Cross Shadow by Andrew Huff

Author:Andrew Huff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kregel Publications
Published: 2020-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SCOTT REARDON STARED at the black bar pulsating against the stark white background of the word processing software filling his computer monitor. No words came to his mind, only the image of Ares firing the M27 in his general direction repeating over and over again, like a visual record stuck on a loop.

He was supposed to be writing a proposal with solutions to the known issues with the embedded control systems of Ares. A proposal expected by the end of the day. Not enough time to properly evaluate the problem plaguing his development team, but when did Anthony Hale ever give his team enough time to achieve any of their goals?

Reardon took a deep breath and averted his eyes from the screen long enough to pull the half-chewed pen from between his teeth and throw it into a pile of circuit boards. He needed to clear his mind, so he stood and stretched until he heard his joints crack, then buzzed out of the suite of cubicles and stepped into the open walkway.

A few security personnel roamed the fourth floor, and while he offered quick polite waves when they were close, he mostly kept his eyes on the ground and his hands in his pockets. Though the floor was vacant of Hale Industries employees, it didn’t mean the offices were empty. These days, everyone chose a low profile.

Reardon bypassed the escalators and headed for the central structure suspended over the driveway below, the space known as the Archway. He raised his gaze as he entered and caught sight of the object of his desire.

The middle of the Archway was open to the three floors above. A large upside-down arch descended from the ceiling on one end and bisected rows of columns as it swooped along the edge of each floor and finally connected at the opposite end of the structure.

The two halves were mirrored in design, with a large open area of seating scattered on the bottom floor. There, in the middle of the brown carpet, sat the beautifully composed sculpture of a compass the size of a subcompact car.

The rose of the compass was engraved in glass in the middle of a large circular frame. Two bands wrapped around it in opposite angles, and the entire sculpture was suspended oblique to the floor by an ornate column on one side and a support post on the other. The entire piece occupied the center of a wide pedestal of bronze, with the compass situated above a circular pane of glass in the middle of the floor, which looked down into the exterior driveway below.

Reardon stopped in front of the compass and put his hands on his face. He pressed his fingers into his forehead, then his palms, and finally slid both hands up and through his tousled black hair. He didn’t need a mirror to know that the bags under his eyes were darker than usual.

He dropped his arms and dug his closed fists into his jean pockets. Relaxing

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