THE 4400® WELCOME TO PROMISE CITY - Plot & Excerpts
Harvested corn and tobacco fields, lying dormant for the winter, surrounded the house and outbuildings. An unlit dirt road led to the Lancaster Pike, nearly a half mile away. A wrought-iron rooster perched atop the weather vane. Amish hex signs were painted on the barns and grain silo. Electric lights shone in the windows. The upstairs curtains had been drawn for the night. A fleet of limousines, parked alongside the house, looked distinctly out of place. Richard took the limos’ presence as a good sign. Looks like we’re in the right place, he thought. He and his team crept through a darkened field toward the rear of the house. A reliable tip had informed them that the surviving Marked were holding a summit at this very location, offering a perfect opportunity to dispose of the entire cabal in one fell swoop. Subsequent research had revealed that the isolated farm was one of several properties owned by Wesley Burke, the president’s chief advisor on domestic security. The incongruous limos suggested that they had arrived just in time.
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