Draven.
The study was dimly lit, with only the golden light of the desk lamp casting shadows across the deep mahogany furniture.
I leaned back in my chair, one leg folded across the other, my fingers steepled under my chin as Dennis and Jeffery gave their reports.
Jeffery went first.
"The meeting was a joke," he said, his voice tight with barely veiled contempt. "Brackham and his allies…"
I nodded once. I hadn't expected anything more. "They are still trying to buy more time."
Then Dennis spoke, his tone more subdued. "We stopped for lunch at one of the local places. While eating, we overheard a woman talking to her friend — it sounded like she was the same woman you told us about. The one who was taken."
My attention sharpened.
"She said she was sedated and locked in a cell for a little over two weeks. Heard voices talking about 'termination,' 'phase three,' and 'specimens.' Then she woke up dumped on the streets… with her baby gone."
