Wakes's POV
The safe house in the Adirondacks was everything Senator Morrison had promised, isolation, secure, and full of equipped communications technology that would make the NSA envious.
Thirty-six hours after my extraction from federal custody, I was beginning to appreciate the full scope of my political ally's resources.
"Your wife has disappeared," Morrison announced, entering the cabin's main room with a tablet displaying flight records and surveillance footage. "LaGuardia, yesterday morning. Commercial flight to Denver under her own name."
I studied the grainy security camera image of Aloe walking through the airport terminal. She looked different—determined rather than defeated, purposeful rather than protected.
The woman I'd married would never have traveled alone, would
