Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) Nathan Hystad (the reading list book .txt) 📖

Snow melted on the warm hood as it fell, and I glanced around the street, finding it quiet in the early morning. Everything was covered in a fresh layer of flakes, and the streetlights were on despite the hour. The thick clouds were low, making the day darker than usual.

I entered the vehicle and shuffled in beside Marcus. Once the door closed, we started to drive, marking the official start of our adventure.

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The helicopter landed at Hunter Madison’s East Hampton mansion, and the pilot confirmed we could disembark. Francois arrived, his slicked hair unaffected by the gust the rotor sent across the yard.

“This way, sirs,” he said, and grabbed our two heaviest bags without issue. Marcus just shrugged, taking his carry-on, and the helicopter lifted, the noise finally growing quieter by the time we’d crossed the grounds to the house’s rear patio.

Hunter stood inside, eyeing the sky as if he anticipated a tornado to appear. His expression was cautious, even fearful.

I followed after Francois, passing over the extremely detailed cobblestone courtyard. The entire area was strung with Christmas lights, surprising me. “Hunter, I expected more of an Ebenezer vibe from you,” I told him, and the billionaire’s gaze lowered, as if he’d only then realized we’d entered his home.

He looked older, his cheeks a little sallower, his hair whiter, if that was possible. “Welcome back, Rex. Hello, Marcus.” He held out his hand, and we took turns shaking it.

I reached for my bag and pulled out my laptop. “I have some ideas on the team.”

“Straight to business?” Hunter asked. “Marcus, tell me, is he always this anxious to work?”

“Sure is. The guy’s wound tighter than a…”

I lifted a finger. “If you want to wait until after the holidays, we can reschedule everything.” The anger in Hunter’s eyes at the mention of delay told me he was even more ready than I was to begin our endeavor.

“There is something I’d like to speak with you two about. Care to join me in the study?” Hunter started away, and I removed my wet shoes. It was damp outside, rain spitting on and off, but no snow yet: a common East Coast December day.

We walked through the mansion, and I slowed to check what the wonderful smell was in the kitchen. A man stood near the island, chatting with the chef.

“Any chance I can have a snack?” My stomach growled at the scent of his cooking. I’d been too worked up earlier, too worried about this mission to eat this morning, but being at Hunter’s relaxed my anxious nerves.

“Sure thing, Mr. Walker.” The chef was a formidable man with a white apron and a friendly smile. “We have tomato bisque and a scattering of hors d’oeuvres. Help yourself. Mr. Madison requested lunch in a half hour.”

“Excuse me,” I said, striding past the man who stood between me and the cooling food. He hesitantly shifted on his feet and stepped aside.

“Mr. Walker, is it?” The man had a tough visage and was out of place among the opulence of Hunter’s home.

“That’s what it says on my driver’s licence. How about yours?”

“Tripp. Tripp Davis.” He didn’t offer his hand, and neither did I. I knew who he was, although we’d never formally been introduced. It was difficult to do so when you were being hijacked in the middle of the jungle.

“No way.” I left the finger foods behind, stalking for Hunter’s study with expedience. “Hunter, this wasn’t part of the deal!”

Hunter was seated, talking with Marcus when I barged in, and he lifted his hands defensively. “I see you’ve met Tripp. Calm yourself, Rex. We can discuss this like adults, can we not?”

“Wait, the Tripp? That jerk that took your loot and left you high and dry in the rain forest?” Marcus rose, coming to join me in my posturing.

“I’ll have you know that what we did was within our rights according to local…” The man was behind me, and I clenched my jaw, using all my reserved strength to stop myself from decking him.

“You screwed me over and took the prizes I’d committed months of research and weeks of scouring to locate.” I pictured the carved figure, with red jewels embedded as eyes in the black onyx statue. “Not to mention the investment I failed to return to the museum funding my expedition.”

“Tripp always gets the job done, Rex. That’s why I’m insisting he join the crew.” Hunter stayed seated, and Tripp gave me a satisfied smirk as he watched me, arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s off. I won’t work with this man,” I said, and started for the exit. Francois arrived, and he blocked the doorway. I could feel the tension rise in the study, and I glanced at Marcus. He moved closer to me. This was a real make-or-break moment. A man like Hunter, who claimed to have been part of an alien cult at some point, hadn’t gotten this rich and stayed wealthy by being a nice person. I had no doubt he’d done many unscrupulous things.

Everything inside the study looked the same, but it was the opposite of the inviting space it had been the first time we’d visited. It was hostile. Angry. Hunter Madison finally stood, his hands clutching his chair arm to assist the motion.

“I’m dying, Rex. I’ve spent far too long on this to give up or lose it now. Tripp is devious, yes, but he’s working for me. You’re in charge of this expedition, so by every account, he answers to you. Is that understood, Tripp?” Hunter asked.

The man picked at his nails, avoiding eye contact with me as I stared daggers at him. “Fine by me.” He smiled. “As long as I get paid, we’re aces.”

Francois stepped aside and disappeared into the corridor. I had to keep an eye on that one. He was dangerous despite his stuffiness and reluctance to be seen.

I stood my ground, the adrenaline in my body giving me a boost of energy. “I’m