Part 18: The Northern Boundary
Six months after the western expansion was finalized, the spring thaw had arrived at the Ruta Norte main hub.
The wide-open green spaces were vibrant with new grass, and the courtyard smelled like lavender and piñon smoke in the evenings.
The twins were now a year old, their features radiant with a deep, unyielding sense of peace that no predator could touch.
I stood near the open office window of the park district, reviewing the new commercial contracts for the regional supply lines.
Everything was moving smoothly until a red delivery van pulled up to the baseline structure, its engine idling loudly.
A woman in a traditional service uniform stepped out, holding a large, yellow shipping crate.
She didn't walk toward the main office.
She walked straight toward Daniel, who was sitting on a stone bench near the safety fence.
My heart skipped a beat, the old military discipline kicking in before my mind could fully process the danger.
"Marcus!" I shouted into my radio. "Secure the baseline structure. Now."
I ran down the concrete path, my boots pounding against the ground as the woman reached into the crate and pulled out a heavy, black leather folder.
She wasn't a delivery driver.
She was Clara, the former maid who had worked for the Mendoza family before their corporate execution.
May you like
She looked up as I approached, her face pale, her eyes filled with a quiet, desperate fear.
"Maya," she whispered, holding the folder out with both hands. "You need to hide this. Your mother-in-law is out."
