The morning of the tenth day was crisp, the kind of clear blue sky that felt like a mockery of the storm brewing in their calendars. Briar stood in the center of the living room of the house on the hill, watching a massive, unmarked delivery truck navigate the winding gravel driveway.
This wasn't just a delivery; it was the arrival of the heart of the home.
Victor pulled in five minutes later, his SUV kicking up dust. He was still in his uniform, the sleeves of his OCPs rolled up to his elbows, looking like he’d just come from a high-stakes briefing- which he likely had. He had a four-hour window, a precious sliver of time carved out of a schedule that was currently dictating the movement of thousands of troops.
"It's here," Briar said, gesturing to the massive crates being unloaded
