Blind Rage: Team Red, Book 4 Read Online Free Page A

completed. A sleep rotation was posted, to make the best use of the ten bunk beds, and assorted cots, in the Cave. None of the men complained about crowding or the shortage of personal space, they willingly gave up basic creature comforts for an opportunity to be part of the project. Bas told me there was a waiting list of men and women who volunteered to relocate. These Mustangs had no idea what they were signing on for; they had only Russ’ assurance the project was important to national security, and that was good enough for his people. Each Mustang applying for transfer was agreeing to a minimum two-year commitment to a project we would not disclose until they arrived. I found their trust, and dedication to Russ, humbling.
     
    Footsteps approached the sofa. The scent of coffee preceded the subtle ceramic tap of the cup being placed on the low table in front of the couch. “Morning, Teresa. This is Jaspar,” the Mustang said, needlessly identifying himself—I never developed the tactile acuity needed for brail, but I knew voices well. “Once you swing to a sitting position, your mug will be in front of your knees, six inches from the edge. Dex, Henry, and Gregg are in the kitchen with me. It’s almost oh-six hundred.”
     
    “Thanks, Jaspar,” I replied. “Morning, guys!” I called out a little louder. Stifling another yawn against the back of my hand, I rolled to a seated position. “Hellos” echoed back to me, but I barely heard them over the cracking of my jaw. It was becoming a habit for one of the guys to pour and deliver a cup of coffee if they noticed my hand was empty. I originally protested I was capable of getting my own mug, but they explained it was a courtesy they extended to each other also, so I shouldn’t feel I was getting special treatment.
     
    “Red took Tank outside about fifteen minutes ago.” Jaspar’s voice faded a bit, as if he turned away from me while speaking. My guess he was looking out, through the sliding door, was confirmed when he continued, “Looks like they’re playing a rousing game of fetch with an overlong branch. Would you like me to call them in?”
     
    “No thanks. I’ll sit here and enjoy my coffee in peace. I’m still trying to wake up.” I lifted my mug toward him, “This should help. Thank you.” I took my first sip of the day. Heaven. At a sudden burst of puppy barks, I smiled, imagining Red getting to the stick first, and mock-fighting Tank, who always tried to steal it away. Henry told me yesterday, that Red usually picks up the stick at one end, dipping the opposite end low enough for Tank to hold on so they can fetch in tandem. This teamwork approach by my smart dog hasn’t quite caught on with the younger pup, who likes to tug and test Red’s imperturbability.
     
    The whisper of Jaspar’s shoes across the carpet indicated he returned to the kitchen. The murmur of their voices faded in my mind, as I resumed my train of thought prior to Jaspar bringing me my morning java fix.
     
    Seventeen Wild Horses in the house, eighteen, if we counted Russ, meant a sudden need for more bed space below. Henry had willingly given up his room in the Cave to move into the newly converted bedroom between Bastian’s and mine. The small room had been a rarely-used office with a bookcase, a lone desk, and computer. It was the only place left to move him to without bunking him with Bas—which we had considered, as David, Marcia, and Wes were due on Sunday, so family space was at a premium. Bas and I decided we needed our personal space. I was pretty sure Bastian and I would eventually share a physical relationship, but I wasn’t ready yet and I refused to rush things for the sake of convenience. Logical or not, I needed to close the final chapter with David first. Bas told me his and David’s programming is at a complex stage; they need the quiet they could no longer get in the Cave with so much activity going on. The desk from Henry’s room was moved to Bas’