Page 1 of Fury In Death

Prologue

Summer 2048

Steve Redman thought: Raising a toddler killed brain cells.

Just past midnight on a hot summer night, and two-year-old Luke wouldn’t settle. Trying to spare his very pregnant wife, let her sleep—or try to—Steve had pulled out all the stops. He’d read Luke’s favorite, In the Night Time, three times. He’d sung various tunes, made shadow animals on the bedroom wall.

He’d resorted to bribery. Go to sleep and we’ll go to the playground tomorrow.

But the kid only wanted his mother.

He’d heard all about the terrible twos, but Luke didn’t qualify. Generally, he snuggled into bed with Carrot, the stuffed rabbit, at eight-thirty every night.

A story, a song, and done.

Not tonight.

His boy had a sweet heart, a thirsty mind, a good dose of silliness. And enough energy to run the world and its satellites for a solid year without a recharge.

He heard Ari singing to their little boy, something that should have made him smile. Instead, he paced in the dark as the problem he’d hoped to keep in the back of his mind for the night pushed to the forefront.

He’d learned something about the company he worked for, the company that had recruited him straight out of college, the company that made it possible for his family to afford the two-story brownstone they’d move into in just two weeks.

He hadn’t wanted to believe what he’d stumbled across. Working late—something he rarely did these days. But Ari had taken Luke to spend a couple days with her mother in Connecticut.

He’d thought he’d enjoy the quiet, but one evening without them had been enough. So he’d stayed late at the lab. His lab, he thought now.

They’d put him in charge, made him the youngest director in the Banner-Wyst corporation.

He did good work—he reminded himself of that. He did work that benefited the planet, the people on it. He’d been proud of that work, proud of the company that funded and supported that work.

Until he’d learned that some with power in the company, some who acquiesced to the power were traitors.

Traitors to the country, the planet, the people on it.

They would use his work, his efforts and skill, not to benefit, but to exploit. To destroy.

The Rainmaker Project was his. He’d found answers, not all, not all quite yet, but he’d found the path toward stabilizing the climate, and more, to manipulating it.

Instead of drought and famine, instead of floods and destruction, flourishing crops and food. Hunger, real hunger, could be eradicated.

He was nearly there.

Nearly there when he’d discovered those he worked for planned to use his work not to end drought and flood and famine, but to cause it.

Selectively.

Power and greed. Sicken or kill the land. Take over whole regions, rule them, and using his work, bring them back to life. Shatter the world order, then piece it back together in their image.

The millions who would die meant nothing compared to the profit and the power.

And he’d given them the weapon.

Or so they believed.

He had the evidence now. It frightened him, but he had it.

He’d shared his discovery with Ari, of course. They had no secrets between them. Because of the enormity of that discovery, he’d sought the counsel of his most trusted friend and colleague.