Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
A shiver of fear runs through me as I imagine a scenario that would require me to flee the house. I’m reassured as he takes me back past a small gym, storage and utility rooms, and into the central space, where he points out a steel door with a coded lock. “That’s our armory. Down the hall, there’s an armory overflow that doubles as a safe room. Sometimes staying in place is safer than running.”
I may never feel completely safe anywhere, ever again, but this secluded home with these more-than-capable military men seems like the best place I can be.
There’s another small room that houses multiple computer servers, and a dark alcove where Viper is stationed in front of two large monitors.
Atlas points to a counter in another corner that holds blueprints, tools, and various devices I can’t identify from a distance. “That’s where Grizz spends his time when he’s not out in the workshop or up in the kitchen.”
Several maps are hanging on another wall, and in the center of it all, there’s a massive desk with more monitors, adjacent to a long table, where Atlas pulls out one of the office-style swivel chairs for me.
Grizz lowers his large frame into the seat beside me, his thick forearm brushing mine, as Atlas slides a folder toward me. “Security briefing. To get you up to speed.”
Viper appears silently, like he often does, as I finger the edge of the cardstock before eventually flipping it open.
“We’ve confirmed Senator Vaughn’s ties extend beyond domestic players.” Atlas is calm and methodical as he indicates the names of both people and places on the papers in the folder. “Several overseas contacts flagged. We’re tracking financial movement through shell organizations—”
“The Vaughn Foundation account?”
Grizz nudges me gently. “You catch on quick.” His smile is an anchor in a sea of disorienting dread.
“We’re analyzing risk factors,” Atlas continues. “The short-term plan is to keep you here and keep you safe. The long-term plan involves gathering proof, creating leverage, and identifying and coordinating with the right federal contacts. Ones who aren’t in the senator’s pocket.”
“We’ll be vetting those contacts carefully,” Viper adds.
“You won’t be blindsided again,” Grizz says. “Not on our watch.”
“It’s at a big picture stage right now,” Atlas says. “We’ll keep you updated as details come together. Ask questions anytime.”
I’m surprised they were able to confirm some of the things I overheard so quickly. I’m also relieved they believed me.
Another thing that’s run through my mind when I’ve had trouble sleeping is how easy it would have been for these men to dismiss my information as paranoia or the product of a wild imagination. They not only believed me, they jumped right into the fight.
My throat is knotted with emotion. “Thank you all … for all of this.” I gesture to the dossier they prepared, all for my benefit. “I know what you’re putting yourselves into.”
“We’re already in it.” Atlas’s expression softens, but his tone is determined as he stacks the papers neatly back in the file with practiced precision.
Before pushing his chair back, Grizz puts his hand over mine and gives a squeeze. “If anyone comes for you, they’ll have to deal with us.”
Viper nods and disappears in the direction of his alcove as silently as he appeared.
“Do you feel up for a walk?” Atlas asks me. “It’s clear now, but more snow’s coming in a few hours.”
When I hesitate, Grizz says, “Fresh air will do you good.”
“I’ll need to borrow a coat,” I tell them, as I wonder if Atlas happened to buy shoes for me. I haven’t seen any sign of the white heels I was wearing on my wedding day, not that they’d do me much good out here in the woods.
He pulls out my chair and tilts his head toward the stairs. “Follow me.”
Grizz follows, too, up and into the mudroom that leads to their home’s front entrance.
Despite the room’s name and purpose, it’s as clean and orderly as the rest of the house, with benches, coat racks, cubbies, and a mop and broom propped in one corner.
Atlas gestures to a forest green puffer coat with a fur-trimmed hood that’s hanging on the rack. Directly below it on the bench, a green-and-gray plaid scarf, hat, and gloves are neatly folded and stacked. Below them, a new pair of women’s fur-lined boots sits on the clean floor.
“You're geared up and good to go,” he says.
The coat and boots fit well and are warm without being bulky. When I wrap the scarf around my neck and pull the hat on, I almost feel like someone who belongs in the mountains, rather than someone who stumbled into them desperate and half-frozen.
Atlas and Grizz put on hats and gloves, too, though their clothing items look like they’ve been worn through many a winter workday. I imagine Grizz must have to shop at a big and tall store or special order coats to fit his massive frame.