Penetrating the security at Anacostia Naval Support Facility had been a pleasure. Much quieter than Andrews, this was the forward base of the nation’s VIP helos. Most of the helicopters of HMX-1 were parked at Quantico. But a full flight of birds were kept here, close to downtown, in case there was an urgent call for a Marine One flight.
Military security, even one run by mere Marines, was like old home week. Emily moved slowly inward through increasing levels, until finally only hangar-authorized personnel remained.
She stepped through the door and was home. The rising sun rammed into the hangar through the wide-open main doors, catching a thousand dust motes dancing over ten helos. A stiff breeze pushed against her as the open hangar doors funneled every bit of dew-fresh air through th
