could not be certain that it was not privately owned. Its driver remained concealed.

The surveillance became unmistakable when Dom Corvaisis looked back toward the upper meadow and saw a man in dark clothing standing roughly 180 yards above them. The man was not near the Jeep and appeared to be watching the two men rather than interfering with their vehicle. Ernie Block, carrying a Winchester and binoculars, identified the observer’s coat as a regulation Army greatcoat. He judged the display deliberate: in the open landscape, stealth was difficult, and the observer could make sure they saw the weapon he carried. Ernie Block recognized it as a Belgian FN submachine gun capable of firing up to six hundred rounds per minute.

The reconnaissance therefore reveals two linked obstacles without showing what lies behind them: an installation whose visible defenses have been strengthened, and military attention directed at the visitors surveying those defenses. The men set out with the camaraderie and anticipation of a scouting trip; they ended this stretch of their inspection under the gaze of an armed soldier, with their route and purpose no longer theirs alone to control.