Deniable Trust

Jamie leaned forward in the glass bubble while he and the pilot hung in unnatural suspension high above the earth. If closing his eyes would make the compression and buffeting outside the wobbly canopy of the cockpit less unnerving, he would have squinted until his brain could no longer register any light . . . the earth and the view straight ahead seemed to shift with each of the pilot's motions until the egg shaped cockpit steadied and the horizon leveled across the windshield and they hovered nine-hundred feet above the Circle C Ranch. It all seemed surreal, lacking normalcy. But what was normal anymore? A day earlier he had expected to be washed up and unemployed. Instead he was the new president of The Grand American Bank's Arizona division.