Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) by Nathan Hystad (ereader iphone .TXT) 📕

we were allowed to return to the airport for a quick hop back to Sydney in Hunter’s hired bush plane. By the time we arrived at the hotel, Marcus and I were exhausted, ready to call it a night.

“Where’s Castro?” Tripp asked as I stepped toward the elevator.

“How long were you waiting there?” Marcus demanded after jumping in shock.

“Long enough.” Tripp wore beige cargo pants and a short-sleeved white top, mostly unbuttoned. I noticed both arms were covered in tattoo sleeves.

“Castro won’t be joining us,” I advised him. By the time we’d returned to the airport, both of our phones were out of juice, and I hadn’t wanted to give Hunter the heads-up anyway. He would have just gone ahead and hired someone else without my input.

“Why’s that?” Tripp asked.

“He’s dead.”

This elicited the reaction I wanted. “Dead? Are you sure?”

“I saw him after his house fire finally burned out. I’m certain he’s gone,” I told him as I walked on and pressed the elevator button. Hunter had set us up in a nice hotel near the Opera House, and all I wanted to do was hit the shower and get a nap in before we figured out what came next.

“He’s going to want to talk to you,” Tripp said.

“Are you his personal secretary?” I asked, and the man only grunted.

“I’ll let him know you’ll join us in the bar for dinner in two hours,” Tripp said.

“Fine. But can you do me a favor?”

“That depends.” The elevator dinged and opened. Marcus stepped aside to let a young couple by. “Just don’t tell Hunter about the… incident.”

“A man’s dead and you call it an incident? You’re harder than I’d expected.” Tripp said it like this was a good thing in his books.

“Can you do that?” I asked again.

“You have two hours.”

I gave Tripp a nod, and he locked gazes with me. He had the look of a military man or a lifelong police officer. He’d seen too much during his tenure with the SEALs and carried it with him everywhere he went. It was in his posture, his tone, and his gait as he walked.

“See you then.”

The doors closed with Marcus and me inside, and my friend exhaled. “Rex, we haven’t even started yet and we’re already behind.”

Castro was dead, and it might have been my fault. The guy always had a problem with gambling, and I’d guessed that was part of the reason he’d ended up isolating himself in the middle of the outback. The fact that someone had burned down his business might have had no connection with the search for the Bridge.

I clung to that hope as we entered our floor. Marcus stopped at his room, beside mine.

“Two hours?” he asked.

“I guess so.”

“I’ll come get you.” With that, my sidekick was gone. For someone who hadn’t grown up in the field, he had sure taken well to the difficult adventure. I was proud of him.

I went into my suite, shaking my head at the lavish surroundings. This was my first time being catered to in my life. I’d had expense accounts allocated for artifact hunts before, but they were always limited, and usually just kept me from the worst hotels—definitely not in the top resorts.

Hunter had had an air of excitement surrounding him the last couple days, and he was going to be disconsolate that my choice for a pilot was no longer available. Any delays would really set back our timeline. I sat on the bed and plugged my phone in. The red light flashed on the top right corner, and I headed into the bathroom.

The water did its best to wash the sweat, smoke, and dirt from my skin, but the image of Castro’s burned corpse on a gurney didn’t rinse off quite so easily. I stayed under the scalding heat for some time, and when I emerged from the shower ten minutes later, the entire room was fogged up.

My phone held a few messages.

Jessica – Rex. Was hoping we could get together again. Maybe Sunday?

I’d deceived her at dinner about not leaving town. I scrolled to the next one.

Richard – You have to stop avoiding me. Please, I have some information you might find useful. Call me.

I stared at the screen, wondering why he always felt the need to be so cryptic. Why couldn’t he just come out and say it? It was his way of trying to ensure I’d contact him, but it wasn’t going to work this time.

With nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist, I lay on the bed, my eyes closing as my head hit the pillow. I needed to source another pilot. Someone I trusted. Someone on my team, so I wasn’t overpowered in every decision by Hunter and Tripp.

There was only one person left in my mind. I sent a message to her, knowing she might not want to hear from me, since I hadn’t called her back after our fling in Germany. I sat still, waiting for a response, and saw three dots appear. They flashed for what felt like five minutes, and vanished. When she did reply, the message was short and to the point.

Elise – Nope

I ran my hands through my wet hair and rolled onto my side. There had to be someone else. All I needed to do was think. What was the name of the guy who’d airlifted us out of Nepal that one time? He was willing to go the extra mile, but I thought he might have had a drug problem.

I set the phone down and closed my eyes as I considered my options.

A hurried knock woke me some time later, and I checked my phone, seeing no more messages from Elise. That was a burned bridge.

More knocks. “I’m coming!” I called. My mind was blurry, but even a short nap was better than nothing. I did feel slightly more focused as I strode across the suite, finding Marcus the culprit.

“Rex, better get dressed.”

He looked at my towel, and I secured it.