75
Puget Sound, Washington
March 30th 2035
Nick Moore watched the security detail’s lieutenant, Francesca Bourbon, go through his backpack with a practiced eye. She was petite, with blue-black hair pulled back in a bun beneath her black navy watch cap.
“Is everything in order, Lieutenant?”
Bourbon didn’t take her eyes from the pack. “You have a false bottom.”
“Yes I do.”
“Care to explain?” she asked tightly.
“It’s where I carry extra rations and a Glock 17 when I’m in the back country.”
“And today?”
“Press the center of the material. The bottom will spring up. You’ll see it’s almost empty.”
The Lieutenant did as instructed. The false bottom sprung up and she used her baton to lift it carefully to the side. A white slip of paper lay in hidden compartment. It had a single typed se
