The Aegis Solution Read Online Free

doesn't give
a damn about me. Hasn't for years. I don't even have a father. No one."
    The pathos of the picture she painted struck him more powerfully than he anticipated, and he was
speechless. Unable to find words, he only nodded.
    No sooner had Matt indicated his assent than she stepped toward him, wrapping her arms tightly
around his neck, her frail body shuddering with the release of the pent-up emotions. Instinctively, he
put his arms around her and let her cry. Over Tillie's shoulder he saw the lead officer, who had warned
him earlier, watching.
    They stood locked together like this for minutes until the racking sobs subsided. He loosened his
embrace, normally a signal to the other to do the same, but she held him tightly, even pulling him harder
against her. He found he was unable to refuse her the solace she was seeking, and reciprocated.
    Neither knew how much more time had passed before Tillie finally relaxed, her arms dropping
from around his neck. They stepped apart, and as Matt looked at her, he saw something that was not
there before, although he was unsure what it was.
    "Thanks," she murmured, a feeble attempt at a smile causing the deep dimples to reappear on her
cheeks.
    He smiled back and said, "Thank you."
    With a faint look of surprise, she asked, "For what?"
    His smile broadening, he answered, "For picking me, I guess."
    "I don't understand. All I did was lay my trip on you."
    Chuckling, he reacted, "Lay a trip! I haven't heard that phrase in a long time."
    She joined him in the laugh. "I like old sayings."
    "Well, you didn't lay any trip on me. You picked me to connect with. I am glad to meet you,
Mathilda."
    She took his hand and shook it, the simple motion conveying her sense of the irony of his words.
"Yeah, glad to meet you too, Matthias. Wish we had met a long time ago."
    The implication of her comment clear to him, he chose not to acknowledge the message and only
said, "Same here."
    Tillie looked as if she would say something more. Instead, she shrugged her thin shoulders and
tilted her head toward the entrance.
    "Well," she began in a voice with a forced tone of normalcy, "I'd better get in there."
    "I'll walk you to the door."
    They turned together, when suddenly he exclaimed, "Dammit!"
    Tillie stopped. "What's wrong?"
    He started to answer but, before he spoke, noticed that the marshal was still hovering nearby. He
leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear.
    Hearing his words, she instantly remarked, "Cool! Okay!"
    They finished covering the short distance to the turnstile, and Matt turned to Tillie and softly said,
"You take care of yourself in there."
    Her eyes swept across the panorama of the desert which surrounded them, as she answered, "You
take care of yourself out here."
    He leaned forward and they again hugged, this time with much less intensity, and parted after only
a few moments.
    Tillie turned and stepped into the opening, gripping the horizontal bars of the gate. She looked
back over her shoulder and smiled at him. As she walked through, pushing on the bar, he heard, over
the clacking of the ratchet mechanism, her final comment to him. "Be seeing you."
    Feeling saddened and a little empty, he turned and walked over to the officer, who simply stated,
"Told you."
    Clements studied the man's face for a moment before swinging his gaze back to the now empty
turnstile and answering, "No. You were wrong. I'm glad I did it."
    By the time they turned and began walking to Matt's truck, the other marshals were already walking
to their guard posts.
    "What did you whisper to her at the last minute before she went inside?"
    Shrugging, Matt replied, "Nothing. I just told her where I hid some candy bars."
    The man's stare showed his doubt regarding the veracity of the answer, but he said nothing. They
arrived at Matt's truck and shook hands.
    Then the officer, sensing something in the contractor, assured, "You did a good thing…building
this, I mean."
    With a sigh, Clements