Chapter 68: The Red Button
The tactical desk in the subterranean heart of Alderwood Manor remained quiet except for the steady circulation of clean, warm air through the ceiling vents. Rowan Mercer watched the small auxiliary screen where the status indicators of his security detail rested in green rows. Down in the secondary barracks off the armory corridor, Orson Drake sat cleaning the bolt assembly of an assault rifle, completely unaware of the woman freezing on the front apron.
Rowan did not pick up the radio receiver to call Orson. He did not issue an order for his security chief to gather a wool blanket, brew a thermos of bone broth, or cycle the heavy airlocks to escort the shivering woman inside.
To offer shelter now would dismantle the entire foundation of what he had spent the
