Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
If they wanted to save the cub, they had to infiltrate the house. The best-case scenario had them sneaking in, finding the cub, and getting out. Undetected. The worst ended with all of them dead. From Denver, Woodward’s flight to Austin would take roughly two hours, plus the drive to his mansion, because the tiny airport in Canyon Lake shut down at night. That would buy them another hour. Their chances were exponentially better with Woodward absent.
He made a decision. Really, it wasn’t even a choice.
Diana turned to him, her face blank. Her tone was flat and clipped, the formality almost painful.
“Prime Montgomery, House Harrison thanks you for your assistance in this matter. You have more than honored the obligations of our agreement. I wish you success in your future endeavors. Should you ever need our assistance, House Harrison will stand by you.”
He would have laughed, but she would have taken it badly. “Are you firing me?”
“Yes.”
He waited.
She held out for another three seconds, but his silence broke her. “Woodward stole Kitty. I have evidence and the legal basis for a feud petition, but it will take too long. He will kill her tonight.”
It was eerie how her thought patterns ran so parallel to his own.
“I’m going into that compound,” she said. “You cannot come with me. If you do, your House and your firm will be implicated. We must part ways here.”
“You need me,” he said.
“I have seen his toys. They are nearly indestructible.” The desperation in her voice cut at him. “I have to do this, but I probably won’t survive it. I want you to live, Augustine. It’s important to me.”
He wanted to linger on that and figure out exactly what she meant, but now wasn’t the right moment.
“You asked for my help. I will see it through.”
“Your House…”
“My House isn’t here, but I am. In my professional opinion, we have two choices: rescue or revenge. I prefer the rescue. We started this together, we will end this together.”
“Augustine…”
He offered her a smile. “Let me make a quick call, and we’ll be on our way.”
The sky was a dusty purple, and the lake below stole its color, the water a dark mirror cradled by the rocky hills. The craggy crests and jagged, boulder-strewn cliffs looked nearly prehistoric. The only signs of civilization were an occasional outline of a roof and electric lights in the distance that left glowing trails on the water. And the pale monstrosity of a house sitting atop a neighboring hill.
Augustine peered through the scope of a sniper rifle. Canyon Lake was man-made and federally owned, managed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. The government had designated parts of the shoreline for public use. As luck would have it, one of these scenic overlooks gave them the perfect view of the Woodward estate. It spread slightly below them like an ancient fortress, poised behind an ornamental wall of Austin limestone that was topped with ornate wrought iron. The pure white house, if one could call a building of that size a house, rose three oversized stories up, beautifully illuminated by strategic, tinted lighting discreetly tucked away behind the landscape.
Augustine passed the rifle to Diana. She looked through the scope and frowned.
From the front, the house looked like any other ostentatious Texas mansion: huge lawn, vast stretches of paver-stone patios and walkways, trees vastly older than the buildings. A two-story arched gatehouse flanked by towers lorded over the main driveway.
The rear of the structure was like no other house—a solid block painted white. No doors, no windows. Just a cube of solid walls, three stories high and three hundred and fifty feet wide.
MII’s intelligence on Woodward had been limited; however, they had a basic diagram of the house. Augustine’s father had bought it from the builder for reasons unknown, and it had sat quietly in their internal files until Lina unearthed it and sent it to him.
Once again, his father’s foresight had saved Augustine from the beyond. Eventually, Augustine would have to unpack the unpleasant cocktail of emotions that the realization brought up, but now wasn’t the time.
Their target was to infiltrate the back of the house, that solid reinforced cube, which the builder had termed the Vault. The blueprint Lina had sent put the total square footage at a hundred twenty-two thousand, five hundred feet. It was the size of a Costco warehouse. Not only was the footprint staggering, but the costs of the land and construction had to have been astronomical. Even thirty years ago, when the compound had been built.
The Vault housed Woodward’s laboratory: a warehouse of material storage, the crafting area where Woodward tinkered with his constructs, and, most importantly, a large indoor atrium labeled the “Menagerie,” where he kept his animals.
Woodward collected rare species, specifically predators. The Menagerie served as a private zoo where they were housed until he decided to take them apart in an effort to understand how they worked. He seemed to be blissfully untroubled by the fact that none of the creatures survived the process.