John closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of his brother’s sofa. This last week had gone from bad to worse. The only good thing to come out of everything had been the trip with Bella and Rachel to Emerald Lake.
Grant nudged his feet on his way past. “You can’t fool me. You’re not asleep, you’re avoiding my questions.”
“Which one?” John opened one eye. “And if it’s the one about my non-existent love life, then you’re not going to get any answers.”
Grant grunted. “Fine. Start with the teacher. Does Rachel enjoy working with Bella?”
“Of course she does. What’s not to like?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The gorilla beside me could have some kind of influence on her happiness. I heard you went to Emerald Lake the other day?”
That got John’s attention. “How did you find out?”
“Mrs. Daniels,” Grant said smugly. “I called her to see where you were. She told me you’d taken a helicopter out to the lake. Did you see much apart from snow and ice?”
“Scoff all you like. I wanted to see what the view from the house would be like in winter.”
“You took a helicopter out for that? You’ve got more money than common sense.”
“Probably,” John muttered. “So how’s the world of mountain rescue?”
John’s brother had been a volunteer with the Gallatin County Search and Rescue Team for the last eight years. He’d seen some horrific accidents, but he kept going back, year after year, to help the people who needed it.
Grant left his mug of coffee on the table in front of him. “Avalanche season is well and truly here. We had a fatality on Sunday. A family was out on their snowmobiles and triggered an avalanche. Their teenage son was killed.” He shook his head. “You’d think they’d learn by now. We’ve been issuing warnings all week for where the accident happened. They had all of the safety gear you can buy, but it didn’t help their son.”
“How was the team after you got back?”
“Not great, but they managed to pull two of the family out, so that was something. You changed the subject.”
“Didn’t work for long.”
Grant pointed at the newspaper. “The fighting in the Middle East looks as though it’s getting worse. Another five soldiers were killed in separate suicide bombings last week. Do you think your drone can help?”
John hadn’t told Grant much about the prototype drone that he’d been working on. It was more than commercially sensitive information. If what he’d learned last week was true, it could be deadly.
“It’s got the potential to help. But that’s up to the Department of Defense. They own the technology.” John wished it was that simple. It could have been, but people with more money than he’d ever see had been spinning the militia wheels in Europe.
“Are you sure everything’s okay? You’ve been looking more stressed than usual over the last few weeks.” Grant looked closely at him. “You can’t tell me, can you?”
John nodded. “I wish I could, but it would put you in danger and that’s not going to happen.”
“What have you gotten yourself into?”
“More than I thought.”
“You could always go to dad’s hideout. He might have been extreme, but he was prepared.”
John and Grant had the same mom, but different fathers. Grant’s dad had been a survivalist. He’d created a world within a world, preparing for the worst that could hit mankind. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been post-apocalyptic America that had killed him. It had been a car accident fifty miles southwest of Chinook.
A year after he’d died, Grant’s mom had met and married John’s dad, a rancher from Bozeman. John had arrived a year later and he’d never thought of Grant as anything other than his brother.
John closed his eyes and tried to sort through the words he wanted to say. “I don’t need to use the hideout. Not yet.”
“You’ll tell me if it gets worse?”
John nodded. “I’ll tell you as much as I can.”
Grant looked at him over the rim of his mug. “Just so you know, the place was restocked with fresh water and food last month.”
“You don’t believe in conspiracy theories or end of the world predictions.”
Grant smiled. “I guess I’m more like my dad than I think I am. I like to be prepared, and his bunker makes more sense than most things in life.”
The bunker Grant was referring to wasn’t your standard subterranean hole in the ground. It was an elaborate network of rooms that were linked together in Hill County, Montana.
Grant scowled at John. “Is the money you’ve made worth what you’ve been through?”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“Sure it is.”
John’s life hadn’t been simple for the last six years. He’d pushed himself hard and told himself it was because he wanted to provide a good home for Bella. But it went deeper than that, far deeper than anyone knew. Making money was his way of proving that he was more than the grieving single parent that had returned from the Middle East.
He was an ex-Navy SEAL. He’d be damned if he’d let anyone threatened his family.
“You’re not thinking of doing anything stupid, are you?”
He glanced at his brother. “You know me, cautious to the core.”
“Yeah, right. You’re the least cautious person I know. If you get into trouble, head to dad’s bunker.”
John’s cell phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the caller display. “I’ve got to take this.” He pushed a button and held the phone to his ear. “What is it, Tanner?”
“I had a call from Simon. The New Orleans contract is in trouble.”
“I’m on my way.”
Grant didn’t bother asking what had happened. He handed John his jacket and pulled him into a hug. “Don’t do anything stupid. You’ve got a daughter and a brother who love you.”
“I’ll never forget.” He opened the front door and walked down the icy porch steps.
Something beyond the normal issues his company dealt with was going on, and he knew who was behind it.