"Isn't that a bit convenient though? The US government just 
happens to drop an A-Bomb in Nevada the same day the worst 
natural disaster in history — tornados that are a/so in Nevada — 
ends?" 


"So get some meteorologist to claim that the bomb created a 
change in the atmosphere that caused the storm cells to dissipate. | 
don't know, I'm not a scientist, but it seems a plausible explanation, 
and one that will make the residents view the testing positively." 


Dr. Keller bit the inside of his cheek. "It could work..." 
"It will work," corrected Bruce. "But we need to drop more." 
"What?" 


"One detonation isn't a test, it's a mistake. But if we drop more, 
people will assume the first wasn't an accident." 


"More?" sputtered Dr. Keller. "More? Did you hear what | said? The 
fallout is getting pushed into Utah." 


"| heard what you said. And | also heard you say that we didn't know 
if the first one was successful or not. So I'm saying drop another 
one. Hell, drop two or three more." 


Dr. Keller shook his head vigorously, but Bruce knew he'd already 
won. They were backed into a corner with no other way out. 


"One maybe," Dr. Keller said. "But more? | can't believe the 
residents of Las Vegas would stand for it." 


"Sure they will," he persisted. "We'll advertise it as a tourist 
attraction. 'Come to Vegas and Celebrate the Fourth of July with the 
biggest fireworks display in the world.’ That sort of thing. We'll make 
it patriotic and good for business. And the locals will eat it up." 


9 


The helicopter was shielded and didn't dive into a tailspin following 
the EMP blast. It shook and rattled with the shockwave, an alarm 
blared and Irvine felt like he'd been set to the tumble dry setting, but 


they retained their altitude. 


After the blistering, trillion-watt flashbulb receded, he hazarded a 
glance. A pillowy mushroom cloud, like a volcanic eruption, rose into 
the stratosphere three miles away. 


"Detonation confirmed," the pilot reported with awe. 


"Copy, Man-Eaters. Please verify Target Wintermute has been 
neutralized." 


"Negative, Mercury," Irvine said. "We do not have eyes on target. It 
appears to be a direct hit, but if there's anything left to see of 
Wintermute it's obscured." 


"Copy. We're en route to you. Maintain a holding pattern around the 
impact site at a safe distance and report any change in status." 


"Roger that." 


The bird described a wide circle around the stem of the cloud, both 
pilot and passenger scanning the ground for any signs of life. There 
was nothing except for burning sagebrush and pinon-juniper, and a 
mirror shine where sand had fused to glass. Irvine wondered just 
how safe they really were this close to ground zero. The windows of 
the helicopter appeared to be polarized, but he doubted that would 
stop gamma rays. A creeping dose of radiation — dying only after 
several agonizing days, spraying blood from both ends and having 
his hair and fingernails fall out, wasn't exactly Irvine's ideal way to 


go. 


He voiced his concerns. Mercury reassured him: "You're definitely 
soaking up more than is recommended, probably two or three years’ 
worth of normal background radiation in a couple of minutes, but you 
should be okay. It's like having a couple of x-rays at the hospital. 
Just wait until we arrive and we'll get you out of there." 


Irvine wasn't so sure about that, but he was too tired to argue. 
"Yeah, and how long is that going to be?" he said. 


"We have a team already in the area. Ten minutes, tops." 


Ten minutes. Ten more minutes. He could handle that. Then, as 
long as the skip didn't re-emerge suddenly like the villain at the end 
of a bad horror film, he'd go through radioactive decontamination for 
the next several days. As the commanding officer in the field he was 
also required to write up an after-action report for the Foundation's 
records. When it was all said and done he was probably looking at 
another week before he could go home. 


10 


"| have some good news for you,” Dr. Keller said to Bruce on 
Sunday morning, as they ate breakfast in his office. "You'll be going 
home shortly — in another hour or two, I'd say. The SOC has 
approved our proposition." 


He tapped a newspaper with a yellowed, nicotine-stained finger. It 
was the Las Vegas Sun. The front-page story pertained to the 
Atomic Energy Commission and the US Department of Energy 
commencing nuclear testing — as scheduled — at the new Nevada 
Test Site. The paper conveniently contained another copy of the 
handbill it purported to have originally published seventeen days 
earlier. 


WARNING 
January 11, 1951 


From this day forward the U.S. Atomic Energy 
Commission has been authorized to use part of the Las 
Vegas Bombing and Gunnery Range for test work 
necessary to the atomic weapons development program. 


Test activities will include experimental nuclear 
detonations for the development of atomic bombs — so 
called "A-Bombs" — carried out under controlled 
conditions. 


Tests will be conducted on a routine basis for an 
indefinite period. 


NO PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE TIME OF ANY 


only trace amounts of powder and steam are emitted when SCP-865 
is fired. Attempts to determine what happens to the bullet when 
SCP-865 is fired have yielded no results. 


