Chapter 9
“What do you think?” Kip asked as he and John walked through a small building on the south side of a city more than fifteen hundred miles east of Denver.
“I like it. It’ll take some work on the ground floor, but with the upstairs already set up as a living space it’ll be worth it. The location is great and the price is right.”
“Then let’s let the realtor know we want it.”
At that point it had been three weeks since Kip and John had received their pre-admission briefing by their Marshals Service contact. Detective Ingles, and Kip’s ‘friendly Fed’ as he’d put it, had backed his request that John be included in the program. The following day, after spending all night packing what they’d be taking with them—primarily clothes and everything they wanted in the way of supplies from
