Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
It was the man. Who had brought Gus back. The one with the robes.
Outside in the foyer, footfalls sounded in a rush.
“No!” she said as she burst up. “Wait!”
She was shouting as she ran out and down the hall. “Stop!”
The guards who had assembled and were checking their weapons turned to statues, like they were a postmodern exhibition commenting on the nature of war.
“We need him,” she said. “Subdue him if you have to, but do not kill him.”
Her head of security nodded curtly. “Yes, ma’am.”
From all around, a quiet whirring permeated the house as the window reinforcements came down over every square inch of glass, and at the same time, the men marched out the front door, fanning to the left and right in some kind of formation they had no doubt practiced in person as well as theory. Then the main entrance slammed shut and locked itself.
She rushed back to her study, and shoved her face to the screen.
Her guards moved in perfect sequence, guns double-handed and up in front, beams of light and red laser sights focusing on the solitary man.
Who merely halted and put his hands up.
The red robes, and the striking face, were exactly what she’d seen on the previous feeds from the night Gus had been brought home—
All at once, her guards froze, as if they were a unit with a single brain. And then the roles were reversed. Now the figure was the one who was closing the distance.
“What the hell are you doing?” She tapped the computer screen—like that was going to help wake the guards up? “What the fuck are you…”
Her voice drifted off as the man in the robes walked through the lineup of uniformed, weaponed guards, and as soon as he was on the other side, the squadron turned, reholstered their guns, and followed him in a little line. Like they were ducklings after momma.
The red-robed figure walked to one of the sets of doors of the back terrace. And then her head of security went to the keypad—and punched in the access code. Of course he was denied entrance, because everything that had happened in that field had been seen by the security detail inside.
But as he tilted his head and spoke into his shoulder communicator, the red-robed figure looked up and cocked an eyebrow at the camera. Like he couldn’t fathom the delay.
Cathy told herself to stay put. But then she remembered him bringing back the man… she loved.
Without thinking, she burst up and ran back out of the study. Triggering a hidden door off to the side in the hall, she entered the master code, the one that nobody but her knew, the one that did not require secondary approval. As the seal breached, she jogged a short distance, pushed a panel release, and jumped free to land on the terrace.
Alerted by the noise, the man in the red robes turned around, and as curls of cold air swirled about him, it was as if he were about to take flight.
“Who are you,” she asked.
“Forgive me,” he said in a heavily accented voice, “for my trespassing. But I am here for Daniel Joseph. Is he in?”
Cathy shook her head. “I… what?”
“Daniel—”
“No, I got that. I just—who the hell are you? And you brought Gus back. And—”
The man glanced over at her head of security and gave a nod. Without any hesitation, like a trained dog, the guy she had hired to coordinate everything in a time of conflict and chaos backed off some.
And took everybody else with him.
“What have you done with them? What are you—”
“Worry not, I have come in peace.” The robed figure indicated the lineup that was retreating. “And I figure you would prefer those back inside?”
“Who… are you.”
“As I told you, I am a friend who has come in peace… who has something Daniel Joseph needs, desperately.”
* * *
Lydia’s first clue that Daniel might possibly be coming around was a tightening of their entwined fingers—except then she wasn’t sure whether she had shifted her grip or if it had been him. Lying beside him in the hospital bed, she listened to the beeping that was not quite even and then reminded herself that there was no alarm going off. She might not understand what all the monitor was showing, but she knew when there was no screaming noise.
Gus was right, no alarm was good.
“Knock knock,” she whispered as she stared at Daniel’s eyelashes as they rested on his cheek. Then she filled in his response. “Who’s there. Feisty. Feisty—no, that isn’t right. What was it again?”
The joke totally derailed because she couldn’t remember which part came next, and was confused about the punchline—and besides, as she had lost her partner in the back-and-forth, what did it matter anyway.
And this was pretty much what the rest of her life was going to be like… without Daniel.