"And Jake?"
"What?"
"Wiley was here a few minutes ago asking about all the details. Seems he got a phone call from President Rudd about your run-in with some FBI agent."
"Was he pissed?"
"Didn't seem that way. Concerned mostly. He told Rudd where you're headed."
"How'd he know that? You tell him?"
"I did. Hope you don't mind."
"Nope. Saves me the trouble of making the call myself." Jake paused. "I've got a hunch Ashley Regan and Samantha Connors aren't the only missing pieces in this puzzle."
26
Jake climbed into the cabin of the Citation 750 and gave the pilots his new destination. He grabbed a sandwich and two miniature cans of Mountain Dew from the galley and sat down in his usual spot. He needed food and a good caffeine jolt. He devoured the sandwich and guzzled the first can of soda while the jet taxied. Better already. Low blood sugar always made him grumpy. His morning had gotten off to a rotten start and he despised playing catch-up. He felt a twinge of déjà vu as he readied himself to track down Ashley Regan. It had been nearly a year since his hound dog pursuit of a terrorist who threatened to blow up a museum in New York City. And as with that search, Jake always seemed to be one step behind.
With the surge of the jet's engine as the aircraft accelerated down the runway, he instinctively checked his seatbelt. After wheels up, he retrieved his iPad from his backpack, unlocked the tablet computer, retrieved his messages, and downloaded the encrypted files Fontaine sent him. Some of the information was a repeat from the phone call. Fontaine had sent volumes of data; enough to keep him busy at least an hour reading through all the detailed reports. Then he still had to analyze the data and formulate a new course of action.
Jake was a top analyst when he was with Naval Intelligence; to such a degree he was assigned to work directly with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. He'd proven his worth on numerous occasions during his brief stint with the CIA. But regardless of how good his analytical intuition was, he wouldn't be nearly as effective if it weren't for Fontaine's IT skills. A perfect complement for his tradecraft.
The three hundred mile flight from rainy Charleston to the sunshine of Northeastern Tennessee was estimated to take forty-five minutes so Jake scanned through the documents and reports as quickly as he could, trying to absorb only the important details. As he soon realized, it was all-important. With fifteen minutes of flight time remaining, he logged in to the Commonwealth server with his encrypted iPad.
Fontaine's face appeared on the new enhanced screen. In fact, his face filled the screen. Top to bottom, left to right. Always smiling, head full of silver hair, and his crooked nose shifted to one side. Fontaine's left, Jake's right. A feature he thought fit the jovial man's demeanor. "Hi, Jake. We’re burning daylight, ready to start?"
"Ready, George. Let's do this."
"As you're aware from the history on Butler—"
"I didn't really read that file, just a quick glance. Something about TVA and a flooded town. I figured I'd get to it later."
"You'll need to read it to get a good understanding of what's about to transpire. And more than likely you'll come to the same conclusion I have." Fontaine said.
"And you're not going to tell me right away, are you?" Jake knew Fontaine's style was to fill him full of facts and then disclose the remaining piece of the puzzle at the last minute. A flare for sensationalism. It was a game Fontaine played, a test of sorts, to see if Jake could figure out the puzzle without the final piece. Most times he could.
Fontaine shook his head.
"Go ahead then."
"At first I figured the women would just see what had happened in Butler and keep on going but it looks like they're sticking around, which is good news for us because it will take them a couple of days to get what they came for."
"Not a simple smash and run this time, huh?"
"As you'll read, Adams shipped the remains to Butler in January of 1946, one month before he disappeared. Much has changed in Butler since then and Regan and Barnett will be in for quite a surprise when they get there."
"What makes you think they're going to stick around?" Jake had asked Fontaine to track Regan's cell phone before he left Charleston. "New developments?"
"Oh yeah. I pinpointed four stops with Regan's phone. First, the Butler Museum. Which was strange because according to the website the museum was closed. From there, she stopped at a bait shop in Butler for about fifteen minutes and then drove to two different scuba diving shops. One in Kingsport and the other in Johnson City. Which tells me Butler is definitely the target."
"Where is she now?" Jake asked.
"Let's see." Jake could hear Fontaine typing on his computer. The familiar sound of fingertips striking a keyboard. "Right now she's back in Butler. Looks like at one of the marinas on the lake."
"What about Adams? Anything new?"
"Nothing specifically on Adams but I did come across something I think you'll find enlightening."
"I'm listening."
"I decided to track Ashley Regan's passport and you'll never believe what popped up."
"To use your words, enlighten me." Jake saw Fontaine smile.
"In August, Ashley Regan and Samantha Connors made a hiking trip to Germany. Third year in a row, same time period. Each year they hiked from the base to the summit of Zugspitze. Same mountain Adams disappeared on in 1946."
"That is interesting," Jake said, "but how does that relate to now?"
"Patience, young Jedi." Fontaine, a Star Wars geek had used that line on him on more than one occasion. "As it turns out, this year Regan found the frozen remains of a body inside an ice cave in the Höllentalferner glacier, which is on the north face of Zugspitze."
"No kidding," Jake said, "was it Adams?"
"Don't know," Fontaine explained. "The remains have yet to be identified. All I could find out is that it was a man and the time period is about the same. To this day there are still an awful lot of missing and unaccounted for soldiers from the World War II era."
Jake was silent. His brain cells went into overdrive as he rolled through the possible alternatives. Too coincidental for the body in the glacier to be anyone but Adams.
"Jake? You still with me?" Fontaine asked.
"She's not vandalizing caskets," Jake said. "She's robbing graves. She must have found something on the frozen body and kept it. That had to be Adams' body. I'll bet he'd been shipping something to the States in those caskets and had it all written down in something, maybe a journal or ledger of some sort. And Ashley Regan found it and kept it for herself. Which means whoever ransacked Ashley Regan's home, was looking for it too."
"And she solicited her best friend to help her out." Fontaine injected. "Who also took four semesters of German in college and is a certified scuba diver."
"Interesting." Jake smiled. "I need to find Regan and Barnett and get my hands on that book."
"I already gave Wiley my suspicions, you want me to brief Rudd as well?"
"Not yet, George," Jake said. "Not until I have something definitive. Even though we know the truth, it's only conjecture. We need proof. We need the book."
"No personal items have been taken from the caskets, so what do you think is hidden inside?"
"I have a pretty good idea," Jake said. "George, here's what I need you to find out."
Jake gave Fontaine specific instructions and logged out. He thought about everything he'd just learned and smiled. He needed to personally give President Rebecca Rudd an update after all.
Abigail Love plugged Butler, Tennessee into the in-dash GPS unit in her black BMW. Three hundred fifty miles. Six hours.
That was one hour ago.