Read Online Seattle Quake 9.2 by Marti Talbott - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marti Talbott
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office, and then raced around her desk, yanked open a bottom drawer, and grabbed her purse. Soon, she was back in the large, center room. But when she looked, Pat was still standing there -- staring at her. "I'm dead serious. Put those down and go home."
"Okay," Pat said. She set the papers back on her desk, grabbed a backpack and disappeared down the outer corridor.
Seely looked at Jenna's empty desk, and then quickly glanced around. Just as she turned, the door to the walk-in-vault opened and Tim Garton came out. "What are you doing here?"
Tim smiled and sarcastically curled the corners of his mouth, "If you must know, I came to steal all the money." Young and muscular, Tim mockingly bowed, and then twirled the corner of his imaginary mustache. He had a full head of red hair, brown eyes and a silly grin.
"Timmy, go home…please."
"Oh I get it, you don't trust me."
"This is not a joke, I'm worried. Outside, the animals are acting strange and I think we're going to have an earthquake."
"Earthquake?"
"Just humor me and go home. Please."
"Well, since you put it like that." Tim closed the vault door, locked it and headed for his desk. He sat down and quickly began flipping off all his printers and computer equipment.
Finally, Seely spotted Jenna in the kitchenette pulling pop cans out of a carton, and then shoving them in the refrigerator. She hurried back across the large room.
Jenna grinned and brushed blond hair off her forehead, "I hate hot pop on a Monday morning." She was a pretty girl, with a teenage figure and a matching giggle, wearing a soft green short set.
Seely leaned down, took the pop out of her hand, set it on the counter, and closed the refrigerator door. "You won't even be here Monday."
"Yes, but you will."
"I appreciate the thought, but I'd rather have you gone. Go get your things. And do it quickly."
Jenna stared into Seely's serious eyes for a moment, and then got up. "What's wrong?" But Seely muttered something she didn't understand, walked through the kitchenette and disappeared into the center hall. As soon as she was out of sight, Jenna shrugged and went back to filling the refrigerator with pop.
On her left, Seely walked past the heavy steel door leading to the stairs and then three upright file cabinets. She paused outside the woman's bathroom, stared at the door nervously, and then sighed, "Settle down. It's a false alarm…it must be." With that, she opened the door to the ladies room, stepped inside, tossed her purse on the counter, and headed into a stall. "Some things can't wait."
The time was 4:18.
Crossing three zones, Evan Cole wasn't sure what time it was and didn't care. He was in the first class window seat of a Boeing 757 somewhere over Washington State. Outside, the view of thick wooded mountains and deep valleys went unnoticed. Instead he stared aimlessly, reliving the last night he spent with Christina. She was wearing a long flowing dress when he took her gloved hand and led her onto the dance floor. He’d looked long into her loving eyes, touched her glistening black hair, and then took her in his arms. Even now, he could still hear the music and smell her perfume.
*
In the sound proof booth, Max logged onto the Internet, and then located a national news service. In disbelief, he narrowed his eyes and read the lead story. "Prophet predicts earthquake in Seattle." Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He pushed the print icon and waited. Ten seconds later, the story printed out. He scanned the page, located the letters KMPR, and then tossed the paper on his desk. Using his mouse, he copied the page, pasted it into an email and sent it to Collin in the next room.
Collin was on the air and engrossed in a phone conversation with an elderly man recounting a war story. Instinctively, he opened his e-mail and allowed his eyes to dart down the page. Not only did the story mention Max, the Prophet and the predictions, but his name was in bold print. Grinning, he turned to
"Okay," Pat said. She set the papers back on her desk, grabbed a backpack and disappeared down the outer corridor.
Seely looked at Jenna's empty desk, and then quickly glanced around. Just as she turned, the door to the walk-in-vault opened and Tim Garton came out. "What are you doing here?"
Tim smiled and sarcastically curled the corners of his mouth, "If you must know, I came to steal all the money." Young and muscular, Tim mockingly bowed, and then twirled the corner of his imaginary mustache. He had a full head of red hair, brown eyes and a silly grin.
"Timmy, go home…please."
"Oh I get it, you don't trust me."
"This is not a joke, I'm worried. Outside, the animals are acting strange and I think we're going to have an earthquake."
"Earthquake?"
"Just humor me and go home. Please."
"Well, since you put it like that." Tim closed the vault door, locked it and headed for his desk. He sat down and quickly began flipping off all his printers and computer equipment.
Finally, Seely spotted Jenna in the kitchenette pulling pop cans out of a carton, and then shoving them in the refrigerator. She hurried back across the large room.
Jenna grinned and brushed blond hair off her forehead, "I hate hot pop on a Monday morning." She was a pretty girl, with a teenage figure and a matching giggle, wearing a soft green short set.
Seely leaned down, took the pop out of her hand, set it on the counter, and closed the refrigerator door. "You won't even be here Monday."
"Yes, but you will."
"I appreciate the thought, but I'd rather have you gone. Go get your things. And do it quickly."
Jenna stared into Seely's serious eyes for a moment, and then got up. "What's wrong?" But Seely muttered something she didn't understand, walked through the kitchenette and disappeared into the center hall. As soon as she was out of sight, Jenna shrugged and went back to filling the refrigerator with pop.
On her left, Seely walked past the heavy steel door leading to the stairs and then three upright file cabinets. She paused outside the woman's bathroom, stared at the door nervously, and then sighed, "Settle down. It's a false alarm…it must be." With that, she opened the door to the ladies room, stepped inside, tossed her purse on the counter, and headed into a stall. "Some things can't wait."
The time was 4:18.
Crossing three zones, Evan Cole wasn't sure what time it was and didn't care. He was in the first class window seat of a Boeing 757 somewhere over Washington State. Outside, the view of thick wooded mountains and deep valleys went unnoticed. Instead he stared aimlessly, reliving the last night he spent with Christina. She was wearing a long flowing dress when he took her gloved hand and led her onto the dance floor. He’d looked long into her loving eyes, touched her glistening black hair, and then took her in his arms. Even now, he could still hear the music and smell her perfume.
*
In the sound proof booth, Max logged onto the Internet, and then located a national news service. In disbelief, he narrowed his eyes and read the lead story. "Prophet predicts earthquake in Seattle." Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He pushed the print icon and waited. Ten seconds later, the story printed out. He scanned the page, located the letters KMPR, and then tossed the paper on his desk. Using his mouse, he copied the page, pasted it into an email and sent it to Collin in the next room.
Collin was on the air and engrossed in a phone conversation with an elderly man recounting a war story. Instinctively, he opened his e-mail and allowed his eyes to dart down the page. Not only did the story mention Max, the Prophet and the predictions, but his name was in bold print. Grinning, he turned to
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