Time of Fate (Wealth of Time Series #6) Andre Gonzalez (best books for 20 year olds .TXT) 📖

as he trudged down the road, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, hand on the pistol tucked in his waistband. His old legs cried out for help, but they’d have to wait for rest that would be plentiful once he arrived to the cabin with nothing to do but hunker down inside.

While it wasn’t a vacation by any means, Chris found himself looking forward to the isolation and temporary absence from the day-to-day operations of the Revolution. He didn’t worry about his organization. The Road Runners might blow up a couple more of their offices, but that would only be a distraction. All they wanted at this point in the game was Chris. He’d be surprised if they actually spent their time and energy on anything else besides catching him.

He reached the point where the road broke east toward the small town, but he kept forward, stepping into the uneven terrain of the woods. Chris stopped and unzipped the duffel bag, pulling out the flashlight and flicking it on to shine on the non-existent path ahead. The first 200 yards were easy, fairly flat and light in terms of trees. It wasn’t until he hit the heavier populated trees that he’d have to locate his secret messages for guidance.

Chris continued on, unaware that back at the hangar, a Road Runner had already climbed the steps to his jet and shot Colin in the head, leaving him dead in the cockpit, face down on the control panel. That same soldier had dashed out of the jet and trailed behind Chris, following his every move, recording it on a cell phone to have the route saved for later reference.

He never heard the footsteps far behind him, his own feet crunching in the random patches of snow and echoing in the woods. Chris had no reason to look back once the road was out of sight, a costly mistake as he headed toward the cabin for a false sense of security.

Chapter 17

Martin and his team flew into Winnipeg later that night. Claudia Larsen, the Road Runner who had shot the pilot and followed Chris through the woods, had her eyes on the cabin and confirmed Chris had gone inside. She had to leave the property for a 45-minute round trip into town in order to gain better cell phone reception to place the call to Alina. Claudia tried uploading the video she had recorded of the route to the cabin from the airport, but it failed with each attempt.

Martin promised Claudia some relief, sending another soldier to meet her at precisely six in the morning to relieve her after a late night of standing in the freezing weather. He wanted to take zero risks, and planned to make his move the next night once the sun set. No one on their team had any familiarity with Angle Inlet, and they wanted to conduct some research over the course of the day to get familiar with the layout and any potential issues with carrying out this deadly mission.

The Road Runners had an office in Winnipeg, but no one dared go near it, fearful of revealing their presence to the members and causing a ruckus for the entire continent that was still under an extended blackout authorized by the Council. Alina had kept tabs on her email inbox, only reading messages, refusing to send any responses until the mission was done. After the initial four-hour blackout had passed without receiving word from Martin, the Council extended it another two hours, and repeated so all throughout the evening, and now as the clock approached midnight.

They had arrived in Canada shortly after 9 P.M. and immediately pushed all seats toward the edges of the cabin to allow more space for sleeping bags on the floor. It was crowded, but they had no other options unless they wanted to deal with checking into a hotel at the late hour.

Martin assured them that regardless of what happened, they’d all be back home in twenty-four hours, and he encouraged everyone on the jet to think about where they wanted to go on their mandatory vacation once the mission ended. The discussion lifted the spirits of everyone on the team, chatter running rampant about dream trips to Europe, the Caribbean, and Hawaii.

Martin didn’t expect anyone on the jet to work throughout the night, but nearly everyone did, opening their laptops and searching the maps of Angle Inlet provided on the internet. He did the same, sipping a rum and Coke as he fought off the idea of what he’d be doing tomorrow night.

After having a feel for the many trees in the forest of Angle Inlet, Martin opened his email inbox to find over 700 unread messages, a number that was sure to exceed four digits by the time he returned to Denver and could sit behind his desk to sift through them all. Mission briefs, budget requests, and dozens of interview invitations from the media filled the top of his inbox, but one message stood out with its subject written in capital letters: RESPOND IMMEDIATELY.

His eyes followed the line to see the sender as Chief Councilman Uribe, and he clicked on it to expand the full email:

Commander Briar,

I must inquire why you and your team have cut off communication from the entire organization. I have to believe this is the work of your Lieutenant Commander, as I have already reached out to those who knew her best in Central America. They told me it was common for her to go completely off the grid while on important missions. And while I can appreciate that from a high-ranking soldier, you both need to understand that you are in leadership positions now. Our members are very much aware that you have both vanished without a word. We’re starting to receive messages demanding answers, and as you may have seen, people are taking to the streets. I feel this is your fault: perhaps if our members had seen their leader, they