Page 16 of Cole

"This is quite an operation you've got," Cole said as they completed the exterior circuit. "The mining company must be doing well."

"Very well. We're extracting rare earth minerals essential to modern technology. Phones, computers, electric vehicles—they all need what we're pulling out of the ground." Penson's chest puffed slightly with pride. "It's lucrative work, and we're positioned to be major suppliers for the next decade."

They were heading back toward the house when Penson's phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted, becoming harder.

"Excuse me. I need to take this." He moved a few paces away, but his voice carried clearly in the cold air. "What is it?"

Cole had no desire to listen to Charles’s phone call, but with the man’s booming voice, it was hard to ignore, even as he studied his camera settings while listening.

"I don't care who's around looking at goddamn moose," Penson snapped into the phone. "Keep going where we said to go. If they're a problem, take care of them. Money talks, so make it talk. And if that doesn’t work, make it go away however you have to.”

A pause while the person on the other end responded.

"People will protest, but they need us and our minerals. We're protected by the ones who pay us big. Somebody snoops… just handle it." Penson ended the call and turned back to Cole with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sorry about that. Business never stops."

"No problem." Cole kept his expression neutral, but his mind was working. That conversation sounded like more than just business. It sounded like threats. Like someone trying to intimidate or buy off whoever was "looking at moose" in areas where Northern Summit wanted to work.

They finished the initial walkthrough another hour later. Cole had almost everything he needed, including comprehensive documentation of the property, detailed notes on Penson's requirements, measurements and specifications for the design team back at LSI-Montana.

“I’ll be back tomorrow after my team has a chance to evaluate what I have, and they’ll check with the installation contractors. Tomorrow shouldn’t take too long. I’ll just need to make sure there is nothing else they require before I fly back since your perimeter is so large.”

Charles stood at the front door. "How long before I see a proposal?"

"Two weeks. We'll do a full analysis, design multiple options, and present recommendations." Cole loaded his equipment into the truck bed. "Once you approve a design, the installation company will provide a timeline."

"Good." Charles shook his hand again, that practiced smile back in place. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

Cole drove back down the private road, waiting until he was out of sight of the house before pulling over. He grabbed his phone and called Logan.

“You done for the day?” Logan asked.

“Yes. Initial assessment is completed. Got what we need for design work, but I’ll let you tell me what else I need to reassess for the perimeter. I’ll go back over tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. You should be aware that the storm coming is dumping snow west of your location and now looks to be circling around.”

“Fuck,” Cole grumbled under his breath, his eyes now skyward, noting the changes. “Gotta tell you the client is a piece of work—arrogant, demanding, and I overheard a phone conversation that sounded sketchy as hell. We'll do the job because the contract's signed, but I recommend we don't pursue additional work with Northern Summit Resources. The owner is a shithead.”

Logan chuckled. “Duly noted. Now get somewhere safe before the storm hits.”

Cole checked the weather radar on his phone. The storm had accelerated, moving faster than the forecasts predicted. He wouldn't make it back to Fairbanks before it arrived. The nearest town was Cantwell, about twenty miles south. Small place, but it would have a hotel or at least somewhere to wait out the weather.

He punched the coordinates into his GPS and headed south. The sky darkened as he drove, clouds rolling in like a gray ceiling dropping lower by the minute. The first fat, heavy snowflakes started falling as he reached Cantwell's outskirts.

The town consisted of maybe a dozen buildings clustered along the highway. A general store, a café, a gas station, and what looked like a small motel with a hand-painted sign advertising "Clean Rooms, Reasonable Rates." Good enough.

Cole pulled into the motel parking lot as the snow began falling in earnest. The office was warm and smelled like old coffee. An elderly man behind the counter looked up from his newspaper.

"Need a room?"

"Two nights, probably. Depends how long this storm lasts."

"Smart. This won’t be a huge one, but enough to chase most people inside." The man pushed a registration card across the counter. "Cash or card?"

"Card." Cole filled out the form and handed over his credit card. "Any place to eat in town?"

"Bear Paw Tavern, just down the road. Donna makes a decent burger." The man processed the payment and handed over a key attached to a plastic tag bearing the number 7. "You're in luck. Last room available. Storm's got everyone scrambling for shelter."

Cole grabbed his overnight bag from the truck and let himself into the room. It was clean, if dated—floral bedspread, wood-paneled walls, and a television that probably got three channels on a good day. But it was warm and dry, which was all that mattered.