Subject: This will make you 300 million

From: "Rodger Walters" <[email-masked]>
Date: Mon, 10 Oct 2016 11:45:35 -0700

think about at a time like thismodesty. Where was Vanessa Was she okay He didnt know, of course. He didnt know anything. He didnt know where he was or who this man was or why he was here. Gerard tried to slow himself down, tried to think rationally about his next move. He would have to cooperate and try as best he could to keep his wits about him. Gerard was smart. He reminded himself of that right now. There, good, that made him feel better. He was smart. He had a woman he loved and a great job and a wonderful future ahead of him. This brute had a gun, yes, but he was no match for Gerard Remingtons intellect. The man finally spoke. Hurry. Gerard hosed himself off. Do you have a towel he asked. No. Still wet, Gerard slipped into the jumpsuit. He was shivering now. The combination of fear, exhaustion, confusion, and deprivation was taking its toll. Do you see that path The man with the swollen muscles pointed toward the same
opening Gerard had seen the dog run up. Yes. Follow it until the end. If you step off of it, I will shoot you. Gerard did not bother to question the order. He started down the narrow path. Running away did not seem to be an option. Even if the man didnt shoot him, where would he go He could hide in the woods maybe. Hope to outrun him. But he had no idea which direction to head. He had no idea if he would be running toward a road or deeper into the wilderness. It was, it seemed, a fools

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plan. Plus, if these people wanted to kill himhe assumed that there was more than one since the brute had said wethey would have done so by now. So stay smart. Stay observant. Stay alive. Find Vanessa. Gerard knew his stride was approximately 81 centimeters.

He counted the steps. When he reached two hundred steps, which added up to 162 meters, he saw a break in the path. There was a clearing not far away. Twelve steps later, Gerard was out of the thick woods. Up ahead, there was a white farmhouse. Gerard studied

it from afar, noticing that the upstairs dow shades were dark green. He looked for electrical wires leading toward the house. There were none. Interesting. A man stood on the porch of the farmhouse. He leaned casually against a porch post. His sleeves were rolled

up, his arms crossed. He wore sunglasses and work boots. His hair was dirtyblond and longshoulder length. When he spotted Gerard, the man beckoned for him to come inside. Then the man slipped through the door and out of sight. Gerard started toward the

farmhouse. Again he noticed the green shades. There was a barn to his right. The dogyep, it was definitely a chocolate Labsat in front of it, patiently watching. Behind the dog, Gerard could see the corner of what looked like a gray buggy for a horse. Hmm.

Gerard also spotted a dmill. That made sense. These were clues. He didnt know what they added up toor maybe he did and that just made the situation even more confusingbut for now, he just let the clues sink in. He walked up the two porch steps and hesitated by

the open door. He took a deep breath and stepped into the front foyer. The living room was to his left. The man with the long hair sat in a big chair. His sunglasses were off now. His eyes were brown and bloods. Tattoos covered his forearms. Gerard studied them,

trying to form a mental pograph, hoping for a hint as to who the man might be. But the tattoos were simple designs. They told him nothing. My name is Titus. There was a lilt in the mans voice. Something silvery and soft and almost fragile. Please sit down.

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