When fired into the air, at inanimate objects, or at non-human 
animals, SCP-865 presents no anomalous effects. When fired at a 
human being, the target immediately reacts as if the body part 
SCP-865 was aimed at when fired were in intense pain. Test 
subjects have claimed detailed memories of suffering a severe 
accidental injury to the targeted body part, and will behave at all 
times as if the memory is factual, up to and including mimicry of 
conditions associated with paraplegia, amputation, infection, or brain 
damage. Physical examination of test subjects indicates that no 
physical change occurs in body parts SCP-865 has been fired at. To 
date, no fatalities have resulted from SCP-865 testing. When fired at 
oneself, SCP-865 has no effect other than inflicting burns due to 
unignited gunpowder. 


SCP-865 was acquired by the Foundation on / /20 during a raid 
on a warehouse owned by a front company associated with 
Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd. SCP-865 was found in a glass 
display case with a paper containing the following copy, believed to 
have been written as an advertisement; 


The end result of over 17 years of research and 
development, the MCD-226-BPD represents the ultimate 
in non-lethal discipline for the discreet gentleman who 
expects the most from his subordinates. Each round fired 
from this hand-crafted, custom-made device is capable 
of transmitting up to 7.3 kilosades of psychological 
trauma to its target, and is 100% guaranteed to leave no 
incriminating wounds, bruises, or scars. For your 
convenience, the MCD-226-BPD may be loaded with any 
standard ammunition for a weapon of its type, or with our 
custom-made MCD-BPD ammunition (Item 
#2301943-581-3, sold separately) for best results and 
seamless shell disposal. A wide variety of customization 
options are available; consult one of our Client 
Satisfaction Specialists to help create the model that 
best fits your style and demeanor. 


TEST WILL BE MADE 


Unauthorized persons who pass inside the limits of the 
Las Vegas Bombing and Gunnery Range may be subject 
to inquiry from or as a result of the AEC test activites. 


Health and safety authorities have determined that no 
danger from or as a result of AEC test activities may be 
expected outside the limits of the Las Vegas Bombing 
and Gunnery Range. All necessary precautions, 
including radiological surveys and patrolling of the 
surrounding territory, will be undertaken to insure that 
safety conditions are maintained. 


Full security restrictions of the Atomic Energy Act will 
apply to the work of this area. 


RALPH P. JOHNSON, Project Manager 
Las Vegas Project Office 
U.S. Atomic Energy Commission 


"Pretty good," Bruce said, bobbing his head. 


"It's the work of our Red Herrings team. Television and radio news 
broadcasts will be doling out much of the same. Funding has also 
been set aside for the paid consent of prominent local figures — 
politicians and businessmen, people in the entertainment industry, 
as well as a random assortment of individuals who display a 
proclivity toward subornation. Another detonation is planned for later 
today. We still have a lot of work ahead of us in regards to the clean 
up, but we were extremely lucky, all things considered. The 
Foundation's base in Mercury is to be scrubbed clean and will be 
turned over to the federal government, along with the surrounding 
land. All of it's going to be consolidated under the Nellis Air Force 
base." 


"How were we lucky?" 


Dr. Keller said, "The United States has been seeking continental 
atomic weapon testing ever since the end of the Pacific theater, and 
initial surveys indicate the Frenchman Flat — where we dropped the 


bomb — is suitable for both atmospheric and underground 
detonations. That, in combination with its relative seclusion and lack 
of flora and fauna make it a favorable location for continued testing." 


"Except of course for the people living nearby in Las Vegas." 

"Of course." 

"So really it couldn't have happened in a better place," Bruce said. 
"It's unfortunate, but under the circumstances... yes." 


Bruce would never remember his three days spent at the 
Foundation compound. On his return flight home he helped himself 
to the wet bar in the passenger cabin's galley, indulging in the wide 
selection of whiskey that was available. The alcohol was laced with 
a Class-C amnestic. He awoke on Interstate-84 in the backseat of a 
cab. He had a splitting headache and reeked of booze. His mouth 
tasted as if he'd been eating out of a dumpster. 


The time on his watch had been forwarded three hours to match the 
Eastern Time Zone. Aware of the clasp's loose pin, they'd been 
much more careful this time. 


11 
OPERATION RANGER 
STATUS REPORT 


FOUNDATION OVERSIGHT COMMAND 
CLASSIFICATION: Top Secret 
MEMORANDUM FOR: Operation Ranger 
Date: 02/02/1951 


From: Wesley Peebles, S.O.W., C.S.D 
L4 FD Div Operations and Strategy 


To: Jeffrey Campbell, O5 


Target: Confirmed TERMINATION of target 
WINTERMUTE. No reported sighting or activity of target 
since initial nuclear bomb ABLE detonation on January 
27, 1951. All subsequent projects of operation have 
CEASED except for the continuation of TOPEKA and 
initiation of BLUE BLINDERS. 


Resource Assessment: MTF Epsilon-4 ("Slanted and 
Enchanted") status updated to KIA for all members. MTF 
Eta-8 ("Man-Eaters") suffered 0 casualties and is 
available for active duty. MTF Gamma-5 ("Red Herrings") 
is currently ENGAGED with projects TOPEKA and BLUE 
BLINDERS. 


