Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) by Anthony Strong (ebooks that read to you .TXT) 📕

thousand eight hundred miles away across the other side of the country, John Decker stood on a wide balcony at CUSP’s facility on a rocky island off the coast of Maine, his coat pulled tight against the November chill. Behind him, the main building rose three floors. Below him, dropping away from the railing that Decker now leaned on, was a rocky cliff that ended eighty feet below in a horseshoe-shaped pebble beach upon which angry waves now crashed.

It was a remote spot, far from civilization. The only close habitation was a small town on the neighboring island, accessible only at low tide by a narrow causeway. It was this remoteness, no doubt, that had inspired CUSP to build here, adding on to a nineteenth-century mansion constructed on the island by an eccentric railroad magnet. It was the mansion’s original owner that built the causeway, intending to run a rail line directly from a small train station a mile from the house, all the way across to the mainland. The idea was to use the specks of land in between in much the same way that Henry Flagler’s Overseas Railroad linked Key West to the Florida mainland with bridges running between the intermediate islands.

The railroad magnate abandoned the project when he determined that the frequent inclement weather off the Maine coast posed too much of a challenge. A prescient decision, given that a hurricane destroyed Henry Flagler’s railroad in a location far less prone to severe weather, less than twenty-five years after he built it.

The only part of the Maine railroad ever constructed was the causeway, originally intended as a platform upon which to run the rail bridge. Now it served as a road allowing CUSP personnel to escape the facility for a few hours.

“Decker, you made it.” Adam Hunt strode out onto the balcony. Walking next to him was a familiar figure.

“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes,” said Colum O’Shea, a broad smile upon his face. “I haven’t seen you since London.”

“That feels like a long time ago.” After he and Colum faced a resurrected Jack the Ripper in London, they had sent Decker south to French Guiana, where he barely escaped with his life during a harrowing mission on the ocean floor. That assignment had ended with a roller coaster ride up from the seabed in a preserved German U-boat. A submarine that was now moored out of sight in a sheltered inlet on the north side of the island. After that had come a well-deserved break, spending six weeks with Nancy at their rented house on the Gulf Coast. “What are you doing in these parts?”

“Same thing as you. Checking in with the boss and getting up to speed with the latest intelligence. I won’t be around long though. Flying back out first thing in the morning.”

“That’s a shame. It would be nice to catch up,” Decker said.

“There’s always tonight.” Colum looked at his watch. “But right now, I have to be at a briefing on the third floor. I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Hunt said. He watched Colum depart, then joined Decker at the railing. “What do you think of our little island fortress?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been here, you know,” Decker replied.

“The last visit was so brief,” Hunt said. “You barely had time to see anything other than the U-boat.”

“Speaking of which, how are the surviving crew getting along?”

“You know I can’t answer that.” Hunt stared out over the ocean.

“You don’t need to give me specifics, but I would like to know how they’re holding up. It must be quite a shock to set sail in the Second World War and not step back on dry land until almost three quarters of a century later.”

“They’re acclimatizing, slowly. I can tell you that much,” Hunt said. “It’s our hope that we can eventually provide them with new identities and set them up with a quiet life somewhere.”

“Under your constant supervision, of course.”

“That goes without saying. Our observation will be unobtrusive, naturally.”

“So, they’ll never be completely free.”

“Is anyone?” Hunt glanced sideways toward Decker and raised an eyebrow. “Freedom is a shared delusion made possible by a collective unspoken agreement not to scratch too far below the surface.”

“That’s dark.”

“It’s the truth.” Hunt’s gaze drifted back out over the water. “Have you finished your assignments for the day?”

“Yup. I’ve been up since six. Spent two hours at the range playing with all sorts of lethal toys, then they gave me a physical which was completely unnecessary.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve had more than your share of scrapes recently. Abraham Turner sliced up your shoulder pretty good in London. On your last mission, you were attacked, shot at, and hit over the head.”

Decker shrugged. “Goes with the territory.”

“Does Nancy share that sentiment?”

Decker remained silent.

“I thought so.” Hunt slapped Decker on the back, then turned and made his way toward the building. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” Decker followed behind.

“I think it’s time you got the full tour.” Hunt stepped inside and held the door open for Decker. “Now that your probationary period is over.”

“My probation is over?” Decker furrowed his brow. “That was quick.”

“You think so?” Hunt replied as he led Decker through a central atrium filled with light thanks to a glass ceiling three floors above them. To their left rose the walls of the original mansion, the once exterior stone old and weathered. This was the accommodation block and more resembled a luxury hotel than staff quarters. There was even a hotel style lobby which housed a bar and buffet restaurant that served as the facility’s canteen. “You’ve completed three missions now, the last of which you handled solo.”

“That surprised me,” Decker said. “I was expecting you to send a more senior agent along with me.”

“You handled yourself fine.” Hunt led Decker toward a set of elevators near the atrium’s far wall.

“I almost got everyone killed. I should have recognized Thomas Barringer for what he was much earlier.”

“Don’t be