The Overseer Read Online Free PDF Page B

understand.”
    “The money is tax exempt and going right back into our own community. It looks like we’re hiding and laundering assets.”
    A frown formed on John’s face. “But we aren’t hiding money. The money is all accounted for.”
    “True,” Vince said with a nod. “But the IRS has contacted us and said that they are considering auditing us and that they may freeze our assets while they do so.”
    “But the money is still ours, right?” John asked. “We’ll get it back when they’re done, won’t we?”
    Vince was silent for a moment, rubbing his temples with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. “That could take a very long time, and as long as they’ve frozen our money, it’s as good as gone. We can’t pay the rent for this office, the staff that runs it, or even the active missions you’ve got going.” A choked sigh came from Vince. “We’re as good as bankrupt until they’re done. And if they find anything , we’re looking at fines, penalties, and fees. Combined with the blow to our reputation, we are faced with the very real possibility of actually going bankrupt.”
    John sank back into his seat. He let his gaze wander to the right—toward the window, into the city beyond. His eyes closed, and he heaved a sigh, trying to breathe slowly as his heart weighed down under the news. “How did this happen?”
    Vince waited a moment before speaking. “You didn’t listen to us. We tried to warn you that this was going to happen. We tried; we really did. But you gave orders as Overseer, and we did what you said.”
    The room was silent for a moment more.
    The phone in the middle of the table rang. John waved to someone, and they hit the button, turning on the speakerphone.
    “Mr. Temple?” a receptionist said from the other end of the line.
    “Yes?”
    “There’s a call for you regarding Hannah Rice. They say it’s an emergency.”

Chapter 3
    T HE WORLD WAS a globular white, shifting in focus from thick blobs of impenetrable haze to a thin membrane, veiling a crisscrossing grid beyond.
    A deep sleep, not wanting to let go, wrapped its fingers around her, cradling her in a warm embrace. It was as if she had been pulled beneath the surface of reality, her barely aware consciousness bobbing on the surface like a rubber duck on a storm-tossed ocean—a moment of dizzying lucidity followed by a sudden plunge back into the depths.
    Her world was nothing for a moment—then she bobbed to the surface of reality again, reminded that somewhere in it all she was real.
    It might have been ten minutes or maybe several hours— possibly a day—but the warm cradle of unconsciousness seemed to vomit her from its cozy depths, spitting her—exhausted— onto the shores of waking life.
    Hannah stared at the ceiling, lying on her back—wherever here was.
    The grid of the ceiling came into focus—the metal separators between porous ceiling tiles. An involuntary groan bubbled up from somewhere in her chest. Her eyelids—which felt more like lead than flesh—exerted themselves against their own weight to open, and her body shifted a fraction to the side. The surface beneath her crinkled—the sound of shifting plastic.
    Her eyes, the only part of her that seemed to move without a concentrated effort, listed to the side. There was a window to her left—the sun glowing against the white curtains that were pulled shut. Her eyes continued their journey to the left, and she knew where she was.
    A bag filled with clear fluid hung from a metal rod. An IV, with a twisting tube that hung lazily, moving from the clear liquid to the back of her left hand.
    She was suddenly aware of her body. Not so much her limbs, but the sensations of aching pain that seemed to cleave to her like a glove, giving definition to her physical form in the same way a vacuum-packed bag gives definition to its contents.
    Hannah lay on her back for several more minutes, suddenly feeling very warm.
    Then, just as she had been ejected