That was also the day he found out that Matthew Katzer was not his real father.
And how he really died.
And why.
Ashley Regan unpacked her Eagle Creek luggage in a hurry to get to the book. She never got a chance to thoroughly examine it before she and Sam Connors left Europe to return home. Because of the cold and moisture of what she figured must have been decades in the ice, the book must be handled with special attention to avoid damage.
She had sealed the book in a plastic bag and then wrapped it with care inside some of her clothes before packing it in her checked luggage. She didn't want to risk the possibility of losing the book at security by carrying it onboard.
There were laws against what she was doing. International laws. She knew because one of her clients narrowly escaped jail time for removing an ancient artifact he discovered while vacationing in the ancient city of Istanbul, Turkey. Found guilty of violations of the UNESCO Convention on the Mean of Prohibiting the Illicit Import, Export, and Transfer of Ownership of Cultural Property, her client was lucky to walk away with nothing more than a hefty fine and forfeiture of the artifact. All because he thought the item would make a cool display on his mantle.
When Regan and Connors had reached the summit at Zugspitze, she'd reported finding the man's body. The authorities took her statement and dispatched a crew to recover the body from the ice. The couple’s itinerary took them from Garmisch, Germany to Venice, Italy the next day, which suited Regan. She wanted to get as far away from the German mountain as possible in case someone raised concern over the body found frozen in the glacier. The last thing she wanted was to be called back and interrogated…or worse, have her belongings searched. There was no plausible explanation for her possession of the book and it would have been obvious where she found it. The German authorities would take it back and her troubles would just be starting.
The two days spent in Italy on pins and needles, wondering if she would be found out, were unnerving. She kept expecting authorities to discover the identity of the frozen man, come after her, and search her luggage for any missing artifacts. She searched the newspapers every day and found it odd that she never saw any news reports about the body she discovered.
The flight back to the United States was long but the exhilaration and mystery behind the book deprived her of sleep. All she could think about was the leather bound book and what might be written in it. The notion the book didn't contain any secrets never crossed her mind. Even more intriguing was what she found after she had a chance to examine it.
After she had returned to her room in Garmisch and unpacked the book, she'd noticed a hole in it, small but large enough to slip her finger through. Under the table lamp she noticed a discoloration resembling blood stains on the leather binder. Perhaps it was her imagination gone wild, but after closer inspection she deduced it could have been made from a bullet and that piqued her interest. The thought of opening the book and discovering its secrets caused her heart to race with curious anticipation.
She located the sweater that concealed the book and carefully unwrapped it. Moisture had coated the inside of the sealed plastic bag containing the book. She assumed the restorative drying process would have to be slow and tedious and she wanted to make sure she didn’t damage the book so she decided not to open the sealed bag until she consulted an expert in document restoration. For added protection, she sealed it inside another bag and then the second bag inside a third. Overkill perhaps, but she didn't care.
Even though she was exhausted from traveling, the curiosity of her new found treasure fueled her. Her Internet searches for document restorers failed to provide any results near the Charleston area. She decided she’d call the university library to find an expert and then make up a story to get the information she needed.
While her mind wandered through the intricate details of her scheme, her fingers caressed the book through the plastic bags, feeling every detail. Her middle finger found the hole on the front. She held it in front of the light and saw the filtered glow through the hole in the journal.
“What is in here that is so important?” She whispered out loud. “And did someone have to die to protect it?”
5
Senator Richard Boden was among the most prestigious of the nation's politicians. In addition to his war record, Boden was a founding member of the Inner Circle of the United States Senate. Known as the yachtsmen, although most members didn't even own a yacht, this Inner Circle had wrestled power from a handful of senior senators and changed the way the Senate chose committee chairmanships. In true Orwellian style, the Inner Circle believed not all 100 senators were created equal. They alone held the power. Aspiring new senators were molded — or destroyed — by these Inner Circle members.
Wiley wanted to make the senator's demise look like natural causes…and that's what Jake resolved to do.
Four computer monitors surrounded Jake and Francesca, each containing mission sensitive data about Boden, his residence, and his security system. The two had been sitting at the conference table next to the RF lab at METech for the past four and half hours without a break and had made very little progress determining how to handle suspicion from Boden's fellow Inner Circle members. The aging senator was part of the good ol boy system and had strong allies in Washington. They would insist on an investigation and an autopsy.
Jake stood, yawned, stretched his arms as far as he could, and said, "We're getting nowhere. I'm going to make a head run and get a soft drink. Want something?"
"Dr. Pepper would be nice. I could use the caffeine." Francesca covered her mouth while she yawned.
Jake smiled, yawns always seemed contagious, he thought. "You got it." He and Francesca had been paired on missions more times than they'd been on solo missions over the past year. With the exception of the scar on her left cheek, Francesca was a woman of flawless beauty. As a matter of fact, he felt the imperfection added to her Italian mystique. Working as a team had nurtured their friendship and added confidence in each other's abilities. Their strengths and weaknesses created the perfect balance and their skills complimented each other.
Wiley had created the perfect union.
He trusted her with his life, and he knew she reciprocated. He supposed that was why Wiley kept them paired. The old man was a matchmaker in the world of espionage. Their vows were simple—From this day forward, I got your back.
Jake turned toward the door as it opened. Kyli walked in with a smile on her face holding a pack of gum and a clipboard.
"Piece of cake." She handed the pack of gum to Francesca. "You're all set."
"That was fast." Francesca took the pack of gum from Kyli and placed it on the conference table.
"Should I ask how?" Jake asked.
"How…what?" Kyli asked. "How I finished in such a short amount of time or how the gum works?"
"Yes," Jake said.
"Start with how you finished so fast," Francesca said.
Kyli pointed to one of the computer monitors. "I know him. Isn't that the senator who—"
"You didn't see that." Jake leaned over the table and minimized the windows on the monitors. "This one's from the top."