It should have been a simple drive, from Malaga Cove in LA , to Weston, outside Boston.
But it didn’t work out that way.
Maybe it was because Lacklan had his mind on the plans he’d been discussing with Jim Redbeard in Los Angeles, plans to assassinate high ranking Russian and Chinese officials - the last remaining members of the Omega cabal; or maybe it was because he was thinking about Marni, shot in the stomach in Oxford as they were planning to make their life together. Or maybe it was just the deep, dark Wyoming night, but whatever it was, something made Lacklan turn left, when he should have turned right.
And left took him high into the hills, among the deep pine forests, to the town of Freedom. Freedom, where every house had a white picket fence. Freedom, where the streets were clean and everybody smiled. Freedom, where they’d had the same mayor and the same town council for almost fifty years. Freedom, where there was zero crime…
He planned to stay the night at Missy’s hotel, while the local garage charged up his car. He was, after all, on the clock, with an important appointment to keep. But when he witnessed the local school teacher being arrested and beaten for teaching that the world was round, everything changed.
Lacklan decided to stay…
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