Foreboding Skies (The Skybreaker Saga Book 1) by Connor Taylor Page B

people who ran the world. I doubted Jones would get approval for anything. That still left an irrational women who hated me, thought I was a killing machine, and probably thought that I received no protection under the constitution. Hell, most Americans didn’t have protection under the constitution if the government really wanted to take them down.
    “Officers, I don’t mean to interrupt but will you be needing anything else from me. I had a long day at work and I am wiped out.” I really was, but that didn’t mean I got to stop. They both walked back to where I was standing and created an awkward three-way silence.
    Jones looked like she wanted to pick every bone in the human body with me, but Hemingway spoke first, “That will be all Mr. Smith, just don’t leave town for the next couple of days. We may have more questions for you.” Of that there was no doubt. The leaving part would be more difficult, as soon as I put this situation to rest it was time to go. Detroit was getting too hot for my liking.
    I bid the officers farewell and watched them drive off before trudging up the steps to my door. My landlady would have plenty of words about the police, if she could remember me long enough to deliver them. Ms. Franklin was a horrible old bat that neither heaven nor hell wanted, leaving her here to torment us all.

Chapter 6
    My one bedroom efficiency apartment was decorated in the Spartan tradition. Not out of the belief that sparse décor boosted efficiency but out of sheer passivity. I owned a bed, a dresser, a chair, a desk with a decent pc, and a clock adorning the wall. In the kitchen area there was a modest table with three chairs squished against the refrigerator. My only frivolity was a poster of Marlon Brando from the Godfather with the most legendary quote in bold letters across the bottom “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” That quote represented the philosophy that the Community lived by.
    Before I did anything else I needed to call some people. I assumed all of my official lines of communication were compromised. I could imagine the terrible things Jones had recommended be done to me. Such situations are why I always kept a few encrypted burner phones on hand. I like my privacy, and if the government is going to break the law to violate it then I will break the law to protect it. They were pricey, but it was the principle of the matter. That and I was doing lots of other illegal shit and didn’t want to get anymore heat on me. But it was mostly about principles.
    First to call my boss and explain my repurposing of his warehouse. Second find someone who could work Downs over while I investigated other leads. I would also have to do something about the Fed situation. Hemingway I didn’t mind dealing with, but Jones was going to need a lesson in proper etiquette from someone higher up on the food chain. And I still needed to ensure the barrier between this world and the spirit world was solid. I grabbed one of my burners and dialed my boss’s private number. Hopefully he would be in a good mood. It took two calls before someone finally picked up. “Home of Jeff Masters. May I ask who is calling?” One of Jeff’s many partners, and I don’t mean business partners, elves were the original swingers. My small clock on the wall declared the time to be five minutes past nine. I was probably interrupting an orgy.
    “It’s John, John Smith, I need to speak with Jeff immediately. It’s about hiring some new personnel for the warehouse.” I really hoped the orgy would have Alewyn in a good mood. I heard the woman, Katie?, hum to herself as she thought about my request.
    “I don’t think we’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I really like your designs, you should… swing by more often.” We had been introduced, more than once, but Katie was human, and a bit of an airhead, and liable to forget me in a matter of hours or days. It was like that Adam Sandler movie when he had to woo a