Page 74

Bishop Security Jet

R en sat in one of the leather chairs surrounding the conference table in the cabin of the Bishop Security jet. The setting sun shone through the small window, and he slammed down the shade. Ren was doing his best to keep it together, but his fear for Stella’s safety was eating him alive.

Nathan Bishop’s face appeared on the overhead screen.

He was sitting behind his desk at their headquarters.

Twitch was beside Nathan and started talking the moment the call connected.

“The Priest’s comment about the treacherous road may have paid off.

There is an unused mining outlet much further into the wilderness than I had been scanning.

I pinned a building that looks like a pretty big cabin. ”

Ren nodded. “That’s gotta be it.”

Steady was listening over the headset and asked from the cockpit, “Any place to put down a bird nearby?”

Nathan replied, “Affirmative. There’s an airfield about three clicks northeast.”

Ren held up Pluto. “I’ve got the drone ready if we need it.”

Nathan nodded. “There’s something else.”

Ren set the drone on the seat beside him and leaned in. “What?”

“I got a call last night from the Chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. It seems Hyperion’s power grabs have not gone unnoticed. The Chairman heads up a task force investigating Hyperion members, primarily Theo Stritch. Senator Branch doesn’t like what he’s discovered.”

Steady’s voice came over the comm, “Go get ‘em, Mr. Indiana.”

Ren started to ask a follow-up question, then stopped. “Steady, what did you just say?”

“Go get ‘em, Mr. Indiana,” Steady repeated.

“Who’s Mr. Indiana?” Ren demanded.

Nathan answered, “Pete Branch, the senior senator from Indiana and possibly our next president. Probably the most popular moderate on The Hill. His nickname is Mr. Indiana.”

“Mr. Indiana,” Ren muttered. That was the name Stella used when she told him about her biological father.

He slid his laptop over and did an image search.

The screen populated with photos of a handsome, suit-clad man with his wife and three children.

Another photo showed Sergeant Branch in fatigues with his army buddies.

Every picture depicted a hero—a pilot, a union advocate, a disaster relief volunteer, but all Ren saw were Stella’s silver eyes. “Jesus.”

“Ren?” Nathan pulled his attention back to the call.

“Can you get Senator Branch on the phone? I’d like to speak with him.”

On the screen, Twitch ran her hand down her long, red braid. “What about?”

“His daughter.”