Inside Cheyenne Mountain: Behind the Blast Door

The blast door is open. Behind it, a clean white corridor carved into raw granite disappears into the mountain. Military seals flank the entrance — NORAD, Air Force Space Command, the Department of Defense. A sign reads Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain Complex. A general’s nameplate sits on a pedestal by the stairs. Everything is polished, orderly, and deeply unsettling.

This is what the inside of a mountain looks like when you spend $142.4 million hollowing it out and then sixty years modernizing it. The raw rock walls remind you that you are inside a mountain. The fluorescent lighting and conduit runs remind you that this is a functioning military installation. The seals remind you whose mountain it is.

Cheyenne Mountain was declared “on warm standby” in 2006, with NORAD’s day-to-day operations moved to nearby Peterson Air Force Base. The media reported this as a drawdown. It was a reclassification. In 2015, the Pentagon announced it was moving critical communications equipment back into Cheyenne Mountain, citing the need for EMP-hardened infrastructure. In July 2024, the facility received a $51.4 million modernization contract.

You do not spend $51.4 million modernizing a facility on “warm standby.” You spend that money on a facility that is fully operational and expanding its capabilities.

The Department of Defense does not deny that Cheyenne Mountain exists. It does not deny its purpose. It simply controls how much you are allowed to know about what happens inside. The blast door opens for official photographs and closes for everything else. The corridor beyond that door leads deeper than any press tour has ever gone.

What lies at the end of that corridor is the question this book was written to answer.

Transhumane Genocide: The Underground Report — available soon.