Read Online Cloud Dust: RD-1 by Connie Suttle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Connie Suttle
Ads: Link
coffee.
"Fine." Taking my cup with me, I wandered toward the
door leading into my suite. I took my time, too. That's why the chopper blew up
before we left the Mansion, instead of after we were inside it.
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
Burning debris was strewn across the yard and guards were
everywhere, with more on the way. It took a while to determine that the pilot
was involved—he'd taken off running seconds before the chopper exploded.
He sat in an interrogation room inside the Mansion while
another chopper was ordered for us—the President was waiting, although she'd
been briefed. James stood with us as we watched a fire crew put the last of the
fires out—singed and blackened grass littered the lawn in front of us and the unpleasant
scent of burned fuel, rubber and metal hung about the Mansion.
"Colonel?" James said, nodding toward the back entrance,
near the helipad. He wanted to talk.
"Let's go," I said and followed him toward the
Mansion.
"Do you think Corinne," he began before I held up a
hand. He and I both knew—Corinne was never late. She'd dragged her feet today.
"We'll have this conversation later," I said.
"What's the ETA on the second chopper? Do we have an inspection crew
ready?"
"Yes, sir. And we have experts coming to examine the
wreckage."
"Good. I want to be informed if they find anything."
"I'll keep you in the loop. Who would do this?" he
added.
"That's what I want to know."
* * *
"Our first attempt failed. We will try again."
"See that you do," the voice crackled over the
secure line. "This problem must be eliminated."
"Agreed."
* * *
Ilya
This looked familiar—I'd seen others die the same way. Dmitri
could be behind this. How had he found the information? Had someone discussed
me while Dmitri's watchdogs were listening?
It angered me that they'd killed Ambassador Bespalov; he'd
secretly arranged to get me out of prison. I wouldn't reveal that
information—his wife still lived in Novosibirsk. I was likely involved in her
husband's death; I didn't want trouble to visit her, too.
More than anything, I wanted to know what the pilot had to
say, but held back from asking. Dalton stood nearby, watching closely, keys
clicking sharply on his cell phone as he tapped a message. My guess was that
General Cutter would receive the message.
Corinne wasn't far away, so I turned toward her. She was pale,
but not as frightened as one might think. Did she see this coming?
I wouldn't be surprised .
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
After the second chopper was gone over twice and declared free
of explosives, the pilot was searched carefully for weapons. We loaded in four
hours late. I had texts from one of the President's aides, telling me the
meeting scheduled that morning was postponed.
Madam President really wanted Corinne and Rafe there for some
reason. Corinne didn't like flying in a helicopter; that was easy enough to see
when she sat between Rafe and James. Dalton reached over to help buckle her in
when he saw her hands shaking, but she managed to get it fastened on her own.
Rafe helped her adjust the headset so she wouldn't be deafened by the noise.
That's when I learned Rafe had my phone number. She's not
used to this , he texted.
Then she'd better damn well get used to it , I texted
back. Lose my number or I'll get your phone privileges revoked .
They all had special issue phones for this trip, but only for
use within the group. All other numbers were blocked. I thought Corinne was the
only one with my number. Obviously, I was wrong.
Dalton provided your number, at the behest of General
Cutter , came the reply.
Then fuck off, unless it's important , I returned.
You got it .
* * *
Corinne
Rafe and Auggie were having a textual tussle. I wanted to roll
my eyes. I didn't—I was too busy trying to ward off a panic attack. Dr. Shaw
was on one of the first two helicopters and long gone before ours exploded on
the lawn.
I wasn't looking forward to this trip, not least because
"Fine." Taking my cup with me, I wandered toward the
door leading into my suite. I took my time, too. That's why the chopper blew up
before we left the Mansion, instead of after we were inside it.
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
Burning debris was strewn across the yard and guards were
everywhere, with more on the way. It took a while to determine that the pilot
was involved—he'd taken off running seconds before the chopper exploded.
He sat in an interrogation room inside the Mansion while
another chopper was ordered for us—the President was waiting, although she'd
been briefed. James stood with us as we watched a fire crew put the last of the
fires out—singed and blackened grass littered the lawn in front of us and the unpleasant
scent of burned fuel, rubber and metal hung about the Mansion.
"Colonel?" James said, nodding toward the back entrance,
near the helipad. He wanted to talk.
"Let's go," I said and followed him toward the
Mansion.
"Do you think Corinne," he began before I held up a
hand. He and I both knew—Corinne was never late. She'd dragged her feet today.
"We'll have this conversation later," I said.
"What's the ETA on the second chopper? Do we have an inspection crew
ready?"
"Yes, sir. And we have experts coming to examine the
wreckage."
"Good. I want to be informed if they find anything."
"I'll keep you in the loop. Who would do this?" he
added.
"That's what I want to know."
* * *
"Our first attempt failed. We will try again."
"See that you do," the voice crackled over the
secure line. "This problem must be eliminated."
"Agreed."
* * *
Ilya
This looked familiar—I'd seen others die the same way. Dmitri
could be behind this. How had he found the information? Had someone discussed
me while Dmitri's watchdogs were listening?
It angered me that they'd killed Ambassador Bespalov; he'd
secretly arranged to get me out of prison. I wouldn't reveal that
information—his wife still lived in Novosibirsk. I was likely involved in her
husband's death; I didn't want trouble to visit her, too.
More than anything, I wanted to know what the pilot had to
say, but held back from asking. Dalton stood nearby, watching closely, keys
clicking sharply on his cell phone as he tapped a message. My guess was that
General Cutter would receive the message.
Corinne wasn't far away, so I turned toward her. She was pale,
but not as frightened as one might think. Did she see this coming?
I wouldn't be surprised .
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
After the second chopper was gone over twice and declared free
of explosives, the pilot was searched carefully for weapons. We loaded in four
hours late. I had texts from one of the President's aides, telling me the
meeting scheduled that morning was postponed.
Madam President really wanted Corinne and Rafe there for some
reason. Corinne didn't like flying in a helicopter; that was easy enough to see
when she sat between Rafe and James. Dalton reached over to help buckle her in
when he saw her hands shaking, but she managed to get it fastened on her own.
Rafe helped her adjust the headset so she wouldn't be deafened by the noise.
That's when I learned Rafe had my phone number. She's not
used to this , he texted.
Then she'd better damn well get used to it , I texted
back. Lose my number or I'll get your phone privileges revoked .
They all had special issue phones for this trip, but only for
use within the group. All other numbers were blocked. I thought Corinne was the
only one with my number. Obviously, I was wrong.
Dalton provided your number, at the behest of General
Cutter , came the reply.
Then fuck off, unless it's important , I returned.
You got it .
* * *
Corinne
Rafe and Auggie were having a textual tussle. I wanted to roll
my eyes. I didn't—I was too busy trying to ward off a panic attack. Dr. Shaw
was on one of the first two helicopters and long gone before ours exploded on
the lawn.
I wasn't looking forward to this trip, not least because
Similar Books
