Snippet #1622651

Lenore was still brooding over her decision...no, order...to meet with Kyle Phillips tomorrow at midnight. Her kids picked up on her mood after she fetched them from the neighbor's, and were mercifully quiet. She couldn't help but think of the papers she had seen, and then to hear the command from the CIA. Didn't they also torture the families of those suspected of being traitors? She had nothing to do with what Robert might or might not be doing. She was innocent.

Robert came home in a black mood. A senator had been murdered, and Robert was taking the news far harsher than he had when his own father died. When Lenore tried to ask him what was wrong, he snapped, "The dead lying son of a bitch! The cheating bastard went to the Russians! Everything! All of it! My whole project is going to have IA on our asses, and our funding is out the window! What ever happened to loyalty and the American way?" Robert slammed his fist into the wall, making a dent. "I hope he rots in Hell."

"It's sad he died," Lenore said, but Robert didn't care. With his mysterious project on the brink, he was in a worse mood than normal. Forgoing his dinner, Robert took a bottle of scotch into his office and locked the door. Lenore prayed he stayed in there all night. He was a brute when he drank.

Cautiously, she put the kids to bed and got the kitchen cleaned up. She had a restless night, worrying over her meeting with CIA Kyle Phillips. She woke to a cold bed, and Robert gone for the day. She had all day to plan on how to sneak out without anyone knowing she was gone.