Present Danger: Book 3 of the Storm's Fury Series: (An Epic Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller) by Justin Bell & Mike Kraus

Author:Justin Bell & Mike Kraus [Bell, Justin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Muonic Press Inc
Published: 2020-04-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Atlas Orbital Technologies Regional Headquarters

Chicago, Illinois

Selanda Lopez’s ex-husband had always accused her of being at her office more often than she was at home, and that was never truer than it was right then. In fact, after the disaster of her prototype Atlas-One orbital craft, her office had essentially become her home.

She’d spent more hours than she cared to admit over the last several days standing in the penthouse suite of her personal CEO office, staring out the wide expanse of glass windows, looking out over the smoldering wreckage of the city that had been her home for as long as she could remember. In fact, part of the reason why she’d arranged the Atlas-One fly-by was her deep love of the city, her appreciation for the Chicago Cubs, and a hope to shine a brighter light on the city that was more or less a part of her.

Now, instead of Chicago being illuminated by the press of the orbital fly-by, it was decimated and cast aflame, the entire downtown awash in slate-gray smoke and blackened skies, the only illumination provided by the rippling fingers of flame clawing hungrily from shattered buildings and the skeletons of a once-vibrant skyline.

Her city—her home was now a broken relic of what it once was, the scorched bones of a once-robust and lively city, its body consumed by explosions and the ensuing chaos of martial law and violence. This wasn’t Chicago, not anymore. It was some sort of apocalyptic urban nightmare, reduced to lawlessness and violence in less than two weeks.

In reality, Selanda had the majority of the offices to herself. Atlas Orbital Technologies rented the top six floors of that particular high rise, and she could have easily withdrawn deeper into the building, sheltering herself from what was happening outside. But she didn’t want to. She wanted the constant reminder of what the failings of Atlas-One had wrought on the world, her sentence for being such an advocate for technology that clearly had not been ready for prime time.

Somewhere, deep inside, she didn’t believe that. They’d tested and planned and designed and tested again, then tested again, and there had been nothing to indicate something like the crash might happen. In the days since the disaster, she’d pored over the paper copies of the blueprints dozens of times, looking for any sign of potential mechanical defect, any reason why the spacecraft would have suddenly plunged from the sky.

There was nothing there to indicate it. Obviously without having access to the craft itself for a thorough postmortem there would be no way to discern if a mechanical component had failed in execution that shouldn’t have. But she doubted there was enough of the craft left to determine that one way or the other.

Still, something nagged at her. Something told her that this wasn’t an accident. That this might have been something else—something more sinister. Did she really believe that, or was it just her conscience trying to alleviate her guilt, trying to redeem

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