The Descent by Paul E. Hardisty

Author:Paul E. Hardisty
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orenda Books
Published: 2024-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

September 2027

The heatwave was still going on when the Boss summoned me and some of the team to Wyoming. Bryce came to pick us up in the Gulfstream. As usual, he came back into the cabin after take-off to welcome the passengers. The last time we’d spoken was just after the wife’s warning. I’d called him on his mobile and relayed our conversation. We’d agreed to break it off once and for all, and since then we’d kept to it. That day in the cabin he seemed different, distracted, not his usual engaging, confident pilot self. I tried to catch his eye but he studiously avoided me.

Paolo and I and a couple of the others did lines in the back, and I was glad of the distraction. It was nice to take a flight and actually sit in a chair, rather than spending a big part of it on my knees. By the time we arrived at the ranch – it had its own airstrip – it was night and I was pretty much out of it. Paolo helped me to the limo and they dropped us each at our own private cabin in the woods. I loved these places, had stayed in them before. There were twelve in total, scattered around the ranch, each with its own pool and sauna and huge stone fireplace. They sat empty most of the year. I dumped my bag in the entrance and the butler came and carried it to my room, where the maid would be waiting to put my clothes away and iron whatever needed to be ironed. Then he came back down and fixed me a G&T and took my order for dinner, and I sat on the deck looking out across the dark mountains and let the cool alpine air flow over me. It was times like these that working for the Boss was worth all the hassle, all the worry, all the knowledge.

That night I lay in bed and thought about Bryce, in a cabin just like this one maybe a mile away through the woods. I thought maybe he’d come to me, walk over here, throw a stone at my window and I’d rush down the stairs and out into the cool night air and we’d walk hand in hand down to the lake. But he didn’t come.

The next morning, we were all at the main ranch house for buffet breakfast and an early meeting. I sat next to Paolo, who’d piled his plate with pancakes and bacon and scrambled eggs. I was trying to watch my weight, which had ballooned a bit recently, and sat there staring at a plate that was mostly white porcelain, adorned with a couple of strawberries and a slice of melon. Not fair.

The Boss stood at the head of the table. A man I’d never seen before stood at his side, dressed in a dark suit and tie. ‘This is Murray Nailor. Retired General Nailor, US Army, my new chief of security.

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