Outcome: Loss of civilian life and property has been 
severe. DEATH TOLL currently estimated at 77214 and 
impact zone spans from western OKLAHOMA 
throughout a majority of NEVADA. Clean up and repair 
expected to take 3-5 YEARS and potentially cost one 
BILLION dollars US currency. Financial burden shifted to 
personal, insurance, US taxpayer and STATE/FEDERAL 
government agencies. 


OPERATION RANGER continues as nuclear test series. 
Scheduled tests are as follows: 


Name Yieid Status 

Baker 8 kilotons Detonation 
January, 28 1951 

Easy 1 kiloton Detonation 
February 1, 1957. 
Baker 2 8 kilotons Approved. Date 

TBD. 

Fox 22 kilotons Approved. Date 


TBD. 


Heartfelt 


Release of D-Class Form AE-2600 


Name: Samuel Allen Dierks 
Serial: D-5150 

Incarceration Date: 03/23/2004 
Induction Date: 02/12/2019 
Record: [EXPUNGED] 
Release Date: 08/05/19 


Notes: As agreed to upon acquiring D-Class status, 
D-5150 has been hereby pardoned by the Governor of 
the State of [REDACTED] and is to be released into the 
custody of his family, with the following stipulations: 


¢ A 10-year mandatory period of rehabilitative 
parole, as mandated by the laws and regulations 
of the state of [REDACTED]; 

¢ A yearly examination by Foundation Medical staff, 
and; 

¢ Upon death, the cadaver of D-5150 is to be 
donated to the Foundation for post-mortem 
examination. 


THEREFORE, in agreeance with the terms laid out 
herein, and with the agreeance of all parties involved, 
D-5150 is hereby freed, effective as above. 


Congratulations, Mr. Dierks, and good luck in your future 
endeavors. 


Signed, 


Site Administrator 


Blake was waiting for me in the parking lot. 
"Sam? SAM!" 


He ran towards me, tears in his eyes. He stopped within two steps of 
me, and looked at me. How different | looked. The last time he saw 
me was at a visitation in Supermax, almost 13 years ago. I'm sure 
my balding head, the growing middle-aged paunch, and the extra 
wrinkles made me look quite different than what he was expecting. 


He looked different too. A decade and a half will do that to a kid. My 
little brother was all grown up now. He was 15 when | went in, just a 
chubby kid who talked a lot and always got on my nerves. Now... 
Jesus, look at him. He'd turned into a handsome man. He looked a 
lot like Pops. 


Pops. 


| wrapped my arms around him, and we cried. 


"And that's the last thing you remember?" 
"Yup." 

"Did it leave a scar?" 

"Oh yeah." 


Pulling up my shirt, | showed him the scar from the transplant 
surgery, and knocked my knuckles against my breastbone. "Brand 
new ticker in there. Top of the line, the best that medicine had to 
offer." 


"Holy shit." He looked at me for a second, as if to ask Can / touch it? 
He ran a finger over the incision site, eyes full of wonder. 


| smiled at him, he smiled at me. "Hard to believe." Nodding, | pulled 
my shirt back down and looked away. "Yeah. Hard to believe." 


A beat. We both stared into our coffee cups. 
"Sam... you were in for life. No parole." 
"| know." 


Tears were welling in his eyes, something that would be kind of a 
common occurrence for those | talked to in the immediate future. 
"You got a second chance." 


"Two of them. In a row." 
"Yeah. How's that work?" He chuckled softly, and wiped his eyes. 
"| don't know, brother. | don't know." 


Our eyes met our coffee cups again. What do you say in a moment 
like this? When there's so many questions you need to ask, but the 
words are impossible. 


In this case, you say nothing, and you flag the waitress down for the 
check. 


Readjusting to life is hard. 15 years of routine changes you. 


Every morning, | wake up at 6:00 am without an alarm. | cradle a 
cup of black coffee and wait for the sun to come up. At 7, usually, | 
go out for a jog. By 8, | have a couple of fresh eggs over-easy and 
some toast. 


| head out to Paul's farm in an old Dodge Ram that runs for a few 
dozen miles at a time. He pays me to work on whatever needs to be 
worked on- sometimes it's fixing up one of the tractors, or a hay 
baler. In the summer, it's hauling hay. Sometimes I'm feeding the 
cows, looking over the herd, keeping count. They're not quite tame. 
The younger ones are curious, they approach carefully and might 
sniff your hand. The older ones keep their distance. 


Come lunchtime, | read the paper, and eat the sandwich | packed 
that morning. If it was a good week, | might get the nice turkey from 
the deli counter at the grocery store. Most of the time, it's budget 


bologna. 


| keep to myself. The other farmhands are young, and full of wild 
ideas and crazy dreams. They talk about last weekend's party, or 
this girl and that girl. Never really engaging, | keep my head down 
and my mouth shut.