The Dreamer

Chapter 11: The Card

The Aloha Emporium. Sunday, January 30, 2005.

Neal knew that Mozzie had appropriated space in Billy's basement at the Aloha Emporium for an office, but the term bunker implied he'd moved far beyond that. What invasion was he preparing for?

He followed Mozzie to a backroom. The store was bustling with midday shoppers and the brunch crowd. Billy's waffles with lilikoi butter, a curd made with passion fruit and honey, were justly famous. Sniffing the air, Neal was for a brief moment tempted to hold Mozzie off, but the lure of the bunker couldn't be denied.

Mozzie led the way to a keypad-controlled door that opened onto a narrow staircase used to access the basement. When Mozzie turned on the lights, Neal saw himself in a cavernous empty room. The space was meticulously clean with a smooth concrete floor. One section had been covered with a sparring mat. Neal had long suspected Billy had a martial arts studio in the basement—Mozzie had told him that Billy was a wushu master— but Billy never wanted to talk about it. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors had been installed along one wall. Large wooden cabinets lined the other walls. Neal assumed they contained equipment and weapons.

Mozzie approached one of the cabinets on the far wall that had been equipped with an electronic lock. "Fingerprint enabled?" Neal asked.

He nodded. "Along with a PIN code. I used the highest rating in my Columbia code system, Smew, along with the code for Mudd Hall. In the event of power failure, the lock is intricate enough to foil all miscreants. Bring all your lock picks if you ever need to open it."

Neal made a reverential bow. "Yes, sensei master."

Mozzie gestured for Neal to open the lock. When Neal scanned his fingerprint and keyed in the code, the door opened silently with the light coming on automatically in the space beyond. The cabinet acted as a threshold to a room roughly twelve by eighteen feet. Every available inch on the walls was taken up by shelving units, a built-in desk, and cabinets. Everywhere he looked, he saw books, equipment, and electronics. Three computers were grouped in a row so Mozzie could roll in his office chair from one to the other. A worktable was in the center, piled high with more equipment. A futon was along one wall. Neal smiled when he saw the poster of a UFO with the caption "I want to believe" tacked on the wall. There was even a small kitchenette with a sink, microwave, fridge, and large wine rack. A door in the back opened onto a small bathroom.

"The cabinet entrance is reinforced steel under the wooden veneer," Mozzie said proudly. "My bathroom pod arrived last week."

"Is this for when the Hitler clones land?"

"One should always be ready," he replied darkly. "My bunker has backup power and ventilation systems. I plan to install an air purifier and water recycling system. Now, pay attention." He walked over to the bookcase next to the bathroom door and removed a book, revealing a lock behind it. When he twirled the lock, a soft snap was heard. Stepping back, he pulled on the bookcase. It swung on silent hinges to reveal a cavity about four feet high and wide enough for a man to slide through.

Neal peered into the passageway. "This looks like part of the Columbia tunnel system."

Mozzie nodded confirmation. "You are the only one besides me and the Mole who knows of its existence. Billy has seen the room but not this entrance."

"The Mole?"

"He helped with the necessary excavation and installation. The Mole and I go back a long way."

Neal had no idea who the Mole was, but much of Mozzie's life before they met was still a blank.

"You remember that crevice you discovered at the supposed tunnel terminus on 114th Street back in November?" Mozzie said. "I investigated it further over the holidays and discovered an undocumented tunnel extension that extends it for one block south. I can now use the tunnel system from here all the way up to the northern boundary of the campus at 120th Street. This is the refuge of my dreams—my ultimate bolthole."