The dented cone on top of the squat concrete bunker spat the command with a hiss of static. The lights either side of the door flicked from red to green and in lockstep the line shuffled a single pace forward. Guards in fur-flapped hats and thick olive green coats shuffled their grip on relics of guns, churned out in their thousands and used until they fell apart they had the misfortune of being one of the few things in this world with any semblance of reliability.
Razor wire lined the wall, the bunker forming the only gap in it. Dogs circled on chain link leashes, sniffing for bombs, sniffing for fear.
Through the heavy door they stepped, like an airlock, the membrane that would either admit them or curse them to never see what lay beyond that dreadful wall.
It was her turn. In she went.
She approaches the counter, the heavy rolling steel shutter poised above like a guillotine.
She looks through the screen, the thick bullet proof glass, and sta