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Menominee, Wisconsin
October 23rd 2032
“Is that your place?” the helicopter pilot asked as he swung the craft into a sweeping circle above the rustic cabin, on a small lake below.
Redhawk leaned into the turn. The man’s voice was clear and soft in the headphones. “Yes,” he answered. “There’s a clearing just to the north where another cabin once stood. You can set down there.”
“Roger that.” The pilot banked a second time, heading toward the area Redhawk pointed out.
The helicopter flew over a dense copse of woods near the entrance road. Redhawk looked down and started in surprise. The image was fleeting but he knew it instinctively from his military days flying Blackhawk missions in Afghanistan.
“Pull up,” he ordered the pilot. The man looked at him in surprise. Redhawk did not he
