The Directive: A Novel by Matthew Quirk

Author:Matthew Quirk
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Crime, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, United States, Thrillers & Suspense, Spies & Politics, Conspiracies, Political, Suspense, Thrillers, Thriller
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2014-05-27T05:00:00+00:00

I woke from a night of fitful sleep around six a.m. Annie was still in bed. I left my office and went to the bathroom. Then I heard a bang from downstairs. I waited, listening, then heard it again. As I came down the stairs, I saw that the front door was open. I was certain that I had locked and bolted every door and window in the house. I’d been particularly good about security recently.

I went to my office and pulled my pistol from the lockbox. I locked the door behind me and headed downstairs. The front and back doors were wide open, swaying with the cold spring gusts and slamming into their frames. I worked the house room to room, following the gun to see if anyone was still inside.

It was clear.

I walked outside. Maybe the neighbors had a problem with a guy in boxers and a robe circling his property with a drawn pistol. Right now I didn’t care.

Whoever had broken into the house was gone. I went back in.

“Annie?” I said as I took a second look around the first floor.

No reply. The kitchen was empty. So was the bedroom, the sheets shoved aside where she had slept.

“Hon?” I said, louder now.

No answer.

I stepped back into the hallway. My office door was now unlocked and open.

“Annie?” I said.

Still nothing. I could feel the blood rise in me. Everything seemed brighter, clearer, with the adrenaline. I sidestepped toward the door, pistol at my side, then stepped into the office.

Annie was standing over my desk, holding a lock pick and tension wrench in her hand as she looked over everything I had assembled for the Fed job: schematics of the ninth and tenth floors, office directories, mock-ups of fake ID badges, wallets with credentials bearing my face and other men’s names, an open box of ammunition, dozens of locks and break-in tools, and a particularly nasty-looking knife.

She turned and faced me. “What is all this, Mike?”

I hid the gun by my side, stepped over, and slid it deep onto a shelf, out of her sight.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked.

“Trying to figure out what the hell is going on with you.”

“Did you open the downstairs doors?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She put the pick and wrench down. Then she reached for the knife, flipped the blade out, and twisted it under the light.

“This isn’t about cold feet at all, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” I said.

I looked more closely at the pick Annie had been carrying. It was the one I’d tossed when the cop had followed me to the house.

“It’s really not too hard,” she said, looking back at my office door. “Just scrape it back and forth in there, huh?”

“With the rake pick, sure.”

“You have a right to your own space, but I had to know. You never locked doors before. After everything last night, I woke up this morning and you were gone.”

“What did you expect to find?” I asked. Everything between us seemed calmer now.

“I don’t know.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.