Hearths of Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

an early age not to miss the signs that were being gifted. A raven here on the beach was somewhat unusual this far down the East Coast, but she could hardly miss the gravity of his arrival. For many tribes the raven was seen as a trickster because of his ability to shape change; however, holy men of many tribes called upon the raven to clarify their visions. He was a symbol of metamorphosis and change—a great harbinger of transformation. As if knowing he’d done his job, the raven cocked his head toward her and then flew away, signifying it was time for her to find her wings.

Chapter Five
    ‡
    Two months later…
    C atori swung her red BMW Alpine Z8 convertible into a slot of a practically vacant parking lot of a rundown building posing as a garage. The faded and chipped cinder blocks that kept the square construction standing looked like it could be blown down with one small gust of wind. Summer had finally arrived, although a person wouldn’t know it by coming to this place. All the doors were shut along with the two paint-peeling garage doors. It wasn’t the most welcoming sight, but from what she’d seen of Mississippi she wasn’t surprised.
    She’d spent the past eight weeks back home in California, making calls to reestablish old contacts. It wasn’t as hard to do as Catori thought it was going to be and she managed to revive over eighty-percent of her prior operational and logistics connections. The initial weapons she’d spent the last week acquiring had cost a pretty penny. In order to obtain the remaining weapons she would acquire she needed to install an appropriate armory to house them with twenty-four hour monitored security.
    She hadn’t touched the money in Red Starr HRT’s bank accounts, and the fact that she still held a Class 3 Federal Firearms License eased the pain of getting what they needed. She’d contacted the storage unit holding most of the technology equipment she’d packed away and had everything delivered to her new base of operations—a bonded warehouse located on the southwest edge of the Unified Port of San Diego near Chula Vista. It had taken two weeks alone to figure out what needed upgrading and what could be salvaged.
    The new building and grounds provided enough room for their brand new Sikorsky MH-60S Knighthawk, a medium lift helicopter, to have a new landing pad when they didn’t have it aboard the Promised Land .
    The Promised Land was once a one thousand four hundred fifty ton three hundred six foot converted Crosley-Class High Speed Transport, or APD. She was currently moored along the pier outside the new Red Starr HRT facility. Sold for scrap in the mid-seventies, the ship had been used by numerous enterprises until Red had acquired it nearly twelve years ago. Since its return from Red’s last ill-fated mission, Catori had left it setting in dry dock awaiting a refit that Red had taken years to design. The crew had just finished the last minute shakedown cruise and was working on a very long list of red lines.
    Considering the new Knighthawk hadn’t been delivered in time for the shakedown, Catori was certain the red line list would grow. All of Red Starr HRT’s assets were now either being actively moved to the new base in San Diego or being dispositioned. She’d hired an entire team of support personnel, however, she hadn’t technically hired one team member that was required to complete the organization’s primary mission. That was about to change.
    Catori pushed up her sunglasses so they rested on top of her head, taking time to study the layout. John “Trigger” Dixon was third up on her list and was supposedly employed at Mac’s Auto Repair, the dilapidation in front of her. Recalling Trigger’s dossier, she didn’t find that surprising. He liked working with his hands and this would give him the outlet he needed after serving his time in the service. She was working her way backwards on the list and would save her lead operator for last. The first