The house was one of those mansions that fit better the English countryside, because it looked like the dwelling of some eighteenth-hundred highborn family and their humble servants. At the third floor, two of the library walls disappeared behind six-foot-tall oak bookcases full of expensive hardcover first editions.
A man in his mid-fifties sat on a big armchair near one of the large windows opening to the Versailles-like garden. He wore a wealthy tailored suit, a glass of scotch in his elegant hand. All about him oozed style, like anybody would picture 007 in retirement. His name wasn't Ian Blake, but that was how he'd been introducing himself to people over the last hundred years, give or take.
Sitting on a loveseat at his right, a young man in a flawless black suit typed noiselessly on his phone.
"They've just confirmed it's here, in America," they young man said.
"That's some vague statement," Blake replied, his lips pursing in an ironic smile under his perfect goatee.
"They're tracking it down as we speak, sir. The Protectors are keeping it on the move."
"Of course they are. Tell you men to stay on it around the clock. This is the last one left. We cannot afford a mistake after so many years chasing it down."
"We won't, sir. Should I tell them to retrieve it if they have a chance?"
"No, I don't trust human hired guns. Tell them to stay on it and report regularly. Once we establish a pattern, I'll send one of our kin."
"Yessir." The young man typed again.
"Where are we with a secure location to keep it after we retrieve it?"
"I think I've found the perfect place, sir."
The young man handed his phone to Blake. He zoomed it on the satellite image on screen.
"What am I looking at?"
"Baker Lake, sir."
"And where would that be?"
"Washington state, sir, northwest of the North Cascades National Park. See that spot on the west coast of the lake? That's Bold Peak. Five hundred souls, isolated, nothing important has ever happened there. One of our best assets is already settled there, in case you approve the location."
Blake gave the phone back to the young man and leaned in his armchair, thoughtful. "A small town? Locals mustn't trust strangers."
"Our man moved there some time ago, sir, when we were still in Prague. He's already successfully mingled with the locals by now."
Blake took a moment to nod. "Carry on, then. Everything must be ready by the time we retrieve it."
"Yessir."
Blake sipped his scotch and flashed a quick smile.
"Bold Peak," he repeated to himself. "A small town lost in the mountains by a northern lake. I even like how it sounds."
The night closed on Lake Shannon as the Hilux drove past Concrete to take Baker Lake Road. Soon Alex turned onto the parallel road running north closer to the coast. It'd been a great week on the road with Claire and the Holsters, but she was happy to be back home. She poked Claire as they crossed Sandy Creek and turned the volume up on one of her favorite Daughtry songs.
"Wake up, kiddo. We're home."
Claire sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes. She looked out the windshield as they cruised past the pretty wooden sign that read, "Welcome to Bold Peak."
**Baker Lake, WA**
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Don't Open That Door - GoM 1
Paranormal+18 - GHOST of ME 1 - Alex and Claire Corban lead ordinary lives in their small town. Until their family past catches up, forcing them to face supernatural events that will change their lives forever. -- draft UNDER **HEAVY** REVISION --Please let m...