Free Dragonflies: Shadow of Drones by Andy Straka Page A

own apartment to go to bed before calling Lance Murnell at the number he’d given her.
    “I thought you were going to leave me at the altar,” the scientist joked.
    “Is it too late to start on some training?”
    “Not at all. We’re open twenty-four/seven over here.”
    Wherever “here” was. Raina had decided she owed it to herself, not to mention Tye and Williamson, to find out as much as she could about what Murnell and DHS were up to with their own MAVs. Murnell obviously knew about Williamson and the drones she’d been flying. For all she knew, maybe DHS was aware, if not intimately familiar, with their overall mission, although she doubted the department would ever officially be in favor of, let alone somehow involved, with what she and Tye were doing. Worse case scenario, she and Tye might even be on the wrong side of some sort of internal civil war. Either way, covering up a rape could never be justified–in anybody’s book.
    Twenty minutes later, she sat in the darkened back of a government sedan with a hood pulled over her head again, hearing the sounds and feeling the vibrations of the car moving along a major highway, then smaller roads with turns, a few potholes, crossing what even seemed like several sets of railroad tracks.
    She wasn’t fond of the hood, but her hands were free and at least she could breathe.
    She felt little fatigue. She’d eaten dinner after Tye left, and was still raring to get some work done learning more about the technology Murnell had shown her that morning. But a part of her couldn’t help but feel like she was sneaking out on Tye after their confrontation earlier about her initial mysterious disappearance. She’d sensed a tension between them all afternoon that hadn’t been part of their relationship before. Was it because of her own doubts or because of his toward her? She wasn’t sure, but she owed to herself to at least follow things through with Murnell, to find what he and Homeland were offering. As exciting and attractive as it was working with Tye and Major Williamson, she still felt like she was out on a limb with the things they were doing. Exploring what Homeland had to offer couldn’t hurt, and maybe she wouldn’t have to choose one way or another. She could help Tye and Williamson complete the mission and maybe move on to something even bigger.
    They paused for a moment and it sounded like they were passing through some kind of checkpoint, and then it seemed like they’d entered some kind of garage, the sound of their tires echoing off pavement and concrete. The car rolled to a stop and one of her escorts shut down the engine and climbed out while the other opened the back door for her and gave her a hand to help her stand.
    The hood was removed. She blinked in reaction to the bright light and saw that she was back in the same indoor parking area from which they’d transported her, after hooding her, from the facility earlier in the day.
    “Welcome back, Ms. Sanchez. You made the right decision.”
    She looked up to Murnell, looking as handsome as ever, this time dressed more like the casual scientist in blue jeans and a sweater, approaching her from the landing above while her two guards a pair of men dressed casually undercover in blue jeans and jackets–melted into the background and disappeared through a side entrance.
    She hadn’t really thought through, until now, how skillfully and effectively Murnell had baited the trap, whetting her appetite to work with all of his gee-whiz techno-toys. But seeing the facility and him in person all over again put her on her guard. She wondered if, in addition to whatever technical work he was doing for Homeland, he’d had psychological operations training. He certainly had a knack for timing and for doling out the selective information.
    “I’m ready to get to work.” She told him the truth.
    “Good. So glad to hear it. Can we get you anything to eat or drink before we start rolling?”
    “Nope. I’m