His grandfather had sent him to Inverness, Scotland last month to meet the old world partners in the company.A month later, Pete wished for a few balm... December mornings in New Hampshire. The rain! It rained heavily in the winter. The sky stayed gray. Boston was colder, but it was dryer. He understood why the old folks would complain about their bones hurting.Braving the cold, Pete walked down Eastgate toward the alleyway, Hamilton Street. He needed to finish his holiday shopping. Cutting down. It was a fucking trap. The whole house was rigged to explode and the voices came from fucking baby monitors linked to ones in the underground shelter where the children actually were. The barn where the dependents were sheltering was a fucking fortress, the stall where the door to their shelter was guarded by a God-damned warhorse, and the actual door was so thick it would have taken explosives to get through it."The damn sponsors had equipped and trained their concubines to fight a war! The. More

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