Ghost Warrior III : Sins of the Father
Chapter 1 January 2009 The wind had a knife’s edge that morning, cutting through the bare trees and driving grit across the cracked parking lot of the Choctaw Nation substation. A dull, pewter light hung over Atoka, flattening everything under the weight of January. Inside, Lieutenant Ray Walker stood at the front window, a old worn mug of coffee cooling in his hand. He wasn’t drinking it anymore—just holding it, watching steam curl and vanish in the stale fluorescent light. Behind him, two night-shift officers were finishing reports, the clatter of keyboards echoing through the cinderblock quiet. A quiet night, just a few traffic citations and a single DUI. One drunk sleeping if off in the lone cell in back. Walker’s eyes drifted to the lot, where the early morning mist blurred the outlines of patrol units and the flagpole. The air smelled of cold metal and dust. 5:47 a.m. by the wall clock. He’d been at this too long to believe in quiet mornings—they usually meant something was windi...